She had no idea how much further she had to explore, the pole seemed to feel the same with each exploratory inch, but it was far harder than she had imagined and it felt healthy, alive to her touch. She knew however that she must be getting towards the top as his movements were beginning to get more animated. His hand ran up her arm and pushed her t-shirt higher, revealing her left breast and the bruise. He groaned as her palm grazed the big bulb at the tip of his cock and ran along the ridges underneath where the foreskin bunched up. She sensed the shape with her hand and tried to confirm what she could feel with pictures that she had studied but decided that she needed to see it in all its glory. She shifted, sliding up off his lap and curling up next to him as before, her legs tucked in under her buttocks. With her head on his chest she tugged at the button of his shorts and wriggled a little as he tried, half-heartedly, to resist.
The button flicked open and she pulled the zip down slowly, smiling when the red bulb of his cock poked through the gap almost immediately. She stopped and stared, reaching out to carefully touch it, move it around a little and test its rigidity. She felt his hands exploring again, more fervent in their touch, grabbing her skin, pulling at her t-shirt. She leaned up and he caught the invitation, pulling at the hem and guiding it over her head. Topless, she leaned back down and brought the zip down as far as it would go, revealing his whole penis and the big, hairless balls underneath. It bobbed back and forth of its own accord and seemed to pulse with his heartbeat while she cupped his balls in the palm of her hand. He was groaning now, moving slowly on the sofa, encouraging her to touch him. He slipped his hand round her side, thankfully missing the bruise and over her breast. She heard him gasp at the touch and his fingers kneaded the small mound as she once again touched his stiffness.
“Hol, I’m close!”
She looked up with a huge smile on her face and kissed his lips. She sensed his pleasure, felt his arousal and was delighted as he kissed her back, his tongue invading her mouth in exploration. She held his cock gently in her hand, making small movements up and down towards the top of his shaft. As they kissed he grabbed her breast and toyed with it, tweaking her nipple, feeling the firmness of her youth. His hand travelled south, over her back and into her knickers, grabbing her buttocks with his right hand. His middle finger slid between her little globes towards her asshole and pussy. She grunted, shifted, signaling that she didn’t want him any closer. With a little deviation on the way, his hand slowly found its way to her breast again and he slid lower on the sofa, pulling her back to his lips.
“Hol!”
“Daddy, you’re so hard and hot.”
She let go of his cock and touched the insides of his thighs with delicate strokes of one or two fingers. His cock continued to bulge, pulse on its own and she watched with delight as it bobbed whenever her fingers approached as though in anticipation. She noted how the loose skin of his balls had had gone and they seemed to have shrunk and moved up into his body. She could feel tiny hairs on his balls but couldn’t see them even as she pulled the skin in exploration. She ran a finger around the head of his cock and he groaned loudly in her ear. Her nipples were hard now and she was thrilled when he touched them, caressing their whole shape in his warm hand, rubbing the nipples with his thumb in a slow, sensuous way. She knew she was wet and felt her arousal as she shifted carefully on the sofa. Taking him now with two fingers, she ran up and down the whole length of his cock, watching as it bulged each time and as his breathing seemed to be controlled by the movement of her fingers. A little fluid emerged from the slit in the top of his cock and she wiped it around the head with her thumb before stroking him again and combining the movement with a caress of his balls now and then. He seemed to be frozen in place, unable to move, totally controlled by her two fingers. Just anticipation and breathing were left for him to do and she added a third finger and toyed a little more with the angry red bulb of his cock. His fingers gripped her shoulder and head now, not painfully but clearly making it difficult for her to go anywhere else. But she was devoted to this task and moved down to take the top of him in her mouth. He groaned and gripped her even harder, suggesting that it wasn’t necessary to do any more other than continue to stroke him gently and regularly. Leaning up she smiled at his tortured, expectant face.
“Come for me Daddy” she whispered into his ear.
“Kiss me Hol!” he said, grabbing the back of her head.
He trembled in her grasp, clutched her close and mashed his lips against hers as the point of no return was passed in an instant. His buttocks rose off the sofa but Holly kept her hand on him, gently stroking him with two or three fingers, slowly up and down as he shook more violently. He shouted out as his face screwed up, clutched her hair and pulled her to him as he exhaled and came as though totally out of control. Her heart beat wildly, hoping with all her heart that it felt good for him. The first string of come sailed over them both, hitting the back of the sofa, while the second hit Holly across the nose. She squealed but he kept coming in great ropes of thick liquid, pent up from five days of abstinence and stimulated by this young, beautiful girl. With each streak of come he groaned as though being attacked by a wild animal and kept exhaling loudly even as the streaks turned to little spurts which flowed over her fingers and down onto his balls. He relaxed slowly, gasping as he sank back onto the sofa and pulled her close once again, resting his cheek on her head, kissing her come-streaked face.
She continued to stroke his cock, the dribbles of his ejaculate trailing down the side and in between her fingers. It was slippery, pleasant to touch, a friendly feel to it. She watched as the foreskin wrapped around the head, then slipped away as she stroked downwards. It fascinated her and she toyed with it for several minutes while he held her tight and breathed heavily. The come had stopped leaking from the tip and so, assuming that it was safe, she leaned down and kissed the top of his cock, grinning as the stickiness met her lips and he gasped out loud.
“Oh jesus Hol!”
“Daddy, that was so cool!” she said sweetly, kissing him again and licking a little of the white stickiness off his length.
He laughed and breathed in heavily. “Oh baby, that went everywhere, sorry.”
“Daddy, it’s what we both wanted, wasn’t it?”
He stroked her hair, encouraging her to lean up. “Yeah, I think it was.”
She slid her leg carefully over his lap, wincing a little as the bruise reminded her of its presence. With her hands on his shoulders she leaned in and kissed his lips.
“That was a very special moment for me Daddy,” she said quietly. His hands found her breasts and he looked down at them, awestruck by their text-book shape and firmness. But he simply held them in his hands and looked up at her, grinning back in delight.
“We should get cleaned up,” he said, kissing her lips gently. She nodded and they separated with Harry going upstairs to the bathroom while Holly used the kitchen. She slipped her t-shirt on again and sat back down on the sofa to begin the search for something interesting. She gazed out of the lounge at the stairs, thinking about him, what they had done and the look of total pleasure on his face. She wondered if he looked like that when he made love to his wife. She really hoped he did.
He came back down almost half an hour later, cleaned, refreshed and changed into clothes that she assumed he would wear that evening for dinner.
“Oh, you look smart Daddy!”
“Thanks Hol. I suppose you’ll have to wear your jeans, but what else?”
“I really only have this t-shirt Daddy.”
“Hmm, we could go and get something, we’ve got time.”
“Maybe I could just look around upstairs?”
“Yeah, just in Holly’s room, right?”
“Yeah, of course,” she replied, bouncing up the stairs as fast as her bruised thigh would allow.
Chapter 10 – Saturday Night’s Allright
The lane from her in-laws widened after a couple of miles as the car approached the o
utskirts of the town, the fields and hedgerows giving way to small bungalows with large gardens, then town houses and apartments. Holly sat up in the passenger seat and pointed out of the window.
“Oh my god, that used to be fields when we were here, remember?”
Her mother turned quickly towards her and looked disapprovingly before facing forward again. “Holly, do not take the Lord’s name in vain. I’ve told you so many times.” Her daughter rolled her eyes skywards and watched as the new housing estate slid past. “The Lord’s work is the foundation of our society, without it we will crumble like all other ancient civilisations.”
Holly sniffed, exasperated with her mother’s constant reminders, the quotes from the Bible that seemed totally out of context with modern life, her friends from church who were past their sell-by date, the stuffiness of her devotion to her invisible friend. She pursed her lips in thought, recalling how those old friends didn’t seem to visit so often now, if at all. Her mother’s insistence that the family attend church every Sunday morning was now relegated to ‘best efforts’. Even the house now seemed to be less cluttered, the collections of religious artifacts finally consigned to the cupboard under the stairs. Except for that stupid little statue of Mary or whoever. That needed to meet with an accident.
“That housing estate must mean that our civilisation is growing, right?” asked Holly. One day she would ask how many years Father Raymond had been given for sexual abuse.
“Don’t be smart young lady, you know what I mean,” said her mother with a tone implying finality. The street lights were coming on as they pulled up in front of the apartment block. “Be good, and say hello to Billy’s mother if you see her, OK? I’ll collect you around eleven.”
“Thanks Mum,” said Holly, shutting the door and looking up towards the apartment tower. The tenth floor was three from the top but she always had difficulty amongst the tinted green windows in deciding which belonged to the Moore’s. The whole street seemed to be lined with apartment blocks built by the same company in an identical style, crammed together and gasping for light. She entered the foyer and pressed the button for the lift. Looking back at her mother waving goodbye she felt a little uneasy in the gloom. This was not a place where you would want to linger.
Billy opened the door and greeted Holly with a scream and the tightest hug before pulling her into the apartment and holding her hands.
“Oh my god, look at you, you look gorgeous!” said Billy, grinning in delight.
Holly smiled and admired her friend’s golden hair, her healthy face and the tightness of her blouse and jeans over her young body. She pulled her close and wrapped her arms around her waist, kissing her cheek. “Oh wow, I have missed you so much!” bubbled Holly, swaying side to side with Billy in her arms. A dear friend from the age of ten they were inseparable until the day Holly had to leave when they moved house six years later.
“How did you get here? Bus?”
“No, my Mum dropped me off just now.”
“Oh, delivered from Evil!” They laughed at the joke as Billy led her through to the kitchen. Holly looked around the apartment and took note of the furniture that she had known from Billy’s previous house.
“Where’s your Mum and Dad?”
“They went out with some friends to the Casino. They won’t be back until tomorrow!”
“Oh wow, and they left you all alone?”
“Sure, but they knew you would be here.”
“And they still left you alone?” Billy slapped her arm and opened the fridge.
“What do you want?”
Harry looked around and spotted a bottle of white wine which had been opened. “Ah ha, I’ve always been a fan of the Pouilly-Fuisse 2014. A delicate little wine, so much nicer than the 2013, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, whatever,” said Billy, taking it from her. “It’s white and wet, that’s all I know.”
“Oh, just like me!”
They shrieked with laughter as Billy poured two glasses with unsteady hands, then as the amusement died down they looked at each other and clinked glasses together. “To us!” said Billy, with affection and warmth in her voice.
“To us,” replied Holly as Billy led her to the lounge.
Chapter 11 – Happy Meal II
It was maybe ten minutes from the apartment blocks to the McDonald’s on the other side of the town. Lydia pulled into the car park and looked out of the passenger windows. The clock in the car showed 7:55 which meant she had just over 30 minutes to get to her destination. She got out and opened the boot and by moving the floor mat she revealed a smaller piece of black plywood which covered the spare wheel. She grabbed the plastic carrier bag that she found squeezed within the space and made her way through the restaurant to the toilets.
Seven minutes later she returned to the car and drove west towards the more run-down section of the town and one where she rarely, if ever, had ventured before. The houses that were picked out by her headlights seemed mainly dark, with garden fences broken and windows missing from downstairs rooms. She had no trouble finding the address but couldn’t believe that the place was the right one. She wondered if she had perhaps copied the address down incorrectly from the email, or brought the wrong piece of paper.
She got out and listened to the sounds of the night. It was surprisingly quiet and she resolved to at least knock on the front door so she could say that she tried. The note pinned above the door knob simply read “Broken. Use basement steps at rear.” Her stomach tightened and thoughts of being found by Police after being beaten senseless entered her head. Even if she was attacked now she would have a lot of explaining to do, this wasn’t the nice part of town and she had no business being there. She picked her way through broken roof tiles and the innards of an old garden barbeque round through the long grass to the steps in the middle of the rear of the house. An old gutter partially blocked the steps down although she thought she could make out a feint shaft of light.
“Joe?” she hissed. There was no reply. She moved to the top of the stone steps and carefully stepped over the gutter, then took each step slowly until she could touch the basement door. “Joe?” She could see a candle through the partially opened door and with some trepidation she stepped through the threshold as the door squeaked theatrically. The basement was in ruins and while the walls were intact the ceiling looked like it had fallen down in some places and water had seeped down the walls and across the floor. The smell of decay permeated throughout as she made her way towards the candle.
The hand grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth as half a scream left her mouth. The thick glove felt like rubber, inhuman, slippery. She had barely registered the thought when a hood slipped over her head and a belt tightened around her throat.
“Shut the fuck up bitch!” shouted the voice. Male, stern, maybe Joe but it was hard to tell with the hood.
“Joe?” Please!”
Her hands were clasped together behind her as the man led her in to the depth of the basement. She felt herself falling and then collapsing onto a wooden surface, her hands now grabbed from behind, one of them tied tight so that she couldn’t get up. Then a foot, the other foot and finally her left hand, bound with what felt like thick rubber bands offering some movement but no chance of escape. It must be a table she thought as the coolness of the surface touched her exposed calves, but that thought was dismissed as that table suddenly collapsed and left her inclined at 45 degrees. She felt the padding beneath her backside and was then more certain that it was Joe.
“Bitch! This is my house! You know what this is?” she shrieked. A cool metal implement ran over her right hand. She shook her head. “It’s to teach you some manners when you’re in my house, bitch. It begins with ‘Cattle’ and ends in ‘Prod’”
Lydia screamed as it touched her neck with two distinct metal tips. “No, please don’t, please,” she screamed. Her heart beat furiously as she again doubted that she had really met up with Joe. They had played games several tim
es in the past two years but nothing like this. She needed the toilet again and the sack over her head was making it difficult to breath. The metal prongs trailed down her throat and he suddenly pushed them into her skin.
“Bzzz!” he shouted and she screamed again. “Save the fucking screaming lady, save it for when my boys get here!”
“No, please, please let me go,” she sobbed, squeezing her legs together to try to stop the thought of urinating.
“You can call me Father, slut. Call me Father O’Brien.”
“Father!”
“Yeah, where’s your god now, slut? Not exactly looking after one of his devoted, is he?” She could feel the man’s fingers now as he touched her throat. “So delicate, so easy to snap!”
The menace in his voice, his dreadful words, the promise of sex in the air and the very setting of the evening convinced her that he was right. For two years they had discussed, reasoned, argued and fought over her religious convictions. Her allegiance to the church had dwindled as the years had passed and the mantle passed to her by her parents had withered and died. Tonight, as he had said all along, marked the beginning of a new life for her.
She shook uncontrollably, tears falling down her cheeks, shame across her face as she knew that she was aroused. Fingers grabbed the top of her blouse and tugged gently. This was not how the evening was supposed to happen.
“Nice tits, slut,” he laughed as he ripped the blouse off her. She moaned as the cool air washed over her chest and sensed that the man had moved to her front. With a series of quick movements he ripped her bra off then her skirt. She felt him grab her ankles individually and then winced at the sound of a chain clanking. Her legs were pulled up and apart, exposing her knickers and the scant coverage they provided. When she was fully exposed he moved between her legs and grabbed her pussy in his palm. This is what they had planned, punishment for her lie of a life, a time for a reappraisal of what matters for her and a rebirth. She had Joe to thank for the endless emails that had brought them to this basement.
Shake That Tree Page 5