Anonymous - Wet Desires

The little girl tried to think of what she could do. There had to be something she could do to relieve some of the inevitable pain in her throat.

But she couldn't think of anything, no matter how hard she tried. Her brain felt as if it were traveling in a thousand "different directions.

No matter how hard the little girl tried she couldn't hold onto a single thought for more than a fraction of a second. She could feel her stream-of-consciousness being shattered by the intensity of her terror.

She tried to relax the muscles in her throat, but she quickly discovered that this didn't do a hell of a lot of good.

She was having trouble relaxing ANY part of her body, and she was having the least luck of all trying to relax the part of her that was directly under attack.

Her nostrils flared.

She made snorting sounds.

Pig-like sounds.

Then something occurred to her. She should move her knees back on the ground so that her neck was straight. She was smart enough to know that the complete violation of her gullet would be easier for both of them if her neck were straight. The football player placed his huge hands on the top of her head.

He pushed his fingers through her thick hair until he was pressing against her scalp. He allowed his fingers to creep along her skull until the tips of his long blunt fingers were down by the nape of her neck just below the base of her skull. He pressed his fingertips into the flesh at the back of her neck hard enough to hurt her.

He then turned his wrists so that his palms were covering her shell-like ears, pinning her ears to the sides of her head. He made it very difficult for the little girl to hear anything at all in this manner.

The things that the little girl could still hear sounded as if they were coming from far far away. The football player held the little girl's head so tightly that she feared he was going to crush her skull at any second as if it were the peel of a grape.

The football player held the pretty little girl's head so tightly that Martha realized, to her dismay, that she could no longer pull away from him, from his cock and balls, with her head and shoulders. The little girl realized that she could not turn her face from side to side. The only direction the little girl could move her head and shoulders was forward, toward him, and that made a lot of sense.

Forward was the only direction that Brutus Bataglia was interested in.

Brutus pushed forward.

The tip of his cock pushed into the back of her mouth, and then right down into her throat.

The little girl, just as she had expected, began to gag horribly and painfully immediately.

Tears streamed down her face. Her throat was instantly on fire with pain. She felt as if she had been stabbed in the gullet with a red hot poker. She could tell there was no way the boy was going to stop pushing forward until the entire length of his cock was down her throat. She could tell that he was going to push until his bails were resting on her chin.

She could tell that he was going to push forward until her little button nose was imbedded in the thick patch of black pubic hair above the base of the football player. When that happened the little girl would be totally unable to breathe. She was horrified to realize this.

He laughed.

He loved it.

He was being pleasured in two ways by this convulsing in her throat. For one thing, since he was intrinsically sadistic, he was pleasured just by the fact that he was hurting her.

More directly, each spasm inside her throat was squeezing and tugging at his prick. This sensation caused a rippling of sexual pleasure to course the entire length of the brutish football player's spine.

The little girl felt her nose push into his ebony bush. She could feel his scrotal sack resting, surprisingly heavily, on her chin.

He withdrew immediately, in spite of the fact that he LOVED how it felt when she was sucking at the entire length of his cock at once.

He did not want to suffocate her. As everyone knows, it's no fun fucking the face of a corpse.

He fucked her throat until she was raw, until her gagging all but stopped because of the exhaustion in her gullet.

She likened this new sexual technique she was learning to that of the skills possessed by sword-swallowers, such as those that Martha Maidier had once seen in the three-ring circus.

He fucked her face faster.

Faster still.

Harder.

Very hard.

He pulled back at the last moment, just as he was about to come. He shot his wad with just the head of his cock in her mouth. The little girl was pleased about this because it meant the come would strike her tongue and she would be able to savor the flavor of his jism.

He screamed.

He came.

She gulped.

She was pleased to find that the come had a soothing effect on her ravaged gullet tissues. She had been convinced all along that this savage face fuck was going to leave her with a terrible sore throat, but now she was no longer so sure.

Brutus's come seemed to be washing her pain away, as if by magic.

Martha never told anyone what happened with Brutus Bataglia under the bleachers on that horrible day.

The strawberry blonde virgin kept the awful facts to herself for the rest of her life. For a time, the little girl didn't date anyone at all.

As a matter of fact, the little girl's next sexual encounter didn't have anything to do with dating at all.

It was several weeks later, after the beginning of summer vacation, when mommy got sick. She had something wrong with her gal bladder and she had to go into the hospital for some sort of operation.

No one talked to the little girl very much about her mother's illness.

Just judging from the expressions on everyone's faces, however, the little girl got tie impression that it had to be something serious.

Everyone was walking around with grave expressions on their faces.

The petite strawberry blonde got the impression that her mother was dying, and that no one had the courage to tell her.

While Mommy was away at the hospital the little girl was sent to stay with her Uncle Jimmy.

Uncle Jimmy, as it turned out, was a dirty old man, and it was with he that the virginal teenager had her next sexual encounter.

Ever since the little girl had her ace raped by Brutus Bataglia, she had not been feeling all that horny.

Every time she thought about sex, as a matter of fact, she started to break out in cold sweat, just as if she feared she were about to be sexually abused all over again.

But things were different once the little girl began to live with Uncle Jimmy. She liked him. He liked her. They were comfortable with one another. They were relaxed when they were together.

They could talk to one another. Their inhibitions were very low when they were sharing each other's company.

Then came the night that Uncle Jimmy broke out a few bottles of wine and asked the strawberry blonde if she would like to share them with him after dinner.

"Sure," the little girl replied, naturally enough.

And so, Martha Maidier, for the first time in her life, became drunk. She found that, in this brand new state of inebriation, that she didn't think about the horrible things that Brutus Bataglia did to her with his humongous cock.

And, the little girl could tell by the naughty expression on Uncle Jimmy's face, that he was thinking the same things she was. The little girl was wondering if she would survive her stint as Uncle Jimmy's housemate with her cherry intact.

Uncle jimmy was unmarried and lived alone. He loved sharing his house with the extraordinarily beautiful teenager. As soon as they had finished the second bottle of wine Uncle Jimmy made his move.

"Would you like to play a game with me, Martha?"