Serial Rapist
You take care of the garbage.
You have long since forgotten the girl's name. It started with an "m" or a "t" you think. You want to say its two syllables. You kick yourself mentally. How do you lay a girl when you don't even remember her name?
You start the walk to her house. She only lives a couple blocks away. As you travel, your feet smack rhythmically the pavement and you get a hardon thinking about the smacking sound your balls will make as you thrust into her. Doggie style? Eck, her ass is flat. Whatever, you'll figure it out.
Maybe she's a nymphomaniac or something and she'll demand some bizarre position which rubs her exactly the right way. Mmm, the idea evokes a smile.
You hit her street and really quickly spot her house. You take one step on her driveway, get an idea and retreat. The flag was up on the mailbox, maybe she has some mail.
Spam. Spam. More spam. College spam. Furniture spam and makeup spam. The newspaper. Bills. Aha! College acceptance letter addressed to "Tessa S. Young."
You stuff the mail back into the mailbox, imagining Tessa's tight pussy and imagine yourself shoving your cock inside it. You imagine she's snug and very wet and that as you enter her she moans with half-pleasure-half-pain. Your skin flushes as you imagine her labia firmly squeezing your penis, so tightly that the friction pulls her skin each time you change your thrusting direction.
Huft! You let a gust of air out and reach into your pants quickly to readjust your member (which had begun painfully pressing into your pants fabric - a little surprising since you had just beaten off).
You waddle to the front door and wait in front of it for a couple minutes to calm your erection. Your shoulders tighten and your swallow hard. This is it.
You hit the doorbell and then hear footsteps crescendo toward you.
The door opens a small amount. A woman pops her head out. "Oh, hey James! How's your summer been?!"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Working the mail route and whatnot. Trying to get money for Senior year."
She smiles, wrinkles slightly visible, "Hey that's great! And how's is your family?"
"Ummm, they're okay I guess. I don't know." You shrug, "My Dad's working the summer but my mom thought she'd take a break..."
"Oh, good for her, good for her! She deserves it! God bless her. What colleges have you applied to?"
She keeps asking you questions and listening to your answers in a patient way, but she never really talks about anything at all. Soon she runs out of things to ask, which prompts silence.
*Hrm!* you clear your throat, "Mrs. Young, I was wondering if Tessa was in and maybe wanted to hang out today."
Mrs. Young's eyes widen and then she smiles, "I'll go tell her to come down right now. Thanks for getting her outside!"
You have long since forgotten the girl's name. It started with an "m" or a "t" you think. You want to say its two syllables. You kick yourself mentally. How do you lay a girl when you don't even remember her name?
You start the walk to her house. She only lives a couple blocks away. As you travel, your feet smack rhythmically the pavement and you get a hardon thinking about the smacking sound your balls will make as you thrust into her. Doggie style? Eck, her ass is flat. Whatever, you'll figure it out.
Maybe she's a nymphomaniac or something and she'll demand some bizarre position which rubs her exactly the right way. Mmm, the idea evokes a smile.
You hit her street and really quickly spot her house. You take one step on her driveway, get an idea and retreat. The flag was up on the mailbox, maybe she has some mail.
Spam. Spam. More spam. College spam. Furniture spam and makeup spam. The newspaper. Bills. Aha! College acceptance letter addressed to "Tessa S. Young."
You stuff the mail back into the mailbox, imagining Tessa's tight pussy and imagine yourself shoving your cock inside it. You imagine she's snug and very wet and that as you enter her she moans with half-pleasure-half-pain. Your skin flushes as you imagine her labia firmly squeezing your penis, so tightly that the friction pulls her skin each time you change your thrusting direction.
Huft! You let a gust of air out and reach into your pants quickly to readjust your member (which had begun painfully pressing into your pants fabric - a little surprising since you had just beaten off).
You waddle to the front door and wait in front of it for a couple minutes to calm your erection. Your shoulders tighten and your swallow hard. This is it.
You hit the doorbell and then hear footsteps crescendo toward you.
The door opens a small amount. A woman pops her head out. "Oh, hey James! How's your summer been?!"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Working the mail route and whatnot. Trying to get money for Senior year."
She smiles, wrinkles slightly visible, "Hey that's great! And how's is your family?"
"Ummm, they're okay I guess. I don't know." You shrug, "My Dad's working the summer but my mom thought she'd take a break..."
"Oh, good for her, good for her! She deserves it! God bless her. What colleges have you applied to?"
She keeps asking you questions and listening to your answers in a patient way, but she never really talks about anything at all. Soon she runs out of things to ask, which prompts silence.
*Hrm!* you clear your throat, "Mrs. Young, I was wondering if Tessa was in and maybe wanted to hang out today."
Mrs. Young's eyes widen and then she smiles, "I'll go tell her to come down right now. Thanks for getting her outside!"