Lydia McRae Plays Chess

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Larry’s text came into Lydia’s phone at 9 pm; he knew she would have to sneak out to meet him; it was part of his plan. He wanted to humiliate her, fuck her, and leave her crying as he had before.

The thought made him hard.

“Time to come to daddy, kitten,” he sent.

“It’s too late! Seriously!”

“Too late to hide what you’ve done, cunt. Same place. No undies. Wear a tee shirt, I want to see your nipples. Thirty minutes.”

Lydia checked her reflection in the mirror, patted her hair, touched up her make-up, and smiled to herself. This was going to be an interesting night. Twenty five minutes later she pulled up to the now familiar spot in the park. She wore cutoffs and a Crimson Tide tee shirt, sans underclothes, as directed. A little less than usual, she thought and a little more.

Larry stepped up to her window.

“Good, you at least had enough sense to wear the right clothes,” he growled, as he shot his hand through the opening and painfully grabbed her left breast. She seized his arm to protect herself, but he found her pulling him inward. “She’s really getting into this!” He thought.

His mouth went dry as the business end of a little gold plated Colt .25 poked up at him. She continued to tightly hold his wrist.

“Don’t look now, but I’m the one with the gun, shit head. My Dad thinks this 1908 model is a collector’s item. I think it’s a loaded weapon. And I’m not interested in knee capping you. Now hand me your gun, butt first, slowly.”

He complied, totally astonished at the turn of events. Once she had his gun, she opened the door and stepped out. She threw his hand down and showed small white teeth in an orthodontically perfect row.

“Now, cousin, let’s talk about business. You have a video that shows you abusing yourself in front of a helpless teenage girl. I have a video that shows you orally raping the same poor child. Which would the police be more interested in, in your opinion?”

“Let’s not get stupid here, D. The whole world would get to see both tapes. Your Dad….”

“Doesn’t give a shit.”

“Your menderes escort Mom….”

“Drunk.”

“Your friends at school, then. Surely you would rather this all just be a bad dream?”

“But it’s not. It’s a fantasy. A nice cock that I can play with whenever I wish, however I wish…. Gee, it sounds great to me!”

“You’re a stupid little freckled red head. You gonna feed me, house me? I have to work for a living.”

“I intend for you to work. I have a trust fund that can handle your paltry needs. And I’m a bitch to work for. I promise you’ll earn everything I give you.”

“This is crazy! No teenager has a captive gigolo!”

“Hey, you’re right. I could pimp you out! Good one, Larry,” she grinned.

“Now, I don’t want to have to shoot you, or fool with toting a weapon everywhere, so I want a better blackmail. We’re going to make another video, and I expect you to act well.”

“I don’t understand. I don’t like any of this.”

“You don’t have to like it, kitten,” she said, bouncing his words back at him. “What’s going to happen is this: You’re going to point that 9 mil without bullets at me and tell me loudly and clearly that you’re going to fuck my ass… the cruder you say it, the better. I’m going to cry and scream and beg, but you’re going to be relentless and unforgiving, just like you were with the blow job Tuesday. Then you fuck me. That clear, perv-face?”

“Crystal. I just don’t understand”

“You don’t have to understand either, kitten dick. You will be able to perform, won’t you? My tight and juicy rear end enough to keep you hard?”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to do anyway. You don’t need to force me,” he leered and salaciously blew her a kiss.

“Yeah, but you’ll know I want it… You’re not humiliating me, or using me; I’m in charge.”

“Aren’t you a little worried I might hurt you? I mean, anal…?”

“Oh, yesterday I put a stick of real butter in the freezer. Before I came here, I stuffed it up my butt. I’m slicker than goose shit back there, escort menderes if you’ll pardon my language.

Now do your part. I’m keeping my baby over here away from the camera. I really don’t want to shoot you in the balls, OK?”

So in a weird parody of his fantasy, Larry held his unloaded Glock to her head and demanded she drop her shorts and bend over the bumper. He let his own pants fall to his ankles, figuring a good show demanded a view of all his junk, while leaving them on seemed more callous.

Holding her hair again, he announced loudly, “Now, bitch, I’m going to ram my cock up your little virgin asshole. It will probably hurt a lot, but I don’t care. Deal with it!”

“Please, mister. You’ve already degraded me so much. I feel like I’m your dirty whore. Can’t I just do that…. disgusting mouth thing again? Please, I’ll make it good for you.”

“No, you stupid cunt. I’m going to fuck every hole you have, one at the time. After I cum in your ass maybe I’ll let you suck the shit off my dick… if you beg.”

“But it’s so wrong! Please, you can even…take my virginity… I’m just so afraid. Don’t hurt me, please.” Tears made her mascara run, and snot slimed her upper lip.

She’s a natural actress, Larry thought. It didn’t matter, because the sight of her smooth butt cheeks and her little rear dimples as her shorts fell to the ground put him in the moment. His cock surged as if he were really forcing her to do this. Pushing his cock-head into her crack, he verified the butter lube, and indeed slid smoothly to her tight sphincter.

“Oh, God, please! Have pity, mister, I beg you! Don’t push it in me there!”

With that cue, Larry punched into her slippery hole. It only took a second, and he felt little true resistance. Her response did not match what he felt, however.

“Ahhh!” She screamed at about 100 decibels. That probably hurt her ears more than her anus, he thought. “Dear God, have mercy on me! You are ripping me apart. Oh, the pain, the pain.”

Larry almost lost it then, as he flashed menderes escort bayan to the old Fantasy Island TV series, and little Hervé Villenchaize shouting “The Plane, the Plane!”

But, emphasis on butt, Lydia’s ass wrapped around his cock with overwhelming heat and warmth. Never had his penis been so enfolded in slippery wetness with the grip of a giant’s fist. Never had it been so hot. He loved anal, but next to her every other rectum became a hole in a wall, a dry pipe, an empty eye socket in a desert skull.

If butter caused this, he needed stock in a dairy! She kicked him on the side of his foot, and he refocused.

“Owww! OK, slut, how do you like being fucked up the butt? Can you feel me tearing your hole? You can shit 2x4s when I finish. You may never walk again!”

“You’re killing me! Oh, Jesus, oh Mary, take away this pain! I feel as if you have pushed a fence post into me! Your cock is too big, please, please take it out!”

“Never, whore. Quit trying to wiggle away, I’m not going to stop until I shoot my sperm in your guts!”

“The pain, the stretching, it’s, it’s….” she glanced backwards, catching his eyes. “It’s turning me on.” She squeezed on his dick. “Faster, dammit.”

By then Larry was too far gone to follow any script. His manly meat had turned to steel, and he gasped for breath as he pistoned in and out of her tiny tight slick orifice.

“Oh God, I can’t hold back! You are so hot! I’m cumming!” With that cry his balls clenched like boxer’s fists and his syrup infused her back passage with his potable male secretions; filled her and overflowed so that his nectar ran down his thighs and hers, matting their pubic hairs into fungible masses.

He staggered back, dropped to his knees and sat down awkwardly bare assed on the dirt. She slumped to her knees as well, oily treacle still dripping from her anus.

“My God, Lydia. That was incredible!”

“I know. For me as well.”

“Kinda fucks your blackmail, doesn’t it?”

“Who cares! I don’t have any bullets in my gun, anyway. But you have to let me be in control, OK?”

“Shut up skank! I call the shots,”

Both too breathless to settle the rules, they just argued in muted tones until they could stand and pull up their pants, then pecked each other briefly and headed to their respective camps to plot their next moves.

Game on.

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