by Sofia Connor
"Damn guys she is soaking." He shouted from above to the men facing him. "Mmmm...so sweet, I bet your going to love this." The men laughed, not at what he said but knowing she was wet from the rain bearing down on her. Laughing at his stupidity.
As if there was a fire in his pants he ripped his trousers downwards along with his boxers together. Immediately his raging hard-on sprang up staring straight at the virgin pussy awaiting him. He inched forwards to his goal before stopping mere centimeters in front of her. The head of his penis resting on her slit. His face moved to hers and in her ears he whispered the countdown she was dreading.
5...4...3...2...1...
Go. With nothing left to loose he quickly, and without watching stabbed his cock forwards, but without the aiming he missed the target and hit just below her pussy to her ass. A roar of laughter burst from his friends knowing he missed the goal, determined to make it right this time he grabbed his dick hard as if he was mad at it and not himself and ran it vertically down her slit. He pushed forward until the bulbous head of his penis was just resting inside, he wasn't going to miss again, just as before he wanted to enter her sharply with speed and aggression. He restarted his countdown.
5..4..3..2..1
Within the exact second of counting to one a house brick flew through the air and stuck the man in the face, as if in slow-motion the projectile flew and struck home right in the mans' face, blood spewed in the opposite direction upon impact splattering Leah who lay beneath him. His head rocketed backwards along with his body pulling out of the girl and collapsing to the floor bleeding out a gnarly gash above his eye socket, the man was out cold.
Leah did not manage to see her attacker but the last image she saw was the attacker fly back as if he had been hit by the world's most powerful brick. Within milliseconds of their leader being hurled away the three remaining men stoop up releasing their hold over Leah. She desperately crawled away from the attackers towards where she hoped her clothes were but when she looked at the ground they were nowhere to be found, instead she curled up into the foetal position and cried to herself.
The three remaining men charged to the assailant, the quickest of the three reached the man first and swung a knockout blow towards the vigilante. The man saw the punch being thrown almost before the attacker thought about it and in one graceful moment moved his left leg behind his right and spun around watching as the punch flew past him. Once the mans' punch was past him he threw his right arm out in a quick snap action that struck his attackers ribs knocking the man to the floor clutching in pain.
By the time that the other two had reached the vigilante he had recovered from the stance and was now ready to battle again. The other two reached the man simultaneously and both threw the same hook punch at the man, one on the left the other on the right. Again, showing all the grace of a warrior he did not flinch at the attacks and in graceful and mastered movements his right arm extended up and hooked the man's punch in his biceps so that the attackers arm was now resting in his grasp. With speed and agility brought his own forearm downwards in such a way that he maneuvered his attackers arm into the path of the left hook, even though they were less than a few seconds of speed between them. The left hook stuck the right attackers' bicep causing a sharp gasp of pain from the other man. Then with the same motion he brought his left knee up and stuck the right man in the abdomen with a sickening thud causing him to kneel over, then with the same leg he twisted his knee right and landed his heel in the other mans' abdomen before bringing his right arm over his left, grabbing the attackers neck from behind and dropping his hip causing the attacker to topple over and heaved into the mans' shoulder. Then with the skill of a wrestler he launched his body back up throwing the man off his shoulders and into the man on the floor clutching his abdomen; both men impacted on the floor bodies colliding in an almighty clash. The thrown man was knocked out just as the man before him while the man already on the floor with another man thrown on top of him by freak chance ( or not) banged his head on the floor at impact and was severely dazed.
With the fight finished he vigilante walked over the damsel in distress. His lean and muscular body shadowing over her petite and scared frame. Leah looked up at her saviour and without her knowing her face displayed a thousand emotions. But most of all surprise.
"Are you Ok?" Asked the vigilante.
"Hey bro." Leah replied.
The End.
My Dirty Little Pervert
We're lying in bed, two feminine forms intertwined, but I feel more for her than I have for all my other friends. She's sweating from the warmth. I can smell her; she smells like horny. She's lying beside me, soft, warm, and naked; she is mine already although she doesn't know it yet. I have my hand around her slender waist and our breasts are almost touching with the soft rise and fall of our innocent, fragile bodies. Only, she doesn't make me feel fragile, like men do. She makes me want to fuck her so hard she screams. She makes me want to play with her soft and sensitive body so she quivers beneath my touch. There's a satisfaction I've always been given but now I'll take.
She says my name and I realize I've been digging my nails into her love handles. I apologize but she says that it's okay. She smiles at me delicately, almost afraid of me. My hand moves down from her waist to her ass which I graze lightly and I feel her heart racing. She says my name again but I don't stop. I reach between her legs and she gasps.
"what are you doing? Stop!" she cries, her voice is girly and innocent sounding. Her pussy is warm and wet, practically dripping.
"Well, well, aren't you a naughty girl?" I tease her. Her hands reach down to stop me but I'm stronger than her.
"Naughty girl, if you want me inside of you, you have to ask." I taunt her again. I want to fuck her so badly. It's my first time touching any pussy but my own. I play with her clit and smile as she resists meekly.
Now I slide my fingers inside of her and, pressing her insides, lie her on her back with her legs spread for me. I tie her legs down and slap her pussy so she squeals. I put on my double strap on inside myself and get between her legs. I slide in and out of her, my hips rubbing against her soft fleshy thighs. I steal a kiss and her lips are so soft against mine I can't help but bite them. Her hands reach around my face and she continues to kiss me, her lower lips slightly swollen. She's giving in to me but I don't want her to, I want to take her innocence. I remove her weak hands from my face and hold them down to the bed and fuck her harder. I slide in and out as fast as I can. My tits are bouncing with the impact of each thrust. She's looking fearfully into my eyes and I smack her in the face with my tits. Then I let her suck on my hard, sensitive nipple and I rub my breast against her face. The one breast can cover her entire face and I laugh at how small and delicate she is.
I move her to the end of the bed with her legs in the air so I can fuck her deeper, as deep as I can shove myself inside her but it isn't enough. She's not screaming loudly enough. I untie her and roll her onto her front and she lifts her ass for me. She begs me to fuck her. I slap her tiny tight ass so hard she falls back onto her front. I spread her legs and penetrate her again. I lift her ass up and play with her clit so she moans uncontrollably and breathes heavily. When I can feel she's about to come I spread her ass cheeks and spit on her ass hole. I stick my finger in her tight little hole, covered in my spit, and she screams. Her screams bring the biggest smile to my face.
I've done it, I've taken all her dignity and transformed her into my toy. I pull my strap on out of her pussy and with the hand that's fucking her ass, I push her back and forth against it. With my other hand I choke her delicate neck. Then I let her breathe and stick my fingers in her mouth so she chokes on them and her spit drips everywhere.
She begs me to fill her and although I know she means her pussy I stick more fingers in her ass until I' m filling her ass with my fist and leaving her pussy empty as she rubs against my toy cock. She's screaming; I play with the inside of her mouth with one hand and the inside of her ass with the o
ther. I want to see her pitiful teary-eyed face so I pull her hair to get her to sit against the wall and I shove my cock inside her mouth. I fuck her face as she chokes and cries. She plays with my clit and sucks desperately. I look at her cute little body all used and violated. I stare into her foolishly loving and trusting eyes as I fuck her face against the wall. She makes me come so hard I shake and my juices drip down her face.
I kiss her beautiful, sweaty body all over and praise her so she blushes. Her blushes inspire me again and I slap her face. "You're a bad girl, a very naughty, dirty girl!" I yell at her and turn her around. I spank her but I don't let her fall. I hold her and spank her again and again until her ass is red and there is a raised hand print on it.
"Why am I punishing you, slut?" I ask her angrily, my hand threatening to spank her again if she doesn't answer.
"Because I'm a bad girl. Please, I beg forgiveness." She cries.
"You're a dirty pervert, you know that?" I smile at her and she cries. Now I play with her clit with one hand and finger her little pussy with the other until she comes for me and I spank her a final time.
"You're my dirty little pervert now." I whisper in her ear.
"Thank you, master," she whispers, still throbbing with pleasure.
The End.
Tough Lesson Learned
There is a curious balance between watched and watching. Between prey and predator. He sees the whole class, he watches her. She sees him; she watches her back and knows because of this she is being watched. But by whom she doesn't fully know.
It's a teacher, she knows. She feels the disapproving eyes on her as she moves from group to group, but they don't see all, they don't know. Or, if they do, there's nothing they can do. She never brings anything contraband to college, she never sells in this district. Oh, sure she's got some customers from this area, she's even sold to one or two teachers before. Those were awkward times, when she'd got a call from another part of the city, only to turn up to find the person behind the door was a teacher. Was her teacher. Those were the classes she got the best grades in now. She thought of it as lubricating her future. There was no way she was going to be stuck in this dump with these losers for the rest of her life. She was going to make a name for herself. Everyone would know Elsa.
Well, everyone already did. Everyone knew Elsa sold the best weed. Yes, you had to pay a little bit more for it, but it was clean and not cut with anything else to carry the weight. Elsa was someone you could trust. But still, there was this feeling she had, on the back of her neck. Someone knew, someone wasn't happy.
Daniel Jennings stood at the widow of his chemistry lab on the third floor. It gave him a perfect bird's-eye view of the events in the school ground below. It was here that he first noticed Elsa's bizarre behaviour. Though she was one of the stoners; the crowd who didn't do so well in class, but never made too much of a fuss so teachers just let them coast on the lower grades; she rarely spent a lot of her time with them. As Daniel stood there sorting through the latest mock-exam papers for the upcoming STUDIES exams, he watched as Elsa flitted from group to group in the grounds below. In his hand he clutched her paper; he'd marked it as a low 'B' grade. But she was a stoner. It was her hand-writing. Even without comparing it to her class work, he knew it was her handwriting because of the distinctive way she wrote the word 'oxygen'. The 'xyg' looped into each other in such a way that it made Daniel think of those adverts for hydrating drinks.
He was still convinced she'd cheated somehow.
True, her grades had been high all year. Also true that she'd shown real interest in class. But still, she was a stoner. They coasted. They didn't get top-ten grades in class. Something was amiss, he was sure of it. His eyes drifted over her again. Perhaps she was paying one of the science nerds in weed to do her homework for her, to feed her the answers. Perhaps she was cheating.
Daniel rolled the word around his head slowly. It wasn't often he thought this. He wanted to think the best of his pupils. But there was something up with her. He couldn't place it, but he knew it was something he didn't like. He was young for a teacher, not quite fresh out of University, but this was his second placement. The first, he'd lost that doe-eyed certainty that he was making a difference in the world in less than a term. Now he was just getting through each day. He was glad that he taught Chemistry. The ability to simply blow something up on a bad day and call it 'science' was very satisfying. His first school had been an inner-city one. The kids were rougher than this lot. A day where for one lesson he could be heard over the din of chaos was a good day. They didn't happen often.
This school was in the suburbs, true, but it wasn't the wealthy part of the city. It was the area bordering the slum part of the city, where prostitutes and drug dealers alike were selling their wares openly in daylight. Here, the prostitutes stayed home, the men came to them; the dealers went to your door instead of standing on the corner. It wasn't much better, but it was more discreet. No student of this college would achieve a glowing future; on the other hand, at least they weren't as doomed as those in the next district over.
Daniel sighed as he put the paper back in the pile. Far below, Elsa moved again from one group to the next, conversing with everyone, making sure she was on good terms with all.
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For once Elsa did the normal teenaged thing of hanging around on a street corner, looking like she was up to no good. She'd run out of produce a while back, and had just enough time to get to the bank before it shut to deposit most of the cash into an account for her future. However, her curfew wasn't until nine, and in the summer it was warm and light outside at that time. At home all she had waiting for her was her drug-addled parents and cold, bad food. Her friends had gone home for their tea a long time ago, and she didn't want to go to the cinema alone, especially not this late. It was a school-night besides.
Elsa had already done her homework, she'd only had the time between when she got back from college and when her dad got back from 'work' around 5 or 6 to do anything by herself. He would either want her to smoke with him, or he would be in a foul mood and demand to know how much she'd made for him. He wasn't her real dad, but he'd taken care of her since she was very little and her mum was constantly in a stupor. Keith had started out as her mother's dealer. Then he began to spend more and more time around. He often said as a joke that Elsa was so quiet, he'd lived with them for two months before he realised his new girlfriend had a daughter at all. Elsa remembered that time with a little haze. The guy her mum had kept around before Keith had been very touchy-feely with her, and she didn't like him. When Keith kicked him out one night for beating Elsa's already-unconscious mother half to death, Elsa was still frightened this new one would be like the last one.
Keith, however, was very different. He'd been kind and made sure she always had something to eat in the evenings. He even drove her to school when she missed the bus. He was like a real dad to her, except when he was in a rage. Keith worked the streets for the harder drugs. He had a weed plantation somewhere out in the sticks which kept him supplied, and he also peddled pills and rocks for the bigger drug dealers. But if his supply got cut due to a raid, or if a client died or went into rehab, he wasn't happy, and when he wasn't happy Elsa was the first to know. He never beat her, or touched her in anyway. He was just bitter and cruel to her. She was an easy target, she knew. So instead she became an absent target. She came home long after he'd smoked himself into a blissful state, and went straight to her room.
When she was thirteen he'd approached her one morning and asked her if she wanted to make some pocket money. He'd slipped twelve plastic bags of some green across the breakfast table, telling her each was worth ?10. "Enough for your little friends to get a little happy." She'd refused to sell them at college, but she said she'd ask around for afterwards. That's how she began. She'd go round each clique, they all knew who she was now. She kept up on the gossip, and got people's phone numbers and addresses to go drop the stuff off later. It was tough work wi
thout a car, some people lived out in the middle of nowhere, but it gave her enough to get by and never ask Keith or her mum for money. Keith, of course, expected a little kickback for the green he provided, but he was reasonable. He knew she was saving to get out of there, and he approved whole-heartedly.
So now Elsa was about half an hour's walk from her house. Her friends had abandoned her, the streets were getting darker and she scuffed her shoes along the outside of the curb, hands in her hoodie pockets and staring at the dimming sky. A couple cars had slowed to a crawl on the off chance she was stood there to sell something, but when she didn't approach the windows, they quickly pulled away.
She was startled to feel a hand yank her arm backward out of her pocket. Ready to fight or flee, she turned.
"Mr Jennings?" Her surprise made her forget her stance, one fist raised behind her head. His eyes flicked angrily from her fist back to her face. She lowered her arm. "You surprised me."
"What the hell do you think you're doing out here?" He was furious. He'd been watching her from his kitchen window as she stood on the corner. He didn't know whether he was more angry that she was in his neighbourhood, likely selling drugs or herself, or that he'd caught himself admiring her body.
"Sorry, Mr Jennings. I'm just killing time before curfew." She had the decency to lower her head and scuff her shoes again. His brow drew together. Doing this, she looked her age. Finally.
"Don't you know how dangerous it is for a girl your age to stand around? Come on, you can kill time inside my place and then I'll drive you home. When is your curfew?" He spun around and walked away, listening for her footsteps to begin tripping after him.