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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 rape. 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.


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