Excerpt: Continue reading
Excerpt: Continue reading
Step-Sister’s Secret is the story of what happens when Sara, a teenage girl with purple hair, glasses and a dirty mind finds her step-brother’s collection of dirty stories in his room when he is away at college.When she confronts him about them and their illicit nature, the siblings are pulled into an intense whirlwind of seduction, tension, guilt and sex.
Here is an excerpt: Continue reading
She came to me during the transit of venus.
The world was blue gray at dusk. I went to the beach to dry out, to forget, to find some peace.
I’d been a reporter when the war started. Which war? One of them; they weren’t numbered anymore. Some reaction to some act of horror and we send a thousand boys to a desert somewhere. It wasn’t important anymore.
I was working for the AP, I’d traveled to Kuwait first, then Kutar. During one of the endless rides across the barren plains the world exploded into fire. I saw three kids melt in front of me. Three others were torn apart. I only lost my arm.
A few years later my parents died and left me enough money that I didn’t have to try and act whole enough to fit in with other reporters. I didn’t have to sit on planes and watch as the people next to me tried not to stare at my hook or my plastic hand.
I sold their houses and their cars and their stocks and even my father’s damn horses. I bought a place by the beach. I found solace in the sea. I found comfort in the silence. I found peace under the stars.
Prompt: I really enjoyed your Flash Fiction on Friday. I thought I’d take a shot at sparking your imagination with a tiny confession – I have a huge and inappropriate crush on my French professor. I know he’s married, but I still have dreams about him bending me over his desk. My pronunciation is terrible. Maybe that’s why I fantasize about showing up in his office and beg for his help.
Monsieur Desrosiers was, frankly, a curmudgeon. Around fifty, salt and pepper hair, a strong jaw, nearly six feet tall and roguishly handsome I think he was getting fed up with America very quickly.
I could only imagine what he thought of me and my horrible pronunciation.
It was one of those coincidences that happened a lot in the city. A friend of a friend. I’d met him at a party, on a rooftop, one a day much lovelier than the one of which I speak. We’d had too much wine, or I had wine and he had whiskey. We talked about art and the death of certain media. Somehow a conversation about Marina Abramović turned into something about kink and I made some vague comment about my own twisted predilections. He picked it up and and we danced around the subjects of bondage, S&M, roleplay.
Eventually I leaned back against a wall and wanted him to lean into me and he did. He was slightly unshaven and handsome in his glasses and he was very taken with me and it made me feel a little powerful and a little tipsy and I thought it would be nice to kiss him, but he didn’t work up the courage or maybe he just didn’t want to kiss me.
We were going out for drinks. That was all. Just to see if we were both alright. This was after our break up and after the crying.
We eyed the subway signs as they passed the window. All the numbers going up. Our hands found each others, but she wouldn’t look me in the eye. Somehow we didn’t stand when the stop that would take us to drinks came. Somehow we were back at my apartment again.
The kissing was furious, contagious, biting, hungry. My hands on her, noticing the changes, how she was thinner, how she was a little more aggressive now, like she was showing off. Trying to prove she wasn’t that little girl anymore.
I needed a lot of things all at once and sitting next to her on the couch I wasn’t getting any of them fast enough. I pushed her down, pulled at the buttons of her jeans and slapped her hands away, though I wasn’t sure if she was trying to stop me or help me. I pulled her denim, along with her panties, down to her knees and held her down as my mouth found her cunt.
She tasted the same. It made me hard the same way.
The dry cleaner (a lovely woman from Belarus, I believe) had my order hanging near the cash register, waiting for me. She tried to brush away my tip, but as always she eventually conceded with a smile and daintily shoved the few extra dollars (as daintily as someone can shove something) into her vast brassiere.
Usually by 8:30, which my pocketwatch told me it had just struck, I’d be making coffee, but since my employer was “with guest” and the various grinding of beans and screaming of espresso making apparati would, I’m sure, be a less than ideal wake up call, I was out running the errands which I usually saved for later in the day.
The mornings when my employer had an overnight guest (or guests, as sometimes happens) were some of the most challenging in my professional life, I assure you. Still, in their own way, they were some of the most rewarding.
Most mornings my employer, Mr Leinhardt, and I would share some light banter on topics both political and scandalous while I gave him a shave, dressed him and attend to his breakfast. On mornings where Mr Leinhardt was entertaining I instead had to focus on the detailed movements and well thought out strategies of readying food, newspapers, clothing, and other essentials whilst not disturbing he nor his scantily clad (if that) visitor. I assure you this is no small feat and it takes all of my not unconsiderable skills.
After procuring the provisions for the day I made my way through the servants entrance and through the house, cleaning up a spilled cocktail and a pair of stockings in the hallway. I then entered the master bedroom silently and attempted to take the least amount of time possible picking up the scattered clothes and various detritus of my employer’s nocturnal activities, which by the look of things were both violent and sordid. It’s hard, I admit, not to steal glances at his guests. That morning specifically it was impossible not to notice the shapely legs of my employer’s acquaintance. The curve of her bottom, which seemed to my keen eyes to have earned a bruise or two, though one never knows if those bruises were collected in the scuffle and decadence of the evening before or, like so many objet d’art one picks up in one’s travels, she simply came that way.
There was a single breast exposed by the tangled limbs and wrinkled sheets of their morning tableau. It was pert, economic even, not the full hand heavy bosom I am fond of, but a perfect example of a flavor that is not my favorite, yet so lovely it gave me cause to question my preference.
I only paused a moment to take in the sight, feeling a bit foolish standing there holding a handful of her silk under things and a feather duster.
It was half past nine and by my employer’s orders he was to be up by ten even in the most extreme of cases. I started some bacon, I washed fruit. I did it all quietly, but banged and bumped around just enough to let them know someone was in the kitchen.
I had already steamed the young lady’s fetching silk dress (last season’s Givenchy?) and laid out her shoes (thankfully not Louboutin) and undergarments when I heard shower start. Mr Leinhardt did not like to dine until he was clean and fresh. As well, when having company, he often enjoyed entertaining his guest in his large, almost cavernous, shower. That, I’m sure, was a sight.
Since they were up I could grind the coffee beans, prep steamed milk and warm the cups. I had soy milk on hand in case his guest was vegan. One never knows these days. The table was laid out with plates and silverware, cloth napkins quickly twisted and folded into the shapes of roses, croissants, fruit, a variety of jams, all of the various the accoutrements.
When I’m not exactly in the mood, all she has to do is say “no.”
It makes so little sense. I mean, it’s actually silly. I’m not touching her, I’m tired and sore and grumpy and she takes my hand and puts it on her breast which is a reasonable form of seduction. When I squeeze said breasts she pushes my hand away.
“No,” she says in that slightly too serious way.
It’s not even remotely plausible. She just put my hand on her breast! No?
She’s aware. She holds the magnet opposite disire. She may have even thought she came up with this game.
Still, I’m hard. Not from the breast, but from the “no.”
There are other words that with do that. Weighty words. A variety of them, actually. The common denominator is that they are all forbidden.
I write dirty stories here, but the stories in my head are far dirtier. The fetish I seem to have is that it doesn’t matter what we are doing, what I’m writing about, what plot or gimmick, it just has to be “bad.”
Now, I’m a forward thinking fellow. To say my friends and lovers are liberal is a serious understatement. We accept so much as long as it is consensual and safe (or at least all parties are aware of the risk.) Still this “wrongness” this “dirtiness” is like a drug. There doesn’t need to be any reality to this forbiddenness, in fact I don’t want anything that’s really wrong. Cheating repulses me, consent is paramount to my arousal in many ways, for all the little girl games I’ve played the idea of anyone underage is horrifying, hell I don’t even flirt with co-workers, still that need for the forbidden is so strong even the lightest hint of it is enough to drive me mad.
And so it goes.
She came to the park every day with sad eyes and a notebook. Violet with the smooth chocolate hair held back with a pink barrette and the huge liquid eyes that were almost cartoonish in size. Violet who was barely five feet tall and, in her own opinion, was built far too much like a young boy to be found beautiful by anyone. Violet who longed to be a curvy starlet like Sophia Loren, but would never be more than a flat chested mouse of a girl, and desperately tried to hide herself under sweaters and long dresses.
The accordion player came to the park every day as well and played songs of love and longing. When Violet listened to the sound and the way it echoed in the nearby stone underpass she felt like she was by the Seine.
Her lips were far too full for such a fragile bird-like girl. She had no right to have lips like that. It was, among other things, unfair.
There was an aesthetic there, in her dress, which was layers of diaphanous sepia silk and gauzy cotton. The way her hair was timeless, retro, modern, all at once. The softness around the edges of her pale and thin body. Like she was captured by an old camera.
If she were a picture I could keep her under my bed, in a secret box, to finger her edges when alone.
Instead I took her for drinks and nervously edged around her silence and her eyes. And longed for her lips. Her lips on a glass, her lips on a cigarette, her lips on a straw, her lips on everything but mine.
Her notebook was absurd in its delicacy. A fountain pen, mahogany ink, a script so fine it could be another language. Surely English was far too clumsy a choice for words so precise.
If her lips were unfair then her words were cruelly beautiful. Melancholy and full of longing. One of those stories that is at once sad and yet so lovely you can’t help but smile.
The hesitation bloomed into tension, then my chance (if I had one) was gone.
So it goes.
I’ll give him credit, he was damn respectful. I mean, we’d been there for a week and a half and we’d been pushed and pulled together over and over again and he never made a move. Every hour my body grew more hungry, though my days were full of songs and chants and raised signs.
I saw him go from a clean cut college kid in a cardigan and jeans into a scruffy looking anarchist, red faced from screaming and garbed in the mishmash of sweaters and coats we’d all gotten from donations.
Big blue eyes, wide and wet, sparkled when the tears came.
Her toes turned in as she looked from one direction to another. The city was huge and loomed over her, full of skyscrapers and lights. People shuffling past paid her no mind.
Her bottom lip trembled. She looked down at her shiny Mary Jane shoes. She was wearing her favorite summer dress, blue to bring out her eyes. Her prettiest rainbow-striped socks adorned her legs all the way up to her thighs. At the end of two perfect little chocolate brown pigtails two rainbow ribbons matched her socks.
A van pulled up to the corner, big black and shiny, blotting out everything else. Even the hubcaps were black. The windows were tinted too dark to see anything inside. A gust of wind blew up the little girl’s dress. When the van window hissed down, she was tugging on the hem to restrain the skirt.
“Lost?” The voice was deep, strong and cold.
She peered into the van but in the darkness saw only two eyes staring at her. The baleful gaze made her squirm.
“Oh … yes sir, I think I’m pretty lost. Do you know where the bus stop is, mister?”
“Where ya headed?” The voice was gravelly and hard, reminding her of daddy’s, but this man’s voice was even rougher and stronger.
“I live on Blossom Street. I think I’m supposed to get the Number 3 bus, but I don’t remember where the stop is and â€””
“I know where Blossom Street is. I pass it all the time. It’s getting late. You better just let me drive you home.” He leaned over and opened the passenger side door.
The lost little girl looked down at her shoes. A colder wind blew and she shivered. The summer dress was fine all day, but now the sun had set and the wind was picking up. Goosebumps speckled her arms.
“I probably shouldn’t, mister. I’m not supposed to. I mean I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”
The laugh sounded like a growl or was it the other way around? “What’s your name, little girl?”
She shrugged, toes turning in farther, still holding down her dress because the wind was coming faster and the long socks didn’t quiet reach the hem.
That laugh again. “April showers bring May flowers.” The little rhyme sounded odd on his lips. “Get in the van, April. It’s going to rain soon and you’ll be cold and wet. I know where Blossom Street is. The last bus already left and it will only get colder out there on the street.”
April bit her lip and her eyes teared up again. She didn’t know what to do. Daddy was probably already mad. She wasn’t supposed to be out this late and if the last bus had left she didn’t know how she would get home.
“Oh! Okay … okay, mister. Thank you.” The vehicle was so tall she had to hold on to door and seat to pull herself up. Before she could study him the man reached across her to slam the door. The automatic locks thudded.
She found herself sitting in a big leather seat. The city looked different from behind tinted glass. The van was warm and smelled of grownup things: spicy cologne and pipe smoke of the kind her uncle used to smoke.
The man was very tall and large, not exactly fat but big like a football player or something. He reminded her of Bluto in the Popeye comics. He didn’t have a beard though, just stubble. His face was serious, eyes looking ahead as the van moved out.
She shrank back in the big seat, hardly able to see over the dashboard. “Th-thanks, mister,” she said meekly as they drove slowly down the street. When they came to a light, she thought she recognized the street and it seemed to be the way home.
The man turned to her and their eyes locked. He wasn’t smiling and she couldn’t tell if he was mad, happy, angry or what. She felt a chill as his hand reached out, but he only pulled the seatbelt across her.
“We have to buckle you up and make sure you’re safe.” His voice was just as rough and gravely. He had an accent.
Once she was buckled in she couldn’t see over the dashboard at all. He stepped on the gas and the van sped up. She jerked at a noise, almost a moan, from the back of the van. The man craned his neck backward with concern on his face but returned eyes to the road with a satisfied grin.
It started to rain heavily. The sky darkened in seconds from purple dusk to night black. April’s heart beat faster as the hard rain rattled on the roof. From the back of the van she heard another sound, like a whimper.
“Um … mister.” She felt tears in her eyes. “Is somebody back there?”
The man’s eyes narrowed on her in assessment. “Don’t worry. That’s just my pet rabbit. She’s scared because of the rain.”
April’s eyes widened. “A bunny?”
He gave her a half smile. “Yeah, it’s just a little thing.”
She smiled brightly. “A little tiny bunny rabbit?”
The man’s dark demeanor cracked into a full smile. “Yep.”
“Um … mister … you think I could see it? I mean hold it? I’ll be really careful! Just for a minute?” She strained against the seatbelt trying to see in the back of the van, but it was dark. She just made out the glint of a cage.
“Well, I don’t know. I don’t want you moving around in the van, not with it raining. I’d have to pull over somewhere.”
April’s face screwed up with thought. She was already very late. A few minutes wouldn’t matter. She strongly wished to hold the fuzzy warm bunny. Maybe the man didn’t want it. Maybe he would give it to her if she was nice!
“That’s ok,” she said. “You can just pull over somewhere. I’ll be really gentle, I swear!” She was hopping in her seat. Her dress rode up and almost showed her panties. She blushed and pulled it back down.
The man looked around on the road but went even faster. “I think I know a place. Hold on.”
They drove for a few minutes and then pulled into a parking garage. The headlights shone into the empty garage. The man unbuckled himself and turned to face April who was smiling and shaking with excitement.
“Now you have to be careful, she is a skittish little thing,” he said as he unbuckled April’s seatbelt, which had a heavy and complicated clasp.
He flipped a few switches on the dashboard. The headlight went off and a light in the back of the van went on. April heard a rustle of movement in a cage and another whimper.
The man got out of his seat. He had to crouch to move into the back of the van, but April could easily stand up and move around. The back of the van was painted black with two tinted windows in the back doors and a small round window on the side. Two large doors on the left side were locked with a padlock.
The cage was the size appropriate to train large puppies. It contained one of the cutest rabbits April had ever seen. The rabbit was about four feet tall, scrunched up in a ball. Her skin was very pale and her hair was blond and curly, cut short like a boy’s. She had two perfectly white rabbit ears mounted on a headband, popping out of that curly blond hair.
The rabbit wore furry white mittens. She wore matching furry boots as well but was otherwise naked.
April smiled. Her friend at school had a bunny, but it wasn’t even half as big and cute. This one had bright green eyes and really big pouty lips. Her breasts were tiny but the large puffy nipples were very pink. She seemed to be shivering.
As the man fumbled near, the cage shook and the rabbit’s eyes darted all around for some escape. “She’s very skittish, like I said. You have to be careful when you pet her. I bet she’ll like you though. I have big rough hands, but yours are small and soft. Just be gentle with her and she’ll warm up to you.”
He took a thick ring of keys out of his work pants and unlocked the cage. The poor little bunny, pink skin pale and raised in goosebumps, cowered in the corner.
“It’s okay. Come here, girl.” He thrust large hands into the cage and said to April, “I haven’t even named her yet. I just got her last week.”
He put his hands under her arms and picked her up effortlessly. She kicked her feet reflexively but was mostly frozen in fear. Clear of the cage, she curled into a ball in his arms. He had one arm around her and one arm under her with his hand resting on her bottom.
April noticed that although the rabbit was a skinny and scraggly, she had many plump and puffy parts. Her lips and nipples stuck out prominently. Her bottom was round with two puffy pussy lips between her thin legs. April was breathing hard, excited to play with a bunny. She wasn’t sure about this strange man who had given her a ride, but she didn’t think any really bad person would have a bunny this cute.
The stranger turned to April and held the rabbit out to her, holding it with both hands under its arms so the nude body hung down and its ears stuck up ridiculously.
“She’s so pretty!” April squealed excitedly.
“Sit down and I’ll put her in your lap,” the man said patiently.
April quickly sat Indian style and straightening her dress. The man lowered the rabbit into her lap. April smiled brightly and petted the rabbit girl on her head, running her fingers through the golden locks and fingering the fluffy white ears.
Shaking in her arms, the rabbit cuddled for warmth in the folds of the girl’s dress. She rolled up into a fetal position again, paws and boots both between April’s legs, buttocks protruding awkwardly to the side.
“Her hair is so soft!” April marveled, petting the blonde curls and letting her fingers run down the rabbit’s back and bottom. The man’s jaw clenched as he watched.
Her fear melted away like the chill as the rabbit pressed herself against April’s body. The strokes of April’s hand soothed her. The rabbit raised her bottom high like a cat and April let her fingers brush against the hairless slit with the puffy lips.
“The vet takes good care of her, makes sure she is waxed and fresh.” The man’s voice was smoother now.
April knew how rabbits liked to be petted. She had watched her friend play with his rabbit for hours. Slipping a finger over the puffy pink lips of the rabbit’s sex, she felt the smoothness of the inner lips, the tiny nub of the clit and wetness in the rabbit’s slit. She first slipped her pinky into the rabbit’s tight hole then coated her middle finger and tried that. The rabbit whimpered and nearly jumped out of April’s lap.
“Be careful there!” the big man said in sudden concern. “I just got her, like I said. She’s sore from when I was petting her last night.” He moved closer until he was only two feet away, watching the young girl soothe his pet.
April slid wet fingers over the rabbit’s clit. The pet whimpered and moaned and ground her butt back into the girl’s hand. April giggled. “I think she likes me!”
The large man’s eyes were trained on April’s fingers and the pink hairless lips she fondled. The rabbit was young and so clean she smelled like nothing more then fresh dew, even though in heat.
April was so enraptured by the rabbit and how its hips were rising to meet her hand as she rubbed its clit that she didn’t notice the man getting closer, slowly rubbing the bulge in his work pants.
“Mister this is the nicest rabbit ever â€”” She looked up as the large man unbuckled the belt of his pants.
“You keep petting her like that,” he said in a low growl, “get her nice and wet and I’ll take care of her.”
Alice knew grown ups did such things with their pets â€” it was why grown ups bought pets â€” but this man was so huge! The rabbit was so small that he would hurt her. Alice felt the rabbit start to shake and whimper, the poor little thing!
“Mister! You probably shouldn’t. You said she’s awful sore.”
The man pulled out his penis. It was enormous, so thick April doubted even full grown pets could take this monster. Surely it would rip a rabbit apart! The rabbit cried out and tried to twist right out of April’s lap.
“Mister, I’m petting her really nicely,” April begged in her cutest baby voice, the one that made Daddy forgive her for anything. “Please, you’re scaring her.”
The large man stroked his menacing cock, watching the two on the floor with cold intensity. “She’s my pet. She has to learn to play nicely with me. Now hold her and I’ll â€””
“Wait, mister! Please! You’re really going to hurt her. Look at how she’s crying and trying to jerk away. I’ll … I mean … I can play with you, if you won’t hurt her.”
The man’s attention focused on the lost little girl with a wide and not very nice smile. “You’re not much bigger than her, don’t you think you’ll get hurt?”
He knelt down and put his hand on the rabbit’s bottom.
April nervously started stroking the rabbit again, letting her fingers pull at the now soaked little lips and achingly erect clit. The rabbit was scared but also wet and aroused by April’s fingers.
“I’ll be ok, mister. I’ve got a daddy who’s as big and tall as you.” She swallowed hard. “Well, almost.”
April pulled the rabbit around so that its ass and sex were not so exposed and such an easy target for the man’s huge throbbing cock. She pinched the rabbit’s facial cheeks, which were now blushing red. The rabbit had the most amazing lips, bee-stung and pouting. April kissed the rabbit and the rabbit eagerly kissed her back, sucking on Alice’s top and then bottom lip.
April fell onto the kiss. The rabbit’s soft lips and sweet tongue gave April thrills. They continued to kiss as the stranger stood up next to them and moved his huge cock towards their two mouths.
“Show me a little of how you play and maybe I can take it easy on my little pet.”
April turned, still drunk from kisses and faced the huge penis.
“Okay, mister, but then you gotta drive me home, okay?” She looked up to his intense eyes with pleading.
The rabbit, crouched on the floor, shivered violently.
The man chuckled. “Sight of my cock scares her to death. She thinks I’m going to stuff it into her pussy and I’m working on that, so far with no luck. I bruised her pussy lips when I tried a few days ago. To save her pussy she’s been sucking me ever since.”
He gripped one of April’s pigtails and pulled her mouth to his cock. Though frightened, she opened and took the cock head between her lips. She sucked it timidly, fitting as much in her mouth as she could, maybe the first third of it. She licked it around the head, hoping that would satisfy him.
April had been hesitant, a little scared, until the kisses, the feel of the rabbit’s naked body against her and now this huge throbbing cock in her small hands. The blood was pumping in her veins and she felt her panties wet with desire. While she sucked the head of the large man’s cock, the rabbit rose from the floor, kissed her neck and held her. April suddenly wanted more of it. She pushed the huge thing deeper into her mouth and almost choked. She sucked it hard and slithered her tongue along the ridge of the head.
The rabbit pulled up the girl’s dress, exposing rainbow colored panties that matched the thigh high socks. The red and blue and green stripes were darker at the crotch where the girl was wet and hungry.
April would have been surprised had she noticed how easily the rabbit freed one of her hands from its mitten. As she sucked faster on the man’s cock, she only felt the rabbits hands inside her panties. Two of the rabbit’s fingers slipped easily into April’s wet sex.
The man watched his pet finger the lost little girl and growled with pleasure. Pulling April off of his cock, he grabbed her arm roughly and turned her to face away from him, her bottom in the air. The rabbit was flung to the floor.
“Mister! Mister, no!” April cried.
With the young girl on her hands and knees he gave her rainbow-pantied ass a firm smack. She’d been spanked plenty of times, but this man’s hand was so large and firm it was like being hit with a paddle. He ripped the colorful panites easily in half, exposing her ass and cunt.
“It’s you or the rabbit, slut.” The man knelt and slapped his meaty cock against her bare sex.
The rabbit stared at the man in wide eyed horror. April pulled the rabbit to her, kissing her again on the lips and looking her in the eyes. “I’m not going to let him hurt you, okay? You have to help me though. Go back and make me very wet. Go back there and help me take him. Do you understand?”
The rabbit’s big green eyes sparkled with tears but she nodded twice. The two kissed again. Even with so much fear and stress, the feel of the rabbit’s soft puffy lips against hers made April melt.
The man stroked his hard shaft and watched as the rabbit knelt facing the small pussy. The rabbit’s nose scrunched up as she sniffed around the girl’s wet sex. April shivered to the soft lips tracing her thighs with tentative nibbles and licks until they reached her wet pink folds and found her clit.
“Use your fingers,” April moaned.
Eyeing the huge cock poised to enter, the little rabbit obeyed, licking the hard little clit that seemed to get fatter. A rabbit finger slipped into April’s waiting cunt, light pink and slick with juices. The rabbit added a second and a third finger before she felt tightness. She pushed and pulled her fingers in a slow rhythm as she twirled and sucked on April’s clit.
The man enjoyed the show but was getting impatient. He slapped the rabbit hand away and shoved one of his thick fingers into the girl, who groaned and pushed her plump little bottom back at him. He worked another finger into her, twisting and coating them with her juices until both fingers fit up to the first knuckle.
“A lovely little slut!” he growled, pushing his fingers in farther until April whimpered and tried to pull away. “You’ll take my cock if we have to try all night.”
The rabbit crawled around to April’s face and kissed the girl again, her silky lips and honey tongue wet with April’s juices. They worked their magic on April again, even more so with the added dirty pleasure of tasting herself on those perfect lips.
Feeling her wetness grow as she kissed his pet, the man growled a laugh. He slipped his fingers out and grabbed the girl’s hips. April’s body tensed.
The rabbit did everything she could to calm the girl, pushing her fat puffy nipples against April’s lips and coaxing her to suck them. This was almost as thrilling as kissing the little rabbit. Then the rabbit set upon April with deeper kisses, swirling her tongue in the girl’s mouth.
The man wet the head of his cock against the girl’s slit and pressed the thick head into her entrance. Searing heat ripped through April as it stretched her. She tried to focus on kissing the perfect nymph rabbit in front of her.
The man groaned and exclaimed, “Tight and delicious!”
This huge rough man completely controlled her, pulling her little hips back against him. Along with this new sensation the pain and the kissing made April dizzy. She felt powerless and overwhelmed as the pain and pleasure mixed in her head. And all she could see, smell and taste was the bunny’s delightful plump lips, kisses and green eyes. April shook as an orgasm wracked her body.
The sudden contractions made the man groan as the tight pussy tightened further on his massive cock. The flood of additional lubricant let him slip almost his whole length into her. He increased his grip on her hips and picked her up off the ground with the force of his next thrust. Now he was fucking the little girl hard and fast.
The manhandling was too violent for the rabbit to continue kissing. She lay down and offered her bare swollen cunt for the girl to suck. April was climbing towards another orgasm as the man gave her a fucking the likes of which she had never imagined. It was brutal and euphoric at the same time. Her thighs were numb from his body slapping against her. She held on to the rabbit’s legs and clamped her mouth onto the wet little sex. The taste of the rabbit’s wetness and the feel of her little pussy lips pushed April over the edge.
The rabbit shuddered in a violent orgasm. The moaning, the smell of sex and the two little girls coming against each other were too much for the big man to take. With a pent up fury that had been building for hours he hoarsely barked out, “Fuck!” and came deep in the little girl. Over and over he jetted into her as her tightness squeezed him.
He finally slipped out of her, studying the obscenely red and swollen sex dripping with his come and growling with pleasure. He stood up weakly and held on to the wall of the van to pull up his trousers.
The girl and the rabbit lay panting together on the floor. The man returned to the driver’s seat and started the engine. April felt herself drift to sleep for a few minutes as the van drove into the night. She awoke as the van stopped.
“This is Blossom. Which house?” the man said in his deep voice.
She swallowed, her mouth dry and her body suddenly cold. “Um … number 204.”
He drove on. Beside her the rabbit was deeply asleep and looked adorable.
Shortly the van stopped again and he turned to her. “Well April, you’ve been a good girl. I drove you home like I said I would. Can I ask you something?”
April stood up, wincing at the pain between her legs, feeling the cold semen running down her thighs. She could hardly stand.
“Sure, mister,” she said weakly.
“Well, being that this rabbit is too small for me to properly play with, maybe you could keep her for me for a while, train her up until she gets a little bigger. Maybe I could come and visit you a few times?” Now his voice was a less scary.
April’s eyes widened. This was so unexpected! Having a rabbit was her biggest dream, but having this one, so beautiful and perfect, was something she couldn’t even imagine.
“I … I mean … really? Really, mister?”
He smiled for the first time without leering. “If your daddy will let you.”
She nodded. “He will, he will, I promise!” She knew she could get her daddy to let her, even if he was going to spank her for being late.
The man stood up again and opened the lock on the side doors of the van.
“Well go ahead and take her then. I’ll be keeping my eye on you and my rabbit.” Though he smiled his eyes were menacing.
April climbed out of the van, happy to be home. She helped the rabbit out by the hand that still wore a furry mitten. The rabbit shivered in the night air.
“Okay, mister. I promise I’ll take real good care of her. When she’s bigger she’ll be ready for you!”
April led the rabbit up her front walkway. The man closed the van doors and drove away just as the front porch lights came on. The door opened and the shadow of April’s daddy appeared.
April put on her biggest, prettiest smile and tried to look as cute as she could. “Hi daddy! Sorry I’m late. Look what I found!”
The tart was just that. Let’s be frank, although far brighter than most riff raff, she was still a simple girl, smart enough to get paid a hefty price for her services, which was something in these days, but not much more. Still, there was a spark there and since meeting her during the investigation of the Burgdorf burglary we had become well acquainted and she’s found that my services were most satisfying after her nightly tending to the ruffian masses.
I supposed it had been months before that the idea had taken root in my head. My colleague Watson had made some offhanded remark about his upcoming nuptials and how I would most certainly not be needing a “plus one” on my invitation. He had often noted my lack of romantic partners during our friendship. For a brilliant man, the dear doctor could be quiet daft. Continue reading
As buildings went, this was certainly the best place Caitlin had ever lived. Just out of college and new to New York, she was still amazed every time she walked out of the subway and saw the brownstone that was now her home.
It was three stories of beautiful red brick, with large bay windows, and ornate wrought iron fences out front. She lived on the second floor, above a lovely older lesbian couple, with their two dogs and their fancy dinner parties. Upstairs there was a nice, if a bit mysterious, business man in his thirties named Henry.
The one thing she did know about the man upstairs is that he certainly had a lot of lady friends. There was nothing wrong with that, Caitlin supposed, but she didn’t really understand it. He was fairly good looking, but nothing special. Plus, what kind of woman would go out with someone so promiscuous? It seemed like he had a new one every week. Continue reading
I shook my head and smiled again.
She bit her bottom lip, but under the circumstances, her demeanor actually changed very little.
Ana was a tough nut to crack. We’d met through this or that, the ways people uptown meet. She was bright, book smart, art smart, fit, and fashionable. Pretty and self conscious; a puzzle of desire and nervousness. We’d fallen into both flirting and friendship at the same time and there had been a long lull as we tried to figure out which one to pursue. In the end we picked a little from “column A” and a little from “column B.” Luckily, I’d set up my life to facilitate that sort of answer to that sort of question.
A week or so before our date, our conversation via email had turned to sex toys. I mentioned that I had reviewed them for a while and she skirted around the issue of needing some new ones. These were lovely little charged correspondences that made my days at work fly by. Passive flirtation; we weren’t talking about sex, we were talking about sex toys! As safe as talking about stereo equipment. Like so many things, there were layers of self defense and acknowledging self defense. Continue reading