Perry Verihard - Lustin And Teasin

The memory of the man, that tall, muscular man who silently pleased her with his cock like no other. The man with the face of Ken. Her eyelids were still heavy and they closed, she breathed softly and rolled onto her.side. Then she felt the very soft caress on her leg.

"Ahhhh!" she cried while recoiling… Her senses were now at full alert but she could see nothing. "Who's there?" she asked to the darkness.

No answer. No movement. No sounds. "Or… what's there?" she fearfully asked. Rats, snakes, venomous, crawling beasts danced through her imagination as she sat trembling in the center of the room. But after long minutes of stillness she decided it was just that, imagination. Her nerves calmed and she gradually relaxed.

Her eyes were once again closing when the soft, gentle stroking started on her thigh. At first she didn't realize it was happening. The delicate caress was like a warm breeze, a summer wind blowing across the hot beach. But it grew stronger and moved across the thigh, inward.

"No! Who is it?" she screeched. This time she bolted up and dashed across the room. She hit the wall with full force and was thrown backwards into a sprawl.

Once again nothing moved, not even Darlene. She lay with her fingers in her mouth, her teeth chewing, trembling. She knew someone, something was in the room with her. But what? The man who was there earlier? The giant? He had done nothing to hurt her… As she thought about the man she became convinced it had to be him. And her mind wasn't that repulsed by his return.

This time the caress touched her neck and gently moved across her shoulder. She forced herself to hold still, to allow this touch to continue until just the right moment. The petting gracefully glided from her shoulder downward across the white linen gown, down to the outcropping of her right breast. Still, she didn't move, didn't react. It touched into the heaving flesh, the soft, downy meat of the breast, and paused. She then felt the pressure, like fingers squeezing into her firmness.

She was now convinced it was a man. She could hear his breathing, feel his fingers probing the velvet texture of the tit and cautiously moving toward her warm, waiting nipple. It felt good, mild, unthreatening as her nipple was squeezed between two fingers, rolled back and forth, heated into a quick firmness.

She grabbed out. It was a fast, grappling jump and it worked. She clamped onto an arm, the muscular, strong arm of a man-that man? He jerked away, pushed at her and disappeared. Suddenly she was left alone, the silence and emptiness were back.

"Hello?" she whispered. "I know you're there… Why don't you speak to me?"

A hand touched her cheek. She was at first startled by this obvious attempt at communication but didn't jump away. The hand disappeared for a moment, then returned to her shoulder. She let it lie there, slowly caressing, while she tried once again to make him speak.

"Can you talk? Can you tell me your name?" she whispered toward him.

The hand followed the same path as before. Slowly down from the shoulder to the rise of her still excited breast until finding the rubbery nipple and squeezing into it. Darlene gave her back a slight arch and eased the fullness of her ample tit into the groping hand. It squeezed with more firmness and instilled a tingling pleasure throughout her body. Another sign of communication, she thought.

She reached out slowly and touched what felt like a well-muscled shoulder. The hand on her breast stopped moving. She stroked his shoulder and tried to encourage the mystery man on, comfort him, relax him, possibly get him to speak. Just one word, anything.

His hand started to knead her breast again and Darlene explored the firmness of his shoulder and upper arm. But when she tried to reach up and touch his face her wrist was grabbed by his free hand and pulled away. Touching the face was forbidden.

"Who are you? What am I doing here?" she again whispered.

Nothing was said but her wrist was moved down, far down to his loins. When she felt the erect cock-head brush against the back of her hand a shiver of excitement overtook her. She moved her fingers into a thick, coarse pile of surrounding hair, then came up with a wrapping grip to encircle and hold the fine cock.

That's when she discovered this was not the same man. The cock was a large, stiff rod of hardness, one any man could be proud of and any woman desirous of, but it was not the cock of the man with Ken's face. The fear quickly returned to Darlene and she suddenly blurted, "Who are you?"

Her hand moved away from the hot pecker but the man again grabbed her wrist and forced it back. He obviously enjoyed her clinging touch. He held her hand there firmly and glided the long stick up and down inside her grip. Darlene squeezed, squeezed tight in an attempt to punish this stranger but it only made his undulations more rapid, more furious.

As she felt his hand lifting her gown up and sliding underneath to touch her thighs, rub into the softness of the flesh on her hips, she started to cry. Large, wet tears streamed down her shaking cheeks as she realized she was the captive of another unseen man.

"Please tell me why… why you're doing this?" she begged in a trembling whisper.

The hand slipped between her thighs and moved up to touch the silky hair of her crotch. She kept her legs tight together, tried to keep the hand from getting any closer to the tingling lips of her vagina. He pushed, forced his fingers down between the gentle fleshiness, stabbed at the delicate tissues surrounding her hole.

She bolted up and ran blindly away. This time her senses told her when to stop and she didn't hit the wall. She stood alone and still with her arms wrapped protectively about her and waited. She knew he would try to find her in the dark, roam about until touching her… then he would be much less gentle, much more insistent.

There was no sound of movement. Nothing. Her body was taken over by a series of racking tremors, she felt freezing cold one moment, burning hot the next. Still, she could hear and see nothing. After long minutes of waiting she heard the laughter. Soft at first, then louder. A familiar laugh, a mocking laugh, Ken's laugh!

"No! God, no!" she screamed m panic. Then he was on her, grabbing, feeling, forcing her down to the padded floor of the room.

"No!" she screeched while jamming her knee up at his crotch. She missed and lost her balance. The man shoved her and she collapsed backward, her head hit the wall with a thud. With reeling senses she tried to roll away, tried to crawl like a wounded animal away from the attacker.

He lunged onto her back and she fell flat. The hands were no longer kind as they tore underneath the long gown and cruelly grabbed at the tender meat of her ass. She could feel his fingers, his heavy breath, his smothering weight allover her. Then one hand jabbed into the crack of her ass and tried to dig far down to the deliciousness of her twat.

She kicked and tried to pinch him off but it was useless. Her strength was no match for his and his fingers found the warm wetness of her crotch. They were stabbing, poking, rubbing at the lips, trying to enter her and draw the flowing liquids down.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed and lashed back with her elbow. This time she hit something, his face. A dull whack sounded and he was off her. Darlene scrambled quickly to a safer part of the darkness.

As soon as she stopped to listen he was on her again. This time his anger was evident. He grabbed at her throat and shoved until she was flat on her back and he lodged his hips between her kicking legs. She tried to strike him with her fists but they seemed useless as his hips started grinding and the iron-hard feel of his excited cock grated powerfully between her open thighs.

With a tearing rip her garment was pulled up and she now felt the bare heat of the thrashing cock. His hands were making hard pulls at the top of the robe until another tear exposed her soft breasts to the fierce pinches and tight grabs of two strong hands.