Ward Fulton - The Violated Virgin

She felt the electric thrill as her finger touched her clitoris, already hard and throbbing. She gripped it, caressed it, rubbed the shaft, pinched it, and her hips began undulating gently. In her mind she remembered Carole's tongue paying homage to her pussy, bringing her even greater delights than the hard prick which had cruelly defiled her earlier. But had it been that cruel? Had Donald really hurt her that much? He may have scared her, being stronger and holding her down, but once he had slipped that lovely long cock into her eager pulsating pussy, had it been that bad? She had to admit honestly it hadn't; she had loved it. She relished the thought of it cramming deep into her depths, its thickness pushing aside her cunt-lips, probing her vagina and sending shivers of excitement up to the mouth of her womb. Deeper … deeper, Donald… let me have it all, let me have that rod, all the way.

Suzanne's fingers were pushing in and out of her wet, warm cavern, the tantalizing sensations only made greater by the warm water lapping around her body, licking at her breasts as they almost floated on top of the surface. Her hips were moving quicker and quicker, making waves that only stimulated every inch of her skin, making her wish Donald were there, his tongue licking her all over. Not only Donald, but Ted and Clayton, all three of them, their hands, tongues and cocks all dragging over her, pushing into every crevice, bringing her the greatest delight she was capable of experiencing. Yes, yes, all of them; all those three wonderful cocks, all together, all pushing into her. Yes, two cocks up her twat, the third up her asshole. She was being fucked by them all at the same time. She slid one hand between her buttocks and pushed a finger into her anus. Oh, Jeez, she couldn't stand it. The sensations were mounting. Her asshole was on fire. Her twat was oozing her juices. Her breasts were going to explode. Higher and higher… quicker and quicker… rub that clitoris, up and down, pinch it, squeeze it… fuck me, fuck me… Donald… deeper. Ted, quicker. Clayton, give that lovely big black piece of meat to me. All of it, plunging deep into me. Oh, yes, yes…

With a strangled cry, Suzanne's body heaved, sending large splashes of water up the sides of the tub, spilling over onto the floor as she convulsed and felt her orgasm mounting, shaking her entire body, and from her mouth came little animal moans of ecstasy.

Slowly the feeling receded, and she lay still, her fingers still manipulating her flesh slowly, gently as the waves of emotion receded, becoming still as the waves in the bathtub. She opened her eyes and stared down at herself. Oh, Christ, that was wonderful. It wasn't just the physical orgasm; it was the thought that perhaps it might have been those boys again. Yes, again, again. She wanted then again, loathful, hateful, hurting; but she wanted them. Oh, God, what was she going to do? What would she do when they came knocking at her door again, and something told her they were coming. They would be there, all three of them, panting, with enormous hard-ons sticking out of their pants, those lovely shafts of gleaming meat, two white, one black, each throbbing with anticipation, eager to sink into her unresisting body.

Biting her lip, Suzanne climbed out of the tub and reached for a towel.

As she stood in front of the mirror, she stared at herself, filled with loathing that she had allowed herself to be so carried away. What was happening to her? Did all girls go through this when they first found out about sex? She looked at her body. It was the same as it had been a week before. There was no difference. Her eyes lifted, taking in her crotch, her breasts, and then she looked at her face, at the smooth round cheeks, the slightly upturned nose, the wide, sensual mouth, and her eyes, staring back at her with a new expression, a new awareness of her womanhood. And in that glance, she knew she had forever lost her innocence; her childhood lay buried under a sea of come that spurted out of a large, jerking penis while she stood beside it, hugging it with her arms, crying because it was too big to take, and all she could do was hug it and cry, "Fuck me, fuck me!"

With a shudder, Suzanne walked into the living room and over to the closet. As she slowly got dressed, she knew it was going to be a difficult day, yet ten minutes later, as she bounced gaily down the stairs and out into the sunshine, she smiled to herself and hummed a tune. Come on, things weren't so bad, really; and what was so wrong about letting oneself go?

"Hi, Suzanne, how are you today?"

It was her slovenly landlady, calling out from the door of her apartment.

"Fine, thanks, and you?"

"Oh, I'm okay. Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Sure is."

She ran out the building and up the sidewalk, suddenly realizing she only had seven minutes to make her class.

The voice of the psychology instructor droned on, and Suzanne stared blankly up at the podium, only catching an occasional word he said. She had always liked her psychology class, not only because of the instructor who happened to be rather handsome, but because of her interest in the subject in relations to her project with the poorer classes in the neighborhood. Yet today she found her interest wandering, her mind too filled with other thoughts.

She suddenly became aware he was addressing her.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, feeling very foolish. "I didn't catch that."

The instructor smiled.

"I was saying that many people are under the impression that the poorer classes are more sexually active because it is the one entertainment that costs them nothing. Have you found anything in your recent studies to substantiate this theory?"

Suzanne flushed, and in her mind she saw again the three boys, naked in her living room, and her own body heaving beneath their attack.

"Er… Well…" she began, "I really haven't done enough research yet. But it sounds reasonable, don't you think?"

The instructor smiled. "Not necessarily. Statistics show that there is just as much promiscuity among the more affluent classes. I personally do not think that poverty necessarily means a higher rate of sexual activity. After all, individual sex drives are not predicated on economic status. However, the illegitimate birth rate among the poor seems to indicate that they perhaps do not have as much regard for the consequences of their actions, and do not invest in contraceptive devices to the same degree as the rich. One of the tragedies of the lower income groups is their unusually high family size, which only compounds their unfortunate economic position."

A student raised his hand.

"Perhaps the poor indulge in large families as a gesture of accomplishment," he said. "It is the one function they can perform without training. It's like they feel they might not be able to work their way up to a position of social eminence, or professional respectability, so they prove themselves biologically instead of intellectually."

The instructor laughed. "Interesting, but I don't think valid, in view of research. Most economically deprived fathers are more interested in satisfying their sex drive than their urge for social recognition."

The young man was not to be put off.

"What about the kids, though?" he persisted. "I've talked to some who feel they've really made it when they can ball a rich chick instead of someone in their own neighborhood. And there're lots of girls from Grosse Pointe who'll go with a guy from a poor neighborhood because of the kicks involved. You know, the idea of slumming, of being manhandled forcibly to satisfy some masochistic tendency."

"Ah." The instructor raised his eyebrows. "That's something else again.

True, many women will achieve greater sexual satisfaction from a violent sexual encounter rather than the more refined or sophisticated approach. And presuming that a young man from a rough neighborhood will be more sexually aggressive, there is the sadistic impulse to prove himself with a girl from a more refined background. And some girls will often enjoy such encounters out of a perverse streak in their nature, the desire to be degraded out of guilt for their affluent upbringing."