Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
That’s all I need to hear.
I slide my cock into her asshole and it feels so fucking good. Her rectal walls squeeze around me, and I can’t take it. I should be ashamed for coming so soon, but at the moment, I don’t give a fuck. With a roar, I explode, fucking reams of semen into her tight anal space, painting her GI tract with white.
“Fuck!” I roar, uncaring if the walls crumble from the shout. “Shit, your ass feels so good!”
“Fill me with your seed!” Stella begs even as her ass tightens on my rod, milking me of semen. “Yes yes yes!”
Holy shit. How did I get to this point, where I’m ass fucking a beautiful young parishioner on her hands and knees as her uncle watches, palming his own dick? But I don’t care and I fuck into Stella’s tight butt again, emptying my balls into her aching space.
“Fuuuuuck,” I groan once I’m done. “Oh shit.”
Stella’s come too, and I didn’t even notice because I was so caught up in my ecstasy. But I can tell from the residual shudders of her sphincter that she just ascended to Heaven, and is now trying to breathe and calm down after experiencing the highest ecstasy.
Of course, Hunter’s still watching, that asshole, and he circles us before coming to stop right by me. Then he comes next, groaning loud as he paints her buttocks with thick, white ropes of semen. The fluid drips all over, spreading so that it seeps down to where my cock is still buried in her tight, ripe asshole. Fuck, is our sperm mixing? Probably yes.
Hunter merely roars again as he finishes, squirting the last few drops of semen onto his niece’s back. Stella moans, loving the filth as she services us both.
Holy fuck.
Did that just happen?
Is my cock currently buried in a young girl’s asshole as the semen from her uncle drips down, mixing with my own spunk?
Fuck yeah.
The room is silent except for our breathing, and the faint hiss of the incense burning low.
I pull out slowly, watching as my penis emerges inch by inch from Stella’s ravaged ass, glistening from a mixture of semen and ass sweat. Stella moves to straighten, but then she startles, alarmed, and cups one hand beneath her bottom.
“There’s too much semen,” she gasps, eyes wide. “It’s going to get all over your carpet.”
Holy fuck, did I unload that much? But I have a solution. With firm hands, I press her down to her hands and knees again, and pull her butt cheeks apart with both hands. We stare in admiration at her gape. The girl’s anus is pink and stretched, obviously ravaged by a massive cock, and there’s a huge amount of white gloop overflowing her entrance.
“You do the honors,” Hunter invites.
I don’t hesitate. I press my mouth to her gape, licking up the anal cream pie while Stella cries out, loving the intimacy. Then I pull back and Hunter takes my place as we alternate licking and sucking her tight butthole, swallowing the cream there. It’s insane. It’s fucking dirty. But it feels absolutely right to be defiling the sweet girl … even though we’re her uncle and her pastor.
After they leave, I sit in the office for a long time after in silence, watching the incense trail dissipate into the afternoon light, the air thick with the scent of taboo and possibility.
I know exactly what’s coming. I’m going to meet Stella and Hunter outsides the confines of the church walls.
And this time, I won’t need a legal pad … because Stella will be getting it from two men whether she’s ready or not.
13
ALL ABOUT LACHLAN
Lachlan
My apartment is too quiet as I work, the echo off the brushed concrete making even my soft footsteps sound like an intrusion. There are very few doorways in this place—just angles and lines, cold surfaces, nothing to collect the dust of sentimentality. There’s a crucifix on one wall, wood worn black around the edges from the hands of too many penitents, and a steel rack above the counter hung with a mismatched arsenal of cookware: Marine-issue, pre-seasoned and beat to hell. Then again, my life has only belonged to two institutions: the Marines and the Church, so I suppose the decor is appropriate.
I roll my sleeves to the elbow, survey the prep. Hunter and Stella are going to be here soon, and I need to move shit along. Arborio rice in a heavy porcelain bowl, shallots diced fine, garlic cloves lined like a firing squad along the cutting board. The wine is already breathing, a Montrachet I splurged on from the Bottle Shop downtown—never serve the cheap stuff to a rich man, especially if you’re planning to seduce his niece with it. Not that I’m thinking of it as seduction. More like a scene of total filth, but this time off church premises. I grimace a little. Clearly, what we’ve been doing could get me fired. Clearly, my reputation could be destroyed. So what the fuck am I doing?