Post Reply 
Steve, Abigail, Andrea, Rae and me
07-16-2011, 12:59 AM
Post: #1
Steve, Abigail, Andrea, Rae and me
A door. A wooden door painted red as the blood on my white T-shirt. Gleaming brass furniture. It’s my front door to be exact, the portal through which life has, up to now, delivered two devastating blows. One was barely minutes ago, the other was several months ago and both were by my own hand – aided only minimally by others. I need to explain myself to you, though I’m not sure why. I don’t even know you, but I'll do my best to be honest and tell you everything, while I still have the life in me to narrate. It starts, as most good stories do, with a blow-job.

‘Oh, yes! That’s more like it… Christ I’ve missed this. God, it seems to get bigger every time! Oooohmnnnghhoh… Fucking proper mouthful, not like… shtmnnnghhh… fills me everywhere this bastard. Ha! Come on my beauty, come to Mama… unghhnguuuunggh… Jesus… muahhnnnngnguhghh… Oh, Jimmy, I looooove your cock… mmmmngggoooooh… Oh, yes, come on baby, cum in my mouth… mmmmnnngghhh… spunk… squirt it for me… mmmmmmmnnnnggg… cum on baby… mmmmguhhhnn… oh, yes… mmmnnnghhh…fill my mouth… Oh, God, Oh yes… yes… do it… Oh Jesus! She’s back… But you said… Oh fuck! …Look, Andrea, it’s not what you… Andrea!’

Me and Steve. That’s Steve Elliott and me… well… we shared everything. When we were little kids it was sweets, jokes, pop, spooky stories, dirty stories, dens. As we grew up it was sweets, jokes, beer, spooky stories, dirty stories, cars. Oh, and girls.

Gary, Steve’s big brother, had a girlfriend and we used to spy on them… I learnt lots about girls while watching their antics. We stole Gary’s porn mags too and pored over them, whispering excitedly, discussing all the things we could do with a real live girl. So, when I took Abigail, my first girlfriend, round to Steve’s one Sunday afternoon - he had the house to himself – imagine our amazement and pleasure as she let us strip and explore her. No, it wasn’t that she let us – she made us. She wouldn’t let us penetrate her that first time - she wasn’t that desperate or daft - but she was very, very keen to have both of us setting about her with everything else we had. Abigail insisted we even compared our cocks to see whose was biggest, holding them both out in front of her face, threatening to kiss each tip, but never quite touching. Then she looked into our faces again and back at our cocks, a look of total confusion on her face, as if we were playing a trick on her. Even though Steve was much bigger in stature than me, I was bigger in that one major department. Indeed, mine was far superior, in both length and girth, and despite besting me in virtually everything else that mattered – honesty, loyalty, maturity, generosity, dependability - it always irked him that I dwarfed him so. I used to tell him that he’d catch up one day, but he never did - we haven’t compared cocks recently of course, but, as you may have gleaned, I have other ways of knowing that particular truth.

Our birthdays are close together: I’m exactly a week older. We were in the same football team for years and now we play golf together – he plays off 8, I’m off 9. We work in the same factory, though on different shifts. And we married sisters. Twin sisters. Identical. Abigail and Andrea. Yes, the loud, enthusiastic, cock-comparing girl we both practised on had a nicer, quieter, equally attractive and more studious sister.

After that first Sunday of adolescent exploration, Steve, Abigail and I often shared the Lord’s Day together and she spent much of it on her knees. Abigail would take us both in turn; insatiably, voraciously, till we either couldn’t get it up anymore or we were too sore or too tired – sometimes all three - and still she shouted for more. She wasn’t very bright but she was one hell of a girl. Then she got pregnant and, shortly after that, aged just 17, she married… Steve. I was devastated – no, more surprised, really - but, ‘a girl always knows who the father is,’ so she said, and I did remember his condom bursting on one occasion around the right time. After an initial panic and some soul searching, Steve was more than happy to take her on, really threw himself into it. He loved her. Really loved her and said he always had:
‘That day we both came in her face together, I said, ‘That’s the girl for me!’’ I guffawed at that, but his laugh barely covered a dark patina of pain that always appeared when he talked about our joint past. He was a good lad, Steve… no, more than a lad, even at that age… a good man, and Abigail was just… good at being bad. They lived with his mum and dad while Steve and I finished our respective apprenticeships and then, soon after the baby was born, they bought their own place: a new house in a new estate, right across the road from Andrea and me.

Andrea was a lovely girl: too fucking good for me as it turned out. I was obviously drawn to her by her looks – with their clothes on, it was hard to tell the stunning sisters apart – and also by her sweet innocence and sharp intelligence. We had twelve or so relatively happy years together, but she made love like a nun and sex became a weekly, then monthly chore. Then Abigail popped in on some spurious pretext one morning while Steve and Andrea were both at work and that’s when it all started to go wrong. If her short skirt, exposed cleavage and saucy smile weren’t enough of a come-on, her, ‘Fuck me with that big cock of yours, Jimmy, just like you used to,’ had me pulling down her wet knickers and entering her primed, bald cunt in seconds. After that, our illicit and increasingly wanton couplings became a regular thing. When Andrea came home half an hour early one afternoon and caught her naked sister blowing me off in the marital bed, she packed her things and quietly left that very day; the silent tears that streamed down her broken, incredulous face echoing the cum that had streamed down Abigail’s. She left apparently without explanation, without saying anything to anyone, yet her ‘Words of Damocles’ hung by a perilously fine fibre-optic cable above all our heads. One phone call would destroy all our lives: mine; Abigail’s; innocent, trusting Steve; and their gorgeous, even-more-innocent daughter, Ruth. I decided it was time I tried to be good and told Abigail I couldn’t see her anymore.

One evening, a couple of months after Andrea left, Steve and Ruth popped over to see how I was. I shouted down from the spare room where I was on the computer.
‘Come on up, Steve. Ruthie, just showing your dad something… get yourself a drink, sweetheart, put the telly on. Down in a minute.’ Steve leapt the stairs in four or five energetic bounds, and clomped into the room.
‘Hiya. What yer…’ He scrutinised the screen, saw I was checking my mail. ‘Any word since that email?’
‘Just one, Steve, just now. Says she’s settled and working, not to worry about her. Still can’t believe she just upped and left, Steve… no explanation. If Abigail hadn’t been there I don’t know what I might have done…’ The improvised lie turned in my gut like a sharp, slender blade.
‘Hey, mate, don’t talk like that. Plenty more fish in the sea…’ That cliché sank into the murky depths, but he began again with renewed enthusiasm. ‘How’s the online dating going? Hooked any?’ I shook my head and snorted disparagingly.
‘Twenty quid down the fucking drain. Christ, it’s the longest I’ve gone without sex since I was sixteen. I could really do with a shag!’
‘Hey, how’s about I send Abi over tonight, like the old days?’ I froze at that, a wan smile fixed on my stupid face. Steve laughed, punched my arm and continued. ‘Ha… got you there. Hey, don’t look like that… No fucking chance, mate. She’s mine! I got the dirty one and I’m keeping her… Oh, sorry Jimmy, didn’t mean it like that, mate. Fucking hell, sorry pal. What a fucking heartless thing to say…’ I shrugged and forced a laugh, trying to quell the raging river of blood that battered my eardrums and coloured my face. If he found out why Andrea had left me it would kill him - that’s after he’d killed me, of course.
‘That dating site is crap - all these old dears with soft-focus photos trying like fuck to look forty… or fat, sweaty birds trying to hold their guts in – but take a look at this!’ Steve quickly scanned the screen.
‘Erotic writing? What’s this shit you’re reading? Mills and Boon? What the fuck…?’
‘Not reading! Writing! And it’s a far cry from Mills and fucking Boon.’
‘What? Writing? You? Fuck off!’
‘Yeah, me. I love it! Listen, any fucker can come up with a dodgy scenario… boss and secretary, window cleaner and randy housewife, two latent lezzies trapped in a log cabin in a snowstorm…’ I paused while Steve’s jaw regained a more natural position. His eyes raped the screen, jumping from adjectival expletive to verbal expletive to graphic physical slang.
‘What’s this – incest stories? Yer not fuckin’ writing that twisted shite are you?’
‘No, course not. Most of the stuff on here is pretty straight, but there’s lots of brothers on sisters, mum’s and sons, dads and daughters on here too – well, it is an American site: fucking Hillbillies!’ Steve pursed his lips at that and drew in the longest breath, then shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
‘Fucking perverts. Who could fuck their own daughter… even think about it? So, what you been doing here?’
‘Writing and posting stories. Got women all over the world contacting me, saying they ‘love my sensitivity’, all that bollocks… and there’s a chat section where you just click on the list of people online, say, ‘Hi, what you reading? Do you write…’ Doesn’t take long for most of ‘em to drop their virtual knickers, get their virtual lips round your cock… there’s two or three I reckon, given time, I could even drag back here… for some real reality… or maybe I could go visit them.’ Steve’s raised eyebrows told me he wasn’t exactly convinced, so I continued, trying to persuade him. ‘Most of ‘em are from the States, so they’re out of the question, but there’s a few English girls too, and man, are they fucking hot. The things they write.’ I began to click on the on-screen links to show him some examples. He began reading and started to nod approvingly. ‘It’s fucking addictive though…’ and I suppressed a yawn which was trying to reinforce my next point. ‘I’m knackered every morning from being on this thing half the fucking night. Phew, it’s opened my eyes though!’ Steve pondered for a moment, gave me a wry smile and a slap on the back with a huge hand.
‘Jimmy, you’re a fucking dark horse. The one person in the world I would never accuse of having hidden depths,’ and he chortled at that cruel but keen observation, ‘…writing, getting in touch with his emotions! The things you’d do for a bit of flesh!’

I actually got some sleep over the next two or three nights - couldn’t go on as I had - and thought I might even have got control of it. Then, out of the ether, up popped a chat window with an extraordinarily sexy profile picture that lit up the right side of the screen – and, believe me, it’s no mean feat being so sexy without a head. The first thing that caught my eye was the contrast between the blood red underwear and her pale young skin… oh, and the second thing was the delicate hand that tented her lacy briefs as it toyed between her legs.. As the left side of the window began to fill with our text, so my sexual organs began to fill with hormone-charged blood.

Rae: hi
Jim: Hi! How are you?
Rae: fine. luv ur riting. is it autobigraphicle?
Jim: Some is, yes. I think you have to draw on real-life experiences xxx
Rae: i cld tell. whre r u?
Jim: UK You?
Rae: austin texas. can see the colorado frm my bedrum windo lol
Jim: That’s fantastic. Lucky girl. I went to the States once. Florida. It was nice. Nice people.
Rae: floridas shit. texas is the place. cum here nxt time. ill show u round ;-) lol
Jim: I see from your profile you don’t write - what are you reading at the moment?
Rae: u baby. just u tonite. luv how you tell it. anal, vaginal, oral… man ur hot, get my pussy hot n lubed
Jim: Your pic is really hot… you have a gorgeous body.
Rae: thats tame. i have pics get you squirtin soon as look at em. wanna see?
Jim: Yes please! I’ll swap some if you like…I have some too… I’m pretty big down there, tho I say it myself lol
Rae: u english r so sweet n polite. i luv a big dick. luv 2 suck em dry n ride em hard
Jim: Give me your email and I’ll send some through if you like xxx

I sent one photo in which I was shielding my manhood with my hand, then another where the tip disappeared beneath the waist band of my pulled down pants. A third quickly followed in which the shiny purple head could be seen poking out from behind my forearm as I cupped my hairy balls. She loved the last one, said she wanted to see it all, though added she loved how I was teasing her. So I gave her more, slowly, by degrees. Her photos were delicious and of course, like mine, all headless. Anonymity is obviously paramount in a place like that when your family or job could be at risk, but her body was so good I didn’t miss the head at all. At first she kept her underwear on and I began to think I was being short-changed, but then she started to disrobe, reveal herself. One morning I woke to find her perfect little titties pointing at the screen and soon, in response to the crescent, waxing and full phases of my shiny, purple helmet, her pics became very graphic. Squeezed titties and rosebud nipples progressed to full frontal, and soon my album of her poses included close-ups of her lips and clit, zoom-ins of her moist, pink innards, and shots of various dildos entering her very tight and very desirably shaved cunt. I got a close-up cunt pic up on my monitor, got myself hard and took a photo that looked like I was entering her. I wanked furiously and clicked again as I came, capturing a creamy rope that connected my dark glans to the moist vulva on the screen. She loved that one, begged for more and I complied. I checked my mail constantly and got depressed when there was nothing there. Then the computer would ding, my spirits would leap, heart would pound, and there she would be again, sliding something mineral or vegetable into her glistening, animal pussy. I was constantly hard, constantly masturbating, totally absorbed by this beautiful young woman from across the pond.

Jim: I’m loving what we’re doing here, but I’m single… no ties. Do you ever feel bad doing this. Does your boyfriend know?
Rae: bad? no. but cldnt tell him. hed kill me tho hes cheated on me nuff times. im kinda gettin even. do u wnt to end it?
Jim: Oh, no, Rae. I do not want to lose you xxx Is Rae your real name?
Rae: Yep. Jim urs?
Jim: It is
Rae: How old r u? U look vry fit. Grt body. Make me wet evry time i look at u
Jim: Thirties. U?
Rae: 20. at college. gonna b a teacher
Jim: You look younger. I was getting worried you weren’t legal, you know? (take that as a compliment xxx) The internet is great, but we’ve still to be civilised and responsible here lol.
Rae: thats true jim. thnx 4 caring. u have any videos of u doin it?
Jim: Doing what?
Rae: jerking off. luv 2 c u do tht. luv ur dick, what ive seen xxx
Jim: I’m off work tomorrow. I’ll do one specially for you… add sounds fx too, shout your name when I cum. lol OK?
Rae: gr8 jim. got 2 go. sleep well. luv u xxx
Jim: OK for some! I’m going to work now, baby! Love you too, Rae xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It’s easy to say you love someone when your cock is throbbing and aching to penetrate the hot, slippery depths of the recipient of your words… A cock instinctively knows it’s more likely to enter its primary target if those magic words are uttered, and, as we all know, a hard cock does all the talking for a guy. But I was beginning to believe those three words. We even talked about meeting up, one of us leaping on a plane to cross the ocean for a few days and nights of hot sex to see how we got on, but it felt like a fantasy, something that would never happen in reality. Over time though, I began to see how it could work and started to explore the possibility with her. After all, I had nothing to keep me here anymore.

I loved making that video. Really loved it. First, I took some self-portraits in various states of undress… and again I teased. A wayward sheet or a well-placed hand would hide my manhood, till soon I’d revealed almost all I had. My muscles are well defined and I’m slim and fit, but I’m no model. Still, raging lust soon gagged any lingering reservations I might have had about displaying my body so boldly. I sent her those photos around lunchtime and she replied immediately saying she was up early, finishing an assignment for college. She admitted I’d made her cum already today, but she still couldn’t wait for the video, was still wet-through just thinking about it. So I set up the camera for the video shoot. The sliding, mirrored wardrobe doors had seemed a great investment when Andrea and I chose them. They spiced up our married love life for a few weeks, but Andrea soon slipped back into her sexually-indolent self. Today the mirrors came into their own again as I positioned the camera so Rae would get two views of me sitting on the end of the bed: view one (the reflection in the glass) from the front, and view two (the real me) from the side. I recorded a practice run without cumming and checked it… Christ, I looked good, even though I say it myself! Then I dressed and set it to record again.

Action! I moaned loudly as I unbuttoned my shirt, pinching and pulling my nipples till my eyes watered. The buttons on my jeans popped open easily and I massaged my hardening member through my black briefs, all the while imagining her reactions. Then I said her name and slipped my hand inside. She had never seen all of me exposed, just segments, carefully selected sections, but now she was in for a treat. I stood and hooked my thumbs over the elastic and started to slide the material over my thighs. God, my cock couldn’t have throbbed more nor been harder if she’d really been there, dripping pussy gaping, begging me to fuck her. Out it sprang and I slowly sank back onto the bed, letting it wave freely in the air, pointing fervently to the ceiling. Long as a cucumber, fat as my wrist. And then I remembered she was going to masturbate to this – squeal and squirt her own cum onto her eager fingers – and it grew harder still. I stripped naked and began to pump, slowly at first, then gradually gaining speed. My saliva-dampened fingers rubbed the underside of the tip as I paused and again called her name. I closed my eyes and she was there with me, licking me, taking me deep. All too soon, the sweet familiar feelings began to blossom in my gut. I pumped and squeezed and they grew and grew, quickly expanding to a size that I could no longer contain. Thrusting my hips into my tight fist, I got shakily to my feet and, with a cry, let it all go. A wave of delicious magma scoured through my tubes, then erupted onto the polished glass as I jerked in violent ecstasy. I watched in amazement: once, twice, three times I splattered the mirror, then paused as I gathered my thoughts and breath. I pulled back hard and again the spasms shook me: four, five, six… this was something else. Hot, thick, creamy globules streamed down the cold glass and pooled on the floor. The orgasm finally peaked and more cum smeared and obscured my naked reflection. I collapsed onto the bed, more satisfied than I had been for a long time, the heady chemicals of sex still mixing and mingling in my organs. Eventually, lust was sated and only love remained to drive me. Fighting to control my breath, I looked straight into the camera while summoning and marshalling all my emotions. After the last few months, I had plenty of those in reserve and my eyes filled with overdue tears.
‘I love you, Rae,’ and I blew her a kiss.

Yes, I thought twice about sending the fucking thing. But that was it. Twice. ‘Shall I… er, shall I? Yeah…’ That was it. I quickly edited it, faded-in, faded-out, saved the file to a manageable size and pressed ‘send’. Click. Gone. While waiting for her reply email, I clicked on the Erotic Writing site and idly read a couple of poorly constructed torrid tales. I jumped when Rae’s chat window popped up, as though she too had caught me at it with another woman.

Rae: hi jim
Jim: Hi Rae… you ok?
Rae: fuck jim. ok just don’t define it. thats the hottest thing ive ever seen. ive cum n cum n cum snce u sent it. damn. best shit I ever cum 2.cant send 1 back tho my phone don’t do vids. luv2 tho xxxxx
Jim: I really enjoyed making that for you. I came so hard. Can’t believe how much there was. Took me ages to clean the mirror lol
Rae: do me another. pls xxx
Jim: OK! I’ll do one as soon as I can, but I have to go to work you know! Lol
Rae: luv u jim xxxxxxxxxxxxxx thx4 evrythng
Jim luv u 2 babe lol xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That was her final message. Ever. I emailed her many times but she didn’t reply; I tried to chat when she was online, but the caption always read, ‘Rae seems to have left the conversation.’ I was devastated, lonely, bereft without our daily exchanges and couldn’t for the life of me work out what I’d done wrong, nor how I could carry on without her. Then her profile disappeared from the writing site too and I knew I’d lost her forever. That painful certainty somehow made it easier to start over again in the real world.

I didn’t meet up with any of the women on and my subs for the dating site expired before I even started. Instead, I met someone – Ella - where normal people meet someone: in the local pub. She’d just separated, bought a house on the estate and was beyond my wildest dreams: cleverer than Andrea; sexier than Abigail; prettier than both. I agreed with what Steve said: ‘What the fuck she sees in you, God only knows’. Abigail stopped flirting, knew she couldn’t compete, though she did half-heartedly try it on a couple of times first to make sure. Yet, despite my unbelievable good fortune, I still secretly hankered after the headless, naked girl concealed in a hidden folder on my trusty computer and often turned to her for solace rather than to my incredible new partner. Rae was like a dark stain on my soul that would not wash out and I’m sure Ella could sense her, felt threatened by her sh
adow. Ella often jokingly alluded to another woman, though she had no concrete evidence of one, and Rae’s ‘absent presence’ became the one blot on an otherwise perfect relationship.

Abigail opened the door, kissed both Ella and me on the cheek and beckoned us into the house.
‘Birthday girl is upstairs.’ Her eyes motioned to the ceiling that vibrated to the bass notes of the rock music playing up there. She looked intently at the small cuboid parcel I held in my left hand. ‘If that’s what I think it is - and I know it is ‘cos you told me what it is – she’ll be over the moon.’ She cupped her hand to her mouth and squawked up the stairs. ‘Ruthie, Uncle Jim’s here… what? What?’ An unintelligible torrent of mingled words and music suddenly spewed from the opened bedroom door and the garbled mess tumbled down the stairs. ‘I think she says to go on up. Come on, Ella, I’ll get you a drink.’ I quickly climbed the stairs, poked my head around the door.

‘Come in, Uncle Jim. Where’s Ella?’
‘Your mum’s getting her a drink. Here you are, sweetheart.’
‘Oh my God! The iPhone, you got me the fu…. the iPhone. Oh Uncle Jim…’ and she threw her arms around me.
‘What’s your mum and dad got you?’
‘This… shut the door. Watch this!’
The gleaming silver laptop opened smoothly and easily, the large screen glowing eerily in the fading light of the day. I looked proudly at this lovely young woman that I had known all her life, yet never really got to know. Ruth bit her lip, clicked the keypad and I turned my head back to look at the screen. A video clip started playing. A guy undressing, moaning, squeezing his nipples… undoing his jeans, wanking himself inside his underpants. I couldn’t move. Suddenly, his cock sprung from its tight elastic bonds and hit me between the eyes like a caveman’s club. I was stunned. Only my jaw moved silently up and down. Breath had failed me and clear thought was impossible.
‘Couldn’t wait to watch this on a proper screen. My old monitor was crap. Two years I’ve waited… Jim…’ She looked at me pleadingly.
‘R… R… Ruth? Ruthie?’ The cogs in my mind started to grind again and meshed with an atavistic fight for survival. ‘Where’d you get this filth? What you doing watching this? Is it Redtube or something… switch it…’ but my eyes were fixed on the man and what he was doing. Writhing and bucking he grasped his cock like a hose, sprayed his cum on the mirror, crying out a name: ‘Rae, Rae…’ Rae. R. A. E. The truth hit me like a train. Ruth Abigail Elliott. The photos I still coveted, the graphic images I had spilled gallons of seed over were of my niece, Ruth. Little Ruth, the baby I’d rocked in my arms… Ruth, the little girl I’d taught to ride a bicycle… Ruth, the teenager I was currently teaching to play guitar. The young woman smiled sweetly, her mouth curling asymmetrically in a very sexy way, so reminiscent of her mother - the mother I was fingering, fucking and sucking at Ruth’s age; the mother whose hungry mouth had helped me get into this mess. But her eyes and manner were Andrea’s: calm; dignified; deeply intelligent. I suddenly realised what a beautiful girl she had become. Then the man’s face came into view.
‘I love you, Rae,’ and he blew a kiss.

‘We wouldn’t want anyone to…er, find this, would we Uncle Jim… I mean, think what people would say?’ At the end of her faltering statement her head lifted from her chest and she looked searchingly into my face. ‘Do you miss her… not, not Auntie Andrea… Do you miss… Rae?’
‘W…w…what? I don’t know what the fuck is going on here. I don’t… understand what…’ but I suddenly realised it was no use lying. She had the video and knew the relevance of the name I’d called out as I ejaculated. And it was definitely my face blowing the kiss to her, no hiding that. ‘You planned all this? How could you have? How did you know about… about… the writing site?’
‘I followed Dad up the stairs at your house one day, watched through the crack in the door, heard you tell him about that site. I was always spying on you… knew Mum came across here while Dad was at work, knew what you did. I could smell you on her when she got back… I’m not bloody stupid! And I should have been outraged, but, you know what? It turned me on. Course, it used to hurt me too, at the same time. Really hurt me – I was well fucked-up. Not just ‘cos you and that whore were cheating on Dad, but ‘cos she was having you when I wanted you. I found the site, searched for Jimmy, then Jim. It was that easy… and what you wrote excited me, I mean really excited me!’
‘All that fucking American shit… where’d that come from? I can’t believe that was you… can’t believe that Rae…’
‘When we started chatting, I didn’t have a plan, just winged it. Put ‘America’ into Wikipedia, stuck my finger into Austin, Texas and there she was. Rae. Seemed to have a life of her own. You liked her photos, didn’t you, Uncle Jimmy? You liked…’ and she slid the office chair across the short space between us, rested her hand on my knee, ‘…my body?’ I pushed the hand away and spat through my teeth:
‘Fucking hold it right there, young lady. You lied. I didn’t know it was you. Do you really think I’d… with my own niece? What sort of fucking pervert do you think I am? I was single, lonely… so fucking lonely. You took advantage of me!’
‘But I’m Rae, Jim. Rae. It’s me. I’ve missed you so much… it’s been a nightmare, these last two years, living so close, being so close but not being able to touch you, talk to you…’ She was crying now, huge drops falling from her long black lashes. ‘All that talk of meeting up freaked me out, so I took the video for a keepsake and got out while I could, before you found out who I was. Oh, Jim… I’ve missed you so much.’

It was instinctive. I held her, kissed her hair, then her nose… then her lips. A sigh gushed from her and our tongues danced. Rae, my beautiful Rae, here in my arms at last. Then, before I knew it and before my fragmented thoughts could collect themselves into a semblance of propriety, she was between my legs, tearing at my flies, freeing my cock from the depths of my pants and plunging it into her mouth. I just buried my face in my hands and cried. I knew I should push Ruth away, but knew I couldn’t push Rae away. The two faces of the gorgeous creature that sucked and wanked me flashed rapidly and incessantly across my mind. Sweet little innocent Ruthie: coarse American beauty Rae. I swung alternately and violently to the extremes of disgust and love. As the two opposing forces began to reach equilibrium, my body gave me away, made the choice that settled how it would go. I came in her mouth.

The rest of the party was a blur. I drank too much, went home early saying I felt ill. I switched on the computer, looked at the photos of Rae once again and cried some more. At least she was legal, so the law would not get involved, but she was my best mate’s daughter, she was my wife’s sister’s daughter and even I knew it was wrong, so very wrong, to carry on.

She skipped across the road, guitar in hand. Her white shirt was hanging out, grey pleated skirt halfway up her bare thighs and the loose knot on her school tie nestling halfway down her chest. I let her in with a smile and she kicked off her shoes, took out her music and started to tune up. We chatted idly, just like normal, as if nothing had happened in her room on the night of her birthday over a week before. Then I touched her hand, moved it to the correct position on the guitar’s neck and found I couldn’t let go. I was sweating, my voice was shaking and a dull surprise was uncoiling in my loins. Ruthie chose her moment, stopped playing and put the guitar down.
‘Jim, it’s me, Rae. It’s really me. Make love to me, Jim. Please make love to me.’ This time it was my turn to make the move. I dropped to my knees in front of her and she parted her legs at my bidding. The skirt rode even higher to reveal her… to totally reveal her. She’d left her knickers at home, come over here like this, pussy oozing, aching to be touched. My tongue lapped at the smooth skin around her hole and she pushed her hips forward, hoping I would penetrate her. I pulled away, took my time, explored every fold of her delicious young lips till she was dripping and whimpering. Her clit was large compared to the rest of her vulva and I found it with a kiss, then painted it with a series of quick, light strokes of the tongue. She tasted so incredibly sweet.
‘Don’t make me cum… not yet… I want you inside me…Oh, Jim, take me to bed. Fuck me… fuck me!’
I carried her upstairs and threw her playfully on the bed. She was squealing as she took off her school uniform and whooped with joy as I freed my rigid monster from its lair.
‘Shhhh, you’ll tell the whole fucking street what we’re doing.’
‘I don’t fucking care, let them come and watch!’
‘I fucking care. Get a grip or we won’t do this. My rules…’
She stuck out a petulant lip, then planted it on my purple tip. Her little pink tongue teased me, whirled around me, wiggled into the hole then took as much as she could down her throat. Gagging and laughing at the same time, she lay back on the bed and pulled me to her.
‘Break me in, big boy. Break – me - in.’

She was very wet, but she was very petite. It hurt her. She cried out, but insisted she took all of me.
‘I’ve waited years thinking about this moment. A little bit of pain…oooow… oh, oh, ooooh… isn’t gonna fucking spoil it.’
Her nipples found my mouth in turn and I bit them, pulled them, sucked each whole tiny titty into my mouth. Still I pushed deeper, millimetres at a time, till I felt her cervix bump against me. She squeezed me hard like a hot, soft vice. Sharp nails dug into my arse cheeks pulling me deeper, deeper, till eventually my hairy balls rested against her smooth, shaved skin.
‘Now fuck me. Really fuck me. I’m on the pill. Cum inside me, Jim…’ I drew it out and forced it back in. I felt huge and thought I must be damaging her in some way, but my massive injections seemed to anaesthetise her and pain suddenly left her. Her legs coiled around me and she began to breathe heavily, vocalising a deep grunt with every forced entry. Her hand reached down and touched herself, right where she became me, and she started to cum. I whispered to her, gentle words of reassurance and guidance.
‘Take your time, honey… I’m with you… I’m ready too, Rae…I’ll cum for you… we’ll cum together. Tell me when, baby… tell me…’
I exploded, like that time on the mirror, only harder. More and more spurted from me, more than I’d ever squirted in my life. Deep into my beloved Rae. My darling prodigal Rae.

With the number of guitar lessons she had after that, she should have played like Hendrix, but we – carelessly - hardly touched the damn thing. She got very good at sex though. Diploma standard. And, unlike my other students, I didn’t charge her - it just didn’t seem right, somehow.

Ella and I cooled off a little. Well, the sex had been very good, and she was a real trophy to have on your arm, but she couldn’t compete with my star pupil and I simply lost interest. Anyway, I was so exhausted keeping up with Rae that I just didn’t have the urge or energy to fuck anyone else. I told her it was work getting me down and she seemed to swallow it, began spending nights in a row at her own house. I was silently glad. On those golden occasions, Rae and I webcammed deep into the night, always pushing the boundaries, doing and saying the most bizarre things. The fact that she was just across the road, almost in touching distance, made it unbelievably frustrating and exciting.
‘Stick a match into the hole at end of your cock and light it. You’ve got to cum to put it out or it will burn you…’ I was so turned on, that I only had to pull it back a couple of times before a stream of jism quelled the hungry flame.
‘Shove a cucumber up your cunt then put it back in the fridge. Do it. Now.’ And she’d show me its slow entry, then pull out the juice-streaked fruit from her loins and laugh a very dirty laugh.
‘Mum loves a nice cucumber…’
‘Yes, I remember…’ She scowled and growled at that, hated to think her mother had once enjoyed what she was now enjoying. In truth, Abigail was a saint next to her daughter, a fucking saint.

After a few months of that, I made another video for her and this time she was the star. The mirrors worked well again, giving us panoramic views, angles that would have been impossible otherwise. The camera spurred her on to even greater heights of depravity. She brought over a strap on and I fucked both her holes simultaneously… maybe not quite what she had in mind… the girl, once so difficult to enter, was now a pro, able to tighten and release her muscles at will. I emailed the edited results to her and she emailed me back saying she came without touching herself. That was a first, she purred:
‘I never even fucking laid a finger on me, just watched you rodding me and I came so hard. I love you, Jim.’
‘Love you too, Rae.’

Tuesday. 4pm. Knock on the door. She was early but that only meant we had more time together. I’d taken my briefs off so that when she pulled my flies open there’d be nothing in the way… Christ, she made me hard just thinking about it… Bam! I felt a crack at the back of my head where it hit the wall then found myself on the floor, my jaw numb, lip bleeding profusely. The door slammed closed and Abigail stood over me in the hallway, rubbing her fist, which was noticeably swollen.
‘Ouch! Fuck… think it’s broken, but man, it was worth it.’ A foot found my unprotected groin and I threw up, then doubled up in agony. ‘You bastard. You cunt. Fucked her did you? Fucked my daughter? Filmed it as well. You fucking pervert. It’s a game to you isn’t it? Fucked me, my sister, my daughter – why not fuck mum and gran and get the whole fucking set?’ My temple received a swingeing blow on the final word, the force cracking my head into the wall again. ‘How long?’ A pointed shoe connected with my ribs and now I was in danger of being badly hurt, but the pain in my groin and guts immobilised me. ‘How fucking long you been doing this? Don’t deny it, you fucking low-life. Seen the video myself – well, enough to know what happens, as much as I could stand to… Wondered why she spent all that time in her room. You cunt!’ She kicked me hard again, this time in the stomach. ‘You had Ella, a fucking gorgeous woman to screw… and I fucking threw myself at you enough times, yer bastard, but no, I wasn’t fucking good enough for you, was I? Was I?’ Her foot thudded into me with each syllable. ‘So then you went and fucked my little girl… my little girl…’ She was crying, but between the tears she still rained savage blows on me.
‘Abigail! Fucking stop it, will you…’
‘Fucking stop it? This isn’t going to stop till you’re dead. You hear me? And when Steve finds out he’ll come over and give you another kicking.’
‘Stop now… or… I’ll tell him why Andrea left…’ That worked. That put the bitch off balance long enough for me to reach across the laminate flooring, grab her leg and drag her down to my level. She shrieked as she slipped then hit the puke-covered floor beside me with a sickening thud. Vomit leapt from the bleached oak as she crashed down, splattering my face, the walls and the skirting board. In the slow-motion moments that followed the storm, she lay on her back, moaning and sobbing, the wind and the fight knocked from her.

‘Is that what you want, break his fucking heart too?’ I gasped, trying to ride the wave of pain that spread through my torso. ‘Yes, I fucked your daughter, if you must put it like that, but… I love her, Abi.’ The look on her face was more fear than anything else, like I’d gone completely mad. ‘I met her online. She was called Rae… didn’t know it was Ruth. I promise. I fell in love with her…’ Abigail's hot, laboured breath washed over my face as she rolled over onto her side to face me, suddenly parodying our countless previous intimacies. Gobbets of puke adorned her dark hair, tears and bile smeared her heavy make-up and her face was ugly with pain, fear and confusion. She looked a fucking mess, but then I bet I was no oil painting either. Her fearful look suddenly passed and disdain then hatred quickly took its place. She grabbed me by my shirt collar, pulled herself closer to me and spat into my face.
‘Fell in love? You fucking idiot. You don’t know do you? I always assumed you were bright enough to work it out, smart enough to keep out of it…’ My puzzled look drew a bitter laugh from her belly. ‘She’s yours, you soft cunt. Ruth’s your daughter.’

I remember feeling sick again, then a massive whale of confused turmoil broke through the surface of my nausea. It thrashed, bucked and splashed inside my skull, destroying everything old and swallowing every new lucid thought. Abigail continued her verbal assault, somehow riding the maelstrom like a demented Captain Ahab, and every barbed word stuck.
‘And you thought I married Steve ‘cos he was the father. Really? You are thicker than you look. I always knew you were her dad, but I wouldn’t have married you. You’re fucking useless at everything but… but fucking. You’ve no love in you, only for yourself. Not half the man Steve is. I chose Steve because I knew he’d love me and protect me. And he has. Good as his word, my Steven, never broken it. You’d have fucked off as soon as the going got rough.’ There was bitter truth in her words but I tried to fight back.
‘I stuck wi’ your Andrea long enough!’
‘Yeah, only cos you were fucking me on the side… and there were no kid to think about. You wouldn’t have coped wi’ that, would you?’ She was right. I’d have run and hid years ago.
‘I’m sorry, Abigail. So fucking sorry… but it’s true and I can’t help it. I love her. What’s going to happen?’
‘I won’t be hasty, Jim. There’s a lot for me to think about, but nothing for you. This is a no-brainer, Jim boy. Just go away from here. Leave your daughter alone. Fucking leave us all alone.’ My face crumpled, but she was relentless. ‘We both hold good cards, Jimmy. Look - I could tell Steve what you’ve been doing to his daughter. I could tell Ruth that you’re her dad – prove it too, wi’ blood tests… then again you could tell Steve why Andrea left… tell Steve he’s not Ruth’s dad. He’d still kill you, but that would fuck everyone’s life up.’ She slowly, disgustedly got to her feet. The vomit-covering hands turned her blue jeans black as she wiped them on her thighs. ‘I’m going home to think about it. You’d better make a will, ‘cos if I do tell Steve, you’ll be dead before you ever get the chance to say anything about you and me. You fucking cunt!’ She kicked me again then slammed the door and left.

That was hours ago. I’m still here, lying in the cold sick and the gathering darkness, staring at the front door. Who will come through it next? Ella? How would I explain the state of me? Abigail? To berate and kick me again? Might Andrea walk silently in, pick up from where she left, as if nothing had happened, without another word on the subject? How about Steve, to finish me off? Maybe Rae will nurse me in her arms, patch and clean me up, then steal me away to her Texas home… fuck, I’m really confused, aren’t I? No. There is no Rae. I have a daughter… me, a father, for fuck sake… I have a daughter I may never see again. I suddenly realise that my life is no longer my own. Ha! What a fucking laugh that is - it never was my own: my cock ruled me, but even he’s dethroned now, holds no sway at all. Suddenly it’s all crystal clear: my future depends entirely on an extremely bitter, rather dim and very angry woman.

Visit this user's websiteFind all posts by this user
Quote this message in a reply
Post Reply 

Possibly Related Threads...
Thread:AuthorReplies:Views:Last Post
  Andrea's New Transformation angelkisses 0 4,256 07-15-2011 05:38 AM
Last Post: angelkisses
  Abigail finds her niche, but it's a long road. angelkisses 1 1,621 07-10-2011 07:14 AM
Last Post: angelkisses
  Karen, Steve and Monique angelkisses 0 1,250 07-09-2011 01:59 AM
Last Post: angelkisses
  Steve... angelkisses 0 1,151 07-09-2011 01:53 AM
Last Post: angelkisses