Chapter 8

Madeline unfolded the paper and held it in his face. “It’s too close.” He pushed his head back. “I can’t read it.”

“Sorry.” She adjusted the distance. “Can you read it now?”

He scanned the sheet. “It’s a birth certificate. Who’s April Ford?” he asked.

Madeline held his dick steady and applied more pressure. “It’s me,” she said and took a few seconds to enjoy the utter shock and confusion on John’s face. “It’s my birth certificate.”

“Wait, that’s not your name.” He kept looking. “What are you talking about? Whoever April Ford is, she’s only sixteen. This isn’t you. Untie me. Let me loose!”

“No, look again, I just had a birthday, I turned seventeen,” Madeline said and plunged John’s cock into her pussy. “Oh, yes, yes, you feel so good.”

“No, stop, stop fucking me,” John said.

“Ah, noooah, not yet,” she said and wrapped her hands around John’s neck. “I want you to cum in me again.”

“No, stop, I said no. I don’t want to.”

Madeline worked her cunt on the top half of his dick in short, fast thrusts. She knew how to make a guy cum, whether he wanted to or not. “Oh, Daddy, you fuck me so good.” The first burst made her grin. She sat down and took all of John’s pumping erection. “Ahhh, shit, oh, shit, your baby juice is squirting into my womb, again.”

“Why, why the fuck are you doing this?” John asked. “Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”

Madeline didn’t say anything until she had milked every last drop of cum from him. “I had to teach you a lesson. Nobody should have to do something they don’t want to. Right? And I wanted to see the expression on your face when you realized you were fucking a minor.”

“What are you talking about? Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

“Mm, maybe,” she said. “Maybe, the way you seem to lose yours sometimes. You know, like last night, and with Jennifer. Isn’t that what happened with Jennifer? You remember her, don’t you?”

“Jennifer?” he shook his head. “Who’s Jennifer? Let me loose.”

“You don’t remember her? You really shouldn’t drink so much.”

“No. This is ridiculous, untie me!”

“Not yet,” Madeline said. “Jennifer, you probably called her Jenny. Remember, you used to sing, Jenny, Jenny, I got your number off the bathroom wall?”

John’s expression changed. “Oh, Jenny, yeah, I kind of remember her.”

“You only kind of remember her? I bet she never forgot you. No, who would forget being held down and having a giant dick forced in them.”

“I never forced her to do anything,” he said. “We partied, got pretty drunk and high together, but I didn’t force her. Let me go.”

Madeline smashed her chest into John’s face again and grabbed something else off the table. “Let’s see what Jenny remembered. This is her journal.” She opened the book and started reading: