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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2013. Please
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Four Exercises
by Realoldbill (no address provided)
***
Four shorts, so you can write your own stories. (MF,
Mf, ped, inc)
***
1
I pulled my throbbing rod out of the limp girl and sat
back on my heels. Damn, but she was pretty, my little
cousin, but she had passed out. I tried to remember if
any girl I had fucked had done that. She had slipped
into my bed a short time before, early in the morning
and we had cuddled and kissed, and I had boned her,
and we humped hard and fast and then she went limp and
kind of sighed. I hadn't even come in her but she
might have climaxed. She cried, "Yee," before she
passed out.
I went to the bathroom, pissed and washed my slimy
cock and when I came back, hoping for some more fun,
her sister was sitting there beside her, shaking her.
"What happened?" she asked me without turning around.
"Did she faint or what?"
"Yeah, she just kind of..."
And she turned around and looked at me and gasped.
Joyce was even prettier than Melissa, a full-grown
female with a great rack and an incredible ass. She
was as tall as I am, six feet, and a real pleasure to
look at.
"Migawd," she gasped. "How big is that thing?"
I smiled and reached down and shook it as it hung, fat
and long, halfway to my knees, limp but throbbing.
"You didn't put that in her, did you? She's only a
child."
"She climbed in bed and grabbed it," I said. "She
wanted it, begged me for it." That wasn't exactly
true, but it was close.
Joyce grasped my thick root and bounced it in her
hand, blinking at me. "It must weight five pounds.
What a monster. You could've killed her."
"I think she enjoyed it, but it could use some more. I
haven't come; she may have."
She squeezed my rod and looked up at me and shook her
head. "I don't think so?"
2
"Daddy," she whined as she licked the underside of his
shriveled cock, "I made a mistake, a big mistake." She
sucked a dangling ball.
Her father buried his hand in her golden curls and
managed to say, "Sorry to hear that, Princess. Now do
the head."
She mouthed his glans until he managed to ooze out a
few more gobs of semen and then rose to sit on his lap
and lean against his wide chest, crushing his rampant
cock to his belly. "You were right. Roger is useless
and I'm sure Bruce, the guy he roomed with, is his
lover."
"Wouldn't be surprised," he said as he palmed her lush
breast and brought her jutting nipple to his lips.
"Can't you help me? I don't want to divorce him. It
would be so embarrassing."
He nibbled until she squealed and then smiled and
said, "Of course, but you know what it's going to cost
you?"
She nodded. "My poor asshole, reamed out by your angry
giant."
He chuckled. "Right, for a solid month. Which car do
you want to get rid of?"
She sniffed. 'The Jeep. I never use it."
So that night, on a winding back road, the car her
husband of two months, the wealthy but effeminate
Roger Effinton III and his long-time live-in lover
were in, both unconscious, drove through a guard rail
and tumbled down a long embankment, turning over
several times and fell into the river. When the
wreckage beached itself a mile or so downstream, both
bodies were still belted in.
Velvet Effington had by then purchased a short, black
Dior and a clinging Versace that was slit to the hip
bone and went into mourning after being sodomized by
her father. The luscious young widow, only nineteen,
was soon being courted by a legion of eager males
since she was not only beautiful but very rich. In six
months she married the handsome son of her financial
advisor, enjoyed a riotous honeymooon and within six
weeks he and his father had converted all her assets
into his control and left the county together along
with the firm's voluptuous secretary.
Back home and going from her father's big bed to her
brother's more narrow one, Velvet often cried herself
to sleep while her vulva pulsed out viscous scum and
her nipples ached from teeth marks.
She met Horace Miller at the club and in three months
she wed the owner of six prospering hardware stores
and pretended to enjoy his eager attempts to arouse
and satisfy her while she continued to visit her
family home for sex and every two weeks or so take me
to her bed. She claimed often that I was her only true
lover and the only man who could fully satisfy her.
I certainly enjoyed trying, and she told me stories of
her marital adventures as we rested between vigorous
couplings. She had her poor husband coming home for
lunch, and she demanded service every night as well.
She wasn't exactly insatiable, but she took a lot of
loving. Of course she also paid well, a hundred
dollars each time I cut the lawn.
Horace die violently at the club trying to defend her
honor after hearing his wife called a slut. The big
man he pushed knocked him down, and he struck his head
on a step and died almost instantly. A month later she
married her family's elderly attorney and two months
after that he died after taking two ED pills and
downing a small bottle of energy drink.
So at age 22 she had enjoyed, at least briefly, five
husbands and was wealthy again.
3
Understand you got a new boy." She arched a perfect
eyebrow, a practiced gesture.
"Yes, yes indeed," said her friend with a smile. "Got
rid of the old one; traded him in. Have no idea what
they do with the used ones, the mines I suppose."
"Prostitution I think. How is he? After all, they do
have what it takes." She laughed.
"He's learning, improving, getting used to us. The
girls, you know, can be demanding."
"As can you, my dear. Have him altered?"
"Just a bit; Achilles cut, muted, and one other. I'll
have to look on the manifest."
"What is he?"
"English-Irish they say, sandy-haired, lanky, well-
endowed."
"Well, of course, they breed them for that. Like to
see him."
Her friend smiled and picked up a small remote. The
boy appeared in seconds and went to his knee, eyes
cast down. He was wearing a loincloth and a studded
collar.
"I like the collar," said her friend.
"Yes, all the sensors are imbedded."
"Of course. Could I see an erection, just for
comparison? My jadper is so well hung you know and
wonderfully thick."
"Oh course." She gestured and the boy stood, hands
behind him, looking over their heads, impassive. She
handed her friend the remote. "Go ahead."
The young male shuddered and his cloth flap fluttered
and then parted and his sturdy young penis, swelling
and rising, the veins pulsing, rose and thickened
quickly until it was curved upward and trembling.
"Very nice," said her friend, handing back the device.
4
Tammy smiled down at me as she pressed another
pushpin, a red one, into my hard penis and stood back
to look at her work. She aimed her little camera and
took another shot. My cock was now spiraled with
multi-colored, needle-sharp pushpins, perhaps twenty
of them, from its ridged head to my hairy groin, and
the lovely young girl who was torturing me obviously
wasn't finished.
One big alligator clip went on the underside of my
swollen scrotum and the other she held up smiling and
said, "Let's see," and then she clamped it on my right
nipple. I squealed.
"Now, now," she cooed, "here it comes." And she gave
me a short burst of electricity which made my whole
body arch.
I heard the door open and her mother came in. "How's
it going?" she asked, coming to the bed and grasping
my balls, squeezing firmly and watching my cock jerk
upwards.
"I think he's about ready." Linda flicked on an
overhead light and positioned two TV cameras, one low
and the other right over my groin.
"Mind if I watch?" her mother asked, digging her
fingernails into my balls and twisting while she
smiled at me.
"No, of course not, but step back. Don't cast a
shadow." She flicked the cameras on and began giving
me two-second shocks over and over. My erection rose
in steady increments until it was standing rigid and
tall and then she increased the duration and strength
of the jolts, and I ejaculated, spurting my semen
straight up a foot or so. It hurt like hell.
The girl turned off everything, removed the clips and
then pulled out the pins and rubbed alcohol on my limp
prick. "Thanks," she said with a smile. "You can go."
I stumbled away and went down to the kitchen and got a
glass of water, still sweating and aching. I had
earned a hundred dollars but it was awfully hard work.
***
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real
life" can look forward to many unproductive years
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 76