Ron Taylor - Stepdaughter in bondage

"Are you sure you've never done this before?" Lara gasped, slamming her cunt home atop my face. My tongue wiggled up inside her and I wondered – was it true! Was this the first time I'd ever eaten a pussy? I seemed to be adjusting to it like a duck to water.

Back home in Reckardsville it would have been scandalous, what I was doing. Reckardsville is a small town and gossip spreads fast. Everybody knows who is doing what, and when, and where, and how. But I wasn't in Reckardsville now. I was in a small ton in central Missouri and, probably, the people who lived here thought that gossip and rumor were just as widespread. And I was only passing through, a stranger in a strange land. Nobody who lived in this town should even have reason to care what I did or who I did it with. If I wanted to eat Lara McMinn's pussy, it was her secret and mine. Tomorrow I'd be gone and that would be the end of it.

Would it? For me? As I lapped hungrily at the sweet juices of her cunt, I somehow knew that the very next chance I got, I would be performing this act again. Maybe without the aid of bondage. Maybe I'd just see a girl I liked and put the matter to her straightforwardly and we'd adjourn to a bedroom or some secluded place where I could get my mouth onto her crack. And I'd eat, and I'd eat, and I'd eat…

What about men? I didn't know. Men were something else. When I thought of a man, I thought either of Norman and Bucky fucking atop me while I counted sheep and tiled to stay awake underneath. Or of Tony and Jerry, ravishing me cruelly but with such passion my body could do nothing but respond, unwilling or no. I warn't sure about men. I'd have to do some looking around, some more testing. God, I might have been a latent lesbian all these years, just waiting for someone to turn me on and out. The thought was chilling but it didn't prevent my tongue from stabbing into Lara again and again as she rode my face.

My finger was pushing at Lara's asshole. She squealed softly atop me, and she wiggled her butt, but she didn't get out of the way and I took that for a good sign. I pushed a little harder, till her sphincter muscle quivered, then relaxed, and my finger stabbed into her anus.

"Owwwwwww!" she cried above me, and there was a flutter in her voice, a rising and falling of pitch that might have signified pain or pleasure. I hesitated a moment, listening to her cry out. She wiggled her bottom and an inch of my finger slipped up her rectum. That was the sign I was looking for.

My tongue shot up her cunt and I started to work my finger in and out. Slowly, at first, because she was tight. But she was cooperating, and evidently willing herself to go loose and free around me. My finger moved with greater and greater ease slippin through the greasy liquid tightness of her asshole and rectum, and each stroke I gave her made Lara McMinn's small red mouth whimper, high above me. Yes, I thought, if this is what you want, then Rebecca Lee Butler is the girl to give it to you.

"If you're stopping," Lara warned, "I'll whip you! I mean it! With an honest to God whip!" She caught my head in bath hands, held it steady while she fucked my face with her sloppy cunt. The juices smeared my mouth, wetted my nostrils reminded me what I was supposed to be doing. I plunged my finger all the way into her asshole and raised my lips slightly, fastening them to the glisteny, hard button of her clitoris. As my finger worked in and out of her butt, I began to suck her nubbin, and I mean suck!

I used my lips and my tongue, even my teeth. I knew it must be agonizingly painful to Lara, but I didn't care. My chin was tight against the mouth of her hole and the girl-jism oozed from her in an apparently nonstop river flow. And like a leech, through it all I grasped her clit in my mouth and I sucked and I chewed and I pulled, with Lara screaming at the top of her lungs and collapsing, her pussy glued to my exhausted mouth. My finger gave two or three more spasmodic jerks in her sucking rectum and it was all over except the moaning.

She did plenty of that, quivering, throbbing, atop me, and I guess I did a little bit myself. There was a hot fire in my pussy, brought on solely by what I had done to Lara. As she went limp over my mouth, I got my finger out of her ass and thrust it down, into my crotch. Two strokes, three strokes, four strokes over my clitoris, and I was coming again too, sobbing out my joy into the muff of hair that covered my whimpering face.

"Aren't you going to untie me?" I asked weakly as Lara stretched naked and glowing beside me. My free hand slid across her belly, into the puff of reddish hair at the arch of her joined thighs, framed in the piece artfully cut out of her sheer black panties. She covered my hand with her own, pressed my fingers onto the sopping wet muffin, the itchy warm slit lurking amid the hair, the slit I'd already licked and sucked to pulsating orgasm.

"Not yet," she said. "I think you enjoy it too much."

"No," I said quickly, straining with hand and foot, trying to show her how anxious I was to be released from my bondage. The steel band of handcuff chafed my wrist. "Please untie me. I don't want to be trussed up like some kind of animal. I want…"

"Do you know what you want, Rebecca?" She was on her side now, facing me, and her eyes were clear and penetrating. Lara continued to stare me down. Finally I surrendered. I settled back onto the bed, my free hand laid across my tummy. I shook my head with reluctance. I didn't know what I wanted.

"This," she said, indicating the handcuff, the leather loop holding my ankle, "this is just a game, Rebecca. Whether you know it or not, you're playing that game. I think I understand you. Small town girl? Brought up to think of yourself as a nice girl, too, and we all know that nice girls don't do certain things, don't enjoy certain feelings. Two to one your mother was always evasive when you talked about sex. If you talked about it. And when you decided to surrender, you picked someone who was safe and stodgy and probably as inexperienced as you were, and it was a fizzle, the way that kind of fucking all too often turns out to be. Am I getting warm, dear?"

My blush was all the answer she needed. Lara was batting 1000.

"Boys!" she said. "They have one big advantage. Staying power. But until they've been taught their trade, they're worse than useless. They're frustrating to any woman who really wants something because they don't know how to give it to her. A girl should never get it from a boy, her first time. She should find herself a man. Someone who knows how to make her sob and shake and moan. Someone – maybe like that terrible stepfather of yours? Mmmmmmm?"

"My stepfather was a sonofabitch. He tied me to the bed and he raped me. The night my mother died. I'd kill him again if I had the…" I stopped, big-eyed. I'd let it slip, finally. My confession. Maybe when I got into court I could tell the judge that Lara hadn't read my rights to me beforehand. Maybe that would save me from the chair.

Lara sat up. "Kill?" she said. "Is there something you haven't told me, Rebecca? Something that perhaps I ought to know?"

I took a deep breath. "Will you unfasten me first? I can't even think straight with these things tying me down!"

Lam slid closer, till her stiff-nippled tits touched my arm. She put her hand on my cheek. "You can trust me," she said. "So talk. Anyway, you're in no position to be making demands and, if you've killed somebody, maybe it's safer to keep you tied down."

She was right. I tested the handcuff, found it hadn't weakened since the last time I flexed my hand in it. I was in no position to be making demands. "Okay," I said, and I told her the part of the story I'd kept to myself earlier. How I'd killed my stepfather in a fit of outrage and shame, how I was on the run, that I had to get dressed and on my way before the avenging angels of justice caught up with me.