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Subject: {Twassel}JDR"The Better To ..."()[1/1]
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JOHN DARK REPOST
The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are
below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic
erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story
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make any guarantee. You should be aware that the story might raise other
matters that you find distasteful. You read at your own risk.
The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming
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=====================
Mat Twassel has given John Dark permission to repost this story.
This story is copyright by the author.
=====================
The Better To ...
by M M Twassel
On a beautifully mild fall afternoon a trim convertible
scooted into a little filling station just off the rural
highway. The driver, a lithe young woman of at most
nineteen, parked her sports car in front of the single self-
service pump and got out and stretched and looked around.
It was the middle of nowhere. Hills of color-heavy forest
loomed all around. Crickets munched the hot air. The
cinderblock building squatted in the sun, its broad pane of
glass catching the glare full-face, showing the girl nothing
but golden light. The young woman shrugged her thin
shoulders and lightly shook her mane of rich red hair; and
then she filled the tank, and went inside the little hut to
pay.
"Yummy day, isn't it?" said the cashier, herself a young
woman barely into her twenties.
"You shore do have the reddest hair," the cashier said as
she counted out the change, placing each bill carefully into
the girl's small palm. "Red as those trees out there...
Beautiful beyond for sure!"
The girl's face reddened a touch and she brushed her hand
across a few stray strands. "Thank you," she said. Two coins
slipped from her grasp; the copper circlets clattered and
jingled against the counter top before wobbling to a stop.
"What a nice noise they make!" the cashier remarked, "I love
when they do that little dance." The girl smiled at the gas
station woman.
"And what beautiful big eyes you have, so green and glinty."
Again the girl blushed.
"Don't tell me you're not used to compliments! A beauty like
you?"
The girl looked down shyly. "I guess I'm just tired from all
the driving and jittery from too much coffee. Do you, uh,
have a bathroom I could use?"
"Right back there, honey, just help yourself."
A moment later the girl came out of the cubby.
"Did you have a good pee?" the cashier grinned. "It shore
did sound like it."
"Oh God!" the girl said, blushing again, "Was I that loud?"
The cashier grinned wider. "I've been told I've got big
ears, but don't you worry: that sweet little gurgle of yours
was no more loud than the trickle of a baby brook. Forgive
me, I just wanted to see you blush one more time. You look
so delicious all red and flushed like that."
"You're making me do it again," the girl said, laughing
lightly, but yes, blushing.
"I know! I'm mean, aren't I?"
The girl nodded, adding a shy smile.
"I'm Sara," the cashier said, offering a hand of long slim
fingers, the nails clean and sharp and colorless.
"Annie," said the girl, touching the woman's fingers lightly
with her own.
"Hi, Annie, so nice to meet you. Are you going far?"
"Well," Annie said, "I hope not too far. Do you know where
Hunters Road is?"
"Shore do!" Sara said. "Right up in those hills. 'Course
it's kinda tricky to get to. What do you want with Hunters
Road?"
"My boyfriend's grandma has a cabin up there. He's arranged
for us to use it for a few days." The girl suddenly blushed
deeply.
"That is so sweet," Sara said. "Is your boyfriend up there
now?"
"I don't think so," Annie said. "Bard had some family
business in the city. He said if I got to the cabin first
there'd be a key under the mat."
"That wouldn't be Bobbie Bard?" Sara said. "Your boyfriend?"
"You know him?"
"We've had our little spot of history," Sara said. "Nothing
monumental or momentous. Nothing that couldn't be fixed."
"Robert, I mean Professor Bard was, uh, is my history
professor up at college."
"Oh," Sara said, "Figures. Is he a good teacher?"
"He's very patient," Annie said.
"Mm," Sara hummed.
"Patient and persistent."
"Uh-huh," Sara said. "The Bard I remember, well, I would've
picked a different p-word... one that rhymes with ick."
"Oh no," Annie said, "Bard is gentle and wise and
understanding."
"Maybe he's mellowed some," Sara conceded. "Is he a good
lover?"
Annie squeaked softly. "We haven't, um, we haven't
actually..."
"Been to bed?" Sara said.
Annie nodded.
"I see," Sara said. "So you're planning on doing it this
weekend, you and your Professor Bard, in Grandma's big bed?"
"Oh, no!" Annie insisted, "We're more along the lines of
just good friends, you know? Robert's going to bring his
sister and everything."
"His sister, huh?" Sara said.
"Yes, I haven't met her yet... I guess she's about my age or
a little older."
"Mm.. Well, I can tell you exactly how to get up to that
cabin," Sara said. "But if I were you, I'd be sure to bring
along a little protection."
"Protection?" Annie said. "You mean like ... condoms? I told
you Robert and I weren't...aren't..."
"Protection like this," Sara said. From behind the counter,
she drew out a gold-plated pistol. Stray sunlight danced
along the gleam of the long barrel. "You want to borrow this
baby?" Sara asked, hefting it playfully.
"Ugh, I hate guns," Annie said, shivering slightly; and Sara
couldn't help noticing the light little ripple of Annie's
breasts brushing her blouse.
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
"It's beautiful up there in the woods," Sara said,
"Beautiful, but wild... in fact, there's rumors of a madman
roaming those very woods."
"Madman?"
"Probably just a story."
"Oh."
"Although some people HAVE disappeared."
"Really!"
"Naw, I'm just teasin' you. Still..." Sara waved the gun.
"Thanks but no thanks," Annie said. "I'm a big girl. I can
be brave. I can take care of myself."
"Well, then, best follow my directions carefully," Sara said
sternly. "We may have rounded up all the madmen, but there's
still plenty of lions and tigers and bears." Then she
giggled. "When all is said and done, it might be a good idea
to stick close to the path... and don't talk to strangers!"
Annie smiled and said thank you and waved goodbye.
A moment after Annie's convertible pulled onto the highway,
Sara flipped the store-window sign to closed, hopped into
her pickup, and chugged up the steep back roads.
***
The key, sure enough, was under the mat. Sara unlocked the
door and put the key in the back pocket of her jeans. It
took only a moment for her to fix things inside the cabin;
then she backed her truck down the lane and onto Hunters
Road. She drove a few hundred yards down the hill, parked,
and waited.
About twenty minutes later Sara heard the snug purr of
Annie's convertible coming along the road from the opposite
direction. Sara's fingers tightened on the steering wheel of
her truck, but she sat still until she heard the little
car's engine shut off. Then she started up her pickup and
drove to the little cabin, parking directly behind Annie's
car.
Annie was standing on the porch, her hands on her hips. "Why
did you follow me?" Annie said. There was anger mixed with
puzzlement in her bright green eyes. "The key's not here. I
looked. I looked under the mat and it's not there. It's not
anywhere. What are you doing here? What should I do? I'm
sorry. Shit. God. Shit."
"Hush," Sara said softly, stepping up to Annie. "Hush." She
touched the girl on the delicate point of her shoulder, then
moved her fingers slowly inward towards the thin neck. She
crossed the little ridge of fabric onto bare skin, and Annie
shivered. Sara's fingers moved slowly up the slope, all the
way to the little earlobe, unadorned, bare under the bright
red hair. Annie stood still as if momentarily paralyzed by
Sara's touch. Sara gave the girl's earlobe a small squeeze
before withdrawing her hand, breaking the spell.
"But the key's not there!" Annie said. She looked
bewildered, helpless, almost about to sob.
"I know," Sara said. "I know. You know what I think?"
"What?" Annie asked... her big eyes wide with hope and
interest.
"I think you have a really nice perfume."
"Huh? But I'm... I don't..."
Sara pressed her finger against Annie's lips. "Shy and quiet
and a little woodsy, like a soft place in a deep forest, a
secret place untouched by man, with just a wet little hint
of want."
"I'm not wearing any perfume," Annie blurted, and then she
bit her plump lower lip between her teeth, the tip of her
tongue touching the spot where Sara's finger had rested an
instant before.
"Oh ho," Sara said, eyes sparkling, "I'm known for my sharp
nose." She grinned boldly. "I wouldn't make that up about
your smell. Fear and excitement do a good job of bringing up
the flavor."
Sara moved her fingers slowly towards Annie's face, but the
girl brushed them away. "Who cares about my smell," she said
angrily, "The key's not under the mat. He said the key would
be under the mat and it isn't."
"Don't yelp," Sara said. "Maybe he just lied. Men will do
that you know. Or maybe someone took it."
"I've been driving all day," Annie said. I'm hot and sticky
and all I want to do is get inside and take a long hot
bath."
Sara chuckled.
"What's so funny?"
Sara gave a girlish snort. "Your long hot bath. There's no
bathtub in there. Cabins like these don't have bathrooms."
"They don't?"
"Not even running water. No electricity. No phones.
Nothing. I told you, it's wickedly wild up here."
"How am I supposed to wash?"
Sara snorted again. "You're more than clean enough for these
woods. You could stumble across some springs lower down, but
even in mid-summer that water's icy."
Annie choked back a sniffle, and then in a small but not
quite calm voice said, "How come you followed me?"
Sara smiled. She allowed some mid-afternoon sunlight to soak
into the silence. "Woman's intuition," she said at last. "I
just wanted to be sure you were safe; that you didn't lose
your way."
"Oh," Annie said, and then as an after-thought, "Thanks, but
your directions were just perfect... as you can see I got
here just fine... for all the good it did me. I guess I'll
just sit here and wait for Bard."
"Also, I thought maybe I ought to try one more time to
convince you to borrow the gun," Sara said, and she patted
her shoulder bag.
Annie glared at her. "You know how I feel about that."
"Ok, ok. But I do have something else for you." Sara reached
into the pocket of her jeans. She opened her fist. Two
bright pennies. "You forgot your change."
"You drove all the way up here to give me two cents!"
"Yeah!"
"What a silly thing!"
"That's me, Silly Sara."
"Ok, Silly Sara," Annie said, taking the coins. "Two shiny
pennies--now what should I do with them?"
"Hold one in each hand, for luck, and don't let go until I
tell you to."
Annie laughed, and she held tightly to the coins.
***
For a few minutes Sara and Annie sat next to one another on
the small stoop of the porch. They watched a warm breeze toy
with the treetops, and a pair of pale yellow butterflies
worrying a patch of wildflowers. Annie didn't seem to know
where to rest her hands. "Have you tried the windows?" Sara
suggested.
Two windows flanked the front door. Sara grunted with effort
but neither window would gave an inch.
"The fuckers are either locked," Sara said, "Or swollen
shut."
Sara and Annie stepped around to the east wall and found the
window there also bolted firm. The back of the cabin had no
windows, only a big stone chimney. But near the crown of the
west wall they saw one small window--it glimmered gold with
sunlight.
"It's awfully high up," Annie said, "And much too tight."
"You don't know what you can't squeeze into 'til you try,"
Sara said, and with her right hand she swatted herself twice
on the tight plump rear of her britches. "Besides, you're
so slim, I bet you could slip through with barely a wiggle."
Annie looked doubtful.
"It looks smaller than it is," Sara said, "Perspective can
fool you."
"It's too high up," Annie announced, a slight scoff in her
voice. "And probably locked anyway. Why don't we just throw
a rock through one of the front windows?"
"I wouldn't recommend that," Sara said, "Not unless you feel
like being dinner for 17 million mosquitoes. I think we
should at least try that west window."
"It's too high," Annie repeated.
"I could boost you," Sara said. "If you stood on my
shoulders you could reach it easy! What's the harm in
trying?"
"What am I supposed to do, just climb up you?"
"That's right, climb right up... Only first you're going to
have to take off your skirt. You can't climb in that."
"Oh no," Annie said with a laugh, "I couldn't."
"Why not? Is it glued on? Come on, it's just us girls here.
I've seen plenty of girls in just their panties before."
"The thing is...you see... I'm not wearing any... panties."
"Oh."
"I know it's wicked, but when I'm driving I like to feel the
air, the rush of it. Aren't I horrible?"
"Oh no," Sara said. "I think it's wonderful."
"But I feel so ashamed," Annie said.
"You shouldn't," Sara said. "You have the most beautiful
body. There's nothing shameful about it."
"You think so?"
"Definitely!"
"Well, I still don't think I can take my skirt off."
"Would it help if I took my jeans off first?"
"I don't see how," Annie said.
"Simple," Sara said, and she shucked her jeans right down
and stepped out of them, and then she drew down her panties
and stepped out of them as well.
"That's not what I meant," Annie said, unable to keep her
eyes from Sara's dark pelt, a thick delta of shiny black
hair dipping between her legs."
"So smooth and sleek," Annie whispered, and then bit her
lower lip.
"Just pussy fur," Sara said. "No big deal. Now you."
"I've never..."
"Would it help if I helped?" Sara asked, and when Annie
didn't answer, Sara knelt before the girl, and slowly pulled
the skirt down. "Step out of it," Sara instructed.
Tentatively, the girl complied.
"Ooh," Sara crooned. "Special. Just the way I knew it would
be. What a fiery little cowl of cunt hair you have. So
neatly wild and snug and soft-looking. I'm honored, Annie, I
shorely am honored." Sara brushed her lips against the
fierce puff, and then turned her face to let the pudendal
fleece caress her cheek. "Ah," she said, sighing from deep
within, "Turn now and let me see your butt, and then we'll
be done with it." Sara's hands, firm but gentle on the
girl's hips, helped her through the pivot.
"Pretty," Sara said, standing up behind Annie. "So high up
and pert and perfect." She stood there for a moment letting
her black bush graze against Annie's little bottom. "Well,"
Sara laughed, "We might as well strip off our tops and be
completely bare--these ARE the woods, after all."
Annie didn't answer, didn't move a muscle.
Sara pulled off her own jersey and unhooked her bra and let
these tangle in the crude grass beside her jeans.
"Sun and air is such a fine thing for woman flesh," Sara
said. "I don't see how anyone survives in the city."
Annie kept her position facing the west wall of the cabin,
the tiny high-up window looking down at them.
"Undo the buttons of your blouse," Sara said gently.
"I can't," Annie said.
"Why not?"
"I'm too ashamed! And also... you told me to hold onto the
pennies."
"Oh," Sara said, "I forgot about those; here, let me help."
Sara stood behind Annie, and working top to bottom, slowly
unbuttoned the blouse, then drew it back over Annie's
shoulders.
Sara reached her hands around, weighing Annie's small
breasts. "They're little poems," Sara said. "Like fruit but
a breath from ripeness." Sara brought her lips to the point
of Annie's neck, and with finger and thumb pinched each tiny
nipple. "So small and perfect, pointed each with your shy
sweet pulse."
Annie turned and brought her arms up, crossing them in front
of her breasts. "What about the climbing?" she said,
shivering in the sun.
"Oh, the climbing, yes," Sara answered.
"Truly I can't climb on you without clothes. Please?"
"Nonsense, just shinny on up."
"I never really learned to shinny," Annie said.
"Well then, what if I kneel down, and you stand up on my
shoulders, and then when I stand up... won't that work?"
Annie said nothing.
"Try."
"What about these?" Annie asked, opening her hands to show
Sara the bright copper circles, one in the center of each
palm.
"We keep forgetting those pennies, don't we," Sara said.
"You're such a good girl. Just put them in my purse."
Sara watched as Annie bent over to open the shoulder bag.
"You have the loveliest little ass," Sara said.
Immediately Annie went to one knee. She jerked the purse
zipper, but flinched upon glimpsing the gun.
"You'd think it was a snake," Sara said. "Go ahead, put the
pennies in--it won't bite."
Annie shivered as she let the pennies fall into Sara's
purse.
"Good girl," Sara said. "Now let's do it!" She crouched low
against the cabin wall. "Put your right foot on my right
shoulder."
"There, that was easy. Now the other."
"I can't, I'll fall," Annie said.
"You won't. Try it."
But Annie was right: the girls tumbled together on the soft
ground.
"This isn't working," Annie said.
"I know," Sara said.
"I saw a wheelbarrow around back," Annie said. "Maybe we
could use that."
Sara agreed. They wheeled it around, snugged it against the
wall.
"It's awful rickety," Annie said.
"That's 'cause the ground is so soft here. It'll settle down
when you stand on it."
Annie stepped up into the trough of the wheelbarrow, her
hands braced against the wall. "Now what?" she asked. "This
thing feels real wobbly. I feel so stupid."
"Hold steady," Sara said, her hands lightly on the girl's
hips. "There," she said, "You're doing fine." She stroked a
nail along Annie's spine, edging it into the groove above
the buttocks. Annie shivered. "You've got good balance,"
Sara said. She caressed Annie's bottom. "Excellent balance."
"Stop that," Annie said, "I feel foolish enough as it is."
"Ok," Sara said, "I was just testing your balance. You have
wonderful balance."
"Enough about my balance," Annie said. "What do I do now?"
"Try stepping up onto my shoulders," Sara offered.
"I feel stupid," Annie said.
"There," Sara said. "Easy Daisy. Now the other."
Annie settled on Sara's shoulders. She was squatting,
practically sitting on Sara's head.
"I feel so foolish," Annie said. "More foolish than when I
was in the wheelbarrow. And your hair tickles."
"You're doing good," Sara said. "Try to stand up. Take it
slow."
Slowly Annie drew herself up, her hands creeping up the
cabin's sun-bright western wall.
"You're doing it!" Sara said. "Can you grip the ledge?"
"Don't talk," Annie said. "Don't move. Don't breathe."
"Can you pull yourself up a little more?"
"It's too thin," Annie said. "There's nothing to grip."
"This soil feels like it's sinking," Sara said. "Maybe you
better come down."
"If I can just reach that center part..." Annie said.
"Annie, this ground is giving... come down. I can drive the
truck under; that'll make it easy."
"I'm almost there," Annie said, "Please, please just push.
Just push me a little more. I'm almost there."
Sara looked up. Her eyes climbed the long curve of Annie's
legs, a slow smooth mix of marble into melon, flesh warmed
by hot west sun, a delicate quiver near one buttock's
crease, and the sex lips slipping slightly open as Annie
stretched herself upward one final inch. Sara saw the
sunlight slice into that intimate place, a slim sparkle of
silver flashing across wet cunt skin.
***
"Where am I?" Annie asked. "What happened?"
"You fell," Sara said. "You hit your head on the edge of
that wheelbarrow.
Annie's eyes glistened.
"You're in Grandma's big bed."
Annie looked doubtful.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Sara?" Annie said. "How did we get in?"
"Through the door," Sara said. "I carried you."
"But how did...?"
"I huffed and I puffed and I blew the door in," Sara said
with a grin.
"Like the big bad wolf," Annie smiled contentedly. Then she
closed her eyes and slipped back into sleep.
***
"Really, how did we get in?" Annie asked, dried tears on her
cheeks.
"The door was open," Sara said, "It wasn't locked."
"I feel so strange and spinny," Annie said.
"You've had a bad bump," Sara said.
"I feel cold," Annie said. "Could you put some covers on?"
"You have a fever," Sara said. "Your skin is hot."
"It is?" Annie asked.
"And you have some cuts," Sara said. "I'm a little worried
about infection."
"Cuts where?" Annie asked. "I can't feel them."
"On the palm of your right hand. On your right shin. On your
left breast."
"I feel cold, Sara. I can't move. How come I can't move?"
"It might be the shock," Sara told the girl. "Can you feel
anything?"
"I feel cold," Annie said. "Cold and afraid. I'm going to
die, aren't I?"
"Can you feel my hand on your forehead?"
"Yes, it feels good. It feels nice and warm."
"Can you feel my hand now?"
"I think so."
"Where do you feel it?"
"My toes, Sara. My toes and my cunny-place."
"But I'm not touching your cunny, Annie. Just your big toes.
I'm just squeezing your big toes."
"Oh. It feels like you're touching my cunny, too."
"You have a fever, Annie. You're burning."
"I feel cold. So cold. I'm going to die soon, aren't I?"
"It's just the fever, Annie, the fever and the shock."
"Maybe you should take me to a hospital, then. Wouldn't that
be a good idea?"
"I don't want to move you, Annie. I'm afraid I've moved you
too much already."
"Could you do something," Annie whispered. "Could you touch
my toes some more?"
"I can do that," Sara said. "But first I want to do
something about those cuts."
"What are you going to do?"
"There's something that might work," Sara said.
"I'm cold," Annie said. "Are you sure you can't cover me?"
"Ok," Sara said. "But first I'm going to fix your cuts. I'm
going to pee on your cuts, and the pee will kill the germs
and make you better. Is it ok if I do that?"
"Kill the germs..." Annie repeated.
"I'm going to start with the one on your shin," Sara said.
She straddled Annie's leg. She moved herself over Annie's
shin and opened herself and pressed herself against Annie's
leg.
"I hope I can stop once I start," Sara said. Then the pee
gurgled out, a handful of grasshoppers whispering at the
side of a dusty road.
"There," Sara said. "How was that?"
"It tickles," Annie said.
"Does it burn?" Sara asked.
"No, it just tickles and tingles," Annie said.
"That means it's killing the germs," Sara said. "You'll
see." Sara took Annie's hand and moved it between her legs;
she cradled Annie's hand from underneath, pressed the girl's
small palm until it was snug against her center. "It tickles
me, too," Sara said, the pee coming.
"It feels like grass growing," Annie said.
"Yes," Sara said. "I hope I haven't used it all up." She
settled herself astride Annie's chest, maneuvered above the
little breast. "Your nipples are so sweet and small," Sara
said as she peed. "Does it feel like grass growing."
"More like pretty butterflies," Annie said. "Little yellow
ones fluttering toward the sun."
"I'm empty now," Sara said. "I've used it all up. I hope it
was enough."
Annie was asleep.
***
"Did you dream?" Sara asked.
"Mm," Annie said. "I dreamed you touched my cunny-place.
Did you do that? It felt real."
"I just touched your toes," Sara said. "I played with your
little piggies."
"My little piggies," Annie said, almost happily.
"Nice little piggies," Sara said. "So pudgy and sweet. I
wouldn't mind sucking on them, eating them all up."
"Nice little piggies," Annie sighed.
"Are you still cold?" Sara asked.
"Was I cold?" Annie asked.
"You said you were."
"I feel warm now."
"That's a good sign," Sara said. "Maybe your fever's about
to break."
"About to break," Annie said.
Overhead, sunbeams strolled across the room.
"I saw us in here," Annie said. "When I was up there."
"What did you see?" Sara asked.
"We were flower-falls."
***
"Am I alive?" Annie asked.
"Yes," Sara said. "You're still alive."
"But it won't be long now, will it?"
"Before what?
"Before I'm dead."
"You're alive now," Sara said.
"How come I still can't move?" Annie asked.
"Maybe it's the shock," Sara said.
"The peeing didn't help then?" Annie said.
"That was for the fever," Sara said. "The shock might take
time to wear off. Or maybe something else."
"What?"
"Something more drastic. Another shock maybe." Sara took her
shoulder bag and set it on Annie's belly. "You know what's
in here?" she asked.
"My pennies?" Annie said.
"You know what else?"
"No," Annie said. "I don't know."
Sara slowly worked the zipper.
"What a nice noise it makes, opening so slow like that."
"Pennies," Annie said.
"No, not pennies," Sara said.
"Panties?"
"No, not panties, either."
"Butterflies!" Annie said.
"You know!" Sara said.
"Grasshoppers in the grass."
"You know! Tell me and I'll stop."
"Pennies!"
Sara stopped the zipper and set the bag beside the bed. She
gathered herself over Annie's body, placed herself where the
purse was, leaned forward, and stared directly into Annie's
wide eyes. "I should slap you silly," she said.
"That fat cold gun," Annie said.
Sara leaned forward the last inch and took Annie's tongue
into her mouth. She sucked it greedily.
"How come your tongue is so hot?" Annie asked.
"The butter to melt you with," Sara said. "God, I must be
catching your fever."
"My piggies," Annie said. "So pudgy and sweet."
"Not to mention your cute little cunny-slit."
"Shh," Annie whispered, "Bad word."
"Cunny slit?"
"Cunny slit."
Sara sat up, swiveled around. "Such a sweet cunny-slit," she
said, "So shy and soft." She leaned forward until her chin
rested in the bed of red hair. "I'm going to cure you now,"
she said. "I'm going to make you all butter."
"All butter," Annie repeated and Sara spread the girl's
thighs as wide as they would go.
"Why what a fine fat clit you have," Sara said. "Strange...
with your nipples so tiny." And then she fastened her lips
firmly around the fine fat clit, and sucked it with all her
might."
"Oh," Annie said. "No. Oh oh oh."
Sara parted the girl's sex lips with her fingers and pushed
her hot tongue into the hole.
"Please," Annie said, "Please no. Oh please, oh oh oh."
Sara rubbed and rustled her chin against Annie's clit while
flicking and fucking her tongue far into the slim passage,
sluicing hymns of juice and froth and spit against the thin
mucous membrane.
"Oh please, oh oh oh!"
The girl's cunt quivered as Sara nipped and nudged, pushing
and working the way wide.
"I can't, oh God, I can't, oh, God. I Oh oh ooooohhhhhhhhh!"
In one sanguineous gulp, Sara devoured the girl's virginity.
As afternoon eased into dusk, Annie's moans became more
muffled; Sara's tongue, relentless, teased the cunt's
elusive gasps, pushed ever deeper, stretching inward, trying
to tempt that one last conclusive convulsion, to bring about
that final soft sigh, and then the everlasting peace and
quiet.
"You FUCKING DYKE BITCH!"
Sara's body hurtled against the wall. Bard's boot cracked
her spine, ripped into her belly, rocked between her legs.
A fury of kicks rattled her ribs, and when she tried to
turn, his toe knocked her numb. And then he was about to
kick her head off--she saw it coming but couldn't for the
life of her move... the big black manboot was inches from
her eye when the gudgeoning bullet struck his brain, dead
center, and spun him down, nothing but a coarse stain on a
pinewood floor.
In bed Sara whimpered as Annie eased her tongue across the
heavy bruises. "Sweet sweet Sara," she crooned and she
bathed the broken skin, made it minute by minute better.
Hours later Annie and Sara were quietly nuzzling each other
when sleep finally eased into them.
They woke to first light, stretching, frisky.
"I shore am hungry," Annie said, a sly smile creeping across
her face.
"Hm," Sara said, contemplatively eyeing the carcass on the
cabin floor, "Man-flesh makes good eating if it ain't over-
cooked." Giggling gaily then, the girls embraced, and then
they gorged themselves, shamelessly feasting on all manner
of flesh and feeling.
END
=====
Note: This story was inspired by Sarah Fox Jahn's
delightful version of Little Red Riding Hood. Comments welcome!
--M. M. Twassel
=====================
The Better To ...
by M M Twassel
-30-
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