The weekend was as bad as Hill expected it to be. It wasn't that he wasn't an attentive, good host. But the sight and smell of so much young female flesh, one of whom he had deflowered, and two of whom he would have liked to have planted his cock in, was too much for him. By Sunday morning, he was almost beside himself, and escaped right after the brunch to go out to the woods.
He didn't expect to find anyone, nor had he gone out into the woods to prey on young virgin flesh. He genuinely wanted to get away from the temptations of the flesh which beset him in his own home.
Anita had got up very early, before the church bells had begun to chime their Sunday morning song. She had dressed very lightly in jeans and a sweater, with no underwear, and gone down to the lake.
She was feeling bereft, left out. Molly had got it, Sarah had got it, even little Susan had got it, and the night before, Marcie had called her to tell her that the rapist had actually fucked her in her own barn.
Anita shivered in the early morning chill. The sun was already up and blazing down on the countryside. But the mist still remained, as if it, too were in a lazy Sunday morning mood.
She sat down on the damp grass feeling the coolness of it spread through her jeans into her quivering hot ass. Most people didn't stir till it was time to go to church, which was noontime.
The little community dearly loved to sleep late on Sunday, and therefore the minister had geared his church services to their Sunday comfort.
Anita was so caught up in her thinking, that she didn't hear the footsteps behind her crashing through the autumn woods, didn't hear them pause as the tall silent figure came upon her slender lush figure curled up like a little Buddha against a tree.
Hill saw her figure, and smiled. His cock became turgid, as he watched her long slender back, which indented at the waist, and then swelled out into firm, slender hips.
He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket, and strode swiftly up behind her.
He was getting less and less resistance, as more and more girls learned of him, and waited for him to strike.
Instead of screaming or struggling, all he heard from the adorable little girl, was: "Yes, yes, oh yess!"
He pulled the blindfold tight over her eyes. She trembled against his body which he had pressed into her back, and made no move at all. He picked her up in his arms, his cock powerfully pounding in his pants, and carried her into the woods.
Anita was gasping with desire. He remembered that she had been given first option for the lake, but other little teenaged asses had come between him and her.
He laid her down on a thick bed of moss beneath a tree. She lay perfectly still, almost afraid to move, breathing heavily as Hill quickly undressed her. He loved their little budding bodies, their tiny little tits, their slight hint of waistline, and their almost bare twats.
Anita's pussy was lightly covered with a fiery bush of red pubic hair.
Breathing heavily, secure in his hiding place, Hill threw off his own clothes never taking his eyes from the totally acquiescent girl under him. He pressed his weight down on her and Anita gasped with pleasure as she felt his warm skin against hers, felt his throbbing, massive cock pressed into her belly.
She felt the throbbing of the hard organ, and she started to hump her hips upward, gently, feeling her pussy make wet, ticklish contact with his wiry pubic hairs.
She threw her arms around his neck, not even minding the blindfold.
She would have done almost anything in the world for him, to have this one moment that she had waited for so long.
Her pussy creamed heavily, and she began to writhe under his hot heavy body. She felt his hands move under her head, and he brought her face up to his. Then she felt his hot breath on her mouth, felt his tongue snake out and tease her moist, trembling lips.
Anita almost held her breath.
She felt her pussy juices start to flow heavily out of her cunt. She gasped when she felt the man's cock pressing at the entrance to her fuck hole.
She couldn't wait to feel his long hard shaft plowing into her. Hill's hands moved up and down the sides of her body. He cupped her soft little breasts, feeling the nipples pucker under his seductive palm.
"Ohhh!" Anita gasped as the man thrust into her slowly, his cock moving in in little stages, letting Anita get used to the big, thick prick.
Her whole body went tense with excitement. She felt as if her body were getting out of her control, as the man's cock pushed inward, stretching her tight cunt wide, and wider.
She instinctively spread her thighs wide, and brought her knees up. The gesture drove the man's cock head into her cunt. She gasped and was still for a moment, getting used to the fantastic pressure of having her cunt stuffed for the very first time.
It felt wonderful. She began to breathe again, and her body relaxed, and the man drove his cunt further and further into her silken-soft tunnel of love. Anita moaned softly.
"Shh!" the man commanded, putting a hand on her mouth. Anita tried to be quiet, aware that any noise could alert any passerby to what they were doing. Anita wanted her fuck, wanted her cherry popped, wanted to feel the man's hot hard meat driving deeply into her teeming twat.
Her nostrils flared with excitement.
She felt the man's mouth on her mouth again, his tongue stuffing her small mouth, flicking around her tongue, and then teasing the roof of her mouth. His cock continued to slither inward, pressing her greased hot walls outward, filling her with wild sensations of pleasure.
She felt the man's cock press against her hymen. For a moment, she stiffened again, and her face screwed up, as she prepared for the pain she expected. The man's arms went around her body, pressing her tightly into his throbbing chest, and he thrust inward.
Anita squealed against his mouth, as the fleeting pain filled her and then disappeared leaving behind only the hot hard pleasure of his cock ramming straight through to what felt like the back of Anita's spine.
Then he started to move in her, his cock pulling out until only his cock head was impaling her body, only to thrust inward again.
His hot heavy movements caused her cunt to ripple. She felt her thighs tremble, felt her pussy meat, already very swollen with desire, mashed against the man's hairy groin as he slammed into her.
She felt her pussy juices flowing down over the man's cock, and spewing out of her tightly filled hole.
Anita was in heaven. She had sat at the edge of the misty lake, knowing she shouldn't be in such an isolated place, feeling guilty for the wild desire which had coursed through her, and knowing that she wanted it more than anything in the world.
The voice of her conscience was a small, still voice indeed, as she gave heed to her overheated cunt, and wished that it was filled with man meat.
Now she was locked in the heavy hot embrace of a rapist. All the terror stories she had heard came back to her. They were stories that the girls told each other at night, never expecting to come across the fact of rape themselves, but the rapists in this community, and Anita had a feeling that this was the only one who had ever showed up here, were as gentle as the tenor of the life itself, just as slow and easy.
She heard the guttural grunting and breathing of the man. She felt her cuntal walls give way before the fleshy onslaught of the man's pecker, felt her whole body tremble with the delirium which filled her.
She threw her legs up in the air, as the passion and the pleasure built, and wrapped her legs around the man's undulating waist.
He was all wet and sweaty with his own desire, and his body felt glued to Anita's wet body.
She had waited so long for this, wanted it so intensely that it had been agony, and as each new girl had been picked off, she had felt more and more left out.
Now she belonged again. Her cunt was being reamed out by a big, thick cock. She wondered if the man were black, if he lived in the woods, and lurked around, waiting for little girls to be alone.
But no, she thought. Susan had got hers in the boat house, and surely if there were a black man in the community, someone would have noticed him. That was one of Anita's favorite fantasies when she was frigging herself.
And since she was blindfolded, there was no reason for her fantasy not to have full play.
She swiveled her hips upward onto the hairy base of the man's cock, savoring the wonderful feeling of his wiry pubic hairs as they brushed over her wet sticky pussy flesh.
She moaned, and the writhing of her body became more and more convulsive.
Hill closed his eyes, and savored the tight fit of her freshly-opened cunt. He felt enormous power in his prick, felt as if he could fuck the world.
He loved deflowering cherries.
He closed his eyes, and again the vision of his own daughters came to him. As he felt their impact in his imagination, so his cock responded to it. He felt his hips pumping harder and faster, with more and more desire into the hot sweet wet snatch of the little girl.
He felt her tiny tits rubbing against his powerful chest. He wasn't fucking Anita. He was fucking Debrah, and then Donna. They were so much alike, but they were easily distinguishable to their parents.
Beneath his body, it was not Anita's tits that rubbed lustfully against his sweating chest. It was Debrah's chest.
And it was Donna's sweet cunt which he was dipping his wick into. He could feel the sweet, thick honey of Anita's desire flowing downward, greasing his cock. He moved it in and out of her pussy faster and faster as his passion rose, wanting to feel her come beneath him, wanting to feel his daughters surrender to his hot, evil lust.
His breathing got heavier. It rasped harshly in his lust-constricted throat. His buttocks rose and fell lustfully driving his cock deeper and deeper into the little girl's ardent cunt.
Her lovely legs wrapped around his waist only added fuel to the wild fire which had possessed his loins.
As he fucked Anita faster and faster, he thought more and more intensely of his daughters. He had to have them! Had to dip his wick deeply into their little honey pots!
He fucked Anita more and more furiously. He felt the girl stiffen and then tremble under his hard-humping body. He pressed his mouth tightly to hers, to prevent the rutting noises from getting too loud, as the little girl started to come.
She writhed wildly, furiously under his hard-humping body.
He started to groan into her mouth, and his deep-throated groan was counterpointed by the high-pitched squeal of Anita, as she started to come violently.
Her climax peaked, and her body writhed wildly.
Hill felt her cuntal muscles gripping at his cock, felt her almost sucking the juices out of his balls.
His balls slapped wetly against her writhing ass, as they contracted, and spewed up their heavy load of scum.
He started to spew his heavy load into her. He felt as if he were dipping his wick into a boiling cauldron, so hot did Anita become. Their saliva mingled in the wild, prolonged kiss that glued their mouths together.
Hill's humping motions rocked Anita's body back and forth, as he slammed into her furiously, thinking the whole while that it was his daughters' cunts he was ramming into.
His balls spewed up wad after wad of hot, steaming jizz, deep into Anita's cunt, and then his body collapsed heavily on top of her quivering one.
She suddenly felt so frail beneath his heavy, adult body. He felt a great surge of tenderness ripple through him. His cock still throbbed, still unsatiated in her quivering quim.
He caressed her shiny red hair for awhile. She was quite still, her face flushed with the passion she had just experienced. He pulled his blood-stained cock out of the little girl's cunt and looked at her carefully.
She was lost in post-coital bliss. A faint smile flickered across her face. Hill swiftly put his clothes on, and left her.
Anita roused herself after awhile, coming-to enough to recognize that the man was gone. She removed the blindfold and put on her own clothes with trembling fingers.
She wondered if she sat where she was, for the rest of the day, if he would come back. She felt absolutely marvelous!
She sat where she was for awhile, savoring the warm tingling feelings in her cunt. The warm fabulous sensations did not go away. It stayed as she got up and walked through the quiet Sunday streets. She felt slightly unhinged.
She went into her house, and was met by her brother Paul.
"Oh, Paul," she said, sensing another discussion along the order of the one they'd been having for a week. "Go away! I don't want to talk to you now."
"But you gotta! Even Marcie's mad at me, and I thought we were going steady."
"I don't care," Anita said, heading toward the staircase, to go to her room. She wanted to masturbate.
"But I do!" Paul said, grabbing his sister's arm.
"Let me go. I don't want to talk to you!" Anita squealed.
"Children!" they heard from their parents' bedroom. Their mother and father liked to lie in bed till late, reading the Sunday papers together.
"No!" Paul whispered. "I won't let you go until you tell me what's happening. How come all you girls couldn't get enough of us, and now you avoid us like the plague?"
"Ma! Dad! Paul is picking on me! He's squeezing my arm!"
Mr. Lewis, a portly, dignified-looking man appeared suddenly at the head of the stairs. He pulled his glasses off, and looked sternly down at his son.
"What is the meaning of this, son? A gentleman never molests a lady."
"I want her to answer a question for me!"
"I answered it already!"
"No you didn't!" Paul screamed. "How come Marcie won't go to the dance with me?"
"Ask Marcie!" Anita spat, pulling away from her brother's arm. She stormed up the stairs and into her father's arms.
"Young man, that's all the answer you need. If you have a problem, you go to Marcie with it."
"But it's a conspiracy!"
Anita clucked her tongue in annoyance.
"You're silly, Paul," she said mildly. "There is no conspiracy at all against the boys at Willow Hill. You're just all such babies."
"Why are we babies?" Paul retorted.
"You hang out together, and you titter when the girls pass by on the street or in the corridors, instead of just plain saying hello. And all of us have always had to ask you for – for dates," Anita said, faltering on the real word, of which Paul was aware.
"Who needs it? That's kid's stuff."
"Humph! I've been trying to tell him that for two years now, Anita," her father said approvingly. He looked down at his son, over the eyeglasses which he had replaced.
There was a twinkle of hearty amusement in his eyes.
"Faint heart ne'er won fair lady, son."
The glint in Paul's eye was absolutely searing. He clenched his fist, looking up at his sister, cuddled in her father's arms, smiling smugly down at him, and then at his father with that bemused twinkle in his scholarly eyes.
"Argggh!" the young man growled. He turned on his heel, and rushed out of the house. Through the lovely cut-glass fan light which surrounded the mahogany door, Anita and her father watched him storming in the direction of Marcie's farm.
"Well, there's one young lady I suspect is going to be bowled over!"
Anita giggled, and reached up to kiss her father's stubbly cheek.
"You're wonderful, Daddy."
"I hope your young beau sees the light soon, too!" Mr. Lewis said, hugging his daughter, and heading back toward the peace and quiet of his bedroom, and his wife. He turned at the door.
"I like that young boy, Jack, ehh?"
"John, Daddy. He doesn't like to be called Jack." Anita blushed.
Paul stormed along the quiet Sunday road. In a meadow just before he came to the large spread of the Blake farm, he saw a group of Sunday school children picking flowers.
He walked up to the large red farmhouse, and knocked loudly on the front door, using the old-fashioned brass knocker, which was a lion's head with a ring through its nose.
"Yes, dear?" Mrs. Blake said, coming to the door, and looking at the young man, noting his flushed face.
"I-I wanted to speak to Marcie, ma'am," the boy said.
A faint hint of smile crossed the sweet woman's face. "Just a moment and I'll call her for you."
Through the opened door, he heard Mrs. Blake calling Marcie.
His heart beat faster when he heard her answer, and then heard her footsteps coming down the long, oaken floor of the front entrance.
She saw Paul and she frowned, and made a rush at the door, her fists clenched at her sides.
"What are you doing here?" she exclaimed.
"Marcie, do be gentle, dear. It never hurts."
Marcie glared at her mother, and then stepped closer to Paul. Paul felt his cock throbbing in his jeans, and a very evil thought entered his mind on this quiet Sunday two hours before church time.
"I want to talk to you now!" he said.
"Well, I don't want to talk to you."
Paul, damming Marcie, damning her mother, who watched astonished and amused at the same time, stepped into the hallway, and grabbed Marcie by the wrist, and dragged her through the door and down the steps.
Marcie swung at Paul with her free arm, but Paul grabbed it tightly, and just pulled her all the harder.
Her voice was muted in the warm fall air, as he dragged her across the meadow where the Sunday school children reminded him that there must be a God, and he hoped He wasn't watching, or if He were, that Paul would be forgiven for what he was about to do, and into the warm, sweet-smelling barn.
Even in the barn, Marcie's copper hair glowed as if it had absorbed some of the rays of the sun.
He walked up to her.
"See here, Marcie, I want you to go to the dance with me!" he demanded, shaking her roughly by her shoulders.
"I won't if I don't feel like it."
Paul pushed her back into the pile of hay where she had been so magnificently deflowered only the evening before, and before Marcie could object, or even struggle much, Paul had pulled off her jeans, and was struggling with his own jeans. He kept part of his body on top of the struggling Marcie while she squealed and thrashed under his body.
His anger added strength to Paul's body. He controlled her easily as his hand reached down and he pulled out his huge, thick cock.
He threw his body across Marcie's getting more and more excited by her struggling under him, feeling a sense of power ripple through him such as he had never felt before, and he started to kiss her.
When Marcie bit his lip hard, he merely bit her back. When Marcie slapped him, he hit her back. He became totally unscrupulous, but the more unscrupulous he became, it seemed to him, the more docile Marcie became.
Before long, he had her wrists pinned over her head with one hand, and with the other, he was fumbling with his raging cock. He placed it against her quivering hole, and realized that she was creaming.
He almost bellowed at the thought that he had so aroused her. But this time, Paul was not in a mood to be a gentleman or to content himself with a cheap feel. He was going to go all the way.
And he did. He thrust inward with a strong motion, and felt his cock slip into her well-greased cunt like a knife plunging through lard. The sensation against his sensitive cock flesh was fabulous.
He groaned, and Marcie sighed, and gave up fighting.
"Ohh, Paul…!"
Paul, thrusting violently into Marcie's cunt, wondered who the first guy had been, but he didn't care right now. He laid down the law.
"You're going to the dance with me Friday night, Marcie Blake, or I'm gonna fuck your eyeballs out!"
"Oh, fuck me, Paul. Fuck me."
Paul's muscular buttocks rose and fell in the air.
"Are you going to the dance with me?" he demanded again, his hairy groin slamming with almost brutal strength into Marcie's creaming, ardent, hot cunt.
"Oh, yes, Paul, yes!" she gasped.
Paul brought his mouth down and covered Marcie's. This time, instead of biting him, she sucked his tongue into her mouth, and moaned. Her hips began to respond.
She arched upward, slowly at first, swiveling her hips against Paul's hard-thrusting groin.
Paul forgot that what he was doing was so terrible. It felt so good, and Marcie was so beautiful, as she writhed and moaned in his arms, and all Paul could wonder was why in hell he had waited so long.
Marcie certainly wasn't too young, and she had had some experience. She didn't even have a cherry, and she appeared to be a natural at fucking.
Paul felt a tingle of pleasure coursing up his asshole. It pooled at the nape of his neck, and his hairs, wet with his sweat, curled with his passion.
He ground his cock heavily into Marcie's creaming cunt, feeling the silky-soft smoothness of her cuntal walls.
Her wet, sticky muff, that marvel of fleshy bliss, pressed upward, wetting his hairy groin, matting the hairs, and adding to the hot sensations which coursed through him.
He was almost glad he had got so angry, and pulled her out of her house.
Marcie's arms embraced him, and Paul felt her eager hands moving up and down his back.
He felt her hands move under his loosened waistband, to caress his rippling ass cheeks.
The hot pleasure grew until his balls churned up their heavy load. By the time he shot his first wad into her steaming cunt, her cuntal walls had closed in around his cock, gripping his manhood greedily, tightly.
They came together, rolling all over the sweet hay, and moaning their delight into each other's mouth, glued together as if they were never going to part.