Stolen Lust

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A husband rapes his young neighbor and carries on a three year affair with her.

Submitted: July 23, 2016

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Submitted: July 23, 2016

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Chapter 1

:All characters in this story are completely fictional. In no way is rape or spousal abuse condoned, and this story is nothing more than fantasy: 

Now, this is gonna be kind of a tricky story to tell. But after about five decades, I feel as if I've lived a full life.Amazingly I outlived all my friends but I made a promise about 45 or 46 years ago to my wife, may her soul rest in peace, that I'd never speak of it, that I'd take this to the grave, but here I am, nearing my 90th birthday, so let the cards fall where they may. Death is knocking at my door, I have nothing else to lose when you think about it.  When I was still a fairly young man, I raped my neighbor's 14 year old daughter. But let's not get too ahead in the story, I'll get there eventually, if Shayla doesn't come sneaking up behind my back to make sure I took my meds (I didn’t).

My story begins back around 1930, which is as far back as I can recall vividly. My parents were Jewish immigrants, and we had just moved into a small shabby one room apartment in Brooklyn, New York. We moved in with nothing but the clothes on our backs. I'll be bluntly honest we had roaches, the walls were cracked, and my dad couldn't have been making more than $5 a week. Though he was a drunk and going through a deep depression, I was never aware of this until my late teens. I guess I'd be depressed too if I was balding prematurely and barely made enough to care for my family. He was a short, mean, overweight man but he did take care of my mother and I. For that I am forever thankful. My mother on the other hand, was an angel on earth. If Annette Hanshaw and Victoria Lake magically had a baby, it would be my dear mother. Truth be told she was such a kind spirit I always wondered how my father landed her. He always reminded me of a fat Mr. Drummond from Diff'rent Strokes.

 But I guess that's life, hey? I thought the city was pretty neat. I was young, and to me it was the city of dreams! Celebrities, lights, big buildings. It lived true to being "the city that never sleeps". Heck even a young Jew like me got to wallow in the glory of it.  I even got to meet Al Jolson while living there. Well, I shined his shoes, but still. I also caught a glimpse of Cab Calloway while he was getting a taxi. Neither man really paid much attention to me, they probably couldn't pick me out of a lineup if I stole $10 from them an hour after I met them, but I took no offense. I probably wouldn't pay much attention to some star-struck kid yanking my tailcoats either.

I grew up pretty sheltered, rarely leaving my shabby little apartment. But this was by choice, since we were living in a shitty area I wanted to stay out of trouble.  I consider myself extremely lucky to never have been drafted into the war, I witnessed my neighbors and many others mourn the loss of their sons to meat grinders in Europe and the Pacific. I actually never really signed up for the Selective Service, which is probably how I dodged that bullet.  The paperwork must have gotten “lost” after I did a little flirting with the head nurse.

But keeping this between me and you, war scared the hell out of me. Some men are made to fight and others are made to love, and I fall square into the latter category. I grew into quite the ladies man, by 14, I’d lost my virginity to my 30 year old neighbor, Gloria. She was a skinny Irish blonde, she had the cutest accent and tightest pussy for a mother of three. I always had a new excuse helping Gloria move furniture, with groceries, babysitting, anything under the sun. In reality, I spent hours between her legs while her husband was hard at work as a construction worker. I felt kinda bad for him, but it wasn't really my problem. What do you expect when you marry a whore? He could never satisfy her, so I had no issue filling those shoes and that pussy for him.

By 1945, the war was over and the world was a happier place for it. Fast forward  five years, I'm a 25 year old, newly married man living in the suburbs of California. Not bad, hey? Well, truth be told I decided I needed to be independent, get away from the parents. What better place to move? The other side of the country! I had a childhood friend, Gene-he was my main man-we decided to go together. He was chubby and curly haired, always reminded me of Fred from I Love Lucy-not as bald but just as fat. He didn't get much love from the ladies, of course. But he was my best friend, so I was always trying to throw some pussy his way.  I didn’t move just to get out of the shitty neighborhood. Honestly, I think I just wanted a change of scenery and to be out from under the thumb of my parents. Putting together practically every cent we had, we scrimped enough for two bus tickets.  Honestly, the bus trip was miserable-it took us 5 days in killer heat to reach California, but it was all worth it. No more of mother's nagging or father's drunken rages.  I might have been on my last dime, but I think someone musta been looking out for me. Maybe my grandmother, maybe a guardian angel. Whoever it was, I thank them dearly.

 I shared a cramped one bedroom apartment in Compton with Gene. He footed most of the bill, so he, of course, got the one room while I took over the sofa.

Compton was a crappy area, not so different from Brooklyn, really, but I loved it.  He really wasn't around often. He worked any odd job he could to stay on his feet. Honestly, wondering around this strange city excited me.  That’s how I ran into my soon to be wife. She was this beautifully thin Italian girl. She stood about 4'11, with long black hair to her waist. She loved waist belts and sailor pants. Funny thing is, I didn't really run into her, she ran into me. With a 1948 Oldsmobile. I wasn't too badly hurt, but it got my attention, that’s for sure.

Chapter 2

I was knocked out for maybe one or two seconds tops. I was lucky-I only suffered a couple scrapes and bruises, the most permanent damage was some stubborn dirt on my suit. I wasn't hit too hard-clearly. I opened my eyes to see what I thought was the silhouette of a crying angel, ready to carry my limp body off to the gates of heaven. But no, she kneels down next to me, slightly lifting my head and biting her cute little red lipstick covered bottom lip. "Are you okay, mistah? I'm so sorry!" She said uncertainly.

"Oh, I'm alright now," I replied with a sly grin. She laughed as she saw the look in my eyes as she helped me to my feet. She looked cute next to my big frame, I wasn't a fat or huge man, I stood maybe, what, 6’3” while this little femme fatale weighed maybe 100 lbs soaking wet. I’d dare to compare myself to Guy Madison, we were about the same in height and size. But personally, I thought I resembled a young Gary Cooper more, with my charming smile and mysteriously alluring look, or maybe that's just what the gals told me. I took in the sight of this little Italian princess in front of me, from her New Jersey accent to her hips that just shouted "I'm ready to bear children.” Her sailor pants hugged her in all the right places.  "Well, hey, you hit me, can I at least get a name?"

She giggled a little before giving me a little frown. I could tell she didn't like that comment too much, I think it made her feel pretty guilty. I could read it in her light almond eyes. "Hey, it’s alright, sweetheart, I'm Solomon. Don't pity me, I shoulda looked both ways." I said to calm her down.

 I could see she felt as though I’d scolded her, which wasn't my intention, of course. Now, if she’d been a man, I would have played a different tune. She lightened up a bit, letting her shoulders relax. She had some nice tits, I noticed. She reminded me a little of a sweater girl. She had to at least be a heavy C, those puppies were just ready to pop out of her green sweater and play. "I'm Isabella, it’s nice to meet you, Mistah Solomon.”

I laughed. "No, please, Mr. Solomon is my father. My friends call me Sal."

 "Well, alright, Sal" She reached out her hand to shake mine. I rejected it, reaching down and kissing her hand before she could pull away, she blushed. "Well,we probably look a bit silly, doing this in the middle of the street. At least let me give you a ride where you were heading?" She gestured to her new Oldsmobile. I agreed, getting in the passenger seat, and though I wasn't too keen on letting a broad drive me around, I let this little pistol slide. Her car still had the new car smell, you know, like pinewood and all the trimmings. The seats were black leather with red stitching. Nice taste in cars for a dame, I thought to myself. After maybe 20 minutes of friendly conversation, we pulled up to my tiny apartment, and I began to frantically pray that Gene wasn't there. "Would you like to come up?" I asked.

She hesitated, unsure what to say. "That sounds nice and all, Sal, but I oughta get going.”

I couldn't let her get away so easily. No sir. "Well, all due respect, you hit me. I insist you at least sit and have a cup of tea.” She agreed, and now I had her right where I wanted her. Whether I had to guilt her into it or not, she was mine. We spent maybe two hours just sitting and chit chatting before it got so late that I suggested she spend the night. Small talk really wasn't my goal here, and I think she knew that.

Chapter 3

Isabella, of course, being the classy little thing she was, sadly declined my offer even after my pitiful begging. Truth be told, I'd been in California maybe three months and haven't had a lick of tail since I left Brooklyn. It’s hard to pick up girls when you're broke and don't know a soul. Most skirts aren't really interested in a broke guy with no money, no wheels, and no sense of direction. No Gloria in sight nor the high school girls I could usually trick outta their stockings. My hand could only satisfy me for so long. I craved something wet and tight, hell I was thinking of visiting the folks for a week just for a chance to fool around with the neighborhood broads. I might have been 23, but high school dames were my weakness, sweeter than chocolate. So fresh and eager to please, give them a cheap piece of jewelry, a few kind words, and they would give you anything, anywhere you wanted. But Isabella was different, she wasn't gonna give in so easy. She had class and elegance, she was the kind of girl fellas like me dream of breaking and turning into real sluts, the real "bring home to mama" type. Though she would have made a nice notch to add to my belt, she was sweet and honest. She reminded me of my mother, there’s no way I could have a heart and pull out my black book tricks on her. I actually could see myself making a honest woman out of her. I decided right there I'd be a perfect gentleman to her, the kind she deserved.  But I didn't let her leave before forcing her to write down her number. As I watched those lovely hips walk right out my front door, all I could think to myself was"Damn!" I courted Isabella for a few weeks before mentioning her to mother. Though my mother only stood 4'3” ,the idea of mentioning I was dating a girl even an inch short of her expectations shot fear down to my very core.  Mother always pictured me with a sweet little Jewish girl, not some Italian Catholic from New Jersey of all places, so she was not happy, to say the least. I guess it’s not a shock that mother wasn't pleased with my new Juliet, no matter how caring and sweet this Romeo was, he clearly wasn't catching a break. But I didn't care, because, surprisingly, Isabella's parents fell for my charms too, and they adored me. Isabella tried her best to warm mother's heart, even going so far as to have chocolate and flowers delivered to my parent's ratty old apartment. I couldn't help but shake my head in pity for the delivery boy. Nobody really sends gifts to the area in Brooklyn we lived in, maybe a telegram here and there. Too dangerous. I was a ladies man, not usually a favorite of parents, but Belle's parents wanted to take me home like some lost puppy. They even did me the favor of setting me up with a new wardrobe and making sure me and Gene had plenty food in the apartment.

Belle's parents had what we call "old money"-fortunes passed down to each generation to enjoy and be born with a silver spoon in their mouth. I normally hate these kinds of people. Belle's mother was the typical rich middle aged broad. She always wore long white gloves, expensive pearls and diamonds, plus she smoked heavy, always with one of those cigarette holders I see gals with. I'd never seen a woman smoke so gracefully. Her father was short, fat and balding, nothing special. Not unlike my own, really, but upjumped and with a couple manners. But to my shock they were some of the sweetest people you'd ever wanna meet. Gene surely appreciated my new love interest, free food and goods for the apartment came out of the deal on his end. My sweetie was the best thing to ever happen to me. I hadn't got so much as more than a peck on the lips our whole relationship, but I knew I had to remain a gentlemen. I was suffering from a terrible case of blue balls, but I cared for Isabella far too much to push her out of her comfort zone. If she wanted to wait ‘til marriage, so be it. I wanted to move my Italian princess in, but no way I could without a diamond on her finger. Besides, I assumed she wasn't too excited to share a sofa with me. A few loans and a false name later, I finally proposed to my darling with a beautiful rock. Her parents might have been loaded, but I had far too much pride to ask them for help in buying the diamond that would grace Belle's finger. I’d rather get her that diamond myself, even if that meant doing it illegally. Gene was convinced I was only in a rush to get in her pants, maybe he was right, but there was no denying the feelings I had for her. I’d never thought a woman could make me feel this way. Back in Brooklyn when we were maybe 16 we made a bet that the chump to marry first would pay the other $20. Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think Gene would win the bet, but he got his money with no hard feelings. The months went on as I continued to court my fiance. The year was 1950, my love and I finally were married. The wedding was beautiful, huge, and, of course, Catholic. My parents refused to attend, despite Belle's parents offering to foot the bill to fly them both out first class. I was sad not to see them but Dad did give me a call. He was never much of an emotional one, but he couldn't stop saying how proud and happy he was for me. He swore that he would write us daily and call when he could, even finishing with an "I love you.” That was the first time I’d heard those words come out of his mouth, but he was genuine. I could tell he meant every word. It truly meant the world to me, mother even forced a couple kind words out of her mouth in the background. That was all I needed to complete the special day, despite a huge wedding full of strangers, with strange groomsmen, even. Gene was my best man, my father loved me and my mother learned to accept Isabella. I was truly the happiest I can remember ever being, but our wedding night was truly one to remember. 

Chapter 4

Isabella's parents were generous and loving as I mentioned, so they even paid for this nice house that Belle and I now call home. 3 stories, 4 bedrooms in the upscale area of Beverly Hills. Must have cost them a mint, but I never saw a bill. Belle's father got me a nice job at his company, I was finer than frog hair split four ways.  I couldn't believe my luck. I practically dragged my new bride into our freshly furnished castle. The furniture had all been imported from France and I drove a brand new convertible, no one could tell me anything. When I carried the love of my life to our master bedroom, she was still wearing her gorgeous wedding dress. It was virgin white with blue stitching, lined with pearls. I still can't believe her mother would pay $500 for a dress her daughter would only sport once, but honestly, at the time, I wasn't paying much attention to this lovely dress. Now that I think back, she truly looked like a princess. No sex in nearly three years, I had this drop dead gorgeous bombshell who was all mine, sitting on the bed in front of me. So that dress was coming off, even if I had to cut it off with our new set of kitchen knives. Isabella must have seen the lust in my eyes, she looked terrified sitting on our circular bed with fresh blue silk sheets.

I took off the tuxedo jacket. "Don't worry my love, I'll take my time with you alright? Just relax and trust me, now turn around.” She looked as surprised as if I had just smacked her, or something. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand "I was serious. Turn around, Belle!" I spat at my wifey loudly. Never had I raised my voice to her, she didn't know how to respond, but she wasn't about to disobey me. So she stood up, turning around to comply with my demands. As I hurriedly unzipped her dress, it fell to the floor as though it weighed nothing. I took no time at all unfastening her bra and sliding her panties to the ground. I turned her around and gently pushed her on the bed. I was gonna enjoy this, fucking her hard enough to make up for all those years of no sex, and she knew it. I swear she was like a deer caught in headlights. I was going to fuck the very life out of her, but instead I took my time undressing myself, letting my naked bride see my bare body for the first time. The way she eyed me, I could tell she was enjoying what she saw. That was all the encouragement I needed from her. After flashing my abs, I made it to my slacks and boxers, finally exposing my circumcised 9 inch cock to Belle for the first time. She was about to say something, not that I really cared, when I silenced her with a kiss. Working my tongue into her mouth, massaging her tongue with mine. Her muscles relaxed as I massaged her breasts, kneading her left nipple before finally taking the right one in my mouth.  I heard her let out a light moan, that was all the feedback I needed to know I was doing a damn good job. I lowered myself, spreading her legs with my hands, kissing both her thighs. I looked up to see a nice soaked pearl in front of my eyes, just ready for me to take. I got closer, licking just the tip of her clit, probing just enough to make her whole body quake."Wait, babe don't do that, that’s dirty." I growled in protest, but went with her wishes, no matter how badly I wished to taste her. I positioned myself between her legs, kissing her neck and playing with her full breasts. I wanted her as calm and wet as possible before I finally deflowered that little virgin pussy. I teased her with the tip before pushing in slightly. She tensed up instantly, and I could tell this wasn't going to be pleasant for her.  So I decided to get it over with quickly for her own sake, and she never saw my next move coming. I took what little of my cock had made its way inside of her out, covered her mouth with mine. Before she could react I grabbed both her hands. I freed her mouth from mine. I plunged myself in her as hard as I could,  and she let out the loudest, most earsplitting, blood boiling scream I've ever heard. I felt my cock drenched in her maiden’s blood, but I couldn't stop myself. Despite her cries of pain, I was like a madman. I went on thrusting in and out her newly deflowered sex, trying my best to relax her with light kisses on her neck.  All my efforts to ease up her pain were in vain. I was still holding her dainty body down, it was almost laughable that she thought she could overpower me to free herself. She eventually stopped fighting, allowing me to have my way with her. I grabbed her hips and turned her over so she faced the wall, exposing her nice plump ass to me. I wasted absolutely no time penetrating her again. I slapped her, she screamed as each hard slap left a red mark on her ass. I shoved her face down into the pillow so that her ass stuck up into the air, at this point I didn't care how she felt, I just wanted to cum. After a few more minutes of pounding that tight pussy, I let my hot load shoot in her. Exhausted, I got off of her, and lay next to my new slut. "Wasn't that grea.. " She cut me off with a hard slap to the face. Crying, she wobbled as she struggled to walk normally to the bathroom. I did feel kinda bad that her first time had been like this, but at the sight of my wife wobbling nakedly to the bathroom, I had to laugh.

Chapter 5

I'll admit, maybe our wedding night was a dick move on my part. But either way, it was so fucking hot I can't recall ever cumming that hard. Belle was a little mad at me, she had every right to be, so I didn't give her too much lip about it. She spent the next few weeks decorating our lovely new house. I don't get what’s so exciting about picking out dishes and little trinkets to women, but Belle excelled at it for sure. I got maybe two letters from mother in that time. She was planning a visit, but on her own dime, she refused to take a handout. I was happy none the less, Belle had us join this lovely church a few blocks from our house. It felt like we were there every day, call me bad, but I sure didn't mind being surrounded by little Catholic school girls. Especially Mary Lou, she was our neighbor-maybe 14 or 15 years old. She reminded me of some of the teenage sluts I had messed around with back in Brooklyn, only Mary Lou was far more innocent looking, and a natural tease to boot. She was gonna give all the boys trouble, I thought to myself. She was maybe 5'2, a little thick, with long red-orange hair, with the prettiest green eyes. Puberty hit her hard, I swear she had to be at least a D. Her boobs bounced just for me, I sometimes thought when she walked by me. She had a lot more going on than Belle, enough that I could just picture myself tossing in the sheets with her. That little girl was gonna be mine, no matter what it took. Maybe six weeks after our wedding night, I found out my dear Belle was pregnant. She was ecstatic, but I wasn't happy at all, not that I was about to let that on to anyone, especially Belle or her parents. It would break her heart to think I didn't want that baby as much as she did. I deserve an Oscar for the performance I put on for those nine months. I probably could have given Clark Gable or Fred Macmurray a run for their money, I played the perfect part of a happy father to be. I even got a nice little puppy for Belle to help comfort her, a little black lab with a handful of white spots, so she naturally named him Spot. He was so happy and full of energy. Pets weren't allowed in our small apartment in New York, so I enjoyed his company.  As I mentioned, mother was never fond of Belle, but she had always wanted to be a grandmother, she was more excited than Belle sometimes I think. My family may have been poor, but when mother found out Belle was pregnant, she wasted no time buying bottles and diapers and sending them to Beverly Hills. They weren't needed, but Belle's heart was warmed by the gesture. She felt as though mother finally loved her. I didn’t care about that. I was still a young man, and I wanted to get right back to fucking my wife. Sadly, due to her pregnancy she refused, and slapped me. I didn't dare mention handjobs or blowjobs. I love Belle to death but she was a prude at heart. She wasn't cold hearted at least, she still allowed me to rub one out to her beautiful naked body if I begged enough. It took every bit of my willpower not to just force myself on her, but she was with a child, and I didn't dare harm her or my baby. I had to be considerate, so the word sex practically left my vocabulary when we spoke. Life went on as usual, I worked at her father's nice little company. I can't believe that I was 25, living an average joe life. With a pregnant wife and office job, what the hell happened to me? The only joy I ever really got was at church, I loved staring at Mary Lou in her pretty little frilly dresses. She only lived next door, so I decided I'd do anything to get close to her. I paid her to do dishes, clean, and sometimes "just watch the house" while the extremely pregnant Isabella slept upstairs. One day, I came home early from work just to get at her. Mary Lou may have only been 14, but I knew I was a good looking man, she couldn't possibly resist me. She was turning into a woman, slowly but surely, and there was no way she wasn’t craving the touch of a man. Why not a experienced one like myself? It would only be a matter of time before I had that naughty little school girl bouncing up and down on my cock after school on the regular. I had a nice suit on. She was wearing tight gingham shorts with a matching blouse as I snuck up behind her, grabbing her by the hips. I must have scared her, because she dropped Belle's favorite mug on the floor, shattering it. “Shhhhhh.”  I whispered in her ear. "Don't be afraid kitten, it's only me." She must have recognized my voice, as she calmed down, just as if I had asked her about the weather.

 "Can I help you?" She asked, confused.

"Belle is out at the doctor,” I responded. “She won't be back for a little. You sure could help me. Just go down to the laundry room,  take off all your clothes, and wait for me.”

She got right back to doing the dishes, ignoring my comment. "These plates are so dirty. Go ahead and watch TV, Mr Solomon, I'll finish these and then I'll walk Spot.” I growled and did exactly that. She’d killed my hard on, that little bitch.

Chapter 6

Mary Lou didn't seem bothered by any of my advances. A pinch on the ass or a hand down her shirt got me the same reaction as if I had only waved hello. Was this girl completely brain dead or did she really not know when a man was trying to fuck her? Oh well. By now, Belle was six months pregnant and twice as miserable. My poor baby, I thought, but I didn't really know how to help her or be of any use I had no experience with this sort of things. Mother just continued sending whatever she thought would be of use to us, and we started putting them in boxes, which began to grow at a rapid pace. Belle was really loving all the effort mother was putting in, but to me, it was just a room of knick knacks and diapers. My chance with Mary Lou, was finally coming up. Her parents were going to have a 21st anniversary vacation in Hawaii, leaving little Mary Lou all alone at home for a week. But when they truly began to love Belle and I, they finally decided to go. I think I had a little bit to do with it, I assured them she was in good hands. Oh well, they thought, Mary Lou was almost 15, not to mention she had an extremely charming, trusted neighbor to check on her daily. That’s where Belle came in, she was truly my token. Alone, no one really cares for a grown man, and me looking after a 14 year old girl would seem downright perverted. But a married one, with a pregnant wife and a cute little puppy? Surely those meant I was as innocent and loving as a grandmother.  My plan was to fuck Mary Lou everyday while her parents were away. But I knew she wouldn't let me being the good little Catholic girl she was. I had a plan that couldn't fail…

Belle sleeps like a dead man now thanks to my precious baby in her stomach and the pills the doctor prescribed her. All I needed was to wait ‘til night time. I put on some “smell good” as I like to call it, got ready and snuck out as Belle caught some z’s. With spot laying on the bed next to her, I gotta admit they looked adorable. I almost felt bad for what I was about to do.  Actually what am I saying? I didn't feel bad, Belle wasn't tending to my needs like a good wife should, pregnant or not. Mary Lou's parents left us a key to their house in case of emergencies. I considered my desperate desires an emergency,clearly. I crept as quietly as possible through the house, a rope and a switchblade in my jacket, until I finally reached Mary Lou's room. Jackpot! As she slept, I noticed the way the moonlight hit her perfectly. She looked so beautiful in her nightgown. It was white with lace trimming, and the way she was laying it rode up her leg giving a peek-a-boo view of her undies.  I noticed some pencils scattered on her desk and a framed picture of Bing Crosby. I was ready to pounce on Mary Lou, I was a jungle cat and this adolescent beauty was my prey. I popped out my switchblade, ready to use it if I had to, before I shook her awake.

She woke up scared, and when she saw the switchblade, oh boy, the waterworks started dripping down her face. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to understand? Do as I say and I won't even need this knife.” She nodded her head, and I gestured for her to get up. With the knife in her back, I lead her out the back door.

"Where are we going? " She asked. I just shushed her and lead her deep into the woods behind our houses. Why do women ask so many questions? When I was satisfied that we were out of sight of possible witnesses , I pushed her. She fell to the ground, hard, with a thud, only to  turn around and see me undoing my pants. "Wait..wait..you don't have to do this. Just go home. This never happened, right?"

 I was getting really irritated by the questions and gibberish now. "Oh shut up, I'm going to fuck you. You can let me, and I'll make you feel real nice, kitten, or you can fight me and I'll be the only one feeling good."She started crying once again,like a spoiled child being told "No" for the first time what a absolute brat she was.  

"I'm saving myself for Timmy... Please...What about Isabelle?" I busted out laughing at her mention of saving herself for some dumb jock, probably from school.  I got down on the ground with her, positioning myself between her legs. Frightened, she quickly backed away from me and she tried to cover herself. 

Chapter 7

Me clearly being stronger than her, I repaid her panicked gesture and mentioning of Belle by grabbing her hips, and pulling her closer to me. I forced her nightgown over her head and slashed my switchblade over both of her inner thighs, causing a stream of blood to run down. She let out a loud scream. "Have we learned our lesson, kitten? "I asked her nonchantly She nodded her head, but that wasn't good enough, this bitch had pissed me off. "Say yes sir, or I'll cut you again!"

Her eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights,I was enjoying this more than I'd thought. I loved teasing and scaring my little kitten."Yes sir!"

 I grinned "Yes sir, what? "

She bit her lip, clearly terrified, but she was gonna learn to obey me. "Yes sir, I learned my lesson.” Satisfied, I got right down to kissing her body, I heard sighs, and her body arched. This little slut was enjoying this! I got right to work, Belle never wanted to be eaten out,she said it was "dirty." So here was my chance to finally get to work, I was ready to show Mary Lou what a man could do with his tongue. I cut her cotton white panties off with my switchblade, they were already wet with the intermixing of  her sex juices and blood. I licked up and down her slit, oh my, but she was ready. I forced my tongue into her, using my thumb to massage her clit. She moaned out a few times and I got up and turned her around without giving her time to react. I positioned her on her hands and knees,just how I liked. I rubbed her pussy a few times, using one hand to hold the switchblade to her neck as a reminder to be a good little girl. I slapped her ass red before finally forcing my cock in her. She was so tight that I could barely jam it into her virgin cunt.I couldn't believe my luck! I took no time in getting some nice long thrusts in, and before long, I heard her moan "You fucking piece of trash, just fuck me. Yes, please fuck me!" I had no problem giving into her demands, my balls slapping her as I pounded her.  

"You fucking tease. I knew this was what you needed! " I said between labored breaths. This was exactly what she needed, a experienced man to show her the ropes.

"Oh fuck me, I'm going to cum for you. I can't believe this." She said before spraying my dick with her cum. In return, I filled her with my cum.  I took my cock out, and pushed her right back on the ground. "Now was that so bad? All you had to do was let me, kitten."I laughed and out of pure anger, I slashed her stomach and left thigh.  She screamed again, and by now, she was a bloody mess. I got up, zipping and buttoning up my pants. She quickly fixed her night dress.  

"Tell anybody about this, and I'll bring you back out here, but next time, when I'm done with you, you won't leave with just a few cuts!"I raised my voice,threatening her. I could tell she took it as gospel. I spat on her, landing a big glob of spit in her eye, before I started to walk away. She was trash, nothing more than a play toy for my own personal enjoyment.  I looked back to see a confused Mary Lou wiping her eyes. I was the fucking man. I creeped right back into the house and into bed, and I slept like a fucking baby. I never checked on Mary Lou, but I assumed she got back into her house safe, or slept in the woods. Not really my problem.

Chapter 8

The months went on as if nothing happened, and Belle finally gave birth to a beautiful healthy baby boy-Solomon Jr.- on May 5th, 1951. It’s safe to say, despite my abuse, Mary Lou loved it like the little slut she was. She went right back to "working" for me a week after our little ordeal. Her parents unknowingly sent her over to help care for my son, when in reality, she was caring for me. Every chance I got to be alone with Mary Lou, I took advantage of it. I fucked that underage whore every chance thrown my way. We kept this little arrangement ‘til she was 17 and went away for "college" down south. It's not much of a surprise that her parents never caught on, I’d turned her into a sneaky little whore. But little Mary Lou wasn't leaving to further her learning, she was pregnant, and therefore an embarrassment to her parents and entire family. A pregnant, unmarried daughter? That just wasn't gonna cut it.  I knew it was my baby, which I confessed to Belle out of guilt. It was killing me. Of course, she was hurt and she broke down, she went into a temporary depression, but my submissive wife finally forgave me as I expected.  She had that baby down south, somewhere in South Carolina under the care of a family friend. She returned a few months later with a "little sister" who was named Jane. I remember everyone adored baby Jane, despite the fact that Mary Lou's mother had showed no signs of pregnancy. Not to mention she was 49, not really new mother material. Deep down, I'm everyone knew the truth that Mary Lou was a little slut, but no one wanted to accept the fact a unwed teenage was a mother in those days, so life went on. I never spoke to Mary Lou again, I just couldn't seem to find the right words. It's not that I didn't care, but "Sorry I got you knocked up. Cute baby!" probably wasn't a good idea for opening up a topic of conversation. She refused to give the father's name up to her parents, despite them asking virtually every day. Eventually she claimed rape. Which is good, I'm far too pretty for prison! Her parents blindly believed her, because they knew sweet little Mary Lou would never tell a fib. But I'm not completely heartless, though we weren’t on speaking terms I made sure to give Mary Lou money every week, via my wife of course. Despite her coming from a rich family, I wanted her to know I truly cared. I may not have been able to be in Jane's life as a father per se, but I made sure she was well looked after. No child of mine would need or want for anything, that's for sure. I loved baby Jane and considered myself lucky she lived only a few yards away, they say you should always be the man you'd want your daughter to date. I took that literally, there was no way I could continue stepping out. Belle, being the sweetheart she was, even looked after the baby for free daily while Mary Lou finished up school.  Strangely enough, Solomon Jr. and Jane grew up as childhood friends. Seeing my daughter grow up before my eyes, she only knew me as "Mr. Solomon, my best friend's dad". It hurt a little, of course, but I was happy to be at least somewhat involved in her life as a positive male figure, and to see her daily. I could tell Belle really cared for her. Still to this day, neither Solomon Jr. nor Jane ever found out that they are actually siblings. Well, I guess that's until now. I love you two very much.

Chapter 9

I hope someday I'm forgiven for all my mistakes or that I can at least put them to rest. I was truly a dog in my younger days, as a old man I just wanna live the rest of my days out as honest and best I can. No more secrets, no more holding back.

My nurse Shayla walks in, her nurse scrubs fitting snug. Shayla was a cute girl, about 26 and unmarried. She stood around 5'4, of caramel complexion. I think she was half colored, half Swedish, with long, curly hair, and nice heavy tits. She was a fine looking bachelorette, and in my younger days I'd have made her bring me my medicine naked. I lay in my bed, holding my notebook writing, barely looking up at her to gesture that I was busy.

"Writing tall tales again, Carl?" She said. She snatched my book out of my hands before I could even respond. She read my deepest thoughts like a giggling schoolgirl who had found her roommate’s diary "Who's Solomon?" She asked confused. I ignored her ignorant comment.

"So when is my son stopping by?" I eagerly asked with a big smile on my face. I hadn't seen the boy in ages.  Her face went from amused to concerned.

"Now Carl, I'm sorry, but you know Isabella died in labor well over 50 years ago. Your son didn't make it, please take your pills. They will relax you. I'm here if you need me, you know that don't you?" She said as she massaged my shoulder. I knew that all the nurses were out to get me. Oh well, I think it's time for my sponge bath! 


© Copyright 2017 Lorelei Lake. All rights reserved.

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