Anonymous - Wet Desires

She licked his balls.

Sucked them.

She licked his cock.

Sucked it.

Then the boy began to jerk frantically and ail of his muscles tensed as his cock spasmed. He shot a heavy load into her mouth and she swallowed down every drop like a good girl.

The little girl was walking home from school just a few days before her sixteenth birthday near the end of that spring, and she had her school books pressed to her bosom.

Martha had a creepy feeling in her stomach as she made the decision to take a short cut through the schoolyard and under the football bleachers.

Martha was only a few steps under the bleachers when she knew she had made a terrible mistake.

She was not alone.

Someone was waiting for her. It was Brutus Bataglia, the big, ugly football player who was just about the meanest guy in the whole school. He had made several sloppy passes at Martha in his day, and Martha had shut his gas off cold each and every time.

"Hey, Martha," he said. He was sitting up against a wooden barrier in the dark behind the bleachers. There was no one else around. She watched as the brutish jock rose to his feet.

"What do you want?"

"I was waiting for you."

"Why?"

"I heard you are a good time."

"Not with you."

"How Come?"

"You're mean."

"You're stuck up, that's what I think."

"Leave me alone."

"Come on, give Brutus a little action," he said.

He came toward her and grabbed her by the arm. He held her so tightly that he hurt her. She tried to pull away from him and was horrified to find that she could not. Brutus Bataglia was too strong, and Martha was too weak to release herself from his grip. The little girl felt as if she were caught in a bear trap or something.

"You're hurling me."

"So?"

"Hey, cut it out."

"Shaddup."

"What do you want?"

"You."

"You can't have me."

"Sure -I can."

"I won't let you."

"I'm not asking, I'm telling, cunt. This isn't a request, this is a command, sweetbuns."

"Please… "

"Stop whimpering and kneel before me," he said.

"Don't make me do this," she said, sounding hysterical.

"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't," he said.

"I'll scream."

"Scream and when they find you your tongue will be ripped out."

"I'll call the cops later."

"You ain't gonna call anybody."

"How come?"

"Sooner or later I would get out of jail, at which time you would be dead meat. You would be a dead cunt."

"Please, have mercy on me, Brutus," she pleaded.

"Mercy?" the mean football player asked with a laugh.

"Y-y-y-y-y-y-y-yes," the little girl stammered.

"I don't know the meaning of the word," he said.

"Oh, dear Lord," the little girl heard herself say.

"Face it, cunt, the Lord ain't here. Just me. Me and you," Brutus Bataglia said, curling up one corner of his mouth to create a half-smile of inward amusement.

The little girl shivered. She could feel huge tears welling in her baby blue eyes. Her tears began to spill, down over her cheekbones.

Her cheeks.

Into her mouth.

Her tears tasted salty and bitter, mostly bitter, as if they were somehow tainted by her despair and hopelessness.

The little girl's cheeks were stained by the tracks of her tears. She could feel her eyes swelling and getting red as she cried with her feeling of intense hopelessness. She was convinced that her cherry was doomed, that all of her work saving her cherry even though her body was saying, "Pop it. Pop it," was for naught.

The little girl noticed, to her dismay, that she was having ever-increasing difficulty blinking. She fund that the insides of her eyelids were feeling like they were suddenly and magically transforming into a particularly rough variety of sandpaper.

"On your knees."

"To hell with you, Brutus Bataglia," she said defiantly.

He slapped her as hard as he could right across the face six times. He slapped her three times on either side of her face. He slapped her three times with the palm of her hand and three times with the knuckles at the back of her hand. She reeled backward.

She was stunned.

Dazed.

"What are y, y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-you going to make me d-d-d-d-do" the little girl asked.

The.boy laughed.

"Ever had cock in your mouth before, cunt" he asked.

"No way," she lied.

"Liar," he said.

He slapped her again.

"I heard about you and Ryan. Shit, cunt, I even heard about you and Mr. Busto," Brutus said, Her weeping continued, more violently now. She heaved with each sob.

"If you can suck them off, you can suck me off," he said.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay?" he asked.

"You heard me."

"Well, okay," he exclaimed happily.

In a flash the brutish jocks cock was out and she was down on her knees. There would be no preliminaries. There would be no "foreplay."

There was just going to be cocksucking. Brutus Bataglia was not the sort of boy who beat around the bush. He was in the mood to get right down to the nitty-gritty of the situation. He wanted to get right down to the meat and potatoes.

"Suck," he said.

His cock was fully erect. He had a full-fledged boner, there could be no doubt about that.

His cock was standing at attention just like a good soldier in front of his masculinity sloped loins.

The little girl quickly opened her mouth as far as she could get it. She had to open her mouth as far as she could get it if she wanted to suck the brutish football player's incredibly large tool of masculinity.

He rammed the head of his cock into her mouth and she began to suck on it. The little girl sucked on it as hard as she could… The little girl had an almost overwhelming urge to bite his cock right off with her pearly white and perfectly straight choppers.

But she didn't do it.

She was too scared.

She figured he might be able to stop her before her teeth managed to work all the way through his cock meat and if that happened the strawberry blonde knew that Brutus Bataglia would, sure and shooting', kill her right there on the spot. He would leave her bloody corpse lying right there legs akimbo in a pool of blood.

She kept sucking, and concentrated all of her attention on keeping her teeth OFF of the head of his dick.

"You little fool," the intrinsically sadistic football player said.

The little girl didn't have the slightest idea what the hulking football player was talking about, but she didn't like the sound of it.

"Did you think that I would be satisfied with having just the head of my cock sucked," the football player asked.

Martha still didn't know to what Brutus was referring, but she was liking his train of thought less and less as he proceeded.

"No way," he said. The little girl sensed his ass cheeks tensing until they were hard. The man pressed his buttocks together as tightly as he could possibly get them. "I will not be satisfied until you are sucking at the entire length of my cock."

The little girl could feel all of the blood draining from her face. She could tell that she was becoming at that instant as white as a ghost. She could feel her facial features becoming as pale as a sheet. She could feel herself getting dizzy. She could feel a fresh film of icy horror sweat covering the entire milky white surface area of her lovely, diminutive body.

"That's right, cunt. This ain't gonna be just a run of the mill blow job. Oh no, it is going to be more than that. It is going to be much much much more than that. This is going to be a full-fledged face fuck sweetheart. I know it's gonna hurt, cunt, but you better not bite me. I'll fucking pull all of the teeth out of your head one by one without using anything to kill the pain if you bite my cock when I am fucking that pretty face of yours," the football player said, and then he spat a big chunk of phlegm onto the grass beside the kneeling virgin.