Martin woke up late, Sunday morning.
He took a quick shower, dressed, and then headed downstairs.
Martin couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten, anything. Two or three days ago, maybe?
Some cereal at Emily’s house, he thought.
He felt like he should be hungry, but strangely wasn’t…
Martin suddenly had a vivid flash of eating Rosie out last night.
She had tasted sweet.
His mouth watered, causing him to pause on the steps.
Martin heard his aunt in the kitchen laughing, and that brought him back to his senses—the shame returning with it.
“I woke up this morning, and felt twenty years younger,” Rosie said. “It’s like I have all energy, even after going on a long run this morning...”
“Time to face the music,” he told himself.
“Hi Martin,” Emily said, as he entered the kitchen.
A large picnic basket sat on the table in front of her.
“I’m officially free, and I thought we could celebrate. I hope you brought your appetite.”
He simply smiled and nodded, but found it hard to look at her, especially after what he’d been up to last night.
If she had been here instead of Rosie, you wouldn’t need to feel this way, the voice at the back of his head told him. It’s her fault that you did what you did.
He nodded, but almost immediately, regretted it.
Rosie drank a glass of water.
She wore a sweatshirt and sweatpants, and her sweat had matted on the shirt.
Martin stared, and could see the outline of her nipples poking behind the fabric.
Rosie put her glass down, and looked up.
Seeing him, she bounced over to him with a dreamy smile on her face.
Rosie pressed her sweaty body close to his.
Martin could feel the heat between her legs, and was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing any underwear.
She embraced him, but just as quickly pulled back, with a strange look on her face, and then shook her head.
Her body remembered what had happened, even if her mind did not.
Thankfully, Emily hadn’t noticed, as she busied herself by texting on her phone.
Martin went to the table, and sat down next to her.
Emily squeezed his thigh. Her fingers lingered for a moment, and then brushed against his crotch.
He jumped slightly.
Emily flashed a suggestive smile at him, before pulling her hand away.
A few seconds later, she put her phone down, and then turned to face him.
She pointed at her cheek, and asked, “Notice anything different about me?”
Martin forced himself to look, but just as quickly averted his eyes.
He shook his head.
How could a girl like this possibly love a monster like him?
“See I told you he wouldn’t notice,” Emily chirped.
Rosie scoffed, and then said, “Men seldom do.”
“My scars,” Emily said triumphantly. “They’re all gone.”
“That’s so wonderful, Emily,” Rosie said. “What are you using?”
“Umm,” Emily stammered, “I-I-It’s a n-n-new cold cream.”
“Really,” Rosie pressed. “What’s the name of it? I noticed some crow’s feet around my eyes this morning. The joys of getting old I guess, and would love to try it out.”
“Umm,” Emily said quietly, “I don’t remember.”
Emily turned away. Her face blushing.
“I wasn’t looking at your face,” Martin blurted out. It seemed an odd and stupid thing to say out loud.
“Martin!” Rosie shouted. She was in mom mode now, and had followed her arms across her chest. “That’s a very, inappropriate thing to say, young man.”
Emily burst out laughing.
It wasn’t long before Rosie started laughing too.
Martin stared at both of the women, as if they had both gone crazy.
“It’s alright,” Emily said, letting him on the joke. “At least you’re looking.”
She kissed him on the cheek, breaking the tension in the room.
See, the voice at the back of his head told him. They don’t know what you did. You can get away with anything...
This time, he did listen, and felt a sort of preserve pleasure growing inside of him.
“It’s weird,” Rosie said. She looked at him strangely again, and this brought him back to reality.
“Martin you look just like Clark Kent,” she said.
Martin rolled his eyes. He was getting so sick and tired of everyone telling him that.
“And Emily,” Rosie continued, “I never noticed it before but you look just like Lois Lane from the old Superman’s Girlfriend comics. I mean you’re a little darker than she was...”
“It’s the savage in me,” Emily confessed.
“It’s uncanny,” Rosie said. “I think you two were made for each other.”
Emily’s face brightened at the suggestion.
Martin, however, saw an opportunity. He wanted to ask his aunt about the weird comic book in her room, but didn’t want to arouse her suspicion.
“You like comic books, Rosie?” Martin asked.
Rosie rolled her eyes, and laughed a little.
“I guess the secret’s out,” she said. “When I was a kid, I would go around to garage sales looking for old comic books. Not so much to read, more to try and copy the pictures. By the time I was your age, Martin, I had quite the collection. Well, until my sister Jackie got mad at me about something, and burned them all in the backyard.”
Because you slept with her boyfriend, Martin thought.
“But I had already been sending out art samples by then,” Rosie continued. “And I got a letter back from a small independent company asking me if I wanted to write and draw an on going story for one of their anthology books.”
“Wow,” Emily said. “That’s kind of cool.”
“Well,” Rosie said. “it’s actually kind of embarrassing, and something I definitely wouldn’t want you kids to read.”
“What was it about?” Martin asked.
“Um...well remember Conan the Barbarian with Arnold Schwarzenegger, it was like that,” Rosie said. “Busty, barbarian queens, savage hunky guys, you know that sort of thing.”
“Now I definitely want to read it,” Emily said, enthusiastically.
Rosie chuckled a little, and then add, “Trust me, you don’t. It’s pretty bad. But, I think I have some back issues in a box up in the attic, if you want to see for yourselves.”
She paused, a dreamy look on her face.
“After the anthology ended, I did get an offer from a major comic book company to draw a new female-centric title they were planning to launch. Apparently, I had a talent for drawing busty women.”
“That’s amazing, Rosie,” Emily said.
“But, I was a married with a baby on the way, so I ended up turning them down. And they ended up canceling the launch of that comic book series, anyway. So, it was never meant to be, I guess.”
“Does my dad know about this?” Emily asked.
“Of course. I couldn’t keep a secret like that from him even if I tried,” Rosie said. “And, Joe encourages me to keep drawing...”
She cut off there. Her face serious for a moment, and Martin could see the sadness in her green eyes.
“But I don’t think anything will ever come of it,” she said, finally, flashing a sad smile.
“Is that the time?” Rosie asked, looking up at the wall clock. “I’d better get ready for my shift at the diner.”
Rosie walked over to the kitchen cabinet, and then bent over as she opened the bottom drawer.
Martin immediately focused on her prostrated form.
He had that. That was his.
A low, barely audible growl escaped his lips.
She soon stood, holding her uniform, and then headed upstairs—completely oblivious.
Emily squeezed his arm, bringing him back.
“You ready?” She asked.
Emily smiled, and picked up the picnic basket off the table.
But as they headed out the door, all Martin could think about was his aunt. Her body drenched in sweat, bent over, as if offering herself to him.
* * *
Despite the chill in the air, Emily was drenched in sweat.
They had only walked about five blocks, and already her arms felt like they were ready to snap off.
The picnic basket hadn’t seemed that heavy when they started, but now it weighed a ton.
Martin offered to carry the basket for her, several times, but she had turn down each time with, a short: “I got it.”
It seemed very important to her to show him that she wasn’t some weak ass girl, who couldn’t pull her own weight.
Her pride, all but abandoned her when she realized they still had at least a mile to go.
But, as they rounded another corner, she didn’t protest too much when Martin simply took the basket from her.
They made their way out of town, Emily in the lead. Although, she felt slightly annoyed that he seemed to have no trouble carrying the basket at all.
Her annoyance turned to excitement, when she saw the small gap in the woods, just ahead of her.
She had almost missed it. The surrounding plant-life had grown considerably since the last time she has been here.
Emily beckoned Martin to follow, as she disappeared into the jungle.
Her mother had shown her this place, and it was the last happy memory Emily had of her. This had been their secret place. Back when her mother had still been young and healthy, before the cancer ravaged her body leaving nothing but skin and bones.
Emily heard Martin clumsily stomping his way down the path to join her.
She put a finger to her lips, gesturing for silence.
“We whisper here,” Emily said quietly. “This is a place of ghosts.”
That’s what her mother had told her anyway, but she repeated it now with conviction.
To her great joy the weeping willow was still there.
“If you listen close, you can hear the willow sobbing,” her mother told her. “For willows grow in a place, where someone dies with great sadness in their heart.”
Emily strained her ears listening for that sound now, but only heard the gently babble of the stream that ran the length of the trail.
She rejoined Martin on the path.
Her hand sought his, and she soon took hold of his free hand, leading him down the path.
To her delight, the house was still there too.
The house had lost some of its gleam, dulled as it was by age, but a ray of sunlight shown down on it, given it a heavenly glow.
She squeezed his hand, and rested her head on his shoulder, glad for his warmth right now.
“This is the house I want to live in someday,” Emily whispered.
“I’m surprised no one’s vandalized it,” he said.
“It’s supposed to be haunted,” Emily answered, quietly. “An old woman used to live here.”
And, Emily wondered if that old woman had died with sadness in her heart.
She turned, and slipped into his arms.
“Thank you for coming here with me,” she said.
She kissed him.
“This place means a lot to me,” she said, “And so do you.”
Before he could say something stupid, and spoil the mood, she led him to the willow.
She took the basket from him, and placed it near the willow tree.
“Shoot,” she said, annoyed. “I forgot to pack the blanket.”
Martin quickly solved that problem. He took off his coat, and laid it on the grass in front of her.
She sat, and then patted the make shift blanket next to her.
He took the hint, and sat down next to her.
“Such a gentlemen,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.
“Now,” she whispered in his ear, “fuck me hard.”
Emily laid back, lifting the hem of her skirt, and then spread her legs.
She sighed as he pulled her panties off, getting wet in anticipation of the act.
“Wait… what are you doing?” She asked, as he buried his face in her crotch.
Emily gasped, as his tongue spread open the folds of her tiny slit.
Her body tensed, and then she cried out, as his tongue played with her clit.
“Oh fuck!” She screamed. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”
Her hand dropped to the back of his head. At the same time, she ground her hips in rhythm to the flicks of his tongue.
She didn’t last long, crying out, and squeezed her thighs around his head, as she came hard.
He pulled away, leaving her panting and horny as fuck.
He unzipped his pants, not bothering to take them off, just pulling them down enough to expose himself.
He fell on top of her, her cum still dripping from his lips.
Her body jumped as he pushed into her, and after the initial shock, her legs wouldn’t stop shaking.
He felt big and heavy. So big and heavy that if she hadn’t been so obscenely wet, then he never would have been able to fit inside of her.
Instinctively, she pushed a hand against his chest to hold him back, but he would not be so easily deterred.
She had asked him to fuck her hard, but what he did now was savage, and each pump stretched her tiny slit to the absolute limit.
She wrapped her free arm around his neck, like a leash, and held on.
He really is an animal, she thought.
To prove her point, he growled and snarled like a dog, with each powerful thrust.
The thrusting intensified, growing more hungry and desperate.
His cock throbbed inside of her, rendering her helpless, and vulnerable to what was about to come.
He roared, exploding inside of her—filling her to the brim.
A wave of relief washed over her.
It was over, and yet her legs wouldn’t stop shaking.
“Oh my god,” she cried, softly.
She pulled him close, kissing him, tasting herself on his lips—she tasted sweet, like honey.
She suddenly gasped.
He was still hard.
Lust filled her heart, and she could see the burning desire in his eyes.
Her eager fingers quickly unbuttoned her sweater.
He followed suit, pulling off his own shirt.
She had a surprise for him.
Something to wet his appetite.
She pulled open the sweater, and guided his hands to her bare breasts.
Would he notice that they had gotten bigger?
“Touch me here,” she said. It was both a request and a command.
Her hips bucked underneath him, repeatedly slamming into his groin, as he tenderly massaged her breasts.
Her hips continued to buck. At the same time her eyes rolled back in her head—lost in bliss. His mouth closed in around one of her nipples—nipples that were so sensitive she hadn’t even worn a bra today.
She came hard, and the hardness of it shook her back to the waking world, making her scream and scream again.
He came a few seconds later. And, the hot seed splashing inside of her had an almost calming effect.
Her body relaxed, but her legs still wouldn’t stop shaking.
“I fucking love you,” she cried, pulling him down, and then kissed him over and over again.
Their lust spent, at least for the moment, he pulled free of her.
She groaned at the lost.
He leaned back against the willow, and soon she snuggled up close to him, resting his head on his chest.
They said nothing, enjoying the calm of their surroundings.
But, a nagging thought picked at her, not letting her have a moment’s peace.
Did she really love him?
She lusted after him, for sure, especially after what they had just done.
The benefit of being a teenager was you fell in love quickly, and your passion burned bright.
The downside, though, was you could fall out of love, just as quickly, as that passion burned itself out.
In a few months, she would graduate from high school and enter the adult world.
What would happen then?
Emily couldn’t really see herself with any other man…
But there were things about him, she didn’t like.
She wished that he would stand up for himself, especially against creeps like Billy and Trunk.
But, she realized that that must be very hard for him, especially considering how he grew up, and how terrible his mom had treated him.
She also wished he would talk more.
He really didn’t say much, and it would be up to her to do most of the talking in their relationship.
And, what about him? Was he happy with her? Or was this just some passing fling?
She really didn’t have any hobbies.
Her sole hobby was taking care of her dad; making sure he ate right, keeping the house clean, and doing the dishes and laundry.
And while she would watch horror movies with her dad or listen to him talk about comic books, she really didn’t care about those things.
It was just the life she knew.
She realized now that this boy she was with— the one who had made her so happy— was a lot like her dad, in that they both need someone to take care of them.
At some point she dozed off, and her troubled thoughts played themselves out in a most vivid dream.
Emily saw herself holding a ring out in front of her.
The stone inside the ring wasn’t a diamond though. No, the stone appeared to be green.
A jade maybe?
“A kryptonite ring,” she heard herself say, “to keep you in line.”
Martin stood next to her shyly smiling, behind them lay the Grand Canyon—a moment forever captured in time.
The scene shifted, and now she was in a car. She didn’t recognized the car, but somehow knew her dad had bought it at a police auction.
They were parked in Death Valley at night, and the top of the car had been pulled down.
She made love to Martin, riding him, in the cool desert air—young and in love.
The scene shifted again, she was older now, in her thirties. Still, she had to admit, she did look pretty good.
She stood in a classroom, surrounding by children, Mrs. Zall written on the chalkboard behind her.
Omigod, she was a teacher, which kind of surprised her, because she hated school so much. But she was a cool teacher, and she could feel the love and respect the grade school kids had for her. The kids were laughing, and so was she.
Then she was alone on the school stairway, crying as she did every year, as her grade school kids moved onto middle school.
Something told her that she had no kids of her own, but not from lack from lack of trying.
The scene shifted again, and what followed now was a montage of images of her straddling Martin, fucking his brains out, over and over again, until it ended with her an old woman, pull of free of him.
And again, Emily had to admit, that with the exception of some white hair, and a few lines on her face, she still looked pretty good for an old lady.
Martin looked good too. He had lost his hair at some point, but he was as skinny as ever.
The old woman rested her head on his bare chest, a satisfied smile on her face.
Emily woke with a start.
Martin was the one! Rosie had been right, they were made for each other.
And whether it was intuition or wishful-thinking, she believe it. She believed that all those things she had seen in her dream would come to pass, and that she and Martin would live happily ever after.
Something glimmered in the sunlight, catching her eye.
Martin wore some sort of weird necklace.
How had she never seen it before?
The pendant looked hideous. At first it appeared to be a snake eating its own tail. But, when she looked again, the snake appeared to be sucking itself off.
Her hand reached out.
“No!” Martin cried.
Too late as her fingers close around it. It felt cold to the touch.
Instantly she came—hard!
But she felt no relief from it.
Her lips curled into a snarl.
“Fuck me!” She growled. “Fuck me now!”
She got on her hands and knees in front of him, offering himself to him. She remembered that the monster between his legs liked it from behind.
She needed that monster now—hungered for it—to drill her out, to make her scream!
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” She barked over his shoulder. “Put it in! Put it in!”
She felt his hard cock press against the crack of her ass, and her body shivered in anticipation.
But now something sly and perverted filled her thoughts.
She wanted him to hurt her, to humiliate her, to treat her like the whore that she was.
“Put it in my ass!” She growled.
“What?” Martin asked.
“Put it in my ass!” She cried. “You fucking bastard!”
And like always, he did what he was told.
Now she screamed!
It hurt. Oh god it hurt so much!
The pain sent a shiver up her spine, and he had only put in the head.
But, he was reluctant to go any further.
She could hear him gasping and moaning, as her ass squeezed the life out of his giant cock.
His reluctance only increased her lust.
Now her inner bitch came out, as she braced herself for what she was to come.
If he wasn’t going to do it, then she would do it herself. All she needed from him was his cock.
Her lips curled into a wicked little smile, knowing it was going to hurt a lot.
She slammed herself back—hard enough that she almost knocking him over.
If she had been in right mind, she might have found that funny.
She screamed, screamed with a mad, and savage fury.
He was deep, deep in that place where no man had gone before, so deep it felt like he was going to split her in half.
She loved every second of it. Loved being so naughty.
Emily slammed herself back again, and once she started, she couldn’t stop—impaling herself again and again on his enormous prick.
Every part of her hurt, and she couldn’t stop shaking, but she continued to abuse herself.
Her efforts soon produced the desired effect, as he grabbed her hair, and thrust wildly into her.
She had awakened the beast, and the beast loved to take her from behind.
She could feel him in the back of her throat; and she loved that he now made her his bitch.
He growled, his hips frantically pumping into her, until his cum flooding her colon.
He still had enough humanity to slowly withdrew from her.
She snarled, and continued to snarl at his retreat.
It ended with a pop, as he pulled free of her.
But, pulling free had left him exposed and vulnerable.
In one quick motion, she attacked him straight one.
Her lips, pulled him into her mouth.
He tasted like cum and shit, but a vile hunger drove her on, as she sucked him off.
Her pace became frantic, and did not slacken, as he became hard again inside her mouth.
Inside her mouth, however, his throbbing cock tickled her throat as she brought him to an exciting climax.
His body twitched, as then he came.
Hot seed poured down her throat.
She drank it down, satisfying her thirst.
He tasted sweet.
She pulled her head back, gasping once she was free of him.
Emily sat on her knees, blinking several times, as if coming out of a dream.
“I’m sorry,” she said, more to herself than to him. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Emily cupped a hand to her mouth. She was going to be sick.
She fled to the small stream behind the willow tree.
Emily dry heaved a few times, but mercifully did not throw up.
When the sickness passed, she splashed cold water on her face.
The cold helped revive her, and she soon felt like herself again.
But as Emily sat there, catching her breath, she swore she could hear what sounded like an old woman crying.
Martin had dressed, signaling the end of their love making.
Part of her felt relieved. She’d have to watch herself with him. He’d made her feel so good. But, they had done things that Emily thought she would never do. Things that frankly, she found disgusting.
But, another part of her liked being so wild and free. Liked being unleashed from the chains of polite society that held her back, from sinking completely into debauchery.
Her lips pulled back into a wicked, little smile.
She shook these thoughts away, quickly buttoned up her sweater, and smoothed out of her skirt.
She had no idea what had happened to her panties.
Emily shrugged. The skirt, however, was thick enough that even if she were wet down there, it shouldn’t soak through.
She rejoined Martin. But, she had a hard time looking at him, after what they had done, and did her best to avoid his eyes.
“Are you hungry?” She asked. Her voice, sounded mostly normal, but her throat felt raw.
“Thirsty,” he said. His voice raspy and hoarse.
She took out a six pack of Coke from the basket.
Almost immediately, he snatched the entire pack away from her.
Martin opened a can, and drank it so quickly that some of the drink spilled from the corners of his mouth, and dripped onto his shirt.
He discarded the empty can, and opened another. He drank the second can down in one gulp.
When, he reached for a third, she started to laugh.
“Slow down,” she giggled. “I’m already impressed by your manliness.”
He smiled, and drank his third Coke down in one gulp.
Things felt normal between them now, as if the tension had dispersed in the air.
Emily snatched a Coke from him, before he drank the whole pack.
She wasn’t much of a soda drinker, but the sweetness of the drink felt good on her tongue, and washed some of the vile from her mouth.
She sipped at her drink, and suddenly burped.
“Sorry,” she said, covering her mouth in a lady like fashion.
Martin hadn’t even noticed, as he chugged down his fourth Coke.
He reached for the last one, but she took it, and hid it away in the basket.
Martin glared at her. She felt a brief moment of fear. He had a savage look on her face, like a wolf.
She looked away, and said, “Lets save that one for my dad. He’d never forgive us if we drank it all.”
He nodded slowly, satisfied with that answer.
He smiled, his kind smile, and rested his back against the willow again.
His smile put her at ease, and she sat next to him again, laying her head against his chest.
“I love you,” she said, quietly.
He patted her head—like a dog.
* * *
Emily lifted the coat, and her face went red.
The coat felt completely soaked, and not from the grass.
“Sorry,” she said. “I guess I got a little carried away.”
“It’s alright,” Martin said, reaching for it.
Emily shook her head, and pulled it close to her chest.
“I’ll clean it, and give it back to you,” she said.
“You don’t have to do that,” Martin told her.
Emily shook her head again, and let out an expatriated sigh.
“God,” she said. “Don’t you know anything about women?”
He looked at her confused.
“If I clean it, then I’ll have an excuse to see you again,” she explained.
He continued to look at her in confusion.
“I’m a girl, hello,” she said, as if that explained everything.
He was still confused.
“Okay look,” she said now. “I can’t just come over and say: ‘Put your dick in me.’”
He still wasn’t getting it, and again Emily sighed in expatriation.
“Just trust me,” she said. “It’s just not how girls do things. But if I have some excuse, like ‘Oh here’s your jacket.’ Then one thing may lead to another, and what do you know your dick is inside of me, and we are going at it like rabbits. See…”
Before Martin could say anything else, a car horn sounded, and Emily ran out of the woods.
Sheriff Joe waited for them.
Emily rushed forward.
Martin followed close behind.
She leaned forward, peering into the passenger side window.
Martin’s eyes narrowed.
Her skirt had rode up a little, partially exposing her bare ass.
“Hi daddy,” Emily said.
“Did you kids have a good time?” Joe asked.
“The best,” Emily answered.
“Well, get in,” Joe said, opening the door. “I’ll give you guys a ride home.”
Emily quickly slipped into the passage seat.
Martin reluctantly got in the back.
Inside the backseat, he felt like a caged animal. There were no handles on the door, and a wire mesh fence separated him from the front.
Joe pulled out into traffic.
When he had driven a little, Joe called back over his shoulder.
“Just so you know, Martin,” Joe said. “As a dad, I have a psychic ability to know where my daughter is at all times. That’s how I knew you’d be here.”
“Shut up,” Emily said, punching her dad lightly in the shoulder. Now, she looked over her shoulder.
“I texted him before we left,” she explained. “And told him to pick us up. You know, so we wouldn’t have to walk the two miles back.”
“Just keep telling yourself that, Emily,” Joe said.
She had her cell phone out, and now asked, “Martin what’s your cellphone number?”
“I don’t have one,” Martin said, quietly.
“What?” Emily said, in disbelief. “But everyone has a cell nowadays.”
Martin shook his head, and then explained, “Rosie doesn’t make that much at the diner. Summer doesn’t work. And whatever I make at the library, I usually give to Rosie for groceries.”
Shit, he thought. I was supposed work at the library today. God, I hope Tracy isn’t too mad at me for that. Maybe if I explained that I was with a girl, and lost track of time…
“Well this won’t stand,” Emily said, dramatically. “I’m afraid you can’t be my boyfriend if you don’t have a cellphone.”
“Emily!” Joe snapped.
“I mean, what if I need to text you, Martin, for an emergency make out session?” Emily said, haughtily.
“You guys make out?” Joe asked, eyeing his daughter sternly.
“What do you think Martin and I do together?” Emily asked.
“I don’t like to think about it all,” Joe said. “But, I imagine you guys look longingly into each other’s eyes. Dreaming of the day when the two of you are married, and can have sex. Until then you remain blissfully innocent.”
“That’s it, exactly,” Emily answered, nodding her head. “Wow, you really are psychic.”
“Told you,” Joe answered.
“Don’t worry, Martin,” Emily said. “I’ll hook you up, so you can still be my boyfriend.”
Behind the wire mesh, Martin smiled and nodded.
He was actually having a good time, just listening to Emily and her dad banter back and forth.
Best of all, neither one seemed to mind that he wasn’t saying much.
“What’s for dinner?” Joe asked.
“Why are you asking me?” Emily said, reverting briefly into a bratty teenager.
“I ask,” Joe said, patiently. “Because, maybe Martin would like to join us.”
“Martin, do you want to come to dinner?” She asked excitedly.
Yeah Martin, you could eat her out again.
Martin nearly jumped, when he heard the voice in the back of his head.
You know an even better idea would be to give, Sheriff Joe there, a big, fat cock and have him shove it into his daughter’s tiny little slit. Then you could have him cum over and over again, filling her up until her belly burst.
Martin’s eyes darted to the window.
Outside, the sun began to set.
No, he thought. Not now.
Trust me Martin, the voice cooed. There are times when Joe doesn’t see her as his daughter, at all, but as his wife. And Emily…well, you’re seen what a whore she can be.
Martin shook his head.
“No?” Emily said, pouting. “Are you sure? We are having chicken sandwiches.”
“Are those the ones with the tomato spread, instead of mayo?” Joe asked.
“Mm-hmm,” Emily nodded, and then said, “We even saved you a Coke, dad.”
“I could kiss you, Emily,” Joe said.
See he wants it, the voice said to Martin now. Why deny him the sin?
“Sorry dad, Martin has first dibs on that,” Emily answered.
Why not spice things up? The voice said now. Add Rosie to the mix. She aches for your big, fat cock.
Martin squirmed in his seat. He felt a sharp pain in groin, as his cock hardened and stretched.
You fuck Rosie. Joe fucks Emily, and the girls fucked each other…
“No, Martin gasped. “Please.”
“Are you alright, Martin?” Emily asked.
Martin shook his head.
Do it Martin! The voice screamed.
Martin clutched his stomach, as another sharp pain pulled at his groin.
It’s so easy Martin, the voice cooed again. And you can make them forget after, just like you did with Rosie. Of course, their minds may forget, but their bodies never will. And they’ll hunger for the sin always and forever, like Rosie does now.
“Daddy,” Emily cried. “Pull over. I think Martin’s going to be sick.”
Joe made a disgusted face, and quickly parked at the curb.
Even before her dad had turned off the engine, Emily jumped out of the car, and rushed to the back.
She let Martin out, and he fell to the curb.
“Martin,” Emily cried. “Are you alright?”
Her hand reached for his forehead, checking to see if he had a fever.
But, Martin pushed her hand away.
“I’m fine,” he growled.
Emily stepped back, and he could see the look of both worry and confusion on her face.
“Claustrophobic,” he said, his voice softer now. “J-J-Just needed some fresh air.”
Emily’s eyes went wide, as she saw the enormous bulge in his pants. Then her eyes narrowed, and she licked her lips.
“I’ll call you later,” he said. He fled, before she could stop him.
He knew what he had to do.
To save Emily, to save Joe, to save himself, someone else would need to be sacrificed to feed his ever growing hunger.
TO BE CONTINUED...