“Carl, could you make up the beds too?” Mary pointed to a pile of sheets and pillowcases she’d dumped on the living room sofa.
“Really? Couldn’t you do that much yourself?”
Mary turned to look at him. “I’m still working on the curriculum for the first day, right? I’m the teacher.”
“Oh.” With a sigh Carl picked up the pile of sheets and headed out to the barn. He’d spent several weeks converting the barn into the Lake Washington Drama Camp. This was Mary’s dream -- to start up her own drama camp. Their daughter Charlotte would be the first camper. She was 13. And somehow Mary had managed to get three other girls to sign up who were a year or two older.
It was a small barn. This hadn’t been a working farm in decades, and the previous owners had built this barn for the atmosphere. The conversion had meant putting up a stage, meaning a raised platform with a decent floor. He’d hung some strong overhead lights at Mary’s suggestion, and he had to admit it made it created a nice effect. In the back of the barn he’d spiffed up a little half-bath. For a shower he’d jury-rigged a hose mounted on the outside of the back wall of the barn. And he’d made the sleeping quarters out of a former horse stall -- which had never known a horse. Mary had gotten a good deal on craigslist for a pair of used bunk beds. He had to drive an hour and a half each way to haul them back in the pickup, but they would work fine.
The camp would be in the barn, and Mary and Carl would have the house for their own use -- a small house, with just their bedroom, Charlotte’s smaller room, and a living room/kitchen.
Carl made up the four bunk beds.
Saturday morning. One camper arrived, and then another. Mary realized she desperately needed a few more things from the store, so Carl set off on the 20-minute drive to town to get them.
When he returned, the third girl had arrived and the four campers and Mary were already reading from scripts up on the stage.
Carl was unhappy.
He was a registered nurse, with a decent job at the hospital that was a 45-minute drive away. His income supported the family. But he’d lost his job in May. The hospital was being consolidated with one farther away, and Carl had been a casualty of the first round of lay-offs. That was a disappointment, but he’d immediately set in motion his job hunt. After four weeks it became clear that there weren’t any jobs within a reasonable commute that paid enough to support the family. Mary didn’t seem to be that interested. She didn’t say it in so many words, but to her it was his responsibility to have a good job, and if he didn’t it was his fault.
They had already enrolled their campers when he lost the job. Mary could argue that they really needed to make the drama camp work so next year it would have a dozen campers and they’d earn real money. And since Carl wasn’t employed, he was available seven days a week to help her out getting it ready -- somehow there was a lot more work than she’d planned for.
But even with 20 campers the numbers wouldn’t add up. What they needed to do was sell the farm and move somewhere he could get a decent job. She deflected his gentle attempts to make that point. In any event they were committed to the six weeks of camp this year.
Back from his errands, he went out to the barn to say hello.
Mary made introductions. “This is Charlotte’s father Carl. He’ll be helping out at the camp. This is Megan, Liz, and Emma,” she said, pointing to each in turn.
Carl said hello and beheld the five people in front of him.
His daughter Charlotte was the one bright spot in his life. He took a moment to really look at her. Brown eyes, shoulder-length straight brown hair, 5’6” with a typical girl’s body. He noticed she really was developing -- those bulges under her flannel shirt were real breasts now. She was a pretty good student. She’d always been pretty easygoing. In the past year she and Mary had started the sniping and fighting that was typical of adolescence, but she still got along fine with Carl.
Emma was shorter, maybe 5’2”, with pixie cut reddish brown hair and big blue eyes, thin and not even as developed as Charlotte.
Megan was Charlotte’s height, with brown hair halfway down her back, brown eyes and quite a womanly figure. She exuded energy, with sparkling eyes and a loud voice that she used often.
Liz was 5’8” or so, with shoulder-length blond hair and blue eyes. She had a willowy figure, with hips and breasts definitely there but understated. She was model material.
Then there was Mary. Her figure was long gone. Butt, belly, breasts -- everything sagged and spread. Her ponytail showed a fair amount of gray. They had had Charlotte late, and now she was 53 -- same age as him. She’d been an enthusiastic lover when they first met. She came every time. Then it had been once a week or so, and then she’d gotten enthusiastic again in the years they were trying to conceive. But once she was definitely pregnant, her interest had fallen dramatically. Ten years ago sex had become a monthly affair. To try to get more he’d taken to doing what she liked best -- eating her out slowly until she had a big orgasm. He then got a couple minutes to plunge his cock in and thrust his way to release. Even so, the frequency went to quarterly, and then it seemed like an annual event, driven more by some trace of Mary’s guilt and duty until it had stopped completely three years ago. If it was up to Carl he’d have sex every day, even with Mary’s body so bloated. But sex only happens when both partners want it.
There was a sixth person in the barn -- him. He had something of a belly himself, though nothing like Mary. He was 5’9” and his dark blond hair was balding. He had a weak chin and close-set brown eyes, and while no one called him ugly he knew he was definitely below average in sex appeal.
They went back to reading their scene, and Carl wandered up to the house. He sat back and tuned in to the ball game on TV.
Not long after, Charlotte appeared and said, “Dad, mom needs you. We’ve got a problem with the sleeping,” before racing back out to join the class.
Carl wanted to see if the Red Sox could get out of the jam they were in. Five minutes later, he heard racing footsteps and Charlotte appeared once more. “Mom says she needs you like right now.”
With a sigh Carl put his shoes back on, turned off the TV with the bases still loaded, and headed down to the barn.
“Oh, finally!” said Mary when he appeared. While the four girls talked, she said, “None of the other girls will sleep on a top bunk. No way, no how. Charlotte will, of course. But we gotta come up with another plan for an extra girl.”
“Oh, I guess one could sleep in Charlotte’s room.”
“Oh, come on, they would never go for that. You know how girls are. They need to be together, not with the stodgy grown-ups. You’ve got to make another bed down here.”
Carl thought. “Not sure I can do that for tonight.”
“Well, OK,” said Mary with a sigh. “But tomorrow at the very latest!”
Liz drew the short straw and had to sleep in Charlotte’s room.
The next day Carl set to work. There was another room, much smaller, maybe a tack room -- though one that had never known tack. He fashioned a platform at bed height and in town managed to get a new mattress. Unlike the converted stall, this room had a full-height door that shut.
Although far better than Charlotte’s room, the solo room in the barn was still less appealing than the converted stall. To be fair, Liz, Emma, and Megan would take turns sleeping in the single in a fixed rotation.
The girls were all very sexy, Carl realized. They might not be especially hot among their peers, but most girls that age were hot -- and next to Mary anyone would look sexy. Charlotte was too, though his reaction to her was totally different -- she would be sexy to other guys, but not to him. When hot weather came, the girls appeared in short shorts and skimpy tops, making it all the harder to ignore or hide the effect they had on him.
He was elected to drive the four of them to the local swimming hole -- a wide spot in the creek. Naturally all four rode in the back, none in the cab with him.
He stayed in the cab while the four in their bikinis walked down to the hole. Four pairs of gorgeous legs, four cute behinds. He adjusted himself so his erection wouldn’t just press painfully upward against his shorts. In the water the wet bathing suits clung to what they covered, accentuating breasts and crotches. He could see the water glistening on bare skin. He could even barely make out beads of water on eyelashes when they sparkled in the light.
Burning with desire, he found his hand idly stroking the front of his shorts. It would be so easy to explode in his pants. But he mustn’t.
When the girls returned, with wet hair, glistening bodies, and faces brimming with the animation and excitement of youth -- it only reinforced in him a powerful yearning.
On the way back, he made out Megan’s voice from the back. “A nurse? Not a doctor?” followed by hushing sounds.
He sighed to himself. Yeah, a nurse, not a doctor. He’d assumed the training would be less demanding and less expensive. Ha. He knew almost the same stuff but earned half as much -- when he had a job. He hadn’t gotten into med school either, the year he’d applied.
Going around the barn in the evening, he paused outside the window to the girls’ room as he heard them talking. He should keep going, of course but...
“You see him perving on us this afternoon?” said Megan.
“Yeah,” said Charlotte. “My dad...” with a sigh.
Carl burned with shame. He thought he’d been very discreet in stealing glances at the girls, but apparently not. And there his daughter was, going along with them behind his back. She was just fitting in with her friends -- he got that at one level -- but it also really bothered him.
At night he lay in bed beside Mary, the fat slob, with images of nubility filling his mind. He’d still bury his cock in Mary’s pussy and relieve himself if she’d let him, but no chance of that.
He overheard snippets other times too.
“What is your dad, like your mom’s gofer?” “His cooking sure is mediocre.” “Well, yeah, compared to your dad most guys would look gorgeous!” “Why doesn’t he get a job? Isn’t there like a nursing shortage?”
One morning, a week after camp started, Mary was in the house and he was sweeping the stage.
“Hey, Carl,” said Megan, approaching with a basket. “Here’s our laundry for you to do.” On the top were several pairs of panties. Just a coincidence?
“Wait, take mine too!” said Liz, approaching with a bra and panties in her hand and sticking them on top. Both girls giggled. Megan was in bare feet, wearing a T-shirt with no bra on underneath. Liz’s button shirt was not buttoned and her bra showed. Both girls wore panties on the bottom but nothing else.
“And do a good job with it!” said Megan.
“Yeah, a very good job!” said Liz, and the two girls turned and pranced away giggling. Emma and Charlotte were fully dressed and watched from a distance. Emma smiled and turned away. Charlotte met her father’s eyes only briefly, then turned and went back into the bunk room.
“I’ll leave this here for Mary,” he said, setting the basket aside.
As he went into the house, he passed Mary on the way out.
He was furious. The truth was, if he’d been left alone with the dirty panties he probably would have sniffed them deeply while masturbating furiously -- if he didn’t actually ejaculate in the crotch of one of those pairs. And the idea that the girls apparently knew this -- it was intrusive. They not only knew it, they’d humiliated him in front of the others and his own daughter.
The anger did not ease as the day wore on. It festered and grew. There were further little barbs and put-downs.
In his dark thoughts he hatched a dark plan.
It was 3am. There was enough moon for him to see his way to the barn, and then he turned his flashlight on to a dim setting and tiptoed to the single room. He knew it was Megan’s turn. He turned the handle and went in. It was a warm night, and she had on a T-shirt and panties and nothing else. No covers. A thrill went through him. She was sexy, and tonight she was his.
He shut the door behind him and wedged a bar between floor and latch to serve as a lock.
Next he produced the small bottle and opened it. The sweet smell of ether was unmistakable. He poured a bit on the cloth, and then held it under Megan’s nose. Just a few breaths was all he needed for his purpose.
“Hey, Megan,” he said softly, shaking her and then pinching her shoulder. No response. Good.
He swabbed her upper arm with an anesthetic and numbing wipe. From his bag of tricks he then produced a syringe. He jabbed it into Megan’s arm and pressed the plunger.
Before the ether wore off, the new drug Amnesed would take effect -- a drug like Versed but even better.
Carl stripped naked and lay down beside Megan on the narrow bed. That close to such a nubile girl his erection rose quickly. His mix of emotions was potent -- some guilt and shame, but then this was a very sexy girl, and a very mean girl. She deserved what was coming to her. He could just take her while she was out cold, but that wasn’t his thing. What made this merely risky instead of suicidal was that the Amnesed would obliterate Megan’s memories of what happened in the next couple hours. It also should make her relaxed and happy and uninhibited.
He slid her onto her back and opened her legs a little, then began gently stroking her crotch through her panties.
Megan began stirring as the ether wore off. Then she woke.
“Mr. Jones!” she said with alarm. “What’s? Why?...” She reached down to move his hand away from her crotch.
“Hi, Megan,” he said through clenched teeth, forcing his hand back to her privates. “You humiliated me. You’re a cock tease, and now you’re going to pay!”
“No, Mr. Jones, no, no! I’m sorry! ... Why do I feel so funny?”
“Just some happy medicine. Doesn’t that feel good, down in your little pussy?”
She shook her head.
He slid his hand up under T-shirt to feel a breast.
Megan squirmed but he was not deterred. “Hold still!” he whispered with command. He then removed that hand and slid it down inside her panties from the top.
Megan looked at him with alarm, eyes wide.
His fingers under the panty cloth found her slit and opened it, rubbing a bit more. His finger probed her pussy opening. It was already pretty moist.
“You thought I’d ejaculate on your panties. Ha! You’re a mean girl, and now you’ll find out how a man gets his pleasure. I’m going to ejaculate in your vagina instead!”
“No...” whimpered Megan.
He raised himself up and pushed her T-shirt up above her breasts. Then he pulled her panties down, forced her legs apart and got into mounting position. His flabby belly contrasted strikingly with her nubile curves and perfect skin. He spread his thighs over hers and lowered his cock into position, nudging her labial flaps apart.
As he prepared to plunge in, he looked at her face and froze. The Amnesed did nothing to lessen the look of fear, of vulnerability, and of youth. The shame and guilt in his mix of emotions surged. She was still a minor, and not fully responsible for her actions. Yeah, she’d been mean to him, but kids do that. She wouldn’t remember this, but even so ... He couldn’t take her virginity. Maybe he’d just jerk himself and come on her face ... But his cock was softening quickly.
He sighed and let himself down beside her, then sat on the edge of the bed. “Oh, forget it,” he said wearily. “Let’s get you decent again.”
“Thank you,” she whispered quietly, then eagerly pulled her T-shirt back down and pulled her panties up.
“You stop saying mean things about me, you hear? I can rape you any time I want!”
“I promise,” said Megan with total sincerity.
He grumbled as he dressed. She’d never remember her promise.
Now what? What would she do when he left? She was wide awake and agitated, and the Amnesed wouldn’t put her back to sleep. She’d probably go wake up the other girls. She wouldn’t remember anything, but they would.
He shrugged and pulled out the ether rag from the bag he’d sealed it in.
“What’s that for?” she asked with alarm.
“Just to help you go back to sleep,” said Carl soothingly.
He held the rag under her nose.
She struggled briefly but stopped when he held her in place. She held her breath a long time, but eventually she had to breathe. The ether had its effect.
Carl packed everything away and made sure there were no telltale signs of his presence. He stole away and back to the house and crawled into bed beside fat old Mary.
His thoughts were confused. He guessed maybe he just wasn’t a rapist. That was a good thing, surely. But he was a frustrated old guy with a fat wife who never put out. Teen girls made fun of him without fear. He was pussy whipped. That realization made his anger surge again. Why hadn’t he just fucked the daylights out of mean little Megan?
Mary did the laundry and returned it to the girls neatly folded.
But when Mary was back at the house, and he was sweeping the stage again, Megan said, “Hey, there are stains here that weren’t there before ... It smells funny, not like anything that comes out of a girl ... Hmmmm.” She held a pair of panties up and looked at him with an unfriendly leer.
“Yeah, definitely!” said Liz, holding up another pair. “I have a big brother, and I know that smell. That’s what he leaves in HIS underpants sometimes ... I wonder if there are any men around here.” She looked up and saw Carl. “Oohhh! I didn’t know you were here!” with an unpleasant little laugh.
That night Carl had an extra beer and then another. Tonight was Liz’s turn in the single room. That body. What a body! And she had been so mean to him ... To plunge into her, to take her, to shoot her full of sperm -- it felt like it would be incredibly exciting. More exciting than anything that might happen for the rest of his life. He remembered what his fingers had felt inside Megan’s panties, how her smooth-skinned body had looked laid out for the taking -- it drove him crazy.
He tossed and turned, and at 1:30 he woke up, dressed, and sat in the living room, brooding. He had two more beers. He was going to do it, damn it!
“Oh, Carl!” said Liz with alarm. “I mean, Mr. Jones.”
Hand fluttering between Liz’s legs, he growled, “You’re a mean bitch. Making fun of me like that. I didn’t do anything with your panties. You smelled your brother’s sperm, did you? Well, you didn’t smell any on your panties today. I’ll show you where sperm goes!”
“You’ve been drinking,” she said quietly.
“Yes, I’ve been drinking, damn it! Now shut up and hold still!”
He worked her loose nightgown up over her head, took her panties off, and reared up on his knees below her. God, the perfect girl. He spread her lips to the sides with his fingers to reveal the wet, welcoming hole. He was going to conquer her, invade that pussy, and blast his sperm way up inside!
He worked himself into position, and then looked at her face. She was fighting back tears, her face numb with shock. Oh, damn it! He forced his eyes to look down between her legs -- down at her business end. She wouldn’t remember a thing. Why not just go for it? He placed his cock tip at her opening, but couldn’t help steal another look at her face. She was crying now, her face awash in grief.
Maybe he’d just jack off and decorate those lovely little breasts with a couple ropes of sperm. He started wanking himself, tip aimed at her chest. But his erection was softening rapidly.
“Oh, shit,” he murmured. “Well, fuck you to hell, you bitch, but I guess I’m just not enough of a rapist.”
Liz cried on.
“Hey, you hear me? I’m not going to rape you.”
She looked at him suspiciously.
“Yeah, let’s get you dressed.”
The Amnesed made her sway a bit when she sat upright, but soon they were both dressed and he produced the ether again.
Liz didn’t protest and took a couple deep sniffs.
He was angry and horny as hell. Twice now he’d pulled back from the brink of something terrifically exciting because some girl would feel bad. Pussy whipped. He had another couple beers and collapsed in bed beside the snoring cow.
“Hey, dad,” said Charlotte, finding him out behind the house with no one else around.
“Oh, hi honey,” he said. “How’s my girl?”
Charlotte glanced up at him briefly before looking down again.
“I’m sorry they’re so mean to you -- Liz and Megan. You OK?”
“Yeah, I’m OK, Charlotte. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I think they’re disgusting,” she said. “I mean, I gotta get through this camp with them, but, blech!”
“Oh,” he said. “What about Emma?”
“Emma? Well, ... She’s nice to you, right?”
“Yeah, she’s been OK.”
“Good,” said Charlotte, with a fake smile. “OK, glad you’re doing OK. Bye.”
Charlotte’s meaning was clear to him. Emma said mean things about him behind his back. It felt worse in some ways. With the other two, at least he knew where he stood.
This time he was going to do it. He was going to look a crying girl in the eyes and rape her anyway. And even if he ended up wimping out like the other times, he wanted to at least see Emma naked, rub her between the legs, and show her he had power over her. At least from then on if the girls were mean to him he’d be able to remember the feel of each pussy under his fingers. Besides, this way he wasn’t playing favorites. He should treat all three campers the same.
It was quite a hot night, but he was still surprised to see Emma completely naked, not wearing even a pair of panties.
As he waited for the ether to wear off, he stripped and sat on the edge of her bed. “Hi, Emma,” he said softly.
Her eyes opened. “Oh, Mr. Jones!” She giggled. “Is this a dream?”
“No, a nightmare maybe,” he said. This time he was just looking at her, not stroking anything.
She raised her head briefly. “You’re naked! And I am too!” She turned away from Carl, shielding her breast with her arm, drawing her knees up. “Why do I feel so funny?”
“Just some happy medicine. Hey, Charlotte says you say terrible things about me with the other girls.”
“Oh ... Oh, that!” she said, turning her head back over her shoulder. She looked thoughtful, or as thoughtful as the Amnesed allowed. “I’m sorry. But I guess I thought I had to fit in. I didn’t mean them. You’re a nice guy.” If she had shown fright, he would figure she was just saying that. But somehow he believed her.
“The drug is also so you won’t remember anything.”
“Oh,” said Emma, facing the wall. “Yeah, I see. If I tell folks you came to my bedroom naked, you’d be in trouble, right?”
“Right. Does it make you feel good?”
“Uh, I guess so.” She giggled again. “I feel kind of like high.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah, kind of...” She paused a few moments. “I’m in a bedroom alone with a man, and we’re both naked!”
“You bet.” he said. “You’ve said mean things about me and this is how you pay the price. Turn over so I can see you.”
“Why would you want to see a little kid naked?”
“You’re no little kid!”
“But my body ... it’s just a skinny little kid body.”
“Oh, no. You’re a gorgeous young woman,” he said, daring to place his hand on her hip and caress gently.
“OK, you’re not fully grown. But you’ve definitely come a long way from being a little girl. And you’re gorgeous.”
He caught a trace of a smile on Emma’s face as she raised her head to look over her shoulder at him, and then looked below before turning away again.”Your thing. It’s, uh, big.”
“Yeah, because you’re sexy. Come on, turn towards me so I can see just how gorgeous you are.”
Emma hesitantly turned back onto her back, looking nervously down at herself, his face, and his penis.
“Beautiful,” said Carl.
“I’ve been awfully curious about all this stuff,” she said with a giggle.
Lustful thoughts surged within Carl. He put his hand on her stomach and began rubbing gently. Somehow anger wasn’t guiding his actions now. If she was willing, that changed everything ... How far would she let him go?
“I’ve never been kissed. Will you kiss me?”
Carl realized he’d love to kiss this girl.
He lay mostly on his stomach beside her right side, but his torso was angled to put his face over hers.
He slowly lowered his head and offered her a gentle, tiny kiss.
“Oooo, my first kiss,” sighed Emma.
Carl lowered his head and kissed her again, and then again. Slow, small, sweet kisses, over and over.
“I like kissing,” said Emma. She squirmed her hips slightly.
“Does it make you think about other parts of your body?”
“Yeah,” she said with a giggle. “How’d you know?”
“You tell me if I do something you don’t like.” He slid his hand over to caress her stomach, but then slid gradually up to her left breast. He kept kissing her, gently, over and over.
“That feels nice,” said Emma. “You don’t mind it’s so small?”
“Oh, not at all -- and it’s not that small. It’s wonderful.”
He kissed both cheeks, then moved slowly to her chin, her neck, the base of her neck.
“Uh oh,” said Emma as she realized where he was heading.
With a few more pecks he found his way to that nipple. He licked.
She giggled during his first licks, then stopped, then breathed a little faster than usual.
Then he sucked hard, and she squirmed her hips again.
“I gotta find out what all this squirming is about,” he said as he slid his hand down over her stomach and below. His fingers met downy pubic hair on her mound. He slid lower.
“That’s private,” said Emma tentatively.
“Unless you want to share it. You want to?”
Emma shook her head.
Carl removed his hand, pulled his head away and looked at her.
Emma bit her lip, then she giggled, then nodded.
Carl smiled and returned his lips to her right breast this time as his hand cupped her girl sex. His fingers caressed gently up and down the crease where her lips met.
Emma gave a little questioning moan, then lifted her pelvis against his hand.
“Do you do this to yourself?”
“I masturbate a lot. Like every day. Or sometimes five times a day.” She giggled. “Not usually five times.”
Carl stroked up and down her centerline with his fingers, over and over. “Feel good? Different from playing with yourself?”
“Yeah. Mmmmm, I see why girls really want to do this kind of thing with boys.”
Carl lifted his head and looked longingly into Emma’s eyes. Down below he gently worked her labia to the sides to explore within.
“How’d I guess you’d do that next...” said Emma with a laugh.
Carl found her young clit, put a finger on each side and very gently squeezed them together, just a little, then did it again and again...
Emma rolled her eyes and moaned.
He gently explored below at the opening to her vagina.
“How’d I know you’d want to explore there...” She giggled. “Guess it’s kind of natural.”
It was not at all dry. He gradually worked his ring finger inside a little, then a little more. There was no obstruction. He switched to his middle finger.
“Sure you haven’t done this before?” he asked with a smile.
Emma frowned. “No, of course not! What made you think that?”
“Your pussy is not tight or covered up. My fingers go in easily.”
“Oh, well, I’ve had my hairbrush handle up there.”
Carl feigned surprise. “Really? Why would you do something like that?”
“Because ... Because I’m curious.”
“Oh, dear,” said Carl, holding his finger still.
“Was it bad of me?” She sounded worried.
Carl tried to look stern but couldn’t help smiling.
“Oh, yes. It’s all natural ... playing with yourself, exploring your pussy...” He began sliding his fingers in and out, while pressing her clit gently with his thumb. “You know what else is natural, right?”
She looked at him. “Yeah, but I dunno ... Hey, I’m curious about your penis too.”
“OK,” said Carl with a smile, withdrawing his hand.
She sat up and listed to the side before righting herself. “Whoa, this medicine,” she said, and giggled. She then reached out slowly to touch his erect organ.
“Soft and hard at the same time ... It looks funny ... I’m kinda dizzy, I’d better lie down again.”
“Ooooo,” she said. “If you don’t ejaculate in our panties in the laundry, where do you ejaculate instead when you masturbate?”
“Me? Oh, well, I don’t much at all. I save myself for the real thing.”
“Oh,” said Emma, looking away. “Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.”
“You dizzy because of my penis?” asked Carl.
“Maybe a little,” said Emma. “Or the medicine.”
Carl put his hand back between her legs and began to pulse his fingers on her clit.
“Or that thing you’re doing,” she said, sighing. “Or all of them.”
He began kissing her cheek and ear as his fingers kept exploring. His middle finger was back inside of her, going in and out, thumb and forefinger pulsing on her clit, gently. After a minute of his explorations and Emma’s little gasps and moans, he shifted himself on top of her, thighs on thighs, his erect penis several inches below her pussy.
“Are you going to... ?” Emma gulped.
“Only if you want.”
“I shouldn’t,” she said.
Carl’s hand froze. Seconds passed.
“Liz said she did it with a boy a couple times ... She’s my age ... Oh, keep doing that with your hand while I think,” she said, then giggled.
“It wouldn’t be your fault,” he said. “The medicine has you feeling not like yourself.”
“Yeah, that’s true. And what you’re doing with your fingers!” She arched her pelvis up against him strongly.
Carl slid himself up higher until his cock was right at her opening, then removed his finger from her vagina, while nestling his cock tip right between her inner lips. He went back to pulsing on her clit with the two fingers.
“Oh ... In, put it in! Careful, though!”
With a smile, Carl gently nudged himself forward. His smooth tip slowly spread her wetness, then started burrowing in. Oh, the pleasure and the joy!
“Oh, more!” said Emma.
“That feel OK? Does it hurt?” asked Carl.
“A little, but more! Deeper!”
Carl used more force, easing his cock in more and more. Then he met resistance and stopped. He resumed his motion on her clit with his fingers.
“Oh, God...” moaned Emma.
Carl began a gentle in and out motion, alternating with finger work. He’d do five strokes, then pause to pulse on her clit, then five more strokes, then a pause. He sighed with pleasure whenever he went in and out.
This girl with the reddish hair was offering herself to him. She’d been curious about sex, and although hesitant, she’d laid herself out on her back, legs spread wide, to lose her virginity. Now she wasn’t hesitant at all. She’d felt his cock inside her and she wanted it. She wanted more. Her little nipples stood up straight, her eyes half-closed, face relaxed with pleasure.
The minutes passed, Emma getting more and more excited. Carl enjoyed the physical pleasure immensely -- while holding himself back from getting too excited.
“Can you ... Can you hold it deep inside and do that with your fingers at the same time?”
“Sure,” he said.
“A little deeper?”
“Oh, oh, ... yes, oh, that’s great, oh, oh...” Suddenly Emma let out a big gasp and her body twitched.
As she came down from her orgasm, he removed his fingers, held himself up on his hands and began gliding in and out. The sight of this beautiful girl with the small breasts, glowing with sexual satisfaction, laid out for the taking, was tremendously exciting.
She brought her eyes into focus. “Did you ejaculate?”
“Not yet,” he said. “Though I will soon. God, you are so sexy!” He began thrusting faster and deeper. “Let me know if anything bothers you.”
“OK,” said Emma. “It feels really nice...”
Man thighs over girl thighs, shaft disappearing up between her legs, thrusting in and out, girl looking up at him happily ... It was perfect.
As he approached orgasm, he thrust more insistently. “Oh, Emma, Emma, Emma...” His loins glowed with pleasure, and the pleasure spread. It built and built...
“Yes!” he said with a gasp and a final lunge. He held himself way up inside her, deep and still, and ejaculated -- shooting glob after glob of sperm way up inside her pussy. The pleasure flooded every level of his brain. When his orgasm was complete, he relaxed and slid out of Emma and onto his back beside her. It was a narrow bed, so she had to scoot over to make room for him.
She turned on her side to face him. When he opened his eyes and looked at her, she said, “I’m not a virgin, I’m not a virgin!”
“True. How was it?”
“Pretty great. It kinda hurt at the end there when you went in really deep ... but it was OK too. A girl kinda expects it to hurt her first time, and since I’d already had a great orgasm and it was the end -- that was a good time for it. Did I do OK?”
“Oh, you were fantastic! Just amazing!”
“What did I do?”
“You didn’t have to do much, actually. But you coming was great, and smiling at me ... And being young and beautiful, too, but I know those aren’t exactly things you do.”
“Oh, good.” She yawned.
He brushed his fingers along her cheek, then rose to sitting. “Think you can get to sleep?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
He got dressed quietly and then sat on the very edge of the bed.
She opened a groggy eye at him.
“Just sleep,” he said.
He waited many minutes, until her breathing was deep and regular, before he crept out and back to the house.
Such total pleasure! Such immense satisfaction!
He was no rapist, but with a willing girl ... It was perfect. She was too young to get pregnant, there was no risk of disease. And with the medicine, she wouldn’t be at any risk of hashing it over later and decide she had been abused.
Carl wasn’t totally sure he’d been safe skipping the closing ether dose with Emma, so he was anxious on his first appearance in the barn the next morning, but Emma paid him no particular attention. That was a relief.
Now when the girls made their little digs at him he felt OK, smiling inwardly. Emma didn’t make any, but then she never had in his presence.
And then two days later he overheard Liz say something. “He’s such a wimp. A nurse. Sweeps floors and does dishes. Pervs on high school freshmen. Scared of women? Did your mom have to order him to do her to get pregnant with you?”
He smiled, thinking of the feel of her pussy lips. But as he lay in bed that night, the words replayed in his head, over and over. What a vicious girl! And to say that to Charlotte about her own father? The memory of the feel of her pussy wasn’t enough. It was Liz’s turn in the single. And that offhand comment Emma had made -- Liz wasn’t a virgin.
At 2am he paid a visit to the barn.
“Oh, Mr Jones!” said Liz.
“Oh, just shut up and lie back and take it, cunt!” he hissed. He didn’t bother telling her off. She wouldn’t remember it.
Liz’s expression was stunned and mostly empty, but grief showed through.
He didn’t give a shit. He looked at the magnificent girl laid out for the taking, the willowy blond with a model’s body. He knew where her cunt was, and he spread her legs wide so he could get at it. And then he stuck his cock at her hole and shoved. Her tissues gave way to allow him entry. She was plenty warm inside, but not so wet. Too bad. He fucked in insistently, getting deeper and deeper. And then he held himself up on his hands and looked at the grief-stricken girl -- mean as anything, and sexy as anything. He gave her exactly what she deserved. He fucked her hard and deep and fast and then he came, blasting her innards with his sperm. He’d conquered the bitch. The physical pleasure erased most of his anger. He smiled as he rearranged Liz to hide all evidence of the rape. She didn’t resist the ether he put under her nose.
The next night it was Emma’s turn in the little room again. The temperature was more moderate, so he found her in a light nightgown. This time he gave her an extra shot -- three months of contraception, just in case.
He stripped to his underpants, sat on the edge of the bed and caressed her face. “Oh, Mr. Jones!” she said as she awoke.
“Hi, Emma,” he said softly.
“What are you doing here?”
He had to remind himself she had no memory of their earlier encounter.
“Just thought I’d come say hello to such a lovely girl. A curious girl who’s not a little girl any more.”
“Oh,” said Emma, looking away. “Why do I feel so funny?”
“Drugs. Nice, happy drugs,” he said soothingly... “I just had a hunch you’d be curious about things. Big girl things.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, but then smiled and looked away as she said, “How’d you know?”
“Yeah, I shouldn’t, but as long as I am...” He brushed the back of his hand along her cheek. The fact she was decent instead of naked put a different cast on the situation.
“What I’d love more than anything is to kiss you,” he said, slowly moving his face in towards hers. “You ever kiss anyone?”