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sample forced public nudity "forcedpublicnudity" story: "
He lowered his head onto his pillow, and with one hand I
pushed him easily so he rolled from his side to his back and me
on my tummy, I put my chin on his chest, and listened to him try
to explain everything that I didn't understand and still didn't,
even when he was finished, because my fingers were playing in the
thick, stuck hairs at the base of him, big and hard, and I asked
him if I could hold him, and he said I could, and he was alive
with the beating of a heart that belonged only to him, but that I
knew with my hand and could feel in my heart pounding like his
when I held on tighter and wouldn't let go.
He pulled me up to lay on his chest, my legs on his legs,
stronger and longer as my whole world went higher and lower with
his breathing, I made myself heavy to push on him each time
harder there where the thick length of him lay between his hard
belly and me there where I wanted the pushing pressing harder
with moanings coming from within me from nowhere and him saying
"SHHHHHH" while I felt his powerful open hands, fingers clutching
each smallness that were my butt-cheeks going up and down with my
thrusting harder down helped with his pushing up to feel him
better, pressing with my fingers firm hold on either side of his
hair buried deep and hanging on to keep from falling off and to
pull myself higher because I felt his chest suddenly three times
bigger and both bodies hard like a rider and a wild horse
screaming down that sudden steep sloop of the bursting forth
waterfall over the thunder and full-power out of his throbbing
wet shootings up between us pressed tight and held by his arms of
his raging sea, like a small tiny boat that was crashed by huge
breakers onto the shore and now slowly carried back to that vast
smooth stillness in his open hands and the sea of his chest and
mine now going level and softer, stuck together and made into one
with his violent offering, thick with the same whiteness that
lasts as the bond between our bellies now soft with release, his
hands falling from my cheeks and my fingers releasing the hair
around his ears, that hear me saying, without me speaking, that I
will love him forever.
"We must wash ourselves."
"Will you carry me?"
"If you promise to keep your hands to yourself and let me
watch while I wash you."
"Okay, and I will wash you."
Him standing up in the big bath tub and me with my legs
inside and my cheeks on the rim, holding him, soaping him thick,
my fingers love it, and so does he, uplifting and defying gravity
the soap makes him smoother than slippery, and that feels even
better when he is bigger. The grin on his face and his flagpole
at full-stiff attention and just standing there defiant and
loaded with soap. As he bends to his knees and with mine apart,
he with a small towel warm with soft water, brushes and cleans
that small narrow, tender, the response of his touching worship,
all with all loving, and all remembered forever!
Forgive me for getting so flowery. Just remembering it
brings me such warm pleasure, and my mind goes all ga-ga. I
can't write about that afternoon any other way.
So, at 12, I became Reverend Dale's mistress. Neither he
nor I could wait very long to try and see if I was "big enough."
I was.
My time spent with him, in that old house, was time spent
naked and touching, and licking and probing, sucking and kissing,
and loving. He was amazing the way he could get hard, time after
time. And, he said I was amazing because I was always ready and
anxious.
I grew -- 13, 14, 15, 16, 17 -- and I stayed his mistress.
Young women at church wondered why no one was "turning his head."
Marrying a minister was a challenge, and Reverend Dale seemed to
make it an impossible task...continue -> rape paysites |
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