He slid his hand down the front of her panties, cupping her mound in his hand, curved his fingers beneath her, and entered her pussy. She stuck her tongue into his mouth, and spread her thighs to give him better access, an action that shocked her so much she moaned into his mouth at her own behavior. He still held her hands over her head, and his chest flattened her breasts and rubbed against her nipples as they kissed, but it was his hand between her legs that wouldn’t leave her alone. It just felt so incredibly good and evil at the same time that her hips began to lift towards him in a lewd imitation of coitus.

"Jesus Christ, you little bitch!" he said as he broke the kiss. Vanessa’s body humped shamelessly against him, out of control now. "You really need to get fucked, don't you? You're lucky I came along when I did, before some stupid kid got his hands on you, Vanessa. You're too fucking good for that. You need to get fucked by a man who knows what he's doing, who can fill that little pussy with some good, hard cock and show you what it's all about."



“No, Mr. Taylor! Please! Don’t talk that that! I can’t”



“Can’t what, bitch? Can’t take some hard cock in your pussy? You’re going to get fucked, Vanessa. We can do it sweet and easy or we can do it rough, but you’re going down tonight.”

He kissed her again, overcome with lust, and his fingers began to pump in and out of her cunt, driving her wild. She already felt like a whore, and now he was confirming it for her, treating her just the way she wanted to be treated, finger fucking her against her mother's refrigerator in her own kitchen. Of course, she couldn’t admit that this was what she wanted. She would never admit that she was that kind of girl, but her body didn’t lie. Her pussy was a molten puddle of need. Her breasts felt like they’d explode if she didn’t get his rough mouth on them.

"Please!" she said as he licked and bit her tits, "I'm not like that! I'm not like you think! It was just a game I play."

But he wasn't listening to her anymore. Her body was doing things that gave the lie to everything she said, and she didn’t even believe what she was saying anymore. She was lost.

"Come on," he said, letting her go and grabbing her wrist. "Show me where your bedroom is."

She couldn't think straight and she didn't know how to tell him no. Her heart was pounding and her body throbbing with need. She led him dizzily up the stairs, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor, and into her bedroom, forgetting that her sex toys were spread out on the bed, there among her stuffed animals.

He looked at the ropes and vibrators, her handcuffs and slave collar—all the things she’d purchased so discreetly through mail-order on the internet—and gave her an evil and knowing smile. "Looks like you were going to make a fucking night of it, huh Vanessa? You like it kinky too, huh? A little bondage? A girl after my own heart"

She stood there dazed, breathless, running her hand through her hair, looking at the toys on the bed. There was no question of what he'd think of her now: she'd never convince him that she was anything but a slut. But for now she didn't care about that. She just wanted to feel his body against hers again, wanted to feel him take her before she came to her senses.

"We can use this." he said, picking up a length of rope. "Turn around."

She turned around, automatically putting her hands behind her back, and Mr. Taylor quickly bound her wrists together, then spun her back and caught her in a deep and passionate kiss, driving rational thought from her mind. The helpless feeling of her hands pinioned behind her back flooded her with wild desire to be taken, and she moaned shamelessly as his tongue explored her mouth. His hands came up and he grabbed her breasts right through the dress, squeezing and kneading them, rubbing his thumbs over her aching nipples. Everything he did thrilled her. This was just what she'd wanted, just what she'd dreamed of, and now the dream was real.

"You're gonna dress like a whore, then you're gonna show me what a good little whore you can be!" he said to her as he mauled her breasts and pinched her nipples through the vinyl. "You're gonna fuck me with that whore pussy of yours, Vanessa. You're gonna show me what a good fuck you are, or I’m going to have a little discussion with your mother about how you spend your free time, understand?"

He stepped back from her, took the lapels of her dress in his hand and pulled them apart, popping the snaps one by one all the way down, exposing her body in the mesh corset to his gaze. Vanessa stood there watching his eyes as he took in her nearly naked body, and what she saw there made her groan out loud—the naked lust, the heated desire and raw excitement. It thrilled her to think that she could inspire such passion in a man. He didn't see an overworked and lonely college student when he looked at her; he saw a hot, desirable woman, and the mere sight of her made his dick hard.

"You sweet little bitch!" he said. "What a fucking body! Baby, I could fuck you all night long and not get tired." He grabbed her breasts and began to suck them hungrily, going from one to the other, swirling his tongue around her nipples and biting them softly, making Vanessa's head swim.



She knew she should fight, she should resist him, but her hands were tied behind her back. What chance did she have. Taylor sucked and bit her breasts and Vanessa pulled at her bonds, loving the fact that they held her, loving her helplessness. There was nothing she could do now. It was out of her hands. It was all him now—whatever he wanted to do.

He took her arm and pushed her down onto her bed so that she was flat on her back. Her mind cleared suddenly and she realized what was going to happen: that he was really going to fuck her, put his cock in her pussy and fuck her on her own bed.

She made one last attempt to regain control of herself. "No," she said, "Please! Mr. Taylor, don't do this!"

He was stepping out of his pants and pulling his shorts down, and she saw his cock, big and hard for her, eager for her body. She should have been horrified but the sight excited her tremendously. She wanted that monster inside of her, inside her pussy. She wanted to feel this older man slamming his body into hers, making her take his big prick, fucking her like a woman.

He stopped over to the bed and took his cock in one hand and the back of her head in the other. "Come on, baby!" he said, "Suck me! You know how to do it! Suck my cock, bitch!"

She wanted to tell him that she didn't know how. She'd done it to some boys her own age, but he was a full grown man and she had no real skill, no real experience. But it all happened so fast. Her mouth just opened and he pushed his cock inside. She closed her eyes and tasted him, salty and pungent on her tongue, his prick pulsing with a savage life and urgency.

She was so ashamed. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't a whore, she wasn't what he thought, but every time she tried to draw off his cock to speak he pushed it back into her mouth. And for all her inexperience, whatever she was doing was making him groan with lewd pleasure and pump his prick in and out of her mouth with growing speed.



He pulled her panties off her and threw them aside, and as she sucked his cock he jammed a finger back inside her. She couldn't help it; she spread her legs and he began to fuck her with his finger. She could hear the sloppy sound of his fingers in her wet pussy and it felt so good, but there was more to it than that. It was just so terribly dirty, so obscene to be finger fucked while she sucked his cock. Her head filled with all sorts of filthy images, with her in the middle of them.

Then he pulled his cock out of her mouth. She swallowed and tried to catch her breath. "Mr. Taylor, please!" she whined. "I'm not like this. Don't!"

She felt the bed sag as he climbed between her legs and got on his knees, and she looked up to see him aiming his big prick at her twitching cunt. As soon as she felt him make contact with the outside of her labia, she gasped.

"Yeah?" he challenged her, "You don't want this? You don't want my cock in you? Then tell me to stop, Vanessa. Tell me you don't want my big cock inside you reaming you out, you slut! Tell me no!"

She knew she had to stop him, that she had to tell him to get dressed and leave her alone, but she just couldn't. She couldn't say anything at all. His cock felt so good pushing against her and spreading her pussy, almost inside her. She could feel it throbbing, ready to plunge deep inside. She felt deliciously helpless, at his mercy, just like in her fantasies. She couldn't fight it—she wanted him; wanted him badly.

He laughed with contempt at her inability to answer, then he pushed into her, stretching her open and filling her with his incredible hot, virile hardness, and she groaned at her body’s reluctant surrender. Taylor snarled like an animal as his cock bottomed out in her tight sheath. He levered himself up on his hands and looked down to where her tight pussy was stretched around his invading member, and without giving her a moment to adjust he began to fuck her, hard and deep, already almost out of control.

"You hot cunt! You little slut! Is this good enough for you? You like this big prick?"

She couldn't speak, it just felt so good, so right, and his savagery was just what she wanted. She was tried of fighting. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him tight. Her trapped fingers clawed at the bedspread beneath her as she pushed her tits up for him to plunder and abuse, and all the while her hips were fucking with him, up and down on his stiff pole, sending pangs of raw pleasure through her feverish body.

It had been so long since she'd had a cock inside her, and never like this, never as she'd dreamed it would be someday: tied and taken by a man who wouldn't let her escape, wouldn't listen to her excuses. He was driven by his lust for her, and what could she do but let him fuck her like this, let him use her body for his own pleasure?