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From: "Paris Waterman" <the_panda@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Girl From the Village:  Part 2
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Part 2
"His gorgeous cock," she thought as she fondled his balls. "Ohhhh, I 
gotta lick those balls," and so she did, taking them one at a time into 
her mouth.

Bruno, jubilant from the cocksucking Ginger’s activity, reprimanded 
himself for not going down on her.

"I can’t. It’s disgusting.’ He told himself. "The fuckin blood and the 
fishy smell. No way, I kin fuck ‘er but I can’t eat ‘er."

Instead, he inserted two fingers deep in her gaping cunt, and 
methodically moved them in and out in synch with her muscular 
contractions. Ginger’s cunt was wet with clots of blood and juices and 
as Bruno began using his thumb on her clit, he managed to bring her off. 
He watched in awe, as Ginger’s pelvis pumped frantically, causing her 
belly muscles to ripple as her orgasm approached.

Lost in lust and succumbing to the need to have her pussy sucked, 
Ginger’s body betrayed her mind, and Bruno heard her throaty voice croak 
out, "I want a woman! I need a woman!"

His male ego shattered, he slapped her face — hard with his free hand. 
Unconsciously, he continued finger fucking her.

Ginger wanted him to hit her again. She’d lost all self-respect for the 
moment. And she did want a woman’s mouth on her. She longed for the 
tremors a woman’s tongue would bring.

Bruno had an urge to strike her face again, but didn't. Instead he 
started slapping her ass. The sharp crack of his hand on her ass rang 
out into the night and for a moment Bruno thought they’d wake her 
parents with the noise. Ginger shrieked, but her lack of resistance to 
this assault gave her away. He knew she liked it, knew she wanted to be 
punished. He slammed her ass ten more times before stopping.

His fingers entered her cunt and found it sopping with her juices. 
Withdrawing the fingers and without rancor he raised his hand again and 
smacked her cunt flush on the lips.

Ginger groaned. "Ohhh, you fucker! Oh, you fuckin’ bastard!

He worked his index finger up her ass, twisted it in as far as he could 
and pulled it out only to stick the finger in her mouth. Ginger was 
flopping on the floor like a fish out of water, and eagerly sucked the 
remnants of shit off Bruno’s finger. Bruno, ruthless in his quest for 
revenge, taunted Ginger, asking permission to fuck her ass, knowing the 
answer before she did.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, ram it up there," she panted. "Can we get a woman too?" 
she sniveled ever hopeful he could work a miracle even at this hour, in 
this place.

"Shut up bitch!" he snarled.

Cowering, she lay on her back, Bruno placed her legs on his shoulders 
and shoved her soiled dress and then his pants under her ass. This put 
her asshole into an assailable position. He spit on his cock and began 
to work it into her ass. Ginger bent her knees, pulling them back to her 
chest, knowing from frequent use of her dildo that this would help his 
cock ream her ass. He was surprised with the ease of entry. She was 
tight, but he met with almost no resistance. Bruno stopped for a moment, 
then pulled back an inch or so before her ass pushed back at him and he 
lunged hard, his cock rammed forward, fully penetrating her asshole. 
Ginger moaned with a joyous pain.

"Ughhhh! Oh . . .yeah! Yeah! Oh, fuck me, fuck me!"

Realizing he was nearing his first climax, Bruno resorted to short, 
quick strokes while holding on to Ginger’s shoulders. As his climax 
approached, Bruno told himself he’d send the bitch home with an ache in 
her belly; he’d ream out every wrinkle in her ass.

"Yeah! Here I come! He gasped, and exulted as he imagined making her 
ovaries incandescent with his lightning bolts of cum; conveniently 
forgetting which hole he was fucking. Rising up, Bruno pulled his cock 
out of her ass with a soft pop ¾ spurting the remainder of his load onto 
Ginger’s belly.

A car’s headlights exposed them as it drove by. Ginger wondered if 
they’d been spotted. Bruno’d seen it too, and thinking it was the police 
reached for his white shorts. As he pulled them on over his steadily 
shrinking cock, he was agitated to find them covered with grime, blood 
and dust. As his lust continued to wane, he took in the area for the 
first time and reasoned out the house was empty and had been for some 
time. He glanced at Ginger and found her gazing at him.

"Christ," he said, "we were fuckin’ in a pig sty. We’re as filthy as 
this fuckin’ floor! Where’d ya find this fuckin’ place?"

"I . . .I didn’t know it was this bad." She said tentatively, fearful of 
Bruno’s wrath. "I just knew it was available. Ya know, I . . . I mean I 
never used it before . . .." she ended lamely. "Umm . . . ya got sumptin 
ta wipe this . . . cum . . . offa me?" Ginger stammered.

"Fuckit," Bruno said almost glumly, finishing pulling on his pants. He 
bent down and tossed Ginger’s dress to her. She caught it and using the 
hem, wiped the cum off herself, then drew it on over her shoulders. 
Bruno watched, somewhat disappointed, as her gorgeous body disappeared 
from his view in the dim lighting the porch provided.

Ginger looked at Bruno rather wistfully, and spoke softly. "I . . . err, 
gotta go."

"Lookit," he started to say, but she interrupted him.

"I mean I gotta pee."

"Oh, yeah, o’course," he replied.

She squatted in the near corner, making sure her dress was hiked up 
enough not to interfere with the flow, and released a torrid stream. 
Bruno took this in and when she’d finished he stepped forward and 
emptied his bladder in the same area, creating a minor flood.

Zipping up his fly, Bruno turned to face Ginger and resumed talking. 
"Err, listen . . .Ginger, I’m sorry I slapped ya back then. I mean 
before." Haltingly, he reached out and took her hand. "Maybe we could 
try this again. I . . .I think you’re a great broad, ya know. . . ."

Ginger stood there waiting.

The air was stifling with the heat and now the added stench of their 
piss drove them from the porch to the street. Side by side they drifted 
down the block leaving their fouled love nest behind them. It wasn’t 
much better. The smell of rancid butter gravitated to their nostrils 
from an unlidded garbage can. With no breeze, the stench hovered over 
the street, cloyingly distasteful, causing Bruno to wave his arm as 
though cleaving a machete through jungle brush to clear the air. They 
moved further on down the street, where they stopped. Both saturated 
with perspiration and grime.

Bruno leaned towards her, his hair plastered to his forehead, but then 
held back, thinking, "I can’t kiss ‘er. She’s sucked me off, an she had 
the rag on, an I stuck a shitty finger inner mouth. Shit!" He couldn’t 
overcome his revulsion. But he realized he was not sure which of them 
disgusted him more.

For her part, Ginger realized his dilemma and inwardly cringed. She 
rubbed her hands on the front of her dress and felt the spongy traces of 
semen still clinging there. Unconsciously, she rubbed it into the 
material as she tossed her head in a futile attempt to jounce the hair 
from it’s new home over her right eye. Disconsolate, Ginger began 
talking to herself.

"I disgust him. I never shoulda let ‘em take me here. I’m a fuckin’ 
mess. Lookit me! Probly got blood on my mouth," I’m filthy. He’s filthy. 
He’s right! It’s a pigsty. I led him to this friggin’ place an we rolled 
all over it. I hope to Gawd nobody shit on that floor . . . naw, I guess 
not, we’da smelled it by now." Shaking her head once forlornly, she 
managed a wane smile as she considered her fate this night. "I’m filthy, 
sure, but worse, he didn’t get me off like I thought he would. Instead 
he brings me". . . ."

Ginger realized Bruno was talking to her. "Oh, sorry. Whatcha say?"

"Err, ya wanna gimme your number?"

"Oh, sure. It’s 458-3901" she tossed the number out as though it was 
confetti. Looking at him defyingly, and then turning away, to face the 
bleak street looming outside the porch.

Dutifully, he wrote it down and Ginger was startled when he suddenly 
grabbed her purse and rummaged through it until he found her I.D. and 
other data, comparing it with the information she’d given him.

"You cunt! You lying cunt!" Bruno snarled and backhanded her across the 
face, causing her nose to bleed.

"So you want a woman do you?" He roared.

She stammered. "I . . . I . . . didn't mean anything, don't hit me 
again." Her hands covered her face as she cringed before his rage.

"No Ginger, you don't understand. I ain’t gonna hit ‘cha again." He bit 
his lip with a concern that hadn’t revealed itself earlier. "Ya jus’ 
keep pissin’ me off, ya know? Fact is, I’m sorry I hitcha in the first 
place."

His hand moved out to cup her chin as he studied her face. "I kinda 
figured you’d fuck me on the number. It wouldn’t ben the first time." He 
wiped a tear from his eye. His remorse was genuine. Reaching into his 
back pocket he produced a clean handkerchief and dabbed at the trickle 
of blood flowing from her nose.

Somewhat confused, Ginger took the handkerchief from Bruno and sniffled 
into it. "What is it with this guy," she wondered.

He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. Ginger closed her eyes, 
and sighed, her nose was no longer bleeding. Tentatively, she leaned 
against him, pressing her breast into his side. He felt good against 
her.

"Listen ta me now," his voice gruff, but no trace of anger remained. He 
confronted Ginger, placing both hands on her shoulders and stared into 
her eyes. "Tomorra, at seven, I’m gonna pick ya up at you’re place." 
Ginger’s eyes were downcast. "Ya hear me? A pathetic looking Ginger 
nodded that she did.

"Kay." Bruno licked his lip and continued. I admit I got kinda pissed 
when ya called out wantin’ a woman. Ya put a dent in my pride, ya know? 
Ginger nodded again, now looking up at his face.

She was riveted by the depth of his eyes; they seemed to be calling her 
¾ telling her to dive into their bottomless pools.

"I'll take ya tuh my friend Fria's place over in Hoboken. You’ll like 
him. He’s . . . well, ya know, he looks like Buddha and his joint . . 
.well, it caters to Lesbians. Ya come wit me; Fria’ll set us up. I never 
been there before, but we go way back. You can look the girls over an 
pick ya self a partner. Fria will set ‘cha up wit her. Course, she's 
gotta be available. But ya'll have your woman and me too. Yeah, I come 
wit the deal."

Bruno paused to catch his breath.

Ginger was getting excited again. She was thinking about wrapping her 
legs around him and forcing another fuck out of him. She knew she’d come 
this time. She had the buzz already. It left abruptly as Bruno 
continued.

"Now ya gotta take a bath before you meet me tomorra. Bruno uttered 
these words with parental authority. "I mean it. I want to taste ya 
cunt." With this he moved even closer. His lips were only a fraction of 
an inch from hers. "I wanna kiss ya mouth an I wanna stick my tongue up 
ya ass."

Stunned, Ginger told herself she didn’t hear him right. Still, she 
readied herself for his kiss and closed her eyes.

It never came. Bruno rambled on. "I just can’t bring myself tuh do it 
tonight, what with you having your period and all. Lookit ‘cha. Ya 
really need to be scrubbed down. Ya know what we’d a done ta ya in the 
Navy?" Not waiting for a reply he continued on. "We’d a thrown ya in the 
shower an scrubbed ya down wit brillo or wire brushes. Then cause you’re 
a broad, we’d a gang-banged ya. But chewd’a been clean."

Ginger looked on horrified. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be 
saying this to her. Images flashed through her mind. Her mother’s 
badgering her to clean up; to clean her room; to wash the makeup off her 
face. "Oh Gawd," she thought, "it was coming back to haunt her."

"So, err . . .I’ll see ya tomorra, kay? Oh yeah, where’s the subway? 
I’ll never get a cab this hour."

"You bastard," she thought and pointing in the opposite direction said, 
"About five, maybe six blocks that way."

"Yeah, well. . . I’m outta here." And Bruno strode off in the wrong 
direction.

"Now," Ginger said to herself, "how the fuck do I get back to the 
Village?"





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