*Ding!*
Holding the ‘door open’ button, I let the girl in a cute, cartoon t-shirt and black, ankle-length maxi skirt exit first, before following her down one flight of stairs. There, she perched her elbows onto the right-angle bends of the railing while I put my bag into a corner, well out of the way.
As I took up my position behind her, she moved her lower-body two steps back, into an almost-90° bend. I then gently put my hands on her waist while hiking her skirt up, into a bundle that draped over her boney hips.
As I wrestled my erection out, the sight of cane-marks across her butt cheeks ached my heart, so much so that I went a little limp. Undeterred, I aimed it between her thighs, swiping across her pussy no more than twice to know how wet she already was.
A playful wriggle of her ass, then lured me out of a daze, bringing my hips into the crack where my manhood slid not-so-easily into her moist opening. Not only did her pelvic bones clamped me down like a vice, I was stretching her soft vaginal tissues like a condom over my dick. It wasn’t until I was halfway out did she ‘snapped’ away from my penis, tingling my senses from that single reaction.
Over that brief, invisible instance, a vacuum was formed in the gap between us (inside of her), sucking me back in to pry those ‘vice’ apart, again. Was it pleasurable? Sure, but it came at the cost of a slight ache, which kind of extended my stamina.
Seeing her writhe and twist in ecstacy, the small discomfort disappeared before I realised. In time, I increased my pace to turn her sighs into moans, satisfaction guaranteed by her smiling face from a sideway glance.
Holding her tiny waist firmly with both hands, I began to ram faster and deeper into her, unconsciously triggering some involuntary, physical response that caused her to leak uncontrollably. Lubricated by the extremely-viscous, unknown fluid, I quickly lost myself in her pussy, pounding her mindless as my hips went berserk for the painfully-pleasurable sensation of sliding through those ‘closing doors (her bones)’.
(She moaned) ‘NGH.. NGH.. NGH.. ‘
Her joyful voice gradually brought me back to her reality, where I was reminded of her constant, almost-on-a-daily-basis beating. And no one, not even her, could expect her body to suddenly translate that physical pain into a sexual stimulation.
As she once shared, ‘masturbation’ was her only escape she had from her abusive family. At some point in her inescapable fate, she found some meaning in life through pleasure, spending most of her waking hours reliving the habit of her younger self. To cope with those long hours of chores she had to do, a pencil cap would be left in her pussy to provide some perk-me-up from exhaustion.
On the night we first met, she was locked out of her house for however long her dad wanted to be intimate with her mum. It was at the void deck of our block she broke down halfway through her recount, and cleverly preyed on my well-intended consolation, to relieve her sexual urge. From then, she only stayed home long enough to be caned, before seeking me out for the ‘cure’.
With no warning, the wordless girl then slapped a hand over her own mouth as her knees gave way, to an orgasm that sent her head backwards onto my shoulder. I immediately slipped my hands under her shirt and massaged her breasts lovingly, sensitising her body further to tighten her vaginal walls around my manhood. Those blunt edges of her bones then vacated my balls, like a tube of toothpaste, emptying me completely on my outward-jerk.
She kept her feet apart as cum backflowed out of her, into a puddle of creamy nectar onto the floor. Out of gratitude, she proceeded to clean me up with her mouth, swallowing whatever my cock was coated in.
Giving me a blank stare while holding my cock loosely, it was as if she wanted more out of my still-hard erection. Tempted by her desirable, susceptible expression, I lifted her up and brought her to the steps, where she laid on with open legs.
Towering over her in missionary, I served her my cock and began making graceful love to her, eyes telling of our unconventional lust. I knew she had picked up on something when she put her hands on my face, pulling me in to her luscious lips.
From that single kiss we couldn’t deny ourselves of, we found a deeper meaning in our connection. Not once did we break contact, as I continued plunging my softer, more mallable cock into her, somewhat elated by how little it hurt in the second round. Spurred by love, she was undoubtedly more enjoyable, compared to the unsympathetic frustration, hunger and self-hate from before.
I assumed, that her teary, curved eyelids, was her way of saying thanks, for showing her the cheerier side of sex. As her mouth gasped repeatedly in a voiceless scream, I realised that I was too, at my limit inside her unforgiving pussy.
Giving her an accidental, constipated look, she forced a smile before wrapping her fingers around the base of my shaft, to calm me down, and to also guide my juice-covered sausage out. A split second after I pulled out, her body began to shiver progessively, giving her the countdown to find a dock for my finale.
All of a sudden, she stretched a hand over her groin as her body unleashed the long-awaited orgasm, leaving me to hold her head still as my cock moved in and out of her pretty lips. Seconds later, it was my turn to shudder, as a second, warm load dribbled out of my tip. Without a flinch, she took all of it down her throat and showed me her ‘devotion’.
By then, I had shrunk as small as I have ever seen, completely satisfied with the result of our hardwork. Once we cleaned everything up, I made my way home, only to receive a shock when she jumped out from behind (me).
Beyond the puppy-eyed look, playful pouted lips, I knew that the danger she faced sleeping outside was greater than at my place. After a shower, we spent the night in bed, listening to her life story.
Since young, she has been taught to touch her own erogenous spots until it became an addiction. Although it felt good, higher education soon brought enough words into her vocabulary to question her dad about his ‘teachings’. When he made sense of the danger he has knowingly put himself in, things finally fell apart, and very quickly so.
While he could not stop her from schooling, he took every opportunity to punish her. At first, he made sure she heard his sexual dominance over her mother, from making unnecessarily-loud groans, to amplifying dirty, smacking noises motivated by sheer violence.
Her instinctive inquisitiveness then led her onto the Internet where she scoured for pornography, which couldn’t be a better reason for her dad to beat the crap out of her. Conflicted by the fear for his own safety, he began chasing her out of the house whenever he needed his sexual relief. Because of that, she had already spent countless nights sleeping in various parts of the block.
On a more controversial note, it was also her misfortune, that she had found solace, in a man ten years older than her, who honestly couldn’t mind fulfiling every sexual fantasies of a blossoming young lady whose body was taking real form. The availability and convenience of a fully-matured, appropriately-competent cock, only prolonged her helpless addiction of an unhealthy lifestyle.
Food for thought;
Could she ever be saved? If there exist some possibilities of salvation, what would ‘recovery’ mean for her? What more (or less) would she have to go through?
Or, would it better for her to live out her life in oblivion, while hoping, praying that a newer, ever-improving society will reduce the number of individuals exposed to such fates?