A NIGHT TO REMEMBER
She felt so bored.
God, it was so unfair.
She was a young woman who desperately needed passion and excitement in her life.
But here she was, grounded, and her stupid dad had taken her cell phone.
But, that didn’t mean she was completely cut off from the world.
Earlier, she had tried to call Martin from the land line in the kitchen, to see if he wanted to come over on the sly.
But, Rosie had stymied her plans telling her that Martin wasn’t feeling well.
So instead, she called her friend Gretchen.
Emily felt sorry for her friend.
Gretchen might have been a cute girl, if her face wasn’t a road-map of zits, and had been that way since the start of high school.
I’ve been there girl, Emily thought.
Emily, of course, slyly worked Martin into their conversation.
A conversation, which ran something like this:
He’s cute, and tall, but kind of weird. But, there’s something about him, not sure what it is, though. Although, he showed me a different side at the hospital, a side that she hoped she could bring out of him more (Emily kept the fact that she had jacked him off to herself—a girl should have some secrets, after all). She also, stressed that he had had a difficult life (the details of which she kept to herself), and that she hoped she could make him happy.
Emily had talked so much that Gretchen hadn’t even gotten a word in.
Gretchen finally spoke up, and told Emily that her mom was yelling at her to get off the phone, which sounded like a lie, because the bars didn’t close unit two in the morning, but whatever.
Emily hung up.
She sighed again, and then decided maybe she should watch a movie… but, one from her dad’s special collection that she wasn’t supposed to know about.
She popped in Big Dicks inside Little Brunette Chicks into the VCR, and began playing with herself—all the while imaging that the guy on screen was Martin, and girl was her.
At some point she dozed off, but even dreams were filled with sex.
She dreamed of the wolf again.
She stood in an absurdly large shower, naked from the waist down, but still wore a white T-Shirt (for even in her dreams she was self-conscious about the scars on her chest).
The water, however, had soaked through the shirt completely, and her naked breasts were visible under the wet T-Shirt.
She senses a presence behind her.
Large, leathery hands wrapped around her breasts, and teased her nipples through the wet, thin fabric of her shirt.
A warm, thick tongue lapped at the nape of her neck.
Then gasped, as the thing behind her, tore her shirt open. It now squeezed her exposed breasts hard, causing her whimper.
It bent her forward, and she could feel something long and hard slip in-between her legs.
Her eyes shot open. The first thing she saw was the TV, and looked just in time to see a guy blowing his load all over a girl’s face, before the credits rolled.
Emily leaned back.
The porno may be over, but she had never been so horny in her entire life.
But, before she could get to the promise land, she heard a knock on the front door.
She sighed in annoyance, hoping whoever was at the door would just go away.
Instead, the knocking became more persistent.
She sighed again, withdrawing her hand from her sweatpants.
She heard another knock, even louder this time—demanding to be answered.
Emily rolled her eyes.
God, she thought, I can’t even get my rocks off.
She stood up.
Wait a minute, she thought, how’s that even possible? I have no rocks to get off. I can even bust a nut.
She crossed the room to the door.
“Burst the dam!” She said out loud. “Yes, that’s much better.”
“God! A girl can’t even burst her dam around here!” She cried.
Emily looked through the peephole, and her heart soared.
Martin stood on the other side.
“Somebody’s getting lucky tonight,” she said, in a sly, sinful voice.
Hand on the door, she glanced over at the wall clock—surprised at how late it was.
“Teenagers,” she said, and giggled.
She opened the door.
“Hi,” she said, flashing him a big, dopey grin.
A grin which quickly faded, as it turned into wide-eyed surprised.
Like her, he dressed only in a T-Shirt and sweatpants.
Unlike her, he had a giant bulge that stretched his pants wide in front and continued up his shirt.
She backed away and gulped.
Her mind reeled.
She knew he that was big.
She had seen that first hand at the hospital, when she had jerked him off.
But, she hadn’t realized, until now, just how big he really was!
Emily turned away, and sort of laughed silently to herself.
She felt excited, but also a little afraid.
Was he even going to fit?
She licked her lips, and nervously said the first thing that came to her mind.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” he growled.
He violently grabbed her, and pushed her over the arm of the couch.
Oh god, Emily thought. It’s finally happening.
Not only that, but Emily really liked this new aggressive side of him, and her pussy gushed in response.
Her body shook, but she found it strange just how cold she felt, even as her face burned red.
She took a deep breath, as he pulled her pants and underwear down.
She held her breath, as his fingers touched bare skin.
His fingers were long, and felt leathery, as he wrapped his hands around her hips.
Suddenly, she grunted. It felt like she had just been punched in the gut.
He wasn’t gentle, and crudely forced himself inside of her.
It hurt a lot.
Thank god she been so wet, because she knew if she hadn’t, he would have torn her apart.
She wanted him to take it out, or at the very least be gentle with her. This was her first time, after all..
But all she could do was whimper, as he continued to have his way with her.
She endured this punishment, until she finally found her voice.
“Martin,” she said, her voice wavering. “Not so hard.”
“Please,” she added a few seconds later.
She found the strength to look over her shoulder at him, hoping that he would see her distress and stop.
To her horror she saw the truth.
He merely provided the instrument of her torment, but she was her own torturer.
Her body had betrayed her.
Her hips pushed back hard against him, driving him deeper.
“Fuck,” she moaned, and then surrendered to the self abuse, as her pussy gorged itself on her first taste of cock.
Her body tensed, while at the same time she lost completely control of herself, thrusting herself back in rapid, hungry bursts.
But emotionally, she was on the verge of tears.
She didn’t think it would be like this.
It was supposed to feel good, right?
But, it felt like she was being split in half.
Was it going to hurt every time they did it?
Her hips thrust back one finally time.
She screamed, as her dam burst.
Her body relaxed, and her pain vanished, replaced by the most intense pleasure she had ever known.
She drooled slightly, as a second wave of pleasure washed over her.
So that was sex, she thought. I love it!
Playing with herself, couldn’t even touch how good she felt now— even if it left her panting like a dog.
Her body felt numb, but all her senses felt heightened.
She felt so alive, and yet at the same time felt so vulnerable.
Then she felt him again—still so big and hard inside of her.
She gasped at the sensation, and then her lips curled into a knowing smile—they were going to do it again.
She yelped in surprised, now, as he swept her off her feet.
He carried her the rest of the way to the couch.
Then he crashed down on the cushion, causing a jolt to tear through her body. His thing pushing even deeper inside.
She cried out, a cry born out of shock, not pain.
He felt even bigger than before.
Her shock soon faded, as he kissed the nape of neck.
It was an intoxicating sensation. But, she quickly sobered up, when he pulled at the front of her shirt.
“No Martin,” she cried. “Not there.”
She didn’t mind him touching her breasts, but she wasn’t ready for him to see the scars on her chest, least he be repulsed.
“No, please, Martin,” she cried again, while at the same time trying to push his hand away. “Don’t.”
He ignored her, and tore her shirt open, exposing her secret.
She felt awkward.
Her scars were now on full display.
The scars started at her shoulders, and curved down toward her cleavage, forming something of a natural bra.
She felt ashamed.
Her acne had been so bad a couple of years back, that she had stopped wearing a bra altogether for a while.
The acne had gone, but the scars remained—both physically and mentally.
The girls had teased her mercilessly in the locker room, and now she felt less of a woman because it.
She quickly covered her bare breasts with her hands.
Martin leaned forward, and whispered something in her ear.
She wasn’t sure what he said, but found herself nodding, nonetheless.
Her awkwardness and shame vanished, replaced by a burning, itching sensation in her chest.
She dropped her hands to her sides.
Emily winced, the pain intense. It felt as if her skin was being all stretched out.
The wincing turned into open mouth surprise, as her toes curled—heralding the start of an orgasm that rocked her entire body.
This did little to satisfy her.
If anything, she wanted him more.
And Martin had plenty to give.
He started to fondle her breasts, it felt so good.
She yelped, as pinched her nipples.
Then she swallowed hard, amazed that her nipples were so sensitive.
He continued to fondle her, and that spurred her hips into motion, as she bounced up and down on his cock.
Another orgasm followed quickly, but she rode through it, surrendering completely to her inner whore.
She felt completely soaked. Her body dripped with sweat, and her cum ran in a torrent, down her legs.
The thought of stopping, even for a fraction of a second, filled her with dread.
Her worst fears came true a few seconds later, as he stood—lifting her up with him.
“No,” she panted, and at the same town tried to push herself back against him, so that she could continue her sinful ride.
But, he was stronger.
And, she was helpless, as he threw her face down onto the couch.
To her delight, he was still lodged deep inside of her. Something he proved now, as he slowly thrust forward.
“Yes,” she whimpered softly.
“Yes,” she cried, louder now, as the pace and strength of his thrusts increased.
“OH FUCK YES!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, for now he fucked her hard and fast from behind.
And, when she felt his big, hard thing throbbing and convulsing inside of her, she completely lost her mind—succumbing completely to her lust.
A voice at the back of her mind, pulled her back from the brink. A voice that commanded her to get on her knees.
Both her mind and body rebelled at the suggestion.
She couldn’t give this up—not now, not ever.
This is mine, she told herself. I need this. I need it. I’ll die without it.
“Do it!” The voice at the back of her mind roared.
Before she knew it, she had pushed him back, and fell on her knees in front of him.
His thing looked even bigger now, and she was amazed that he had even fit inside of her.
Amazement turned to regret, as now she felt so empty without him.
The thing before her throbbed.
It’s shaking, snake-like movements were hypnotic.
And, the puffy veins looked that encircled the shaft looked ready to burst.
It needed to be tamed.
It needed relief.
Her efforts to grab hold of it, however, proved at frustrating. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
He had done that to her, given her a case of the shakes, like a drug addict denied her fix.
But, he had made her feel so good, and now it was time to return the favor.
She willed herself to stop shaking, and grabbed hold of him with both hands.
Now that she had a hold of him, her grip became firm, as she tugged at the shaft.
His head titled back over the couch, and he groaned as she jerked him off.
His groaned sounded strange, though, more like an animal than a man.
Nevertheless, she continued to stroke him off.
His thing felt so heavy in her small, slender hands.
So heavy, she thought. And so full.
He came with a roar.
A roar so loud it made her jump, and she let him go.
A tidal wave burst out of him, splashing across her chest and face.
She shivered as his cum touched her skin.
It was cold.
Spent, he moaned in satisfaction.
Perverse thoughts flooded her mind, drowning out her concerns.
She dipped a finger in the gooey mess, and smeared it all over face and chest.
The coolness of it made her skin tingle.
“Mmm,” she murmured, closing her eyes.
She felt so naughty, and yet incredible close to him.
Sunlight filled the room.
As if coming out of a trance, her eyes fluttered open.
She looked down confused.
She was naked, and quickly covered her chest with her hands.
She tried to stand, but her legs felt shaky.
And, all she managed to do was sit/fall onto the couch.
When she saw Martin naked on the couch, it all came back to her.
“Oh,” she said.
Had they really made love all night?
Her mind reeled at the thought.
It all seemed like some crazy dream.
But, her nakedness and the soreness she fell between her legs, seemed to indicate that it had been real.
And, if even half of what she remembered from last night, were true, then “Making Love” happened to be a very Romantic way of putting what they had done together.
She snuggled up to Martin, loving the warmth of his naked body next to hers.
But the intimacy broke, a minute later, when she pulled away from him.
There was something different about him.
It took her a moment to figure out it.
It was his penis.
It was still a good size, even flaccid, but it hardly reached the unholy heights that it had last night.
Maybe it’s bigger at night, she thought.
That made it a certain kind of sense. Most people do have sex at night, after all, including her.
She snuggled up close to him again, pausing for a moment to kiss him on the cheek.
She knew she would have to wake him up eventually, as her dad would be home soon.
But, now she just wanted to bask in his warmth, and enjoy the quiet.
It proved to be a restless quiet, however, as her mind began to wander.
All her thoughts came back to the same point.
She bit her lip, and stared at his crotch.
Well, I should try it at least once, she thought. Just to see if he felt different during the day.
Her hand reached out to him.
Soon, she tugged at his shaft.
Emily didn’t want him to cum, at least not yet.
She just wanted to get him hard.
He stirred, blinking several times, and then looked around trying to get his bearing.
Emily felt obligated to remind him, and now straddled him.
She leaned forward, throwing her arms around his neck, and then pressed her lips against him.
And when she finally pulled back, both of them were grinning.
She reached down between her legs, and found to her delight that he was hard.
She guided him in, and then gasped in surprised.
It didn’t hurt this time, quite the opposite.
She whimpered softly, loving how he felt inside of her.
Again, another difference, he wasn’t as deep, and his thing didn’t have as much girth as before.
Her pussy didn’t care, however, and gushed as it welcomed him in.
And, as she began to bounce up and down on him, she didn’t care either.
It wasn’t the same as last night.
Last night was just about fucking, and getting themselves off.
He seemed to like fucking her from behind, and while she didn’t mind it that way, she liked it this way better—facing him.
She liked that he looked at her now, and that she could look at him.
This way felt more intimate.
She wondered if he felt the same way.
Probably not. Boys didn’t understand such things. They only understood the physical aspect of sex, not the emotions behind it.
Not that she didn’t enjoy the physical part of it too, which she showed him now.
Her movements become more frantic.
His moans matched her whimpers in a perfect chorus.
He suddenly grabbed her by the hips, and bucked, pushing himself deeper inside.
He cried out.
A few seconds later, she did too, feeling his hot (yes, hot this time) seed shooting inside of her.
She came at the sensation, leaving her putty in his hands.
“I love you,” she cried. Almost immediately she regretted it.
They hadn’t known each other for very long, and worried that he might be freaked out by her spontaneous outburst.
He put her fears to rest, pulling her close, and kissing her long and deep.
When he pulled away, it left her breathless—leaving her with no doubt in her mind that he loved her too.
She took his hands into hers, and looked down at him with a mischievous grin.
“Touch me here,” she whispered, guiding his hands to her breasts.
Her eyes went wide, as he gently squeezed her.
God they’re so sensitive, she thought. But out loud she cried out—her words unintelligible.
She found her voice, a few seconds later, when he kissed her nipples. “MOTHERFUCKER!” She screamed, as her toes curled.
She came hard. Her cum dripping down her legs, and all over his waist.
She wanted him again, bad!
She leaned back, her hips bouncing in a steady rhythm.
At first, she felt nothing—her pussy having gone numb.
Gradually, sensation returned, and that only increased her want for him.
Her pace quickened.
He groaned, underneath her, as she furiously rode him.
Violently, he reasserted himself, grabbing her hips, and pushing upward.
“Oh fuck!” She screamed in response.
He became more aggressive. His thrusts more vigorous, stretching her out—as he made her his bitch.
“Oh fuck… oh fuck… oh fuck…”
She screamed over and over again through quivering lips.
Her screams only encouraged him, as he fucked her hard and fast.
Both of them were soon on the edge.
She could feel his cock throbbing inside of her, and the sensation drove her pussy wild.
Her body suddenly straightened.
“Oh fuck!” She screamed. “My dad’s home!”
She jumped off of him.
“Get dressed!” She cried, throwing his clothes at him.
Then she reached for her clothes.
To her horror, she saw that her shirt had been torn to shreds, and her pants and underwear were stained with cum.
She cried out in frustration, and that’s when the smell hit her.
A heavy odor of sweat and musk that smelled like the beach, but not in a good way.
Emily knew she had maybe five minutes, while her dad filled out some paperwork in the car.
She cried out in frustration, again, and then dashed into the kitchen.
Emily returned a few seconds later, with a can of air fresher, spraying a generous helping in the air.
By then, Martin had gotten dressed, and that was good, until she saw the large bulge in the front of his pants.
Emily screamed in frustration a third time, and pulled him into the kitchen.
She told him to sit down behind the table.
“Stall him,” she commanded.
“Wait… what?” He asked.
“Just do it,” she cried.
“Can’t I just go home?” He asked.
“No!” She told him, with such force that he backed slightly away.
She rushed upstairs.
Before Emily came back down, she decided to practice her cover story.
“I thought I heard someone outside, and I got really scared, and Martin was sweet enough to keep me company, until I went to bed. But, Martin totally slept on the couch, though.”
It was solid, and she thought it would fool her dad—unless Martin said something stupid.
Emily put on a pair of old sweat pants that really didn’t flatter her at all.
She followed the pants with an unflattering old T-Shirt, with a faded cartoon monkey on it.
Emily hoped that she projected an air of innocence about her.
Heart racing, Emily started downstairs, but stopped half way down, when she heard her dad and Martin laughing.
“I can’t believe the second Nightmare on Elm Street is your favorite,” Martin said.
“Well in my defense, that was the first horror movie I rented from the video store,” her dad said. “So I guess it just stuck with me.”
“Well Freddy is pretty good in that one,” Martin offered.
“I don’t need your pity,” her dad answered, laughing.
“But what about all that gay stuff in the movie?” Martin asked.
“Totally went over my head,” her dad answered, laughing again.
Emily entered the kitchen, yawned and stretching her arms up in the air—pretending as if she had just gotten out of bed.
The boys didn’t even notice.
“It’s not like today,” her dad said, “where someone will do a two hour analysis online, just discussing all the homosexuality in Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2. More innocent times, I guess, when I was a kid.
“I just can’t get over it,” Martin said. “I never heard anyone say Part 2 was their favorite. Part 3, I could understand, but Part 2…”
Her dad just shrugged.
Emily slid a bowl of cereal in front of each of them.
They still didn’t notice her (much to her annoyance), and began to eat.
“Friday the 13th Part 2 is the best one, though,” Martin said with a mouthful of cereal.
“On that we can agree,” her dad mumbled, also with a mouthful of cereal.
Were they even going to acknowledge her?
“No one ever talks about that one,” her dad continued, shoving another spoonful of cereal in his mouth.
“It’s probably because Jason didn’t have the hockey mask in that one,” Martin offered, and stuffed more cereal in his mouth.
Her dad nodded, swallowing, before shoving more cereal in his mouth.
“Love that shrine to Jason’s mom in that one,” Martin added, in-between bites.
“They don’t even mention his mom in any of the other sequels,” her dad said, dipping his spoon into the bone again.
“Jason Goes to Hell…” Martin mumbled, chowing down on some shredded wheat.
“Martin please,” her dad answered. His cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk, as he chewed his cereal. “The only reason, I own that one is because of the scene at the end.”
“Nightmare is the better series,” Martin said, his cheeks also puffed up like a chipmunk.
Her dad took another spoonful, and then said, “I agree, but back in the innocent days before the internet, I liked Friday a lot better for obvious reasons.”
Emily started at them completely baffled as to what they were talking about, until she looked down at her chest.
Boobs, she thought, of course, what else would men talk about?
Her dad dropped his spoon into the empty cereal bowl in front of him.
“Hey Emily,” he said. “Your boyfriend is pretty cool.”
She was momentarily taken aback.
Boyfriend, she thought, turning the word over and over again in her mind. It felt almost surreal, but it was true she had a boyfriend now.
She smiled shyly, but found she couldn’t even look Martin in the eye.
“But,” her dad said. “I’m afraid Martin has to go home now, as you are still grounded.”
“Really, Dad,” she cried. “Still?”
Her dad nodded.
“God,” she said exasperated. “Well, how long is that going to last?”
Her dad thought for a moment.
“Until tomorrow,” he said.
“Oh,” she answered. “Well that’s not so bad.”
Her dad smiled, and then got up.
“I’m going to bed, wake me up when dinner is ready.” He said, kissing her on the forehead. Then he turned and headed upstairs.
Alone with her “boyfriend” Emily couldn’t think of anything to say. Up until now, most of their communication had been of a more physical nature.
Thinking about it for a few seconds, Emily came to the conclusion that there was no reason to stop now.
Martin was almost done with his cereal.
Her curiosity aroused, Emily decided to take a quick peak under the table.
The bulge was still there.
Well, she thought, I can’t really let him go home like this. That would be cruel.
A wicked smile spread across her face.
Emily crawled under the table.
Above her, she heard his spoon clink into the bowl.
Her hands pulled his sweat pants down.
His hands grabbed the edge of the table, gripping it tight, as her tongue snaked its way down his shaft.
Emily couldn’t believe she was still so horny. But she wanted him badly, wanted him to shove his big, hard thing into her tiny slit, again.
But, she didn’t trust herself. She would probably end up screaming her head off if they did that again.
Not only that, but once they started, she might not able to stop.
His body tensed.
He wasn’t going to last much longer, and his thing now throbbed in her mouth.
She was actually surprised he had lasted this long, given how eagerly they had made love before.
Emily couldn’t fit him all the way in her mouth, but she sucked as much as she could.
Her efforts were soon reward, as his cock twitched, and then burst—filling her mouth with protein.
A perfect breakfast, and she was able to swallow most of it, with only a tiny amount dripping onto her shirt.
Emily thought it would either be sweet or foul, but his cum really didn’t have much of a taste to it at all.
She was kind of disappointed
He scooted back in his chair, and then stood, pulling up his sweatpants in the process.
She followed suit, crawling out from under the table, and then stood.
Emily suddenly felt faint, and began to slip.
He caught her before she fell, and pulled her close.
She smiled up at him.
“Guess you wore me out,” she said.
An awkward, breathy chuckle followed, as she realized that this was the first time she had said anything to him since last night.
Emily leaned in to kiss him, but then pulled back.
If she kissed him, she may not be able to let him go.
Her heart already ached, for she knew their time together would soon come to an end.
Another awkward chuckle followed.
Well, she thought, I’ve already kissed him in a much more intimate place, so we’re good.
Although, she thought now, he still needs to kiss me down there. Fair is fair.
Her face got hot, blushing at how naughty her thoughts were—and for once was glad her scars hid her shame.
She stepped away from him.
“You were an animal last night,” she said, and curled her fingers in a claw.
“Grrr,” she growled out of the side of her mouth.
Emily started up the steps backwards, her hand still in a claw.
“Grrr,” she said again.
But, she misjudged the step behind her, and promptly fell on her butt.
Emily scrambled to her feet, and then laughing, she rushed up stairs.
TO BE CONTINUED...