The Naked Goth Girl: The Complete Series

by E Ashford

  She slept lightly, unaware that it had even happened, and awoke half an hour later feeling sluggish and content. Still he lay beside her, making no move, and saying nothing. She could feel her pussy wet and sticky, the juices of her own vagina and his saliva coating the insides of her thighs. And instead of shame, she felt only a ravenous kind of emptiness, a need for more.

  Without getting up, she slithered her body so that she was closer to him, snuggling up to his warmth, invited or not. She lay her head on his naked chest and ran her fingers through the hair there. His stomach was flat and hard, and it quivered slightly as she moved her hand down. There was no hesitation in her movements. While a piece of the back of her mind continued to wonder how her body could be so bold, her hands seemed to take over. When she reached the top of his jeans, she’d lost all measure of caution and patience.

  She had given blowjobs before, almost out of spite of her step-father’s rules, but always before there had been a slow build-up, a fumbling, stumbling movement of her hands, almost like spiders, over the boy’s stomach. Usually she would move her flattened hand under his belt so that her wrist rested under the buckle while her fingers tentatively inched closer to the cock. Only after some shy hand work did the boy -- usually with all his pent-up sexuality behind it -- undo the belt, jerk down his pants and present his cock for her mouth.

  This time was different. So different. Reaching down confidently, she unsnapped his pants herself and unzipped them. Then, hardly waiting for his help, she grabbed the sides of his jeans and began yanking them down his hips together with his underwear. Beneath them, his cock lay in the shaft of sunlight, a lump covered by yet more dark hair. He was soft, and without even using her hands, she bent over and took all of him in her mouth at once, penis, balls, all of him. She held him there then, her tongue working over all the softness, feeling the grit of his hair. Slowly she could feel too the blood begin to pour into him, the head and then the shaft beginning to stiffen until she could hold only the head in her mouth.

  Grabbing the shaft with both hands, she moved her mouth from him, using her tongue to lick up and down the underside of the head, over the top, her tongue flicking into the strange opening at the top. Keeping her left hand firmly on the shaft, she moved her right so that it gently cupped his balls, while her mouth again settled on the head of him and tried to swallow as much as it could. She could work herself to the point where her lips encircled the midway point of his shaft, feeling the head against the back of her throat. She gagged slightly, but held on to him with her hand urging him to stay put while her throat adjusted.

  She moved her mouth then to his balls, licking and sucking, her tongue flicking just under them. She swirled his hair with her tongue, and allowed her saliva to coat him in a glistening wet sheen. She moved back so she could look at his penis then, as her hands continued to move up and down, working him. It was an amazing sight, her own small, black-nail-polished short nailed fingers working over this enormous thing, its blue veins standing out, its purple head engorged. She saw then a tiny bead of moisture seep out of the head and sit there on the tip. Bending down again, she took the pre-come gently on her tongue, then rubbed it against the roof of her mouth so that the salty taste was smashed flat against her taste buds.

  She knew what this meant, and in a flash she had moved again, this time positioning her hips directly over his groin, only with her face towards his bare feet. She bent at the waist, with her face almost touching his knees. With her right hand, she reached beneath her to the penis, slimy from her own mouth and positioned the head of it at the entrance to her pussy. With one sharp intake of breath she sat up then, driving his cock into her. It slid smoothly past her lips until it met with the resistance of her hymen. Pushing back even harder, she felt him slip all the way into her, felt the shaft against the walls of her, his balls against the lips of her.

  She sat for a moment, looking out the screen of the tent into the sun-draped trees, just feeling him inside her. And then she began to rock slowly back and forth, working her hips up and down. Her skirt still covered the place where their bodies came together, making of this a secret encounter, a private moment shared between two strangers.

  She knew, though, that her ass must be visible to him just peeking out from beneath the hem of her skirt, and she moved her hips, thrusting on to him so he could see. At the same time, she reached her right hand down, below her legs, to find the soft sack of his balls. She held them, almost using the base of him to push inside her as though he were a dildo.

  Behind her, she felt his hand slowly move up to the hem of her skirt, and then beneath. There was a moment of pride within her that she had at last stirred some kind of physical movement, some desire within him. She felt his hand on her ass and she moved more rapidly, feeling her own passion beginning to build once again. And then she felt his finger, pushing against her asshole. He was gentle, allowing her to push back against it at her own pace, and little by little, with each rocking motion she could feel not only the length of his cock within her, but the length of his index finger insider her ass.

  His fingertip was pointed down, and as she continued to fuck, she could feel his finger and cock pressing against each other between the walls of her pussy. She realized with a start that he was stroking himself inside her. This was far too much and she began to come again, in waves this time, waves that seemed never-ending. Her pussy clenched tight on his penis and she screamed out yet again, a part of her hoping her whole family somewhere could hear her, could know exactly what kind of ecstasy she’d found far from them. And then he was shooting inside of her, a hot wad of come, while the head of his cock seemed to pulse to double its size. It filled her so completely, every part of her inside seeming to be touched, and she screamed yet again, and bucked wildly, no longer with any sort of rhythm, but simply as her nerve endings and reflexes demanded.

  It was dark when she left the tent. He lay there still, asleep again, his breathing regular. She zipped up the tent smoothed her hair with a distracted hand, and headed back in the direction she thought she’d come in.

  Part 2: The Naked Goth Girl Goes Swimming

  It was approaching midnight when Lisa finally stumbled wearily back into her own campsite, still thinking of the stranger she’d met that afternoon. She’d been bold in a way she didn’t know she could, but being gone from her family’s campsite for so long had been even bolder.

  She thought at first that everyone else had gone to bed. Sitting before the fire, though, she saw the lone figure of her step-father, staring into the fire almost as though hypnotized. As she could easily have predicted, he was furious, and as he heard her step behind him, he turned and looked coldly at her. He was never one to scream at his children, but his white hot anger was obvious nonetheless.

  “Where have you been?” he asked evenly.

  “Nowhere,” she answered simply, tilting her head defiantly.

  “You little bitch. If you ever disappear like that again, you can just keep walking.”

  “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

  Silence. For a moment, Lisa thought he might come at her. She hadn’t been hit since she was four and been spanked for breaking free from her parents in a crowded parking lot and nearly being run over by a minivan. But his hands gripped his chair as though he was about to spring up.

  And then he relaxed. “That will be the last time you talk back to me, Lisa. You play whatever game you want to, but remember, I’m in charge of this family. I’m in charge of you. And if you decide to willfully disobey me, or even talk back to me again, even God won’t be able to protect you from a punishment you cannot even conceive.”

  Lisa moved to speak again, but her father cut her off: “Consider carefully what you’re about to say. I mean what I’ve said.” Her eyes raged, but she shut her mouth, her protests swallowed. “Now go to bed. And when I see you in the morning, I expect you to be a positive, useful member of this family.” And with that, he turned back to stare at the fire, l
eaving her to stalk to the tent she shared with her younger sister Kelli.

  The next morning was pure hell for Lisa. Her father said nothing about what had happened the night before, but the way he suggested she help her mother prepare breakfast the next morning made it clear that what he had said had not changed. She knew that she would be expected to toe the line precisely, and though it made her almost physically ill, she saw no other choice. She had dutifully gone out looking for kindling for the evening’s fire, washed the breakfast dishes, and swept the tent openings clean. She’d even “volunteered” to accompany her sister when she went down to the bath house to go to the bathroom, which she knew only encouraged the goody-goody girl to idolize her all the more and would eventually lead to her being pestered to death.

  So when Jake began asking their parents after lunch if he could go down to the lake to swim, and her father looked up from the novel he was reading and made eye contact with Lisa, she immediately suggested brightly, “Why don’t I go too?” Her father went back to reading, and Lisa headed to her tent to change into her bathing suit.

  *****

  Lisa felt ridiculous in her bathing suit and flip flops, though there was no one at any of the campsites they passed to see her. Her own choice would have been a bikini, a little black number she had tried on at the mall back in the spring, something that would have highlighted her pale goth skin and matched her black hair. Her mother, though, had flatly said no, acting offended that Lisa had even bothered to try on the outfit. Instead, she had forced onto her daughter a one piece teal and beige suit with spaghetti straps and no chance of showing the slightest cleavage.

  Jake walked beside her. His own suit was no fashion statement, just a plain khaki colored pair of longish shorts, but his lanky teen body, still stringy and un-muscular, seemed to make perfect sense in it. Like most boys, bathing suits were more an afterthought to him, something to wear that would allow him to explore the universe or hunt deer or whatever else male brains decided to make them do.

  “Where did you go yesterday, anyway?” Jake finally asked, looking at her oddly as they continued to walk.

  Lisa remained silent, but there was really no need to respond. Like the dork he was, he continued with his own running commentary. “Dad was so pissed. He screamed for over an hour about you. I think the only thing that finally calmed him down was chopping wood. He must have chopped enough firewood for the rest of the week. We all stayed out of his way. Did you go off on purpose? I mean, geez, it’s just a cellphone. You didn’t have to start World War III. What did he say to you last night? Was he pissed? I tried to stay up to hear, but I fell asleep. Did he say anything this morning? Is that why you’ve been doing chores?”

  Just a cellphone, she thought to herself. It wasn’t even worth explaining to a guy like him. He couldn’t grasp the importance of social contact with the outside world. He could never understand that, as she saw it, you couldn’t really be a human without that sort of contact. No amount of explanation would make him see that what their father had done yesterday had denied her this basic human right. Instead, she just continued to walk on, listening to his inane chatter.

  The “lake” was more a pond really. Even so, had there been many campers around Lisa was sure that the banks would have been crowded with kids of all ages splashing and diving. And, for all she knew, someone might wander up. She’d seen a couple of RVs roll by during the morning, and though they had not parked near her own family’s camp, they had to have parked somewhere close by. In a way, she sort of hoped that might be the case: if some other brainless boy happened by she wouldn’t have to entertain Jake.

  She stood on the bank and watched as he dove aggressively into the water, kicking to the lake’s bottom before resurfacing. When at last he did, she was staring at him wordlessly. He looked back at his step-sister as he tread water and blew spray off the hair that dangled in his face. Lisa’s face held a strange muted expression. He called to her, “Come on. Don’t just stand there. Get in. It’s really not cold.”

  True, there was no one here to entertain him, but she’d suddenly had a wicked idea of how she might make the excursion interesting for both of them. Looking him dead in the eye, she stepped lightly out of her flip flops, her bare feet now on the dewy grass, her toes feeling the individual blades between them. She curled her toes into the earth a bit and felt a kind of release, from the tightness in her muscles, from the rules and regulations in her head. The ground was wet enough that her feet sunk a bit into the mud, but she had no care for that. She actually kind of enjoyed it.

  Jake continued to watch her, waiting for her to dive in with him. Instead, she did something very different. Her right hand moved to the left strap of her suit, her left hand to the right strap. She pulled one after the other down over her arms, and past her hands. The straps free, she rolled the top of the suit neatly down over her body, slid it down her thighs, and stepped completely out of it. She stood there on the beach, naked, as her step-brother watched with open mouth. She supposed she was also quite naked to anyone else who might be watching, standing right behind her for instance and getting a nice long look at her tight ass.

  However, she really had no interest in who might be seeing her, with two exceptions. First, she wanted Jake to see her, to know what his step-sister’s body really looked like. They were brother and sister, after all, she considered. Well, as good as. What was all the pretense? Their parents had married when the kids were still young. They’d bathed together as children. They lived under the same roof, sat on the same toilet, drank from the same glasses. So she stood there, looking at him as he continued to tread water. Then she walked to the edge of the bank, reached out a toe to test the water and sauntered in. She ignored Jake for a while, and instead simply swam about in circles, or lay on her back and floated. The second person for whom she performed was a hidden presence. She had no way of knowing if the biker stranger from yesterday would be around, or happen by the lake, but she fantasized he was there, just behind that tree, watching her every move.

  Having seen his sister strip down and dive in, Jake was perplexed, and he continued to swim in tight circles near the bank, apparently thinking over what he had seen. After some time, though, he climbed up the bank, dripping water behind him, shoved his own trunks down to his ankles and stepped out of them. Apparently a little shy in the bright light of the day, he ran quickly back into the water, but both brother and sister now swam nude around the lake. All Jake could really do, though, once he was in, was giggle like a school girl at the situation they’d braved, their “daring and courage.” He hooted and hollered and laughed to himself as Lisa continued to float slowly around the pond. For him it was only a game, a schoolboy joke. After thirty minutes of this, Lisa headed back to shore, climbed up on bank, and sat cross-legged on the grass allowing the sun’s rays to dry her. He needed to be shocked a bit more, she thought to herself.

  Jake continued to do back flips, deep dives, and generally splash all four corners of the lake, but she only watched him as he did all these things. When eventually he came back to the bank himself, she was now dry, while he was dripping. He plopped down in front of her: “What now, sis?”

  In answer to this question, Lisa looked him straight in the eye. She took one breast in each hand, cupped them from beneath and slid her hands up over them, ending by taking each nipple between her thumb and forefinger and pinching lightly. She could tell that his eyes were fixated on the trail her hands traversed. The thought crossed through her mind, “boys are too simple,” but rather than convince her she was wasting her time with him, the thought made her all the more determined to continue. There was a kind of power to be had in the ease with which she captivated his attention, and it was a power she enjoyed.

  Jake sat fascinated on the ground. His cock, initially shriveled by the chill of the water, was now becoming – little by little – rock hard, until it stood at attention, a paltry four inches – cute almost. He watched as she moved her hands slowly over h
er body, but without touching himself. Every few seconds, he would look up from her hands to her face, and his eyes would flash with embarrassment, almost as though he had forgotten he was not alone.

  His own body was tense and almost shaking as her hands ran down her stomach, smoothly over her hips, and then her right hand drifted to her pussy. Using two fingers, she spread the lips, teased over them, finishing off by circling her clit. She closed her eyes then, breaking their gaze, and moved her two fingers again down between her labia and slowly into her hole. She rocked back gently, her knees bent, so she could move the fingers up inside herself and so that he could clearly watch her as she did. She was already incredibly wet, her lips glistening, but as she moved her fingers in and out she brought with them trails of moisture, sticky and warm.

  She lay this way for two minutes, masturbating in front of him. Then she leaned up, sitting Indian fashion again and only a foot from where he sat. Reaching down to the ground, she took his hand and held it. Their fingers intertwined and she gave him a reassuring squeeze of confidence. Then, his palm in hers, she moved his hand to the base of her neck, down between her breasts and then beneath one so that he held it in his hand, felt its weight, kneaded it slowly in his palm. Still holding his hand in hers, she took him down the same path her own hands had traced minutes before, over her stomach and down between her legs. Separating out two of his fingers, she covered them with her own and moved them down between her slit to her pussy. She hooked them just so and guided them in, all four fingers now – his and hers – inside of her. She showed him silently how to use them, how to slide them together sometimes, like a single instrument, but at other times to stretch one towards the back of her vagina while the other curled up to the roof and pressed against her g-spot. She taught him to keep a slow even rhythm as he did all of this, to be gentle but firm. Then she lay back, her knees flexed and her feet set wide apart, giving him easy access to touch her cunt and a great view while he did so. He shifted to a point where he could do both easily, and his fingers went gently back to work, sometimes following the pattern she had set and sometimes experimenting with little pinches and pressures. Lisa closed her own eyes and moved her fingers down to her clit. She touched it lightly at first, teasing it, but gradually more and more firmly until she was almost mashing it down. She could sometimes feel Jake’s fingers pressing on the g-spot that lay below her clit, as though they were working the same ends of a single organ.