By Nathan F.
Copyright ©2025
Her name is Rina. I hold her hands as we walk up a narrow stairway. She hasn’t had much to drink, but her fair, slender legs wobble with each step. I had four cervezas during dinner and she’s had half a glass of wine.
“You don’t want to go home?” I ask. I get close to her ears and take a whiff of her porcelain skin marinated in vanilla and some kind of flower. She grabs my forearm and shakes her head.
“You should go home for the night,” I say.
“No,” she says. “It’s fairly late.”
“I’d get you a taxi home if you’re not ready. We can do this another time.”
“I am ready, Nathan. And besides, it’s fairly late.”
I take her up the magic stairs to the magic place I’ve promised all night long. I tell her to sit on my couch. It is brown and soft and fuzzy and she is red and soft and nervous. I get down on my knees and take her right sock off.
My nose runs through them… my lips… my tongue. She squirms a little, but surrenders to my mouth. Juices from my tongue coat each painted nail and I can feel her body radiate with heat while I feast on her delicate toes.
She puts her other foot on top of my cock. She rubs it up and down, slow as a succubus taking her time, enticing the elixir out of my balls. I have every intention to give it to her. All of it. Soak it in her womb and never pull out.
I pick her up, legs wrapped around me, and slam her back on my bedroom door.
“You want it?” I ask.
My eager cock pierces through wool trousers, reaching under her skirt, meeting the pool of juices oozing out of her cunt.
“You want it, don’t you?” I ask. “You’ve been wanting it all day long.”
Our tongues swim in an ocean of spit and they hug and grind on each other and everything around us disappears.
“Fuck me,” she says. “Fuck me and fuck me again… please…”
I carry her quivering frame and toss her to my bed.
I rip the innocent blouse she put on for dinner. Now is it something pink or lighter than pink? I do not know, but I have destroyed it. I am a bull with stiff horns rampaging through her fabric as if they were all red.
She lays there, still. Eyes helplessly fixed on me, like a lamb to slaughter. She does not resist, save for miniscule moans of protest…of pleasure.
I remove everything but her naked skin, fair and radiant and beautiful. My cock is stiff and ready to defile her. I will take her innocence and leave nothing for herself. She can’t keep her strumpet legs together and they pry open at the slightest touch of my palm.
I rest the head of my fat cock on top of her cunt, right where her swollen clit is. She is restless and impatient, a proper whore.
Her pretty fingers hasten to caress my thick, veiny cock. She scoops her pussy juice and spreads it all over the holy grail, milks me like she’s done it a thousand times before. She wants my cum. She begs for my cum. Her womb calls for it. Who am I to hold back?
I know her lips have not yet been sullied with dick, definitely not precum. And I give her just that. Tears fall from her pretty eyes as I shove my weapon halfway down her slippery throat. She pushes me away but it means nothing. I continue to ravage her throat, her ungodly gags giving life to my membrane with each spasm.
A wave of viscous spit spills out as she gasps for air. “No more,” she says. “No more, please.”
I force open her mouth with my hand, pinching her cheeks together. I spit on her tongue. She swallows and sticks it out for more. Her cunt has flooded with Cupid’s moisture, welcoming the arrow she craves with all her life.
I shove the tip of my cock in and she screeches in pain.
“Slowly,” she says, her breath shallow and labored and unsure. I take my palm and shut her mouth tight. I force my way in, slow, heavy, powerful.
The tightness of her cunt fades away with every stroke, her wailing dies down, and she moans in pleasure as she has finally bitten the apple of the devil. I am the serpent that lulls Rina to a life of fruitful sin, to sin beyond her wildest dreams, to sin just as the women around her sin, just as her mother and her mother before her.
We stain the sheets red with her blood, but neither of us cares. We are lost in a dance where I break her down inch by inch until she has nothing more to give. Sweat to sweat, spit to spit, fuck-fluids to fuck-fluids, we are one within and without.
“I’m near,” I cry. She pulls me closer and wraps her legs around my waist.
“I’m near, Rina. I am fucking near!”
I fill her ravaged pussy with thick cum three days in the making, the bulk of it spilling out of her bloodied and beaten labia, dripping down her tiny asshole. I stick my middle finger in and play with it, rubbing my cum around where her shit comes out.
I swim my tongue around her tongue and lay on top of her for a while. We slow our breaths down together, in sync, in grace, in marriage.
At this time in her life, she is no longer the innocent virgin she was. I have defiled her body and taken her soul. Just as she imagined for years in her dirty little room in her parent’s house, right from the beginning when she learned she could play with herself. I have made it all come true, and she begged every inch of it.
She is frozen, but the night is young. The limp cock buried in her pussy is engorged with devil’s blood yet again and I prepare to fuck her until dawn.
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