Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“You feel that? Your pussy is wet and swollen because you want me, too.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I did want Owen. I just had no clue what he actually meant.
“I do,” I told him breathlessly, eyes closed against the sensations his fingers on my bottom caused. I meant I wanted him to keep making me feel how I was feeling, special and excited and worked up as I’d never felt before.
“Good.” The growl was deeper and darker, and a finger plunged into me. I was shocked, to say the least.
“Owen, no. Slower,” I urged him even as his mouth hungrily sought mine. Blood rushed through my ears as sensations overwhelmed my body. Owen devoured my mouth, plunging in and out of me with his fingers until I stopped resisting. Until I gave in.
“So fucking tight,” he growled and shoved me to the hard, cold ground. “I can’t wait to get inside that tight little cunt of yours.”
I looked up at him, shocked by his words. No one I knew talked like that. I shook my head. “No, Owen. I’m not ready for that.” The idea of losing my virginity, never mind behind the football bleachers, shocked and appalled me. I always imagined it would be a nice hotel room on my wedding night.
“Oh yeah, you’re more than ready,” he told me as he knelt down at my feet. “Taste how ready you are,” he said and shoved the finger that had just been inside of me into my mouth.
I choked on his finger and shoved him away, but Owen wasn’t upset. No, he laughed and used his legs to push my knees apart.
“Owen, please,” I begged.
He shoved my skirt up my legs and tore my cotton underwear. “You hear that, boys? She’s begging for it.”
Boys? When I tore my shocked gaze from Owen’s stupid face, I realized we were no longer alone. At least a half dozen boys in letterman’s jackets stood around with beers in hand, cigarettes hanging from their mouths as they smiled and watched the show.
The show.
Me. I was the show.
And the show wasn’t over. Not yet.
“Don’t make her wait, man. Give her what she wants!”
“No,” I cried out. “I don’t want it. I don’t, Owen. Please.”
“Yeah, keep begging. My cock is getting so hard.” He unleashed that monster, stroking it hard and fast as he scooched on his knees until his knuckles brushed my thighs with every stroke. “You’ll enjoy it,” he assured me, but the sinister look in his eyes terrified me.
“No. I don’t want this.” I didn’t. I was okay with kissing even though I knew it was wrong. Even the feel of his fingers between my legs was nice. I was prepared for the Hail Mary’s in store for me for liking those feelings, but not for this. Not my virginity.
“If you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t be so wet for me.”
I wanted to tell him he was wrong, but I didn’t know that for certain, and I was wet down there. Before I could tell him anything, his penis invaded my body in one long stroke.
“Ow! No! No!” It hurt like hell, the unwanted invasion, the burning sensation it caused as he pumped in and out of me.
“Owen, no! Please.”
His lips spread into a grin. “Tight virgin pussy is my favorite.”
I looked around, pleading for someone—anyone—to help, but the boys offered no help. They smiled and jeered in the face of my fear, my humiliation. Not one young face looked horrified at what was happening, and I shut my eyes against it. Against all of it.
Willing myself to die.
Owen continued to pump his hips, sending his cock deeper and deeper until the physical pain disappeared. I prayed that it would end soon, that God would take mercy on me and end this pain, this humiliation soon.
He didn’t.
It felt as if Owen invaded me for an eternity, and then his hips sped up, pumped harder and faster. Owen wrapped one arm around the back of my neck and pulled me so close I thought I might suffocate against his chest; the other hand gripped my thigh so hard there would be a bruise there before the night was over. He did it harder and harder, and I knew the end was near.
And then something even more horrifying happened. My body grew warm, and a strange sensation started at my toes and worked its way up until I felt even fuller than before.
My insides pulsed around his penis, tight convulsions that caused a growl of delight to ripple through him and reverberate against my chest.
“I knew you would enjoy it,” he grunted. “You feel the way your cunt grips me? That means you’re enjoying it.”
Enjoying it? No, it couldn’t mean that. Could it? I wasn’t enjoying any of it. The Catholic school version of sex-ed was don’t have sex until you’re married or hell, fire and damnation await.