Dark Desires

by Ray Gordon

  'Oh, yes,' she gasped. 'That's where I rub myself.' Her sex hormones had run wild during her teens, she reflected as the vicar took great delight in massaging her clitoris. She'd masturbated regularly, toyed with her inner lips, stroked her stiffening nipples, fingered the tight sheath of her vagina whenever the opportunity had arisen. At twenty-two, she was still incredibly sensual, craving sex as much as the next girl. But her teens had been her prime years.

  'Shall I lie on the desk?' she asked, her breathing fast and shallow. 'My legs are wobbly. I can't stand properly.'

  'Yes, yes,' the cleric replied eagerly, standing and moving some papers off the desk.

  'That's far more comfortable,' she said, sitting on the edge and reclining. 'You'll be more comfortable if you pull a chair up,' she enticed him, her naked buttocks over the edge of the desk, her thighs parted wide.

  'Now that is a good idea,' he replied, dragging a chair across the room. 'Now I'll be able to check you properly.'

  Samantha knew that he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to kiss the fleece-covered flesh of her mons, lick the creamy wet valley of her pussy. His fingertip massaging her clitoris, he parted the fleshy cushions of her outer quim lips with his free hand. He was gazing at the inner folds of her pussy, she knew, as her clitoris responded to his illicit massaging by transmitting ripples of pure sexual bliss throughout her trembling body. Her climax nearing, she gripped the sides of the desk, arching her back as the birth of her orgasm stirred deep within her rhythmically contracting womb.

  'It's coming,' she gasped, her head tossing from side to side, her legs twitching, as the vicar quickened his masturbating rhythm. His finger sliding deep into the tight canal of her vagina, massaging her inner flesh, he finally leaned forward and swept his wet tongue over the sensitive tip of her painfully hard clitoris. Sucking and mouthing on her pleasure spot, he drove a second finger deep into the drenched sheath of her convulsing pussy, pistoning her sex duct and sustaining her massive orgasm.

  Listening to the sound of her squelching juices of sex, Samantha whimpered in her incredible coming. Letting out a scream of delight as her climax peaked, gripping her naked body, she spread her thighs further. Again and again tremors of sex rocked her very soul, taking her to heights of ecstasy she'd never known before. Her teenage juices of desire streaming down between her pert buttocks, trickling over the ring of her anus, she gripped the sides of the desk harder as the vicar worked between her thighs. Her nostrils flaring, her stomach rising and falling jerkily, she felt the ripe nipples of her breasts harden as her pleasure rolled through her quivering body.

  Her orgasm finally beginning to recede, her clitoris retreating beneath its pinken bonnet, she lay gasping for breath as the vicar sucked the last ripples of pleasure out of her cumbud. Quivering uncontrollably on the desk, her naked body glowing in the aftermath of her forbidden climax, Samantha knew that the time was right for the unforgettable event. Lifting her head and gazing at the leering vicar as he slipped his cunny-wet fingers out of her sex duct, she licked her lips provocatively.

  'Why don't you rub your thing up and down my crack?' she asked huskily. 'Don't put it in me, just rub me with it.'

  'Yes, yes,' the vicar breathed excitedly, leaping to his feet and lifting his cassock. 'Have you ever seen a penis?' he asked, proudly displaying his solid cock to her staring blue eyes.

  'No, never,' she replied as he retracted his foreskin fully and exposed the purple head of his penis.

  'Rub the knob up and down my crack and make me have that feeling again.'

  Wasting no time, the vicar slipped his purple glans between the swollen pads of her girl-wet vaginal lips, breathing heavily as his knob glided up and down her creamy valley of desire. The silky-smooth head of his cock repeatedly sliding over the swelling nub of her ripening clitoris, Samantha knew that he'd pump out his spunk, the white liquid filling her gaping sex valley and running down between the firm cheeks of her buttocks. She'd hold back if she could, time her climax with his and heighten their forbidden pleasure.

  Would he be able to restrain himself? She asked herself the question as his gasps of male pleasure resounded around the office. Would he be happy enough to spunk her sex crack? Or would he drive his knob deep into the virgin sheath of her cunt and fuck her naked body? He knew she was a virgin. He hadn't hesitated to lick her clitoris, to finger the tight sheath of her chaste vagina. His male desires would surely get the better of him and he'd pump her cunt full of his creamy spunk. He was about to come she knew as he let out long low moans of pleasure. Her clitoris swelling, pulsating in the beginnings of her climax, Samantha lifted her head and watched the man of God fucking her drenched sex crack.

  'Yes,' he gasped, his sperm jetting from his knob-slit, filling the valley of her vulva and running down between the firm cheeks of her rounded buttocks. Her clitoris exploding in orgasm beneath his sweeping glans, she wondered why he'd not succumbed to his male needs and slipped his knob into the velvety sheath of her spasming cunt. Was he afraid? Her naked body shook violently as her orgasm gripped her very soul. Perhaps even a perverted vicar had some morals, some decency, about him.

  'Put it in me,' she cried, knowing that this would be a forbidden act that the man would never forget. 'Put your cock in me.' His throbbing glans suddenly driving deep into the virginal sheath of her cunt, tearing down her curtain of virginity, the priest grabbed her hips and fucked her naked body with a vengeance. Samantha could feel his spunk gushing into her, bathing her cervix and lubricating the illicit union. Her orgasmic juices mingling with his semen, squelching as he repeatedly thrust his throbbing glans deep into her convulsing body, she felt the outer lips of her pussy rolling back and forth along the sex-slimed shaft of his huge cock.

  The vicar had done it now, she mused, her clitoris massaged by his thrusting cock-shaft. He'd committed the forbidden act, used his position of trust as a so-called man of God to fuck a young parishioner to orgasm and flood her tight cunt with his spunk. As he slowed his pistoning rhythm, his cock beginning to deflate, Samantha lay on the desk gasping for breath as her own orgasm subsided. Trembling uncontrollably, she wondered whether he'd recall the forbidden act. If he did, then she could change history. If he had no recollection of fucking her senseless, then... then she wouldn't know what to think. Taking the notion to the extreme, she wondered what would happen if she became pregnant by the vicar. Her entire future would change, but that wasn't possible, was it?

  'I have to go,' Samantha sobbed, feigning tears as the cleric finally slipped his spent penis out of her abused vaginal sheath.

  'Are you all right?' he asked concernedly.

  'You shouldn't have done that,' she wailed. 'You... you fucked me and—'

  'You asked me to, Samantha. For God's sake, I hope you're not going to go telling people that I forced you to have sex?'

  'I... I have to go,' she stammered again, grabbing her clothes and fleeing from the office.

  Hiding behind a pew, Samantha concentrated her thoughts on the basement as sperm oozed between the inflamed lips of her pussy. Suddenly finding herself back in the armchair, dressed in her blouse and miniskirt, she let out a wicked chuckle. The vicar had to recall the forbidden fucking, she mused, wasting no time and thinking about visiting the man in the church. In her mind, she pictured herself at twenty-two years old, meeting the vicar after all those years. She wondered if he would make out that he remembered nothing of the event. If he lied, then...

  'Ah, vicar,' Samantha said, walking down the aisle towards the man.

  'Samantha,' he greeted her. 'It's lovely to see you. How are you?'

  'I'm fine. I was just passing and thought I'd call in. Do you remember when you had me on your desk?' she asked directly.

  'Had you on my desk?' he echoed.

  'Stripped me of my virginity.'

  'What are you talking about, Samantha?'

  'You fucked me in your office.'

  'I... I never did anything of the sort.'

  'You
took filthy photographs of me, didn't you?'

  'Filthy? Yes, I took photographs of you. But they were never—'

  'You don't remember having sex with me?'

  'Good grief, girl,' he gasped. 'I never did anything of the—'

  'Are you sure?'

  'Of course I'm sure. For goodness sake, I hope you're not going to tell...'

  'It's all right, I'm not going to say anything to anyone. What you did to me all those years ago was very wrong, and I can't say that I like you for the way you treated me; but...'

  'All I can do is apologize, Samantha,' he murmured, hanging his head. 'You were such a beautiful... you are such a beautiful girl. I... I just couldn't help myself. There was no harm done.'

  'And who are you taking advantage of now? You might as well own up because I know what's going on.'

  'She told you?' he gasped disbelievingly.

  'Yes, she did.'

  'Caroline is... She's—'

  'Too young for you, vicar. I'll be back to discuss this with you.'

  'Samantha, I...'

  'We'll talk about it later, vicar. I need to chat with Caroline first.'

  'Samantha, please...'

  Leaving the church, Samantha realized that she had to do something to put an end to the lecherous man's activities. She also realized that she couldn't change history. That put paid to her idea of resitting her exams to get better grades. If I knew then, she mused, deciding to return to the mansion and make an effort to escape from the basement. Finding herself in the armchair once again, she leaped to her feet as she heard someone trying the door handle.

  'Thank God,' she breathed as Gerry Andrews opened the door and trotted down the steps.

  'What are you doing here?' he asked her.

  'Waiting for you,' she replied, smiling as she climbed the steps.

  'But... how did you...?'

  'I'll be back,' she said, reaching the open door. 'I'll explain everything later.'

  Fleeing the mansion, Samantha climbed into her car and drove to her flat. Sitting in the lounge with a cup of coffee, she pondered on the recent events. Her visit to the mansion, the school, vicar's office, the café and wine bar... The whole episode now seemed like a strange dream. Travelling in time? She giggled inwardly. If that really was possible, the benefits would be amazing, she concluded. Recalling Zak and Angela kissing in the bar, she decided to try another trip in time. This wasn't going to work she was sure as she lay back on the sofa and closed her eyes. Time travel was only possible in the movies...

  'She didn't come home last night and there's been no word from her today,' Zak said, his voice coming from behind a door as Samantha found herself standing in Angela's hall. 'God only knows where the daft bitch has got to.'

  'Forget about her, Zak,' Angela giggled as Samantha crept up to the bedroom door and spied through the crack. 'I'm hungry again, and I want to eat your cock.'

  Staring in disbelief' at her best friend lying on her bed, gobbling on Zak's erect penis, Samantha knew that this wasn't a dream. Whatever power or force she'd tapped into, she was able to transport herself anywhere she wanted to go. Watching Angela licking the bulbous knob of Zak's cock, she felt her stomach churning, her hands trembling. If this was how her boyfriend behaved behind her back... Closing her eyes, she returned to her own lounge and grabbed the phone.

  'Angela, it's Sam,' she said as the girl answered the phone.

  'Oh, hi,' Angela trilled. 'Where have you been? Zak... He called earlier and said that you'd not been home all night.'

  'I had to sort something out to do with work. Is Zak there?'

  'Here? Er... why would he be here?'

  'On your bed with you, naked.'

  'What? Sam, I hope you're not suggesting that Zak and I are having—'

  'Oral sex? Yes, I am. My phone call interrupted you, didn't it? You were sucking his cock, Angela.'

  'I... but... where on earth did you get that idea?'

  'I was only joking, you daft bitch. As if you'd do that, for God's sake.'

  'Yes, er... that's right,' the girl said, forcing a laugh.

  'I'll call you later, OK?'

  'Yes, yes, that's fine. You and your jokes, Sam. For a minute I thought you were serious.'

  'Of course I wasn't. It would be funny if it was true, wouldn't it? OK, we'll talk later.'

  Replacing the receiver, Samantha wasn't sure whether she was actually transporting herself through time and space or whether she'd gone mad. Had something in the mansion influenced her? There's no such fucking thing as fucking ghosts, she mused, recalling Dave's words. But something had happened, she knew, as she slipped out of her clothes and stepped into the shower. Nothing happened without reason, she thought, shampooing her long blonde hair. There was a cause and a reason for everything. Although, for the life of her, she didn't know what reason there could possibly be for her to be able to travel through time.

  After her shower, she dressed in a short skirt and T-shirt. Ringing the office to tell Dave that she wasn't feeling well and was taking the day off, she breathed a sigh of relief to discover that he'd gone to London. Now that she had the day ahead to experiment with her new-found talent, she decided to return to her schooldays. There'd been one particular teacher whom she'd never forgotten. Mr Graham, the geography master, was a middle-aged man who took an interest in his female pupils. He might have been innocent, his intentions honourable, but he had the habit of putting his arm around the girls, his hand dangerously close to their pert breasts.

  Samantha had enjoyed geography and had always sat at the front of the class opposite Mr Graham's desk. One afternoon she'd noticed that her geography teacher was gazing beneath her desk, his dark eyes wide, his gaze obviously fixed on something. Looking down, she'd realized that her short skirt had ridden up her naked thighs. Mr Graham was a respected member of the community. On the board of school governors, he was in line for the post of headmaster. But, respectable as he was, he seemed to have a fascination with Samantha's school knickers...

  'And that is the peninsula,' the geography master said, gazing at his fresh-faced pupils. Looking down at her thighs beneath the desk, Samantha pulled her short skirt even further up and parted her legs. She remembered well how the man's gaze had repeatedly returned to her exposed flesh. But, this time, Samantha knew exactly why he was gazing beneath her desk with a strange glint in his eyes. She'd already established that she couldn't change history, but she could have some fun with her new talent.

  Gazing at the triangular patch of Samantha's white panties as he sat at his desk, his wide eyes staring hard, the teacher mumbled something about the class leaving the room quietly. As he gazed at her blatantly displayed panties, Samantha fiddled with her books until her fellow pupils had left the room. Feeling wicked, she waited until the teacher looked away momentarily before slipping her hand between her thighs and pulling the crotch of her panties to one side. Gazing beneath her desk again, his eyes bulging, the man obviously couldn't believe what he was seeing.

  'What do you think you're playing at?' he asked her, walking towards her desk.

  'Playing at?' she echoed, not expecting this sort of response as she cocked her head to one side. Frowning, Samantha played the innocent, her blue eyes reflecting naivety. 'I don't know what you mean, sir. I'm just putting my books away.'

  'Your knickers, girl,' he said sternly. 'You deliberately—'

  'My knickers?' she breathed. 'What about—?'

  'You know very well, Samantha,' he interrupted. 'Girls who behave like that are obviously asking for just one thing.'

  Deciding to see how far the man would go, Samantha knew that he wouldn't recall the episode. She'd be safe enough playing her wicked games. This was only a game, she thought, realizing the power of her body as the man gazed at her breasts billowing her blouse. But she wondered why she was playing sexual games. Was it because she found the thought of an adult mind in a teenage girl's body exciting? I know now what I didn't know then.

  'Unless you
want me to report your despicable behaviour to the headmaster, I suggest you lift your skirt up and take a look for yourself,' Mr Graham said.

  'Oh,' she gasped, standing and raising her short skirt. 'I'm sorry, sir. I had no idea that my knickers—'

  'Pull the front of your knickers down,' he ordered her sternly.

  'Pull them down?' she breathed incredulously, realizing he was taking the bait. 'But, sir...'

  'Unless you want to find yourself in a great deal of trouble, you'll pull your knickers down.'

  Complying with the teacher's request, Samantha feigned shock, gasping as he knelt in front of her. Lifting her skirt up over her stomach, she pulled her panties down her shapely thighs to her knees as Mr Graham gazed longingly at the tightly closed crack of her vulval flesh. His dark eyes bulging as he focused on the creamy-white stain in the crotch of her school knickers, he obviously couldn't control his base male instincts. But how far would he go, she wondered again, delighting in the illicit game. Would he touch her? Would he slip his finger between the pinken wings of her inner lips and explore the inner sheath of her pussy?

  'You've been misbehaving of late, Samantha,' he growled.

  'May I go now, sir?' she asked, jutting her hips forward a little.

  'Not until you admit to deliberately pulling your panties to one side.'

  'I had no idea, sir,' she breathed, her long blonde hair veiling her angelic face as she hung her head. 'I was just sitting at my desk...'

  'You wanted to show me, didn't you?'

  'Show you, sir?'

  'Your crack, Samantha. You wanted to show me your crack. Go to the back of the classroom and bend over the computer desk.'

  Again warning her that she'd be in serious trouble unless she did exactly as he said, he followed her to the back of the room. This might not have been what had happened all those years ago, Samantha reflected, tugging her panties up as she walked. But it was exactly what the man would have liked to have happened. Leaning over the desk in the corner of the room, Samantha knew that they couldn't be seen behind the bookshelves. As Mr Graham lifted her skirt up and pulled her panties back down around her knees, she wondered what he was going to do. The fleshy swell of her vaginal lips was protruding between her slender thighs she knew as he hovered behind her. Would he touch her there?