Adult Books [Archive] - The Asian Commercial Sex Scene

ahSoon

27-06-2010, 01:08 AM

The Abducted Bride by Jon Reskind

Chapter 1/15
The smooth trim Marseille Express burrowed its way swiftly through the clear night of the French country side. A large pale summer moon hung low in the distance.

Kevin Taylor watched its shimmering light moving against the darkened ceiling of his sleeper compartment. It flickered hypnotically in unison to the rhythmic roll of the train beneath his bunk. Cool air from the open window played across his naked well built body which covered the whole of the narrow bed. He was alone.

Damn, he thought miserably, what a hell of a way to spend a honeymoon.

He drug deeply on the almost finished cigarette squeezed tightly between his thumb and forefinger. His brow was wrinkled in deep thought.

He had reason to think. Ahead of him in Marseille his bride was waiting after running out on him their first night together in Paris. Utter, utter stupidity, he grimaced, the details of their last hour together flickering through his mind like the reel of an old silent movie.

Perhaps he had been a little rough, but by God she had it coming to her. He had fought with her the entire year of their engagement about giving in to him and had tried to explain that virginity had gone out of style. Two people in love just didn't wait anymore for marriage, they relied on their love and trust and not some legal magic a ring was supposed to bring. She had not listened to him then and had even refused to discuss the matter though they had come close to making it together several times in the backseat of his car. She had always drawn the line just at the last minute. This was the part that had driven him crazy. He had come so close to possessing that luscious body so many times and had been left in frustration so many times that his control had been destroyed completely. He had even stopped parking with her when they had gone out on dates for fear of what he would have done.

With her conservative New England upbringing, she would never have consented to marry him if he had resorted to force and that's just what he would have done sooner or later. He did love her very much and didn't want to destroy their relationship by some uncontrollable act that he may have committed in the heat of passion. She was too fine a girl for that.

He had to admit, in her favor, that he had nothing else to complain about. She was almost perfection personified in all other respects. In fact, it was that perfection and his piled up frustrations that caused all the trouble back in Paris. That damn body was too perfect!

Things may still have been all right that first night if she hadn't insisted on taking a plane to Paris right after the ceremony. He would have preferred to stay in New York for a few days and take their time in getting to know each other. But, Jean had insisted on Paris immediately. That had meant sitting next to her on that fucking airplane for another seven hours. All that ran through his mind during the entire trip was, where he should hare been at that moment. After all, she had been stressing the ceremony all these months and that was over. She was legally his now and he still couldn't touch her.

It had just been too much. By the time they arrived at the hotel in the center of Paris he was almost out of his mind--and then--she had appeared in the bathroom door in that flimsy hip length nighty. He had
gone crazy.

He could still see her standing there in the doorway, her body a lovely thing of art. He had seen her before in a bathing suit, but never like this. Every sensuous detail of her nakedness was lucidly clear, from her tiny rising nipples down to the soft triangle of pubic hair that nestled mysteriously below her white virginal belly.

Suddenly, nothing else had mattered but ramming his hard cock into that teasing flesh. She had become just a woman, a woman that he had to have right now at any cost. All else was forgotten.

"Like me, darling?" He could still hear ringing from her lips though now it seemed to have occurred centuries ago.

There had been no verbal response from him, he remembered dryly. He had just reached for her, a deep animal-like groan erupting from his throat, and pulled her roughly to the bed. Her soft covered negligee had ripped away like so much tissue paper.

"Be gentle, Kevin! Be gentle, please! P-Please!" Her voice had resounded through the room in terror as he held her down with one hand and ran the other greedily over the lush contours of her resisting young body, kneading her ripe succulent breasts cruelly beneath hands he no longer controlled. Tight fists of flesh protruded painfully in white bloodless ridges between his straining fingers. His head had dropped to the young budding nipples and chewed hungrily at their tips until he had felt the soft resilient flesh give way and the sweet taste of blood seeping onto his lashing tongue.

"No, darling, N-Nooo, please, not this way, not this way!" she had pleaded, but the words had rolled unheeded from her tortured lips.

He still had, in his madness held her wildly straining body tightly to the bed. She was imprisoned there by his heavy tensed chest that weighed upon her like a giant stone. Her long dark hair had begun thrashing helpless from side to side on the bed, her face contorted with terror. He could still remember bitterly, her dark eyes flashing wide in disbelief that this was happening to her. She had pleaded more until the sounds became nothing but incoherent mumbles of jumbled words. It was then he had fucked her the first time.

ahSoon

27-06-2010, 01:10 AM

Chapter 1/15 (continue)
Ignoring the low moaning pleas, he had rolled on top her, catching her body as her long slim legs had scissored out in one last desperate effort to escape his brutal assault. His hips had fallen heavily between the full wide-splayed thighs, pinning her jerking buttocks tightly to the bed. The soft down of her pubic hair brushing teasingly against his throbbing cock, inciting him to incoherent mumblings of crazed uncontrollable lust.

The slow motion pictures of Jean's ravishment flickered on through his tortured mind as the express tunneled on ceaselessly through the night ... His knees were holding hers wide apart now and he was grinding his pelvis hard into her squirming defenseless crotch. The spasmodic jerkings of the hollows of her soft inner thighs drove his hand between them; he was searching to place himself, striving to reach that goal that had eluded him for so long ... and suddenly, without warning ... he had brutally found it. He had jammed the blood-filled head between the fleshy moist lips and with a groan, shoved it all the way forward into her quivering cunt. She had squealed like a stuck pig and kicked her legs out wildly in the air in a futile attempt to escape the cruel impalement. It had only worsened her position and he could still hear the guttural screech of further pain that had come tumbling piteously from deep in her throat as his rock-hard cock battered deeper and deeper into her warm yielding flesh. At last, his pelvis had smacked hard into hers, signaling the end. His rigid fleshy column lay sunk all the way down inside of her quivering belly, the warm wet walls of her cunt wrapped tightly around it.

He didn't stop. He didn't even give her a chance to adjust to his sudden presence deep in her womb. He just began to fuck, ramming in and out of her like a dog gone mad. He had only thought of one thing and that was to spew that hot sticky load of cum deep inside of her where it belonged and where it had belonged for a year now. He vented his lust against her groaning body time after time, flooding her belly again and again with the hot white liquid of a year's frustrated waiting and hoping ... until-finally ... it was all gone.

How long or how many times he had fucked her, he couldn't remember. He had been an unconscious being in another world of complete madness. But, he did remember, after the first great gush from his sperm inflated cock had emptied into her, a feeling of helpless guilt flooding over him.

He had become more gentle with the sobbing body beneath and had babbled soft apologies in her unhearing ears as he had rocked over her. He had tried to bring a response that would wipe away the terrible guilt he felt for letting his unbridled lust overcome the patience he knew he should have had with her.

It had been useless. She had lain motionless beneath him, her eyes open wide, staring coldly at the ceiling above as he had tried time after time to awaken some response that would show she felt something other than pain and disgust.

The contemptuous eyes had not wavered from the ceiling.

Kevin remembered rolling from her still body, and unable to speak what he felt, had merely lit a cigarette and gazed silently down at her. He had finally mustered the courage to say something.

"Jean, can you forgive me?"

"Please cover me, Kevin," she had spoken coldly after a long seconds delay, her eyes still refusing to look at him. He pulled the sheet up over her body and tucked it gently under her chin.

He waited, but there was silence.

"Darling, I know it must have been awful for you. I--I just couldn't control myself."

Silence.

"You were beautiful standing there."

Silence.

"Perhaps if we hadn't waited so long. Remember? I told you we should have tried before."

Silence.

"Damn it, Jean," he had finally blurted out in his frustration. "You've got to understand a man's feelings about these things. I'm not some robot that can stand being next to a woman like you and not feel something. It's been building up all this time and it's your fault for being so almighty righteous and virtuous."

Kevin had known he had treaded too far when this had slipped out, but it was too late.

Because he had wanted to fight back, to recoup his lost vanity, he had become cruel. He had blamed his own failing on Jean and accused her of being cold and unfeeling.

"Christ, I might as well have married a statue. It could satisfy me as much as you have." He had shouted in guilt and anger. "I don't think you'll ever be able to Brake a man happy. Not until you learn to get off that pedestal you've put yourself on. Or, at least, that your old man's put you on."

Kevin had seen her move and glance toward him with the deepest hatred he had yet seen in her eyes. He knew he had hit a sore point and was glad to see some reaction from her, even though it was of hate, it was better than nothing. Besides, he felt like hurting her now the way she had hurt him.

"I'm going out and get myself some little slut off the street. I need a good grind. It'll be a long time before I get one at home."

With this, he had gone to the bathroom and dressed. He left, slamming the door behind him, not pausing for even a side glance at Jean.

That had been his big mistake, he thought bitterly as he flipped the cigarette butt out the open window of the racing train. Jean had been in no condition to be left alone at that moment. He should have swallowed his pride and not let his male ego take over. They wouldn't have this mess now if he had done what he should have and not run off into the Paris streets to walk off his own guilt feelings.

ahSoon

27-06-2010, 01:11 AM

Chapter 1/15 (continue 2)
He had not gone out after a woman that night.

He had spent several hours just walking and stopping periodically for a cognac. He had thought long and hard about their relationship. It had been a good one and still could be in spite of his miserable failure on their wedding night. The cool Paris night air had settled his mind a bit and he had worked out an apology and explanation of sorts. It might take a while, but he was sure she would get over it.

When he had returned to the hotel the Concierge at the desk had handed him an envelope. It had been a simple note from Jean saying she was leaving. She needed a few days to think things over and for him not to try and contact her. She would let him know when and where to meet her so they could discuss things rationally.

That is why he was on this damn train. The cable had come this afternoon for him to meet her in Marseille. She made up her mind and wanted to talk to him. He didn't have the slightest idea what the decision had been and was a bit apprehensive, though he was certain they could work something out.

One thing he knew, he could not let her go. He loved her more than anything in the world and could not leave her under any circumstances

He fell into a deep but troubled sleep, anxious for the morning to arrive.

end of Chapter 1/15

ahSoon

27-06-2010, 01:36 AM

The Abducted Bride by Jon Reskind

Chapter 2/15
Jean Taylor had been on this same train two nights previously. She had lain in the same bunk that Kevin Taylor did a few nights later, but he had no way of knowing it. Her thoughts also ran over the events that had occurred in the hotel, her eyes seeing them in a different light.

How could he have been so cruel, she thought, what had turned Kevin so suddenly into the raging animal he had been?

She ran her hands over the raw tips of her swollen nipples that were so sore she could not bear to wear anything over them, even to sleep. Her shoulders trembled when she thought back to the horrible rape of her body and the way he had used it as a tool solely for his own gratification without even the slightest thought of her desires or pleasures. He had used her like an animal--his own wife the thought sickened her and tears brimmed her eyes.

She had actually looked forward to the first evening with him and had been preparing herself mentally for weeks before to make certain she entered the marital relationship with the correct attitude. She knew he had resented her not giving herself to him before marriage, and she also knew that most of her friends had not saved themselves for that first night either. But, she had vowed that theirs was going to be a classically perfect marriage, in the old fashioned sense. She had wanted, so much, for them to have a mutual respect and understanding for each other from the beginning and for him to never be able to doubt that he, and he alone, was the only man to possess her.

Perhaps she had made the mistake of quoting her father too often in this matter when Kevin had been overly persistent about having her before marriage. This was why she had cringed when he had thrown it at her back in the hotel room. It was true, perhaps, that he did place her on a pedestal, and also that he was perhaps over-solicitous toward her, but he had a right to be. He was of good conservative New England stock, and as a God-fearing man, had expected his family to be also.

She had been tempted many times, she had to admit, but had always summoned up her courage and resisted, even {bough the easy thing to do would have been to give in to Kevin's demands. She had come so close sometimes that if he had just had the persistence to continue, he could have broken her down. In fact, she was certain that she was as anxious for the consummation as he was and it would have been so beautiful if he could have just shown a little understanding and could have prepared her gently for the final assault on her virginity.

She had read so much about how important the first night was in marriage and how beautiful it could be if both partners were understanding of each other.

Well, she had been, she thought to herself, and all she received for it was a broken and bruised body bestially raped like she was a whore off the streets.

Jean clenched her eyes tightly shut at the memory of his last statement. She could still hear it ringing in her ears as the sound of the train lulled her tortured mind to sleep:

"I don't think you could ever make a man happy. I'll get a good grind"

* * * *

She was awakened the next morning by the knocking of the porter on the compartment door.

"Breakfast call, breakfast call," he repeated in his broken English several times.

Jean opened her eyes hesitantly. It just had to be a good day. She needed some sun; the weather always seemed to dictate her mood of the day and she had enough problems to think about without having that dismal French overcast.

It was shining beautifully. She could see its warming rays streaming over her head and touching the compartment wall, flooding the tiny cubicle with a lovely radiance that made her forget her problems momentarily. She was famished and brushed her teeth and dressed rapidly. She wanted to make the first breakfast call so she would have time to do some thinking before arriving in Marseille. The train wasn't due for another two hours or so and it wouldn't hurt to try and organize herself mentally. She still had to worry about a hotel when she arrived there. She had not wanted to let anyone at the hotel in Paris make reservations for her as Kevin may have bought the information from them and she would not have the time she needed to come to grips with herself.

Jean settled herself back in the chair in the clean white dining car. She had ordered fried eggs and bacon, which had surprised her when she had seen them on the French menu.

"Ah, une dejeuner, Americain," the waiter had said smilingly.

"Oui, dejeuner, Americain," Jean had repeated, smiling back. She was glad she had at least remembered some of the words from her College French course. She supposed that any French waiter would know the word for breakfast, but it was nice to be able to say some things in the language of the country in which you were traveling.

"It was a beautiful day," she thought, as she watched the green rolling French countryside roll by. Quaint small sharp roofed farm houses could be seen in the distance adding to the beauty of the setting.

If only things had not happened the way they had in Paris, she might have been enjoying this with Kevin.

She was almost beginning to regret her hasty decision to leave before he returned when her thoughts were interrupted by a feminine French voice speaking excellent English.

"Excuse me, you are American, aren't you?" a stately, well-groomed woman asked, smiling pleasantly.

ahSoon

27-06-2010, 01:38 AM

Chapter 2/15 (continue)
"Why, yes I am," Jean answered, surprised by the sudden intrusion upon her thoughts.

"May I join you? I haven't the chance to speak English so often anymore, it would be nice while we are having breakfast," she said nodding at the empty chair across from Jean.

"Yes, please do," Jean replied, a bit perplexed at having her solace interrupted so unexpectedly.

The annoyance only lasted a moment, however, as she turned out to be one of the most pleasant women she had talked with in a long time. Perhaps it was good to talk to someone else and get this thing off her mind for awhile, she rationalized to herself.

Madame DuBois had immediately monopolized the conversation, but in a pleasant manner. She was from the south of France and told Jean many little stories and anecdotes about the area they were passing through that brightened her spirits perceptibly. She seemed to be an amazing woman. She was married to a wealthy art dealer in Paris and was going to Marseille to look at some paintings for him that one of his underground contacts had discovered in an old shop. She was certain she could pick several Renior's for almost nothing. The shop owner thought they were copies and Madame DuBois was going down to discreetly check before they bought them.

Jean felt herself extremely fortunate to have met her. She solved her hotel problem. Madame DuBois said she usually stayed at one of the more chic places in Marseille, but did not want any of the other art dealers to know she was in town. It was a dirty business and if it was known she was there, one of them was certain to have her followed to see what she was up to. Therefore, she was staying in a small third class hotel in the lower part of town where she would not be seen or reported to be in town. She had assured Jean it was clean and had all the facilities of the more grandiose but just a little more French.

Jean was happy with this. She was afraid Kevin might call the police and they would send out an alert to the hotels. It would take no time at all to find her, as they were very efficient about this, but with a small hotel it would be almost impossible. This was luck and her spirits rose immediately.

Breakfast finished, Jean had rushed back to the compartment and put her things together. Marseille was coming up. They had talked so long together that both had forgotten about it being so near.

It was also nice to have an interpreter. Madame DuBois handled all the baggage and porters and got them into a taxi without the usual difficulties a tourist to such a place has. Jean was certain her high school French would not have done her much good here.

The ride to the hotel was pleasant. Monique, they were on a first name basis now, had made the driver go along the waterfront drive so Jean could get a good view of the city. The blue of the Mediterranean looked so inviting that she could have jumped into it that very moment. She almost wished now she had taken a beach-side hotel outside the city, but still it would be nice to have Monique around for company and perhaps she could help her with some advice. She seemed so much more worldly wise than herself.

Jean would have been happy with any solution now and perhaps she would confide in Monique later this evening when they had gotten to know each other just a little better. She was certain the older woman would understand the problem. She knew she would go back with Kevin, but the only problem was how to do it with honor, and more important, how to erase away the horrible memory of night before last.

* * * *

The taxi turned off from the waterfront drive into the old sector of the city and the streets became more narrow and crowded. Open markets selling everything imaginable lined the narrow alleyways the driver was picking his way through. It was obviously the sailor quarter for the port as Jean could see every nationality of seaman imaginable, and even at this hour of the day, vulgar, gaudy, looking women were parading the sidewalks plying their age-old trade.

Jean became a bit apprehensive when the car stopped in front of a dirty doorway marked, Le Pension Afrique.

"Is this it, Monique?" she asked, obvious concern reflecting in her voice.

"Yes, it is, dear," she answered, an assuring smile on her lips, "but don't worry, the outside means nothing. You Americans are all the same; you expect the Hotel Ritz everywhere you go. Now come on in and stop worrying."

She paid the driver and signaled to a boy standing in front of the door to take their bags.

Monique led her down a darkened hallway to the stairway and up to the second floor where the desk was located. She checked them in with the desk clerk, who was obviously pleased to see her. Jean didn't like his looks. He was Algerian with a short clipped mustache and looked as though he belonged behind a bar rather than working as a desk clerk.

"Jean, this is Shalla," Monique said, introducing the clerk. "He speaks English very well and takes care of all of my needs when I stay here. You'll find him useful."

"How do you do Madame," the clerk bowed toward her with the natural Arab obsequiousness.

She nodded back to him apprehensively. She didn't like the looks of this place at all but perhaps Monique was right, Americans did expect a lot. Anyway it was quiet and the neighborhood quaint, it may be just the place to reflect on her problems for a few days.

ahSoon

27-06-2010, 01:39 AM

Chapter 2/15 (continue 2)
Shalla led them up to the third floor and gave them adjoining rooms. There was a connecting door which made Jean feel a little better. The lock for it was on her side so if she needed anything in a hurry she could always get into Monique's room. She didn't like the way the Arab desk clerk was looking at her. She knew they were an extremely polite people and overly solicitous at times but still made her nervous the way he looked her up and down lustfully with his sharp penetrating eyes.

"Well, here we are, my dear," Monique said as the clerk placed Jean's baggage next to the wrought iron double bed. Jean had thought these beds had gone out with the horse and buggy. She surveyed the rest of the room and it looked as though it hadn't been renovated since that time either. A single uncovered light bulb hung down from the center of the ceiling and was the only light source in the room. There were no lamps on the table. The cheaply painted plaster was cracked along the walls and small blotches had fallen out of the ceiling, leaving irregular shaped holes that showed through to the lathe work beneath.

Thank God, Monique is here with me, she thought. She seems to know what she's doing.

"Do you stay here often?" Jean had to ask.

"Oh yes, my dear, my husband and I always stay here when we want peace and quiet and, it is quaint."

Jean felt foolish that she had to keep asking questions like this. Monique had assured her several times that everything was all right. She would just have to accept it. After all, who knows a country better than a native. Besides, she liked her and was looking to her for some moral support these next several days. They would be difficult ones and she knew she wouldn't bear to face them completely alone.

"Jean, dear," Monique said, "I've got to run and do a few things before I unpack. Why don't you put your things away and rest up a bit. I think a nap would do you good. I'll be back around six and we can have dinner together."

Jean agreed to this. She was happy to be left alone for a few hours to get settled and take a bath. She felt gritty from the trip and hadn't been in a tub since her hurried exit from the hotel room in Paris.

"I'd love it," Jean replied, "you wake me up when you finish your business. I'll probably be dead to the world."

As soon as Monique was out of the room, Jean finished her unpacking and drew a cool refreshing bath. She couldn't wait to get into bed, as squeaky and uncomfortable as it looked. She scrubbed herself a bright clean, feeling as though she hadn't touched water in weeks. Afterwards, she rubbed herself with lotion from head to foot, rubbing gently over the bruises left from Kevin's childish assault on her. She closed her mind tightly against the memory for the time being and decided to think about it later. Right now she was too tired to do anything but sleep.

She chose a short hip-length nighty, purposely pushing the torn one she had worn the other night with Kevin into a far corner of the drawer where she had put her things.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Jean asked lightly, concluding that Monique had forgotten something.

"Iced tea, Madame," she recognized Shalla's voice through the door.

"But, I--I didn't order any tea," Jean answered, surprised and a bit upset about the unexpected intrusion.

"Madame Monique ordered it for you, Madame. She said it would help you sleep. It's a special mint tea to relax you."

"Oh, all right, just a minute," Jean threw on her thin robe and opened the door to allow him to enter.

Shalla stopped for a moment as he brought the tray through the door. Jean caught his sharp quick eyes as they glanced the length of her body. She automatically drew the top of the robe tightly around her throat and stood holding the door open waiting for him to put the tray down and leave.

"If Madame needs anything else, just ring the buzzer and Shalla will come." He bowed as he slowly backed out the door, his penetrating eyes boring straight through the robe Jean was wearing. She gave him a cold stare and shuddered as she drew its flimsy material more tightly around herself locking the door behind him. She was glad Monique would be returning in a few hours. She knew she was safe here with the door locked but still felt a little insecure. She didn't like the clerk and the way he had looked at her. He had stripped her bare with his glances and she knew it wouldn't take much carelessness on her part to have him get out of line. She had never seen such a raw animal lust in a man's eyes before as they had locked on the cleavage showing between her large ripe breasts. Her hands inadvertently covered them as she trembled repulsively at the thought of his hands on her.

She picked up the glass of tea from the table by the bed and sipped it thirstily. In spite of the lewd appraisal of her body by the clerk, she was glad Monique had sent the tea. It was cool and refreshing, though it had a slight bitterness to it. Must be from the mint, she thought, as she stretched her long smooth body down the length of the bed, draining the last drop from the tall refreshing glass.

nightfly1966

27-06-2010, 01:40 AM

Yap...tat's how a Liverpool's book started a story...=)

Thx bro... =)

ahSoon

27-06-2010, 01:41 AM

Chapter 2/15 (continue 3)
She stretched languidly, relaxed sweetly by the hypnotizing bitterness of the drink and pressed the switch by the bed that turned off the light hanging above her. The room faded into a pleasant semi-darkness as her eyes fluttered closed into a strange floating half-sleep. Her mind seemed to remain in an almost waking state as she could feel the nerve ends of her body floating below her into a deep, deep, softness that seemed like a gentle fleece-lined cloud beneath her. The pleasant intoxicating mint odor curled strangely through her nostrils bringing dreams of sun and roses and Kevin the deepest warmth she had ever known, descended from somewhere above, and dropped gently the alluring veil of near sleep over her.

end of Chapter 2

ahSoon

28-06-2010, 10:25 AM

The Abducted Bride by Jon Reskind

Chapter 3/15
From a broom closet next to the room of the American girl, the Arab peered hungrily through the small hole bored through the wall. He could see her slowly remove the thin robe she was wearing, exposing the flimsy night gown that covered her firm luscious body only down to the tops of her full well-rounded thighs.

He smiled in anticipation when he saw her lift the glass of tea to her lips and drink deeply from it. He held his breath as she winced slightly from the initial bitter taste; then breathed feely again as the puzzled look disappeared from her face and she drank again. Small beads of perspiration broke from his forehead as she reclined back on the bed, her feet facing directly at the hole through which he was observing her. The sparse nylon gown snaked its way up over the white flat plane of her belly, exposing the dark soft silkiness that covered the junction of her slightly spread legs. The thin red hair-lined slit was temptingly visible running the length of her open crotch.

His bulging eyes followed the contours of the hips up over the rising and falling rib-cage to the large white rounded spheres of her breasts. They were set slightly close together and through the thin covering, he could sec their turgid nipples rising into tantalizing little buds. His mouth watered He could hardly wait to get his hands and mouth on those and to twist and churn them into the rock hardness of passion. He had never had an American girl before and he had heard they were passionless haughty things who ruled over their men with an iron-hand. He would see soon. His potion never failed. He had used it often on the women Madame Monique had brought here and not one had been able to resist its maddening aphrodisiac effect.

He would show this proud little American bitch who had everything and who had dismissed him as so much dirt when he had tried to be friendly. It wouldn't be long now as she had turned the glass up and drained the last lethal drops for it. He clenched his fist tightly as she squirmed around on the bed before him and pushed the light switch, plunging the room into semi-darkness. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the change but he could still see her slim form stretched sensuously down the length of the bed. Her thighs had fallen apart a little more now and he could make out dimly the dark wisp that covered the mound of her lower belly. His tongue ran inadvertently around the moist edges of his lips as he fingered the master key in his pocket. He would have to wait a few more minutes. He wanted no crying out, the potion must have time to reach its full effect. His body was soaked in a sweat now from the thought of that haughty young bitch squirming in helpless surrender beneath his excited body. The seconds of waiting ticking by seemed like hours ... til finally he could stand it no longer. He returned to the hallway, carefully tiptoeing down to the room and fitting the key quietly into the door. He opened it slowly, pushing his head into the darkened room, to see if there was any sound. There was none but the soft breathing of the motionless form on the bed. He closed the door softly behind him, locking it to insure there would be no disturbing them.

The Arab looked intensely through the darkness at the bed. The head of the sleeping girl was facing straight ahead at the ceiling. Her eyes were clenched tightly shut as if in a deep hard sleep, yet she moved slightly from time to time as though dreams were coming to her from the haze of the other world she had slipped into.

He moved cat-like around the foot of the bed, not taking his gaze from the reclining figure sprawled limply back on it. She had drawn one knee up flat on the bed even with her hip, the smooth white flesh of the inner thigh gleamed faintly in the darkness. The soft dark hairs covering the exposed, still tightly closed lips of her vagina, were plainly visible now to his beady eyes as they adjusted themselves to the darkness of the shaded room.

He involuntarily drew in his breath at the unbelievable sight before him. He had fucked many drugged young women before on this same bed, but never anything like this. Never anything so pure, innocent, and proud. Never anything that he would enjoy humiliating so much.

The thought of helpless mewling grunts of pleasure coming from those untouchable lips, that had scorned him before, goaded his organ into rock-hardness. He could feel the blood throbbing painfully into its large expanded head, tiny droplets of thick white seminal fluid had already begun to seep from the sensitive contracting gland at its tip, smearing wetly against his thin thigh. He silently opened the fly of his pants, easing the pain slightly.

He slowly massaged the heavy thick foreskin back and forth over the jerking head as he advanced around the bed toward the proud young bitch who now lay totally at his mercy. The drug had done its work well and he now intended to teach this haughty young American to scorn him as she and all of her kind had when he tried to be nice to them. This rod he held in his hands was the great equalizer and he'd see if she treated him like a cur dog when rammed deep between those open thighs and buried the head far up inside her aristocratic little belly.

ahSoon

28-06-2010, 10:27 AM

Chapter 3/15 (continue)
His pants dropped heavily to the floor as he opened the last button at the top and fully exposed his long thick member. It stood out in proud menacing erection over the spread eagle body on the bed beneath. He slowly unbuttoned the soiled sweat covered shirt and threw it to the chair in the corner. He left his shoes and socks on in case the French woman, Monique, returned and he had to get out in a hurry. He had locked the downstairs door so she would have to ring to get in. This would give him plenty of warning. He didn't intend to leave this delicious young bitch until he had drained them both dry of every ounce of strength in their bodies.

He stood for a moment longer over her motionless body, stroking himself into a rigidity that threatened to explode into streaming white hot spurts at any moment. For a second, he considered it. It would be a beautiful sight to see his hard penis throbbing out its load into the helpless girls face and down over her soft white tits. He lewdly pictured it dribbling down over her chin to the hollow of her throat and forming warm sticky pools between those lush soft breasts. But no, he had better not. He had to clean it all up. She must never know she had been fucked. If she did, and told the French lady, he would lose his job and maybe his life. She was connected with the big boys in the racket and they might not like his sampling the merchandise every time they brought it in.

He couldn't resist one thing before he climbed on her. He knew the risk was great of losing his load, but he had to see those proud little ruby lips around it just for a moment. He had thought so much about it while he was downstairs waiting until she was alone. He kneeled down on the edge of the bed by her head and turned it gently toward his erected penis. When it was several inches away, he pushed his hips slowly forward toward her upturned face, laying the wet sticky underside of the throbbing head between the small valley formed by her closed pink lips. He placed one thumb under her nose and the other on her chin, pulling slowly out until the underside of the heavy head dropped slightly through the stretched lips and rested against her white bared teeth, the soft flesh of the pink puckered lips forming a furrow along its length. He flexed his hips slightly back and forth until several small droplets of cum oozed from his throbbing gland, and lubricated the mouth that was half surrounding it. He could feel the warm air from her nostrils pushing hotly against it as she breathed in and out restlessly.

Looking down directly into her face, he could see small rivulets run slowly down the corners of her mouth on either side, dribbling like tears down the sides of her cheeks. God, he would like to shoot his hot stream down that soft palpitating throat and see the adams-apple bob up and down as she gulped it into her. Maybe later, if she was left alone again and he was sure he had more time.

He reached one hand down to the hem of the flimsy negligee, pulling it up slowly over her rounded snow-white belly, over the large globular magnificence of her tits, until her whole naked body was exposed. He had seen it through the peephole when he was watching her undress but it hadn't excited him nearly as much as having it here now, spread helplessly beneath him, where he could touch and fondle it to his hearts content.

With the thumb and forefinger of the right hand he reached over and pushed her lips tighter against the purple veined member between them, gently continuing the slow sawing motion. The other hand moved over the magnificent breasts tweaking the nipples between his fingers until he could feel them mechanically hardening under his caressing.

The girl shifted slightly beneath him, moaning softly as though aware of his presence. He held still--frightened for a moment that the potion had not done its work completely. His rod fell from between her loose lips down over her chin, leaving thin threads of warm white stickiness trailing behind it.

"Kevin, darling," she mumbled thickly through the fog of the drug. "I've been waiting, waiting so long. My darling husband--come to me--come to me."

Jean had been aware of the movement in the room and Kevin's shadowy figure coming to her. She felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her and that now things would be all right. He would be gentle with her now and take her as she had always dreamed he would. She could feel her blood begin to stir deep within her body. A body he would possess in a moment. She wouldn't fail him this time.

The Arab smiled to himself above her. The mixture had worked its magic as it always did.

The bitch thinks I'm her husband, he chuckled lewdly to himself, she'll see the difference before I'm finished.

He stroked the giant throbbing penis slowly, reaching down and running his other hand over the awakening mounds of her tits and down over her belly to the soft fleshy folds of her cunt below.

"Ohhh, darling, darling, I'm sorry," the girl droned beneath him. "I didn't want to leave, I didn't want to leave. Be gentle with me, Kevin, be gentle with me."

Jean dreamed on, her body becoming alert now to the caresses of the magic hands that were stroking her flesh into a hot sheet of desire. Tiny goose-bumps sprang out over the whiteness of her sensitive flesh.

ahSoon

28-06-2010, 10:28 AM

Chapter 3/15 (continue 2)
God, how she wanted him, her body ached to be touched gently and with understanding as he was doing it now!

She pushed the mad rape he had subjected her to from her thoughts and just wanted to make up for all that time she had denied him and herself the joys of merging their bodies as one. She wanted him to crawl up inside her, to possess her and quiet the thunder that was building up deep, deep, inside from his maddening fingertips playing over her defenseless nakedness.

Maybe he would understand her now, understand that she had suffered as much as he had and that she had wanted him too. Now it was different, her thoughts flickered on hazily, he was here with her and they were married and she could give herself to him without fear of guilt or God's punishment. God would understand now, they were man and wife.

Her tongue ran slowly around her moist lips, savoring the sticky pungent taste of the strange moisture that covered them--the odor wafed through her flared nostrils, breathing it deep inside her body. It did strange things to her, the odor and taste coursed through her entire being like a sweet soothing balm lighting tiny fires in her growing nipples and causing a throbbing in the nerve ends inside her tight hot vagina. She could feel dew-drops of moisture rising there between her open legs as the exposed hair-lined lips began a slow spasmodic contracting, throbbing wetly against each other.

"Ohhh, Kevin, Kevin, darling, take me now, touch me, rub me, Ohhh, yess, yessss, like that, like that," she moaned, helplessly caught up in the sharp deep pricks of lust that were dancing through her.

The Arab grinned, his yellow teeth showing through the unshaven stubble around his lips---his greedy eyes feasting lewdly on her unconsciously squirming nakedness.

He moved around on the bed, crouching on all fours over the white moving body, pushing her unresisting milk-white thighs wide apart. He crawled between them, his knees pressed between her ankles and his face panting a few inches above the hair-covered vee of her open crotch. His mouth watered as his eyes looked down at it rotating sensuously, expectantly, just below his lips. Saliva dripped from his open mouth, mingling with her juices in the delicious narrow split that started at the bottom of the smooth white belly and trailed down through the rounded creamy spheres of her buttocks pressed tightly against the mattress.

Through half slit eyes, Jean could see the shadowy form of her husband crouching between her open legs. She could feel the flat palms of sweating hands pushing against the softness of her inner thighs, holding them wide apart. Her secret treasure was open to him to do as he willed. She watched with baited breath as his head lowered slowly--slowly--slowly--then!

"Ohhhhh!" she jerked, as his hot moist lips closed over the soft mound at the base of her belly. His hazy face disappeared from her view into the soft fleece as he planted wet tickling kisses on the still closed aperture, his tongue flicking lizard-like at the quivering opening.

Her own hands moved sensuously down over her throbbing breasts and slid slowly down her smooth, flat stomach, coming to rest on either side of his lips. Her fingers stroked softly for a moment at the flexing hollows of her inner thighs--then, slowly spread the fleshy hair-lined lips of the moist wet furrow apart, allowing his hungry devouring lips complete access to her moist secret being.

Her elbows pressed tightly against her ribs and her head lolled uncontrollably from side to side on the pillow as the hot searing tongue shot out, its soft flicking tip circling the quivering erected clitoris- the lips sucked, drawing the warm soft folds deep into the hot cavern of his mouth, the tongue continued its maddening licking against the straining pink bud of her sex she groaned huskily from deep in her throat as the hot probing tip worked its way up and down the length of the narrow wet slit, starting at the lower belly and pressuring its way dowel, down over the elastic rimmed opening of her clasping vagina and into the crevice of her flexing buttocks where it stopped momentarily to do a wet probing homage to the tight brown throbbing hole. Her hips ground uncontrollably into the squeaking bed now, soft mewling animal sounds escaped pitifully from between her passion clenched teeth.

'The Arab worked hungrily, feeling the soft wet pubic hair brushing tantalizing against his cheeks. A feeling of power was in him. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever expected to have such a proud pure bitch like this squirming under his tongue and completely at his mercy--and she was loving it--her groans drove his tongue faster as it worked its way up and down the steaming hot crotch. He wanted her begging for it when he was ready to ram it to her and she was almost there. He had never seen anyone so hot, even with the potion. She needed it bad and she was getting it--and this was just the beginning.

He knew she was too far gone now to fight anything he did to her and his mind began to form weird erotic pictures of the positions he could put her in and the things he could do at will to her limp desire
wracked body.

He chuckled obscenely as he felt her hands desperately clawing at his greasy black hair, guiding his face to the palpitating opening of her cunt. He ran his tongue into the soft rimmed flesh, flicking at it for a moment--and then quickly withdrawing it to tease again around the ragged pink edges.

ahSoon

28-06-2010, 10:30 AM

Chapter 3/15 (continue 3)
He let her force him this time pressing his mouth, directly over the tight little hole in her squirming crotch.

As his lips rounded and covered the clasping viscous opening, he thrust his tongue deep down into it, bringing a low guttural groan from the girl whose soft warm thighs closed convulsively around either side of his moving head. He could feel the wet flesh slip moistly around his long extended tongue as the walls of the invaded vagina opened and closed in a sucking motion, attempting to pull it deeper and deeper into it. It felt as though the nibbling hair-lined mouth would pull his tongue out by the roots, devouring it alive. Her heels pushed down against his back pressing his body into the flesh trap until he couldn't breath, his nose was smashed tightly against the tiny hard clitoris above, breathing in the pungent odor of the lust juice that was now flowing in abundance from it. It incited his penis to a hardness that he could no longer control--he had to fuck this little bitch now or he would explode all over the mattress.

Jean's body was lost in the fire of the moment. Every muscle in her body was tensed as she strained her hips upward toward that maddening probe between her legs. Kevin was a god. She had never expected it could be like this, that he could bring such things from her body.

Her love for him incited her further. Her up-drawn legs opened and closed around the tormenting head that was licking gluttonously at her flame seared hole. The cords of her neck stand out as she pulled with all her strength against the tangled hair of his head.

"Oh! Ohhh! Aggghhh!" she moaned, splaying her legs wider and wider to give him greater access.

The Arab could stand it no longer. He grabbed her flailing legs behind the knees and shoved them roughly back against her shoulders, slithering up her sweat soaked body at the same time. His rigid stiff cock brushed against the wet dripping pubic hair. He planted his hands on either side of her shoulders, her ankles locked tightly behind his neck. He could look down between their bodies and see her upturned ass completely exposed to him.

The expanded narrow cunt-slit was visibly throbbing its lips in invitation, the wet moist furrow held wide apart by the pressure of his thighs pressed tightly up against hers.

Jean could see Kevin hovering over her through her passion and drug dimmed eyes. She could feel the hugeness of his fleshy hardness lying the full length of her quivering open slit. The jerking head of his cock rested throbbing between her wide-spread buttocks; insinuating itself up and down, up and down, in a maddening tease that caused her to twist her hips down toward it, her hungry cunt searching desperately for its hard blood filled tip.

She had to have it in her! Her belly screamed for it!

She reached her hands in panic down underneath the grinding cheeks of her ass and grasped the full length of the stone-hard member. Her tightly closed fists stroked it softly in reverence. She could feel the spasmodic throbbing against her soft palms and the sticky fluid that oozed in driblets from the blood inflated head. She guided it up the valley of her buttocks, not letting it lose contact with her flesh until it was poised between the mucous covered flanges of her vagina. She held it there with one hand and placed the other on her husband's buttocks, drawing with all her strength to pull it into her and let it drown the gnawing hot heat that burned out of control in her belly.

The Arab grinned obscenely above her. It was all he could do to keep from shoving forward now and impaling this squirming little bitch on his aching cock, but the desire to punish her and her kind for all the times they had shit on him by their disdainful looks when he had spoken to them, overcame the desire. This one typified them all, she was everything he wanted to humiliate. Proud, innocent, spoiled by the condescending young men of her kind who did her every bidding. If one ever needed punishing, this one did. Well, he would do it, he would fuck her till she couldn't walk.

He received ever greater satisfaction from the knowledge that he would know afterwards and she wouldn't. She might treat him the same as she did before but he would know that he had plowed her good and left his white hot sperm deep in her cunt. He might even make her pregnant. This though excited him even more, a lowly immigrant Arab, refugee from his own country, desk clerk, making this proud haughty bitch pregnant. Filling her belly with a child and she wouldn't even know the father. The lewd thought caused him to involuntarily flick his hips forward.

Jean felt the lips around her throbbing vagina pushed open. The elastic rimmed tightness resisted for a moment, then gave way before the hard cruel pressure. The pain was harsh and she mechanically resisted for a moment, emitting a long low groan from deep within her throat. He liked that, he liked hearing her hurt.

He shoved again--a deeper groan--he wanted to hear her scream for mercy. And suddenly, he could stand it no more. He rammed forward with everything he had, sinking the lust inflated cock all the way to the hilt. He could feel his balls slap tightly against her jerking anus that screwed itself deep down into the mattress attempting to escape the cruel sudden impalement. Her legs jerked out wide on either side of his thin emaciated body, splaying over either edge of the beds kicking futiley into the air.

ahSoon

28-06-2010, 10:31 AM

Chapter 3/15 (continue 4)
"Kevin! Ke-Kevinnn! Nooooo! Nooooooo!" she screamed, her impaled form pinned helplessly to the bed. With each jerk, the huge head seemed to burrow deeper into her. The Arab's outstretched arms pinned her shoulders tightly to the mattress, his wide-spread knees held her thighs split far apart. She felt as though her body was being torn down the middle and that she would be ripped in half from this giant instrument imbedded deep in her middle. The fiery plunging rod felt as though it was coming out her throat as its blood-filled head pressed hard against her cervix, buffeting her head back harshly against the headboard of the bed.

He watched her from above with a lascivious grin on his lips. Her face was contorted with the pain of that first vicious stab. Her lips curled back from her teeth, pleading, incoherent whimpers coming from deep in her throat. Her arms were outstretched, palms against his hips, attempting to hold back the blunt hard head pressing against her womb like a great hard stone.

She's never had it this deep, he gloated to himself, as he held her pinned in the lewd humiliating position. He looked down again and could see his curly black pubic hair tangled tightly with hers, the base of his thick fleshy rod buried deep into the pink throbbing furrow that his tongue had licked to moist receptiveness a moment ago. He could see the tight lips of the cunt stretched almost to the bursting point, the rubbery outer pink rim clasping tightly around the dark skinned base of his cock.

He held her there for a moment, savoring the spectacle of this proud little bitch impaled helplessly under him, with his huge rod buried deep in her white little belly. He wished her husband could see her now, spread-eagle this way with a lowly Arab servant making her scream and yell. He was going to give her a fuck she would never forget as long as she lived.

Jean squirmed helplessly beneath him. She could feel the hot searing pain of his sudden blunt entry tearing cruelly at her insides. She flexed her crotch muscles tightly together to attempt to ward off the huge invading cudgel, but the throb of her internal sinews seemed to incite it more and it plowed its way deeper and deeper into her vainly resisting passage. The walls of her cringing cunt clasped around it like a glove. She could feel its every fleshy ridge as her nerve ends transmitted its monstrous form in minute detail to her muddled mind like a telegraph line.

It was alive inside her! The hard rubbery tip pressing against her cervix, the thin folds of flesh along its length, the tickling hairs of the balls dangling in the crevice of her ass were part of her. She was one with it and in spite of her pain her tongue began a wild licking at the wetness of her lips. He had smeared them well with his cum and her nostrils flared again, drawing the pungent odor deep into her body, mingling it in strange marriage with the feeling of the throbbing cock lodged deep in her white soft belly. It all seemed to roll together into one great fiery ball of aching hunger for more. Her cunt contracted involuntarily as the lascivious thoughts raced through her mind.

The Arab felt the slight throbbing pressure exerted against his buried penis. He had waited for it, hovering motionless over her prostrate form patiently until she became accustomed to his thick presence rammed so deep in her belly. He flexed the member gently, expanding it inside her, but still not moving his body.

"Oh," she whimpered, through bared teeth, fighting the fine line of pleasure-pain.

He waited a moment, and flexed again, watching her contorted face below. The mouth hung limply open, the eyes clenched tightly shut.

"Oooooohhhh!" She held her breath as the buried cock expanded more, stretching the narrow passage walls farther apart.

He flexed again, this time setting a slow teasing rhythm to his throbs. He watched her nostrils begin a slow hesitant flaring in time to the beat. Soft mewling sounds of pleasure came from her open mouth in time to his gentle ministrations.

"Ooooohhhh--Darling, darling."

He could foil her urgent answering throbs began around the head of his penis. The wet clasping cunt flesh began a soft opening and closing around his pulsating member.

He did not move, but continued the slow rhythmic throbs into the skewered girl beneath him. He could hardly contain himself as her grunts of pleasure resounded through the otherwise still room. Her head lolled from side to side unconsciously on the pillow as her hips began a slow involuntary roll beneath his impaling rod. He clenched his teeth tightly together as he felt her hungry nibbling crotch screwing itself up tighter against his hair-covered pelvis.

Jean's body felt itself coming to life now. The pain was receding and was slowly giving way to a maddening electric tingle that began deep within her womb and seeped relentlessly through the raw nerve ends of her flesh. It rippled through her cunt and out the fleece-lined lips, dancing like fire across the milky-white thighs, up the full length of her splayed legs and circled around inside her toes, curling them tightly against the bottoms of her feet. It worked its way up from her contracting belly through her rib cage and out to the tips of her pink palpitating nipples, which peaked into hard tiny buds, sensitive to even the touch of the stale close air about them. Thin rivulets of sweat rolled down the sides of the full pulsating mounds, wetting the mattress beneath her.

ahSoon

28-06-2010, 10:32 AM

Chapter 3/15 (continue 5)
She rotated her hips from side to side around the fleshy impaling member, her vagina, dilating in time to its rhythmic beating. It felt as though it had a heart imbedded in the papitating head whose heat against her inner passage was becoming a part of her being. She was one with it. She and her darling Kevin were one fleshy mass of sensation, merged magically together by their love. He had crawled into her! He was a part of her!

The Arab could hardly contain his glee as he felt her pelvis begin screwing up against the length of his rock hard penis. The tiny contracting muscles inside her cunt were nibbling hungrily at the inflated head. The dilated lips between her hair-lined pink slit pulled tantalizingly away, sliding moistly down the rod for several inches and then nibbling slowly back up buffering her soft down tightly against his pubic hair embedding the full length of him deep into her warm white belly. He stayed immobile, resting still above her with his hands on either side of her shoulders, his knees pressed tight against the mattress. He let her quivering body pump up and down at will on his rigid piston that fused them together.

He could see its slow withdrawal between them pulling thin soft ridges of her pink flesh out with it as she screwed her pelvis down into the mattress and the entry--pushing the soft folds back into her and the moist shiny length was swallowed whole back into the salacious opening. He let her strain against him for a while, watching the utter abandon of her labors, a half-crazed ecstatic smile playing across her lips. Her motions became faster by the second, the tempo of her thrusts up against him became more urgent--her teeth bit hard into her lower lip. He knew she was straining to come--the juices of her milking vagina were beginning to flow and he could hear the wet sucking sound of the in and out sawing movement as she suddenly thrust sharply up his cock, burying it deep inside her, her back arched a foot off the squeaking bed, her feet planted flat on either side of his knees tightly against the mattress. She bucked against him wildly.

"Oh, God, yes, yes. I'm coming darling, I'm coming, Aaaggh!"

Suddenly, with a deep throated groan, her body began vibrating uncontrollably--wet white cum oozed from the throbbing passage, drowning his impaling member with its sticky warmth and trickling down the crevice of her white globular buttocks over his balls that pressed hard against the tiny brown puckered anus.

The Arab went berserk as she grunted out the last of her juices against his matted pelvis, her body still jerking spasmodically up against him. He reached back, grabbing her ankles and pushing them brutally back over her shoulders until she was rolled up into a tight round ball of helplessness beneath him. Her knees were pushed back tightly over her shoulders against the mattress on either side of her head, the wide-spread split between her legs completely open to his desire.

He withdrew the deeply imbedded instrument until just the tip of the head rested in her. Then, he rammed forward with all his stored up bitter strength. He had waited to destroy this little bitch. She had had her fun and now it was his turn. The full throbbing length of the incited member sunk cruelly into her helpless exposed vagina. He could hear the wet flat smack as his belly thudded against her crotch. His body dropped down heavily on her, mashing her full ripe tits tightly against his chest. He locked his saliva covered mouth over hers, thrusting his wet dripping tongue deep in her throat, stifling the low animal grunts fanning there. His shoulders pushing against the backs of her full rounded calves kept her locked in that helpless position as he rammed it to her. Reaching around beneath them, he forced his hands between the mattress and the white full cheeks of her ass, cupping them in his spread fingers and palms, kneading the warm soft flesh, pulling the white rounded cheeks far apart.

He began long hard strokes into the streaming passage that was now wet and slippery from her climb withdrawing the head until just the tip was inside the hot clammy opening and then thrusting forward hard with his hips until his balls were screwed tightly against the wide split crack of her buttocks.

Jean groaned helplessly as her exposed cunt was plundered again almost beyond endurance. He was driving her head hard back against the headboard of the bed with each jack-hammer thrust and she couldn't fight from her hopeless position. Her arms were pinned down at her sides by her own up-drawn legs. She could feel the giant head sliding up and down inside her warm viscous passage like a feathered piston and the hot slap of his soft hair-covered balls against her anus as he jerked forward on the down stroke. Cool mad rushes of air rushed between her thighs as he withdrew.

ahSoon

28-06-2010, 10:33 AM

Chapter 3/15 (continue 6)
Her womb flared and the resisting lips of her hair-lined furrow flowered open to receive the delicious rape of her secret genitals. Her hands forced themselves desperately from under her legs and snaked around his back. The nails clawed a red streaked path down to his flexing buttocks. She pulled him deep and thrust her fleece covered belly up hard to skewer herself deliciously on the driving hot flesh of his pumping rod. She sucked voraciously on the thick wet tongue that was shoved deep in her throat through the yellow teeth of the Arabs obscene grin. She swallowed greedily the droplets of his saliva that ran down it in her lewd excitement. The foul pungent odor of his breath, incited rather than repelled her drugged senses. Her body began to match his pounding lunges with her own rhythmic thrashing.

The rusty bedsprings squeaked loudly in time to the two tightly entwined bodies struggling wildly against each other. The sounds of deep straining grunts and groans filled the hot stifling air of the room, mingling with the noise of sweat soaked flesh smacking sharply against sweat soaked flesh and the wet viscous slurp of his pile driving cock going in and out of her mucous lined cunt.

"Hot bitch, hot bitch, hot bitch," the Arab mumbled over and over to himself as he ceaselessly rammed the blood filled cudgel deep into her white round screaming little belly with long cruel jabs. He could feel the hot white cum building up inside his heated balls as they beat hard against her upturned ass. It was ready to explode. He wildly shoved his tongue far down her throat and with harshly kneading hands pulled the wide-spread cheeks of her white little buttocks hard up against his grinding pelvis as he rammed his spewing cock all the way to the hilt in her soft unresisting cunt.

Jean could feel her insides splitting painfully as the head of the deep sunk tormenting instrument suddenly flared into a hugeness that threatened to tear her womb wide asunder--it began to spurt--and she could feel the delicious hot white liquid r hooting into her like burning fire, ricocheting around inside her dilated stomach like streams of molten lava. The pores of her cunt clasped around it, erupting in answer and again spilling her own white hot cum into the already drowning cavern of her pink quivering passage.

It drove her insane!

She couldn't let it stop!

She reached frantically around under her squirming buttocks with both hands and began to desperately milk at the balls pressed into the split of her behind. Her legs kicked out, quivering uselessly in the air on either side of the bed. The huge member continued to jerk its completion--white hot spurts still spewed from its head, filling her womb and foaming out the contracting fleshy lips around the base of his cock, soaking the soft matted pubic hair it was buried in.

"Oh, fill me, fill me, darling," she groaned incoherently around the swabbing tongue still sunk deep in her mouth. The hot walls of her jerking cunt sucked at the throbbing cock hungrily, until it gave one final spasmodic jerk, the last drop sucked from it.

The Arab collapsed across her body, feeling her insides still gushing forth around his deflated limp prick. It seemed endless, until she too suddenly gave one last jerk and quivered to a limp stillness, her legs protruding lifelessly out on either side of his fatigued body. Her arms outstretched, one dangling doll-like over the edge of the beck Her belly was filled to the bursting point with the mixture of their hot sticky-white cum.

He lay still for a moment to recover his strength and then slowly pulled himself off the unconscious girl's still form, his cock sliding slowly out of her battered cunt. He could see the wet matted hair of her well fucked furrow glistening wetly in the faint light. The insides of her thighs were smeared lewdly with the white-sticky juice. It dripped in tiny rivulets down the crevice of her ass, forming a dark wet circle on the mattress beneath.

The Arab smiled down at her, pulling his clothes on quietly. He'd like to fuck this hot little bitch again right now, but he knew he had better not. He had been there for over two hours now and he knew the French lady would be coming back soon. He couldn't take the chance now but he promised himself he would get her again later. He couldn't let this hot little American off this easy.

He took one last look at her lewdly splayed form, her mouth hanging loosely open in contented sleep. She must still be dreaming of the fucking he had given her, he smirked obscenely to himself. Maybe I had better help. He reached over her body between her still wide-spread thighs and ran his middle finger up the glistening cunt-lips moistening it with the mixture of both their cum. He rubbed the finger then around her open red lips and under her nostrils. This should give her something to puzzle over when she wakes up. The thought amused him and he laughed softly to himself. How he would like to see her face when she awoke, trying to figure out what happened.

The thought of his hot full load sloshing around deep in that unknowing little belly stirred him again as he closed and locked the door behind him.

ahSoon

28-06-2010, 10:34 AM

Chapter 3/15 (continue 7)
"God, I hope she's pregnant," he muttered half aloud to himself as he descended the stairs to the reception desk, his steps a bit unsteady. He could hardly wait to look her in the eye later tonight, knowing that he had fucked her silly for over two hours. That would be revenge enough for the scornful looks she had given him but he hoped he would have the chance again. Next time he would really throw it to that hot little body. He whistled happily to himself.

to be continue....

ahSoon

28-06-2010, 10:54 AM

Remember those good old days without internet technology ? the only sex education we ( >40) learn from is through those small tiny books and sex magazines (porn photos). I still can remember I bought my first Adult Books (Erotic Fiction) from a "mama" store (those India stalls), the title is "Thirst of a Mother" publish by Liverpool. I am still holding this piece after many years, it becomes my treasure.

Now some of you out there knows Liverpool books are popular in sex story, I manage to have a few copies on hand and willing to share with other bros for remembering those good old days, therefore I am starting this new thread starting to post some of this story fictions. I need encouragement from all bros that interested, up my points if you like it.

If poor responds there is no points for my to continue posting.

I think many bro find chapter 1 and 2 is "boring" (not much of sex scene), I think the best part of Liverpool Press story fiction don't jump straight to strip and do the fucking, it slowly draw you in to the world of erotics, and I can assure you the sex scene illustrated by them is super.

I believe in Chapter 3, many bros will understand what I mean.

pachyderm

28-06-2010, 11:20 AM

Thanks for sharing. Reminds me of bro Kinkl of Bras Basah in the good old days.

ahSoon

29-06-2010, 12:36 AM

The Abducted Bride by Jon Reskind

Chapter 4/15
Monique smiled complacently to herself as she had entered the taxi several hours earlier in front of the hotel. She had reason to be satisfied. After all, she mused, this was the fourth girl she had brought to Marseille in the past month and the market for them was good. Since the tourists had stopped going to Algiers because of the Arab takeover, the demand for young white girls to fill the Arab brothels was almost unlimited. They were bringing up to two or three thousand American dollars each, particularly the young fresh unused ones like the girl she had back at the hotel. She was certain she could get a premium for her. She was her best catch so far and she had to play her cards just right and get the right buyer. She thought she had him in Gamal. He liked the innocent ones and was willing to pay well for them. He would get his personal pound of flesh and then ship them off to Algiers for the Arab market. She almost hated to see this sweet young American turned over to a sadistic beast like him but money was money and his perverted depravity should be no concern of hers. She had to be cold and calculated about it, after all, she was a business woman and if she played her cards right could retire in a few years on a substantial income from her earnings.

The cab followed the Rue Marriane outside the city along the coast for several miles and pulled into the grounds of a large ocean front villa. The iron filigree gate was guarded by several dark Algerians with pistols strapped to their sides. Upon recognizing her, they waved the car through without trouble. She was well known by them as a frequent visitor so did not have to go through the usual formalities required to get into the fortress-like walls.

The cypress drive leading to the main villa was almost half a mile long and they passed several of the familiar patrols that roamed through the estate. The patrols all traveled in twos and had a pair of viscous looking black Alsatian dogs with them. They were trained to kill and Gamal had confided to her that they had done so several times when Interpol agents had tried to penetrate the grounds. They, of course, had disappeared without trace and Gamal had allowed the local police to enter and search the premises. This was a token search and all evidence of the various illegalities he was engaged in had been removed to a secret subterranean cellar. Besides, he had also confided that the police chief of the area was a frequent visitor of his and kept him dutifully informed of any official action that might be brewing against him. The system had obviously worked well as Gamal had been doing this since the end of the war and had become a very wealthy man. It was rumored that he had connections in the higher ministries in Paris and even among the staff of Interpol itself. Monique believed this, due to the immensity of his operations. No one could exist so long and on such a scale unless he was receiving important political protection from somewhere higher up than the local police.

The cab rounded the curved drive and pulled up in front of a huge white stucco house. It had a typical Mediterranean red tiled roof and was surrounded by the most beautiful tropical gardens Monique had ever seen. She enjoyed doing business with Gamal just to be able to pay these periodic visits to this fabulous villa. It must have cost him at least five million new francs to build it in the old days. At today's prices, it would be impossible to calculate the true value.

Monique was met at the door by one of his burly guards and escorted to Gamal's study. She knew she wouldn't have to wait to see him as he was always anxious when she came. She had made it a point early in their relationship to bring him only the best of the young females she lured to Marseille. She had never disappointed him yet and did not intend to now. She knew he would be overjoyed with this tender young Jean because of her almost unbelievable innocence and the fact that she was an American. There was something about Americans that seemed to appeal to the Arab nature. Perhaps it was because they were so much more naive than European women and always seemed to have such an untouched clean appearance. This gave them something to soil and humiliate. They all seemed to enjoy this and gave them something upon which to unleash the full vent of their natural base nature. Monique was only too familiar with the degradations they would force upon their own women much less a poor foreigner that was completely defenseless. She had seen some of the poor wretched girls she had sold them after a few months in their hands and had she not been so desperate to be financially independent, she could not have had the stomach for the business. In fact, as of late, she had found herself becoming more and more like them. Perhaps, she would make it a condition with Gamal that she would get to see the initiation of this Jean into her new life. This thought coursed warmly through her as the guard held the door open for her to enter.

"Hello, my dear Monique," the short fat obsequious looking man said, rising from behind the large oaken desk. "It's so good to see you again. You haven't paid me a visit in such a long time."

ahSoon

29-06-2010, 12:38 AM

Chapter 4/15 (continue)
"Oh, Gamal, you silly man, it's only been a month since I've been here. You know it takes time to find the right ones for you. Your tastes are so special and refined that it takes a lot of screening. You wouldn't want me showing up here with just anything I run across, now would you?" Monique flashed her warming coyish smile at him, fluttering her eyelids slightly in a mock scolding manner.

"Of course not, my love, I understand your concern for my welfare," the Arab said, drawing his arm around her waist in a friendly hug, his dark balding head reaching barely to her shoulders. "If I didn't know this so well, I would think it was just my generous presents to you that caused your deep concern."

"Now, now, Gamal," Monique admonished as she pulled his creeping hand from behind her buttocks, "save yourself for the little bird whose wings I've clipped for you. She's just what you've been after."

Gamal's eyes lit up perceptibly at the mention that Monique had something for him. He knew her well enough by now to know that she, unlike most women or people who had something to sell him, didn't exaggerate. If she was enthusiastic about it, then she was worth listening to.

"Come, my dear, let us sit down with a small aperitif and discuss this little bird. I've tired of the last one you sent."

"Gamal," Monique kidded, "you mean you didn't like her?"

"Oh, yes my dove," he cooed. "I liked her very much, but one month with the same girl is a little too much. You know they tire so quickly when left in my care. A pity too, just when I have them trained well to appreciate my little playful sessions, they seem to lose their fire.

"I suppose you have passed her on to your playmates in Algeria as usual," Monique said.

"Yes, she went rather reluctantly, but I am a businessman and can't let my investments sit too long without making a return on them. Must keep the money moving, you know," he said slyly. A secretive grin directed at Monique. "I have some excellent movies made of her that will go well on the British market though, you'll have to see them later."

"I'd love to some other time, Gamal," Monique replied, sipping at the whiskey he had poured her. "Right now, I think we had better discuss my new little donation to your pleasures. I think you will be very interested."

"Tell me about her, my dear. When I see so much enthusiasm in your eyes, I know it must be something special," the Arab chided, his face brightening at the thought of what was in store.

"First, Gamal, you know I only bring you the best, correct?" Monique asked, looking at him over the edge of her upraised glass.

"Yes, I feel you do well for me, but I have had problems with some of them," he added the last sentence quickly, sensing that the bargaining was beginning. "You know, they are young and so unworldly, I must do much training to prepare them for my clients."

"Why you old lecher," Monique laughed, "you know very well that's why you're in this business, so you can sample the merchandise before you pass it on to your friends."

"My dear, my dear," the Arab objected, raising his hands, "it is not for I, Gamal, that I do these things. I must do them to make certain my reputation as a businessman is respected. My clients are the wealthiest in Algiers and I dare not send them something that I myself have not trained to perfection."

"Yes, Gamal, you train them until they lose their fire, you said?" Monique chided, raising an eyebrow toward him.

"Ah, but there are ways of restoring that to them. This is where my drug business assists me."

"Like doping race horses, my dear," she replied. "They have enough for one last dash and then useless."

"Monique, my dear, you are unkind. Let us stop this silly bickering," he said sadly. "You know I am a sincere man and honest. I am in a very competitive business and profits have not been good for the last several years. Do not take advantage of my helpless position, I beg you."

"There, there," Monique consoled in a motherly tone, laughing inside at the show the Arab was putting on. She knew him well by now and knew she would have to sit through his weeping sessions each time she came. All Arabs are the same, she mused to herself. They never grow away from the rug-sellers mentality. It doesn't matter if they, are dealing with one franc or one million, their approach is always the same. Business is bad and your price is too high but because you are a friend they will sacrifice and give you half the price you ask, even though they cry it will drive them to bankruptcy. Well, Monique knew enough by now to ask exactly double the price she expected to get and many tears later they would arrive at that figure. Strange that they weren't more original than this, but they weren't. Perhaps the practice was instilled too deeply in their heritage to ever change.

"Gamal," Monique paused after speaking his name and then said casually, "she's an American."

There was a moment's silence as she let the thought sink into his mind. She observed a slightly perceptible twitch in the corner of his mouth as he grasped what she was saying.

ahSoon

29-06-2010, 12:40 AM

Chapter 4/15 (continue 2)

"Ah, that is too bad, my dear, I thought you had something special for me. You know they have no native abilities for the finer passions. It is a long expensive process to train them well. My investment would be tied up for several months. It would mean such a strain on my meager finances." His face had contorted into its usual piteous plea and he had placed his hand against his forehead in classic sufferance.

"Gamal, my love," Monique purred, "this is no time for theatrics. You know as well as I do that you could buy the Eiffel Tower and it wouldn't dent your purse in the slightest. Besides, you must think of the expenses I have incurred and the danger in bringing her to Marseille." This was all part of the game and they played each time she came. The Arab knew she hadn't spent a franc and would only have to pay the hotel bill when the poor unfortunate girl disappeared, but he had respect for the protocol of bartering and played his part with her.

"I know, my love, and I am willing to help you in this matter but I must watch my expenses. The last one cost me a great deal and I did not receive nearly as much as I paid for her. It was a sacrifice."

Monique knew that he had at least doubled his money after taking a months pleasure for himself and including all expenses of smuggling her out of France and into Algeria. She also could detect that when she had dropped the statement about her being an American it had won her battle. She would get her price and perhaps more. A plan began forming in her mind as she watched the concerned look on Gamal's face. He wanted this girl and Monique now just had to put him in the position where his decision would be made under more emotional circumstances. She knew his weakness of desire to humiliate and if she could arrange it so that the girl would be in a helpless position defenseless against his lust, she could sell her on the spot for a goodly sum.

"I understand your concern, nay dear Gamal," Monique said, still turning the thought over in her mind. "One should never buy without seeing the merchandise first. I think I can arrange this."

This was a new approach and the Arab suddenly sensed that this clever French woman was up to something. He changed his tone and spoke more softly.

"Now, now, my sweet Monique, we needn't go to all that trouble. You know how valuable my time is to me. We can just settle for the same amount we did for the last one, even though she was rather weak. I trust your judgment explicitly."

"No," Monique said, sensing his eagerness, "I want you to make the decision after you see her. She may not be worth that much to you and I want only your happiness. I won't accept a franc more than you think she is worth. Unless, of course," she added slyly, "your opinion does not suit the true value, but I don't think a man with your good eye will make that mistake."

Gamal knew the bargaining was over for the day as he detected a note of finality in Monique's last statement. He knew she had something this time or she wouldn't be so certain of her position. He knew also, that he would probably have to pay dearly for whatever it was she had. Well, he would take a look. He had been doubling his investment on the others she had brought him and perhaps he could do even better with this one. He might even get her down to a lower price than before. At any rate, he gloated to himself after Monique had left, he could hardly wait to get his hands on an American bitch. He hadn't had one in almost a year but he could still remember the pleasure he had in converting her reluctant mind to accept his perverted acts. In fact, he had been forced to almost destroy her mind first. He hoped this one would not be so difficult.

end of chapter 4, to be continue..... (up my points if you like the story)