Hillary Ames used to hate his name – when he was younger.
He was teased by his peers, until high school. By then, he was so accomplished a scholar that he was looked up to, and the admiration he excited made his name more than acceptable.
By the time he had graduated from college he was more than pleased about his name. He stood out for far more than mere scholarly excellence. His name was a refreshing change among the Dans, Dicks, Bobs, Johns, and Jacks by which he was surrounded.
However, when his wife presented him with twin daughters, and wanted to name one of the little girls Hillary, he put his foot down.
"I shall be the only Hillary in this family, darling, just as I'm the only one wearing the pants."
His wife, Helen, smiled adoringly at her husband and acquiesced, something which was very easy to do, given her husband's merits.
He was, in addition to being very brilliant, very handsome, very socially accomplished, also very tender, very attentive, and very loving. He was a superb provider for his wife and twin daughters.
And he was hung like a horse, with the sexual appetite to go with it!
The little girls were named Debrah and Donna.
They grew to be exquisite little blondes, and as they grew, Hill, as he was known among his friends acquired a strange, perverse attraction for them.
He wanted them as much as he desired his wife, and, adoring and trusting as they were, he being such a fabulous father, they frequently gave him a painful hard-on when they sat on his knees.
His wife always had a shit-eating grin on her face, since she was the beneficiary of his lust, and what woman wouldn't thrive in an environment where a man, especially when said man was one's husband, frequently fucked the woman with all the ardor of the first time?
Hill managed to keep his growing appetite for his daughters under control until they were thirteen years old. By this time, they were budding young women, with all the poignant, breath-taking beauty of a peach-colored tea rose, glinting with dew in the first light of morning.
At this time, Hill was offered a prestigious position at a young ladies' seminary in a small rural town which also contained a prestigious small university, renowned throughout the world for the quality of its scholars.
What could be more ideal? A small, healthy, convivial community, in which the head of the family could take his place as one of its superior and admired members, family-oriented, and yet academic and non-insular?
With these laudable sentiments, and a rather superior financial inducement, Hill moved his family to Sylvan Hills.
The family was happy. Hill was not. He found his lust for his daughters growing.
They were, of course, enrolled in the prestigious Sylvan Hills Seminary where their father taught, and their social life burgeoned.
The Ames family became popular rapidly. Why not? They were handsome, literate, and spirited.
Hill began to feel like a split personality.
The life style was low-keyed and quiet, and Hill's inflamed imagination had freer play without the distractions of city life.
All his happiness was marred, his growing popularity in the school, the superb impression he made on his peers, his own very beautiful and very loving family were as dust in the man's mind, when he considered his bizarre infatuation with his daughters.
He felt that he was going insane, that there was some defect in his emotional make-up to create this rabid longing for the flesh of his daughters.
In a larger town with a more indifferent or tolerant community he could have sought the services of a psychiatrist, and there were several eminent ones who lived in the community, although none of them practiced in it.
They practiced in a somewhat distant urban area.
The problem was, they were his social companions as well as his professional peers. There was no way in hell he could approach them with his problem.
And so his new life progressed from day to day, Hill's raging cock pleasing his wife immensely, his own personal sexual appetite unassuaged by the specific objects of it.
Until Halloween.
That raucous night, dressed in a mask, and white kid gloves, wearing a silk top hat and opera cloak, he took his children out to play trick or treat. There was no need to examine the apples for razor blades. No need to sort through the candy making sure there were no hallucinogens nor poisons in them.
Sylvan Hills was a true community in the Old-World sense of the word: if everyone tended to know everyone else's business, they also cared, and kept discreet tongues in their heads, except for close personal friends, and everyone had at least two!
His adoring daughters clung proudly to their tall, handsome father's gloved hands, as excited to be seen with him, as to be gathering treats. And the more he walked with them, the hornier he got. His cock raged against his dark trousers with a fury that would have done in a less disciplined or worthy man.
At nine-thirty, he brought his golden-haired princesses (for so they were dressed to be) home to be put to bed.
He listened, still attired in his costume, to their chattering, as they went upstairs with their mother to be tucked in for the night.
Wearing of his intransigent lust, appalled at his unrepentant attitude with regard to his secret perversion, he walked out into the very large, rolling lawn in back of their large, Federalist style house.
The night was quiet, and relatively warm. There was the slight hint of autumn chill in the air, and the ripe smells of autumn filled the night air.
Some of the more indefatigable of the children were still out playing trick or treat. He walked the length of the wide, rolling lawn to the fringe of woodland, beyond which was a peaceful lake, a popular retreat for lovers, and in the summer a delightful area for swimming.
Underneath Hill's feet, the leaves made crackling noises, and occasionally, he heard a branch snap. He had almost forgotten that he was still in costume.
He walked through the woodland to the grassy slope which breasted the large lake on all sides.
There was a quarter moon, tilted lazily on its side in a royal blue sky scintillating with stars.
Hill smiled obscenely and leaned against the tree.
The oval lake, gleaming in the night light, surrounded by the grassy slope, and fringed all around with the woodland reminded him of a huge cunt.
He inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh wet smell of the earth, listening to the sounds of the night, the quiet lapping of the waters when the surface was stirred by the mild wind, the soughing of the trees, and then he shuddered.
"God!" he whispered to himself, "I'm so besotted that now I'm having auditory hallucinations!"
What he heard, which sent a shudder of erotic emotion coursing through him, was the panting of a woman in heat. He cocked his head and listened.
He couldn't believe he was hearing what he did. A low moan traveled through him like an electric shock.
He walked in the direction in which he thought he heard the sound, treading carefully. He was afraid that he would encounter some reality to what he heard, and then again, fearful for his mental state, he was afraid that he would encounter nothing.
What he encountered almost devastated him.
Leaning against a tree, her legs spread wide apart, dressed almost bizarrely in a glittering costume, was a young blonde girl. She looked so much like his own twins that Hill caught his breath with wonder.
His cock burned, a flaming focal point in his consciousness, and the girl appeared to be part of the whole experience.
To one side of the girl, Hill saw the gleaming white of her panties. He walked closer and closer.
He recognized her as one of the neighborhood children. Her name was Molly. Right now, Molly was oblivious to the whole world.
As Hill watched, her little hand rubbed up and down over her gleaming twat.
"Ooooh! Ahhhh!" the little girl moaned. Her hips started to buck upward. "Ohh, I wanna be fucked, fucked, ohhhhh!"
Something happened to Hillary Ames at that moment. The little girl, no more than thirteen, was rubbing her hand up and down over her swollen muff, her lovely little face was contorted with her lust, and her blonde hair gleamed in the dim light.
Hill decided to give her her wish, and to sublimate his own. The idea of incest appalled him, but he was rapidly wearing down under the strain of his incestuous desire.
It wasn't that he thought raping an adolescent girl was much better, but at least she was willing. He suddenly realized that he hadn't taken off his costume.
Hill approached slowly. The little girl was moaning, and her lovely slender legs we thrashing around on the grass as she rubbed her hand up and down over her soft little meat.
The idea hit him with such force, and he acted so fast, that he did not think of consequences until much later.
He came up suddenly behind the girl. In the dim light, her little white hand was a blur of motion as she stimulated her pink meat.
He put his white-gloved hand over her mouth quickly.
The girl stiffened. Hill, crouched down, in order to stop her from screaming, moved around so that he was positioned in front of her. He stared at her through his mask. He heard Molly's strangled scream behind the glove hand which covered her mouth.
"Be quiet!" he commanded in a voice which he made low and gravely. "I'm going to fuck you, but I won't hurt you."
Molly's eyes were so wide that Hill could see her whites vividly. He reached down with one hand, slowly, alert to any move the girl would make, and he pulled down the zipper of his fly.
He saw Molly's eyes lowered as he pulled out his raging cock.
Molly moaned, and her body trembled, but she made no move to get free. She was medium height, and slender. Hill easily pulled her down until she was in a reclining position.
He wasn't sure if fear had paralyzed her, or if she wanted sex so badly that she was willing to get it any way she could.
Hill was too hot to reason with himself, and the very heat of the little girl further aroused him. His massive cock throbbed painfully. Molly's eyes were still glued on it. He suddenly realized that there had to be some fear in her, even if she wanted to be fucked. His cock was huge, and a grown woman would look at it in awe the first time.
But Hill knew how to use his manhood, and he always used it well.
He spread the girl's legs further apart. He looked at her swollen pink meat. Then he lowered his large, muscular body on top of hers, pressing his cock head at the entrance to the little girl's cunt.
Her little body stiffened. The sense of the lawlessness of what he was doing, the very idea of the child's age, combined with the social strictures which prohibited the taking of children, caused his blood to pound in his ears like a roaring wind, drowning out any admonitions.
He couldn't believe how easy it was, as he began to push his massive mauler into the tiny twat of the teenager!
Her breathing issued from her throat in sobbing gasps, as he pushed into her, feeling the pressure build in his cock as he lodged his cock head tightly in her little twat.
She was hot and very, very wet. Her self stimulation had made her pussy well greased for Hill's massive cock.
Hill kept pushing inward, lost in the surrealistic sexuality of the moment, drowning in his own desire.
Molly who had been frigging herself, who had been trying to get her cherry popped for months, lay enthralled under the man.
He didn't fit any description of a rapist she ever heard. His voice, although gruff, was more paternal than anything, and Molly, desperate for cock, decided to surrender to him, not even knowing in her raging heat why she was submitting.
It was true that he was much bigger, and stronger than she. But he was also not hurting her.
She gasped, and stiffened somewhat as she felt his monstrous cock stretching her pussy walls wide. The sensation to the overheated young teenager was wild. It didn't hurt at all, even if it felt somewhat uncomfortable.
She felt his huge raging cock, which seemed to go on forever, like a sexy snake, slithering into her well-greased cunt. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, not from her original fear, but from erotic excitement.
She felt her breathing get puffy and shallow as the man continued to thrust his cock into her. She lay still, fascinated by the wild sensations which coursed through her.
She heard the man moan, and somehow, the sound made her even more excited. Her body trembled. She was afraid to move, afraid that if she did move, the man would go away, and the feeling of having her pussy stuffed was so sensational that she never wanted it to go away.
The man's cock pressed against her hymen. She felt some slight discomfort as his cock head pushed into the delicate barrier, and then, the man thrust in again, and his powerful prick rammed through her hymen, ripping it from the walls of her pussy.
She gasped, and stiffened slightly, as she felt the sharp sting, felt the blood well up and flow over the man's cock. And then there was no more pain, as the man's cock continued to snake deeply into her virginal cunt.
She felt his cock pry so deeply into her twat, that she would have sworn, sexually naive as she was, that the head of his prick was lodged in her stomach. Her little body was bloated with the hot sensations which filled her, and caused her to tremble hotly.
A feverish sweat covered her lovely skin. She felt the flimsy costume sticking to her body, as the man started to move in her.
Again a whole new variety of sensations coursed through her. Molly felt as if her whole cunt had developed a life of its own.
As the huge stiff ramrod of the man moved in and out of her flesh, her cunt began to accommodate his cock. Her pussy flesh seemed to ripple around the massive prick, and each movement, each twitch of her sex flesh added more hot pleasure to the overflowing well of her sexual bliss.
She couldn't believe that this gorgeous thing was happening to her. It was almost like a dream that is so vivid it seemed real. And it was real.
Molly was being raped, so she could dispense with any responsibility in the matter, and she was enjoying it to the core of her little being. She wasn't nagging anyone to pop her cherry. Her plan had been to corner someone, anyone, and seduce him, but being young, she hadn't known how to go about it, and all she had acquired for her efforts were a few gropes.
Her body started to tremble violently, as wild new sensations coursed through her. She felt that she was on the verge of having an orgasm, but it wasn't like anything she had ever experienced by frigging herself.
She started to moan. Her body was undulating rhythmically, as the man pushed in and out of her. Molly had a feeling, as she felt his massive cock pump in and out of her cock, massaging the walls of her pussy, prying deep into her sexual, dripping well, that his cock was bigger than usual. Maybe that was why he had to rape her.
Molly, whose eyes had been glued to the masked stranger's face, surrendered to the hot sensations which welled up in her. She closed her eyes, and her body started to twitch.
She felt her pussy walls close in around the cock. The pressure of the man's cock, pistoning faster and faster in and out of her hot, hungry twat, increased, and so did the wild ecstasy which had taken possession of her body.
She clenched her fists, and concentrated on the fiery hole into which the man was dipping his thick rod over and over again.
His hairy balls slapped against her quivering ass cheeks. Almost without willing it, Molly felt her hips start to undulate up and down, her upward thrusts matching the man's inward plunges as he reamed out her cunt.
Her pussy juices flowed lavishly out of her tightly stuffed hole, and Molly felt a pre-orgasmic tension grip at her muscles, and make her body stiff with electric-like currents of joy.
Her sweat poured over her copiously. She opened her mouth against the gloved hand of the man, which still covered hers, and started to squeal, as the spasms of her climax began to build in her thoroughly stuffed cunt.
She had never known anything so wild in her life, and she felt her body being buffeted by the convulsions of the orgasm. Her whole body felt alive, hot, keen.
Molly felt the man's pumping become more and more frenzied. She felt the sweat from his face dripping down onto her face, already covered with a thin patina of perspiration.
She felt as if all her insides were melting, that the man's cock was like a torch, burning her out, leaving her deprived of every organ she had once had in her body, except her cunt.
And her burning, twitching cunt, was like a wide, gaping hole. Her pussy walls closed in more tightly around the hard rod which drove deeply into her, piercing her newly-opened womanhood over and over again.
Her legs flew up in the air, and she wrapped them around the man's waist, feeling it rise and fall, as his cock pulled out to the tip, and then thrust inward again, rubbing against her itching cuntal walls, relieving her of the insistent nagging need which had bothered her so much lately.
Her pussy walls started to convulse, the walls contracting rhythmically around the hard-thrusting cock of the man. She was coming, and coming more violently than she had ever even imagined.
Her little nostrils flared, as she strove to drive oxygen into her passion-spent lungs. The heat rose until her ears were ringing. She felt light-headed.
The only reality she was aware of was the wild convulsing of her cunt, as the strange man fucked her with insane, strong strokes.
Her orgasm rose higher, and Molly thrashed and writhed under the man's cloaked body.
The hot, harsh pleasure took her breath away.
The man's cock seemed to swell in her cunt, pressing even harder against her quivering quim. The hot hard flesh abraded her walls, sending hot shivers of bliss coursing through her.
The lust besotted girl writhed frantically under the strange man's hard-humping body. She got lost in the hot demanding ecstasy of her orgasm.
Then she felt a whole different sensation which shot her orgasm even higher on the plane of intensity.
She felt his come juice starting to pour into her. At first, she wasn't sure if the juice which suddenly spewed against her convulsing walls was her own, or his.
And then she realized that she was experiencing his jism as it exploded hotly from his come slit, and mixed with her own juices.
Molly cunt was a soggy, quivering mess, a swamp of lust and heated desire, as she humped her hips lasciviously into the man's hard-humping loins.
Her clitoris was tickled by the man's wiry pubic hairs as he slammed into her. His grinding motions into her cunt had spread her swollen pink flesh wide open.
Molly felt inundated by the wild pleasures which she was experiencing. There was no area of her body on which she could concentrate that didn't have its own message of pleasure to deliver to her lust-fogged brain.
Her orgasm seemed to go on forever. Each sharp shard of bliss which coursed through her filled her with more and more wildness.
She became abandoned to the pleasure, and behaved like a wild wanton under the hard body of the man who had raped her so magnificently.
Her clitoris tingled with hot pleasure. Her cunt continued to convulse wildly. Her whole body shivered and convulsed in the hot grip of the lusty ecstasy which had filled her.
Her head reeled so hard that she was afraid she would faint, afraid she would miss out on some of the pleasure.
The man humping her grunted and then his body fell on top of hers, pressing her into the earth.
Molly kept right on writhing around on the thick cock which pulsed powerfully in her cunt. Her cunt seemed to be hammering like a tom-tom, the pulsing of the rapist's cock counterpointing the throbbing of her own cunt, as her orgasm started to fade away.
As she came down from the glorious sexual rush which had just filled her, she moaned again.
She felt herself losing consciousness, but even in the light faint, the hot pleasure rippled through her. She experienced a series of mini-orgasms.
Her faint wasn't so deep that she missed the sensation of the man's pulling out of her. She felt as if her cunt had become an aching void. She wanted more of his cock, more of his hot fucking.
But in her faint, she was incapable of speaking. The man's hand left her mouth. Molly stirred slightly, but, tossed on the hot, frothing waves of her own sexual ecstasy, she didn't want to move.
She heard the man moving away, and her hand moved down to her twat. It was still hot, and dripping. She curled up, moaning with pleasure, savoring the wonderful warmth that had suffused her body in the aftermath of her orgasm.
Molly had not had enough. She wanted more.
She hoped she would meet the gorgeous man with the monstrous cock again. It was better than she had expected, and more wonderful than her meager sexual imagination had been able to conceive.
She shivered as another post-orgasmic ripple of pleasure coursed through her, and then she woke up.
She had to get home before her parents started to look for her. And she intended to keep the existence of the marvelous man a secret.
She felt very possessive about him, and she wanted him again!