Quickie • A Good Girl

A Good Girl
A Quickie by RedBud

  • This is a another older story I’ve just edited. Once again I’ve slimmed down the text in preparation for publication. Among my stories, this one and my rewrite of Little Red Riding Hood remain the most popular with almost 4000 visits.  I leave it to my readers to give their reasons why.

Leila’s stomach tingled. Why couldn’t she say no?

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.

“Who’s that?”
“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.”
“Yes.”
“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.”
“She’s eighteen.”
“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.

Latest Comments

  1. ssn713 says:

    I really love how you are able to paint the picture with words! I was held captive by your narrative. Thank you for a titillating story.

  2. Amy says:

    Wow, this was surprisingly hot! I hope it never happens to me, but it’s certainly got me worked up reading it!

    xxxx

  3. thepinkpoppet says:

    WOW…That was erotic but so freaking glad I never had to deal with that!

  4. willcrimson says:

    I suppose that’s the fun of erotica: Imagining ourselves in situations that we, thank god, don’t have to be in!

  5. Transylvanian Miss says:

    I think it’s wonderful and so well written, delightfully twisted heehee. I don’t know why I haven’t found this blog before? God I love erotica. Bravo. :)
    always,
    B.

    • willcrimson says:

      Thanks for the comment, B.! We’ve just started our blog, which is probably why you haven’t seen it before. We’re both old hands in other venues but trying to get the word out. Hearing from readers and other bloggers makes it fun.

  6. max says:

    love it. wouldn’t want to live it, but love it.

  7. danidarling says:

    nice story, very hot

  8. Katie says:

    Oh! my my….loved it, brought back memories. winks~

  9. Ashes says:

    That is … just …. hot! The build up is fantastic & then the little twist in there is wicked. Fantastic read :)

  10. Change My Body...Change My Life says:

    I read this twice, and it only got better…now for the third time…

  11. Samantha says:

    Hi – fantastic story – I would be delighted if you would consider contributing a piece for my erotic library on my site http://www.ms-samantha.com, which launches next week? x

  12. darkfriday1408 says:

    Very nice!

    It was a really nice story. Seeing Leila and Jeremy having sex in the closet, while her mom and dad are in the room and talking about how a nice and quite girl they have, a few feet away from the place their daughter was having sex and the guys was playing with her nipple piercings and her clit pierce/ring, while her mouth was stuffed with her panties.

    A risque sex session close to the parents, who i the end, end up having a quick sex session themselves.
    It’s a nice one-shot, but it would also be interesting if it got a sequel. While Leila is in college or she comes home from college with a boyfriend.

    Good luck and happy writing.

    • willcrimson says:

      This story has always been among my most popular.

      And here’s why, I think, and I might turn this into a post: The interesting thing about sex is that the more a society (within limits) suppresses sexuality, the more it eroticizes sexuality. You really have to wonder if, in a Freudian sense, the suppression of sexuality is really its own expression of a subconscious fetish—a fetish that drives sexuality underground and makes it a subversive act. And there’s nothing more erotic, in my experience, than subversive sex. We wear clothes, we create art, we write, we compose whole symphonies and build towering cities, we are like Gods, but in the dark of our parent’s closet closet, the man must fuck the woman and woman must be fucked.

      Think of it this way: Our parents are the archetypal symbol of civilization and order, while the closet is the archetypal symbol of suppression, chaos, hidden truths and “the erotic secret”. I think this suppressed eroticism is especially piquant for the woman and in a different way than for men. The woman is expected to be virtuous, virginal and incorruptible. You see this symbolism in stories over and over—and there are sound societal and biological reasons for it. (It’s almost a pity when feminists rail against the Madonna/Whore archetype without seeming to appreciate the deeply erotic subtext—or are maybe they’re repelled by it.) There’s real erotic appeal for both men and women in subverting the archetype—the taking of the girl’s virginity, the fouling her thighs and cunt with semen, bringing her to the “unwilling” orgasm (though it means different things for men and women). The woman consciously or subconsciously understands that her body is itself the threat of chaos and must be suppressed. And so it’s a deeply erotic dissonance, that while being aware of the expectations (expectations of masculine order that are parental and societal) she all the more deeply desires the cock, the fouling of her thighs, the chaos of his orgasm in her womb. If the erect cock is the symbol of masculine order, then the cock’s uncontrollable, forceful and creative release symbolizes the feminine’s chaotic power to seduce. Is it coincidence that patriarchal orders like the Catholic Church demand celibacy from their priesthood? They understand the power and threat of the feminine over the masculine at an archetypal level. The erotic dissonance for the woman is in embodying both Madonna and the whore. The man desires both and the erotic subversiveness of being both appeals to the woman. There’s a reason the tale of Little Red Riding Hood is so enduring. As I see it, the ultimate subversion and union of both chaos and order is the orgasm. We must keep that hidden in the closet.

      So, sorry to go all Joseph Campbell, but I think that’s why this story is so appealing. We experience it every day. :)

    • darkfriday1408 says:

      Nice. I leave a comment and expect a short reply, but i get a psychological/physiological. Not that i mind. I appreciate that gesture and the explanation for why it is among the most popular.

      Like i said, it would be interesting if it got a sequel. But if not, it’s also good as a stand alone story.

      Good luck and happy writing.

    • willcrimson says:

      It’s why I like comments. :)

      I’ll think about a sequel, but I’m not sure what that would look like. If you have more thoughts, I’ll read them.

    • darkfriday1408 says:

      Maybe Leila will take her boyfriend from college with her home during a vacation period or during a family gathering, which could happen during a vacation period and the two of them could have sex in a similar manner in which she and Jeremy had sex. Maybe in a closest (again) with a family member/s in the room or maybe before the family dinner and they have to be discrete. She wears a knee long dress, and after they have sex, the boyfriend takes her panties and she has to stay the rest of the night without panties and with her boyfriends cum dripping down her thighs. It would also be interesting if they would have to have sex in a quite way so as not to draw attention to themselves and get busted.

      It would further amplify the entire situation if Leila would manage to keep her reputation of a good, quite little girl and if her boyfriend would have a similar reputation. But in reality, they are both kinky, daring and risque. Maybe during the reunion, they can have a flashback or two, to things they did at college that would change people’s opinions of them. :D

    • willcrimson says:

      That’s erotic, but it’s really the same story over again. That’s the hard part to writing sequels. However, I will use elements of your suggestions in the continuing story I just posted — The Sex Slave. :)

    • darkfriday1408 says:

      True. For the moment i can’t think of anything else.

      I look forward to seeing the story “The Sex Slave” continue. Out of curiosity, will you develop the story for a few more chapters at the beginning of their relationship or will you write the story until the end of her year as a sex slave? And if you do write until the end of the year, will the ending be open to interpretation or will it be clearly outlined?

      Good luck and happy writing.

    • willcrimson says:

      As concerns “The Sex Slave”, I have a faint idea. If I write a chapter for every day of their experience, he book will be longer than the Bible. After the first three chapters, I’ll have to pick up the pace. I do want to write to the end of the year and have a rough idea how it will end. :) As to whether the ending will be open ended or clearly defined — do you have a preference?

    • darkfriday1408 says:

      That’s true. The story would get big if you would have to write a chapter for every day of the year.

      Not to mention, you could lose interest or hit writer’s block this way and you would have to ensure that the situation’s in the chapter’s don’t repeat themselves, so you can maintain interest.

      Personally, i prefer a clearly defined ending. I like to know at the end, were the characters stand and how the situation concluded.

      Also, will we find out over the course of the story why Choi decided to sell herself as a sex slave for a year? Because i imagine that if she had the money to stay three weeks at a 5 star hotel and splurge, she either inherited some money or had a good paying job that she left.

      Also, very nice pictures :D

      Good luck and happy writing.

    • willcrimson says:

      Okay, but we’ve got to move this conversation to the right story.

      Ask your next question over there. :)

      Briefly, the chapter I just posted is intended to begin answering that question: Why did Choi decide to sell herself and why did Ademar (that’s her owner’s name) want to buy Choi. There’s a push and pull between them, which is what makes their situation erotic. They’re suddenly stuck with each other. In a strange way, they’re each other’s slave and Master, As you’ll read, Ademar didn’t intend to purchase a slave girl. We’re not quite sure why he was there but we can make some preliminary guesses. I’ll leave it to the to story to hint at that. Choi’s reasons will get more hints.

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