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Dating Ritual


I hung onto the top edge of the car window so tight, I probably
left fingerprints in the Pontiac's finish. But I'd bumped my head
a few times in the past, doing it this way, so I just hung on and
gritted my teeth as Brian pounded into me. The car seat was rubbing
my knees raw, my hair was a mess -- it was all blown up around my
face so I could hardly see -- and my boobs were practically
bouncing around like an old milk cow or something,... and I didn't
care about any of it. Brian was ramming my pussy full of hot,
greasy cock so hard and so fast, the car was rocking and squeaking
and I wondered if the friction could start a fire.

I'd only screwed a few guys and Brian was the only one (so far)
who was more than a year older than me. I was just turned fifteen
and was kind of small to begin with, while Brian was almost
nineteen and a varsity football guard. His penis was so thick, he'd
had some trouble getting it into me, even when I got on my knees
and stuck my butt way up in the air for him.

It hurt a little, I admit, but it also felt great. I mean, I
like to cuddle and kiss and make out quietly with a nice, smart,
polite, hunky guy as much as any other girl (if they're being
honest), but when it comes to down-and- dirty, lay-it-on-the-table
fucking, I prefer the kind of bonehead who says things like "I want
to *do* you, babe." Which was pretty much what Brian *had* said,
actually.

He gripped me by the hips, sort of rolling the loose flesh up in
those big hands, completely in control of everything. I couldn't
have gotten away even if I'd wanted to -- and I definitely didn't
want to. I loved the jolt of that big dick slamming into me, and
the slapping sound his belly made against my butt. I even loved the
dents he made up at the end of my vagina on each powerhouse stroke,
like he was trying to burst through the end of the passage and come
directly all over my ovaries.

This was also the first time I'd been completely naked with a
guy like this. There'd only been my denim shorts and a little
French-cut tee-shirt to get rid of, because I'd planned it that
way. Brian sure seemed to like the *ooofff* and *unnnhhh* noises I
couldn't help making when he banged me.

He slowed up for a moment and I wondered what was wrong. He
certainly was nowhere close to coming yet and neither was I. Then
he pulled out of me entirely, still holding my hips, and I looked
back over my shoulder.

"Gonna try something else, now, babe," he rumbled as he stuck
his big middle finger back in my cunt and swished it around. Then
the finger moved up to my asshole, slathering my own juices around
and finally poking inside at least an inch or two. It dawned on me
what the "something" was going to be.

"No, Brian -- I've never done that before! Please, it'll hurt!
You're too big!"

"C'mon, babe, it hurt a little when you lost your cherry, didn't
it? Well, it's only gonna hurt a little bit this time, too. Just at
first. Then you're gonna love it. Besides, you got such a cute
little ass...."

He removed his finger and replaced it with his thumb, which was
the diameter of the fat end of a pool cue. It felt weird but it
didn't really hurt. Maybe this really would feel good. Besides, he
still had an iron grip on my butt. Then I felt the head of his cock
poking and pressing at my asshole; it felt kinda like trying to
take a shit when you're constipated, only in reverse.

"Owww..., Bri-an...," I whined. "It hurts, Brian. Please, stop!
Brian? Stop!" But he ignored me and just pushed harder. I bit down
on my lip and tasted blood in my mouth. And the harder he pushed,
the more it hurt, until I was on the edge of tears, but he didn't
let up. And then, thank God, the head of his cock squeezed through
into my ass and he paused and took a deep breath. That was the
biggest part of it, I though. The worst had to be over.

But it wasn't over, not even close. Brian began pushing again --
like ramming a baseball bat up my ass, thick end first. My face was
pressed against the car seat by this time, though my hands were
still clutching the window ledge above my head. My knees were
spread as wide as the seat allowed and my back was curved downward
to give him maximum access. I'd also liked being in the weaker,
more helpless position during sex but it occurred to me along about
then that it might also be dangerous.

After a couple more minutes of pushing and grunting, Brian's
cock was completely inside me, all however-many inches of it there
were. And nothing I could really do about it. Except scream, maybe,
but this wasn't even r*pe. I'd practically asked for this to
happen. And, of course, that made it all the more sexy, even over
the pain.

"Hold on," Brian said with another grunt. "I'm going to change
position." I held my breath as he wrapped his big arms around my
waist and picked me up with no effort at all. With his cock buried
rigidly in my ass like that, I felt like a rabbit on a spit being
set over the fire.

He resettled himself in the middle of the seat with me sitting
in his lap, my butt jammed back against his groin. Then he began
lifting he up a couple inches and pushing me back down, making his
penis slide in and out. I was afraid he'd split me open, literally
-- afraid I was bleeding, afraid of some kind of internal
injury,... afraid he might stop.

Every piledriver thrust seemed to push him farther up into me.
His dick felt two feet long and eight inches around. I had to brace
my hands on his forearms, which meant reaching a little behind me,
and I arched my back and my boobs jiggled and bounced. They weren't
all that big, but I was willing to bet they'd be bigger after
tonight!

The pounding went on forever, it seemed like, but it was really
only about ten or fifteen minutes. My ass was numb from the beating
it was taking and there was moisture leaking out the bottom of my
cunt and making a spot on the car seat between Brian's legs. I was
so sore, I wasn't sure I could even come.

Then Brian took a big breath and increased the tempo and the
force of his thrusting, and I felt my climax bubbling to the
surface. And as he jerked and shot off into my ass -- there must
have been buckets of the stuff -- I felt the shakes and trembling
of my own orgasm. It was like nothing I'd ever felt, but being
fucked in the ass was also like nothing I'd ever felt.

When we were finished, I leaned back against Brian's broad,
hairy chest and just tried to get my breath back. His penis was
still jammed in me, of course, but I could barely feel it now. Then
he shifted to one side and sort of pushed me over so I just slipped
off his lap. His cock also pulled out slowly, which was a relief.
I just lay there like I had no bones but Brian prodded me in the
ribs.

"Hey, you left kind of a mess there, didn't you?" I looked up at
his sweaty grin. "I think you ought to clean that up." He flipped
his cock up with one finger. It was about halfway back to its
normal size -- if anything about that salami was "normal" -- and it
looked a little nasty. I reached for it anyway, figuring I could
always wash my hands afterward, but Brian grabbed my wrist. "Uh, uh
-- with your mouth, babe. You ain't sucked me off, yet."

I just stared at him and his grin got bigger. He wanted me to
suck on his cock, which had just been in my own ass? Was he
kidding?

No, apparently he wasn't. The grin narrowed to a leer and his
eyes kind of glittered. He looked scary, suddenly.

"Let's go, babe." He took my upper arm and lifted me like I
weighed nothing. I tried to lean away from him; I couldn't think of
anything I could say that would make him stop. Then he grabbed for
my hair and wrapped it around his fist a few times before I could
react. I yelped and hung onto his hand but he yanked my face down
toward his lap. The pain that tore through my scalp sent tears down
my face but I could only squeak.

"Do it." He shook my head in his fist and pain spread again.
Desperately, I reached for his penis, which was mostly soft now but
also smelly and slimy. It was my own body juices that had made it
like that but I still didn't like it.

I was afraid I was going to be sick if I put that thing in my
mouth but I was afraid Brian would get really mad and slap me or
something -- and he was strong and his hands were so big, he could
break my neck if he did that. I quickly stuffed his penis in my
mouth and started sucking on it. I didn't know what shit tasted
like but I could sure smell it. I sucked mechanically, just trying
to get it over with -- but then his cock began getting bigger
again. No! I thought -- it's too soon! I can't do it again!

But Brian seemed content to hold my head motionless in his lap
and let his expanding erection fill up my mouth and throat. I
gagged and fought the urge to throw up as the head of it pushed
against my windpipe. Brian pushed my head down even farther. It was
obvious he wanted me to deep-throat him, or at least to try. I'd
never done that, either, but I had no choice.

I tried frantically to relax my throat muscles and I even raised
and lowered my head a bit, trying to work the end of his cock down
past my epiglottis. Just like a sword-swallower, I thought. They do
this all the time. And those women in the X-rated films -- they do
this stuff for money. All it takes is practice. I repeated that
over and over to myself as I let his cock-head slip in and out at
the top of my throat. I was so numb mentally, I think I even
stopped noticing the taste and the smell.

After about five minutes, when it was obvious Brian wasn't going
to be able to get off again that night, he sighed in frustration
and let go of my hair. I sat up and rubbed at my mouth, then
brought up a bunch of phlegm and spat out the window. Then,
finally, I looked around for my shorts and shirt. As I pulled them
on, and Brian hauled his jeans up and got them buttoned and zipped,
neither of us said a word. He wasn't much of a conversationalist
anyway, and I really didn't have anything left to say.



Half an hour later, Brian dropped me at the curb in front of my
house. I'd brushed my hair and redone my lipstick on the way so I'd
be presentable, just in case I ran into my parents on the way
upstairs. I patted the tree-trunk arm and lightly kissed the rough
cheek.

"Thanks for a terrific date, Brian. Maybe we can do it again
sometime." Brian smirked at me, God's favor to the female species.
"Fair's fair, though," I went on. "It's Jack's turn next weekend.
Be sure to ask him to give me a call in a couple days, okay? My
folks don't approve of boys who wait until the last minute to ask
for a date."

Brian looked a bit sour at that but he nodded and said "Yeah,
yeah -- I'll tell him, babe. See ya."

I smiled secretly to myself as I headed up the walk and heard
Brian's tires squeal loudly as he roared away from the curb. Jack
Wallach was the anchorman on the wrestling team, the
superheavyweight no one ever beat. He was even bigger than Brian
but he wasn't bright enough to be a lineman. However, he did have
kind of a reputation for being rougher than necessary on his
opponents. He'd broken one guy's leg last year, just twisted the
knee right around. And the year before, he'd dislocated another
guy's shoulder. Yeah, he'd do for my next parking date.

I made more plans as I climbed the stairs. There was that guy at
the supermarket, an assistant manager or something that one of my
girlfriends had told me about. He worked out with weights, she
said, and was always flexing his muscles at the checkout girls. He
had to be thirty, at least, and he wore a wedding ring, so I'd have
to be real careful with him. But how could he resist a cute little
kid like me? He couldn't, I thought with another smile. None of
them could.

I whistled soundlessly as I as I rinsed out my mouth and brushed
the brown specks and caked semen off my teeth and tongue. It was
getting kind of cool; maybe I'd wear the pajamas with the feet in
them tonight.



END



End of Story