Four writers for the price of one blog
A Good Girl
A Quickie by RedBud
She loved men. She loved how they smelled. She loved how they walked. She loved their hips and angular bodies. His cock, his beautiful penis was trapped in his pants and pressed against her ass. He pulled down her panties. She let him. She loved how men were turned on by her. She loved seeing them hard. A man’s hard penis was a woman’s praise and a command. She loved penises, beautiful penises: long and skinny ones, bent ones and squat fat ones. She loved the personalities of penises.
She lifted first one foot and then the other as he pulled off her thin white panties. His hands moved upward, under her shirt and pinched her nipples. She hummed loudly. He pushed his cock into her rear, making clear what he meant to do. Oh, yes, she loved the feeling of him grinding his hips against her – the rawness, the abandonment, the simple fact that she was a female and she was going to be fucked. Men needed to fuck, and oh! — but they needed to fuck her. She pushed back against him, arching her back. “What?” she gasped.
“Oh shit! My parents!”
“I thought they were gone!”
“Shit!” she manically scooped up her panties, his shirt, coat, shoes, everything! The car’s headlights lit up the bedroom wall. A few seconds later she heard the front door rattle, then open. They were both coming in!
“Quick!” she hissed urgently.
She shoved her beautiful man into the shallow clothes closet, stepped in and pressed her back to him, squeezing him against the closet’s back wall. She quickly pulled the closet’s louvered, folding doors shut. His clothes and hers were still in her hands.
The door to the bedroom opened.|
“Did you leave it in here?” her mother asked.
“I don’t know,” her Dad answered.
“Did you look in your coats.”
“In all your pants?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes. I paid for something over the phone. That’s the last I had it.”
“Where’s Leila?” her father asked.
“Maybe she hasn’t come home yet.”
“But her car’s outside.”
“Maybe she’s out with a friend.”
“She should leave a note.”
“Honey, she’ll be in college this fall.”
Her mother bent over and looked under the bed. Her father stepped behind her, hands on her hips, pelvis pressing at her from behind. “So we’re alone?”
Oh No! No! Leila bit her lip.
“Not now!” Her mother stood. “I don’t want to be late.” She went to the other side of the bed and stopped again
Leila’s lover moved behind her, quietly lifting her skirt. No! He moved it up and up until her skirt caught above her ass. No! Slowly, quietly, he let his cock out. She could feel its skin and heat lodge between the cheeks of her ass. No! – she wanted to say. No! But he was pushing now, pushing upward!
“Here it is,” said her mother, “under the nightstand.” Leila’s parents both crawled on their hands and knees. They picked up spilled money, photos and god knows.
Leila’s mouth opened wide and she stiffened. She gripped the clothes rolled between her fingers. She wanted to reach for something, anything. The opening to her womb kissed, parted and abruptly flared round the head of her lover’s cock. Her eyes rolled. She bit her lip as he slowly rose upward insider her. She squeezed her thighs together but her pussy had already closed lovingly around the sliding stem of his cock. He pushed. She didn’t dare to breathe: the feeling! – a man sliding up and inside! – the skin! – the heat, length and hard knot of him in her belly!
“O, look at this.”
“I forgot about these.”
“Look at her,” her mother crooned. “She was only in kindergarten.”
“What a sweety.”
“The face of an angel.”
Her lover pinched her nipples. He tugged the piercings. She pushed herself into his hands and leaned her head back against his shoulder. His hips drew back and pushed upward again. He licked the nape of her neck and – oh god! – how she wanted to groan and writhe on his impalement. She felt her own tickling moisture streak her thighs. His right hand went to her clit, erect and bulging. He softly squeezed it.
“Look at this one,” said her father. “This was when she was in seventh grade.”
“Look at how long her hair was!”
“A little brunette, just like you and a string bean. Remember what a tomboy she was?”
“Still is,” her mother sighed. “I never see her with a boyfriend. It worries me a little.”
He pushed upward and stayed there. He rolled her clit between his fingers. She prayed they wouldn’t open the closet door. She prayed they wouldn’t see what filled their daughter’s abdomen from below. What could she do? She felt a first spasm and gasped. Christ, she needed to be quiet! Her lover was pulling her panties out of her hand.
What was he doing?
He stuffed them in her mouth! She tasted herself and her lover’s day old come. His fingers found her clit again. She bit down. He pinched, rubbed and squeezed the exposed nerve and then – oh – and then – oh god! – he pulled and thrummed her golden clit-ring. Her eyes rolled again. She arched.
“Look at this. Her senior year high school photo,” her Daddy crooned.
“She cut her hair too short.”
“It’s cute like that. Very smart.”
“And she’s still thin as a rail,” her mother answered. “She won’t eat anything I cook!”
But her belly was so full. She would have grunted and moaned if she could have. She would have been licked the sheets and the floor with fullness.
“Can you believe she’ll be graduating in a week?” her mother sighed.
“She should have left a note.”
“Do you remember the things I did to you when you were eighteen?” her Daddy growled.
“She’s got a better head on her shoulders than I ever did.”
What? Her Mom was leaning on the bed and pulling up her skirt. “I do remember. You were all I could think about but Leila’s a smart girl. She’s pre-med. She doesn’t drink. She doesn’t do drugs. She doesn’t smoke. She gets straight A’s. She doesn’t have one bad habit. We must have done something right.”
They were facing her, just visible through the louvers. She wanted to close her eyes but couldn’t. Her Daddy’s thrust was abrupt. shoving her Mom against the edge of the bed. Her mom widened her knees. “Yes!” She let out a long moan. “Hurry. Do it!”
Leila rose to the balls of her feet. She held her breath. She tensed. She tried to stop the pleasure. Daddy’s hands were on her mother’s hips. Her chin was pressed into the mattress, both elbows up, palms flat at her waist. She was coming. Leila cringed. Leila closed her eyes. She stiffened. She fought the orgasm until her abdomen threatened to cramp.
But no matter how stiffly she locked her thighs; no matter how rigidly she held her spine; no matter how tightly she clenched her ass and pussy, first one and then another quick spasm answered her lover’s smooth caresses.
Her head lolled back and her eyes lost focus.
Her lover’s fingers thrummed and his expectant cock pressed. The straining core of her belly fluttered and finally pulsed with her lover’s ministrations. Her slender body snapped. Her back bent. She saw sparks behind half closed eyes. Her contractions squeezed and released the cock impaling her, inviting it to spill in her womb. It was time.
Her Dad stood and zipped. Leila’s Mom pulled up her panties. She stood. She smoothed the back of her black skirt and lightly palmed her belly. “It feels good in there.” She turned and kissed her husband. “Let’s just go. I don’t need to clean.” Then she half whispered, “You can think about all that cum in me when we’re at the party.”
“You think she went somewhere with Jeremy?”
“Jeremy?” – her mother mused. “Her college counselor? He’s a little old for her.”
“Not much older than I was.”
“She’s too young.”
“Seems like she just turned eleven yesterday–”
“She’s a good girl.”
They brushed past the closet door as Jeremy’s cum spurted into their daughter’s belly. Each pulse gushed through the tight kiss of her pussy. Semen trickled down her thighs and streaked her ankles. She stood on the balls of her feet and her heels dripped.
She was a bad girl.
She was such a bad, bad girl.