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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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Execution
by Realoldbill (no address provided)

***

A rebel soldier carries out his assignment after 
pleasuring himself and his lusty victim. (MF, v, sn)

***

The noisy thunder storm brought me what I wanted, the 
reluctant girl. She came hurriedly into my room as the 
lightening flashed again and jumped into my bed and 
beneath my raised quilt before the thunder crashed. 
She huddled against me, hands over her ears and I held 
her gently, enjoying the feel of her ripe body. She 
was a glorious blonde, the kind of young woman that 
could not pass men without garnering leering looks, 
the kind that made men whimper at night and brought 
young members up to flaring attention with barely a 
thought.

"Now don' get any ideas," she whispered, wriggling to 
get free of my hands. "I'm jus' a'frighted." We were 
alone in her house, and we both knew it. I had been 
flirting with her all day completely without success, 
sniffing around her like a dog in heat.

"You can stay just as long as you like," I assured her 
as my right hand found her left breast and cupped its 
firm fullness. She pushed my hand away and sank with 
her back to me as lightening flashed again. I rolled 
over and got my knees under hers. Her firm rump felt 
good on my belly as we cuddled spoon fashion. I felt 
my prong tremble and begin to fill.

"Keep your hands to yourself," she said as my prod 
rose between her long legs, and I pawed her stomach, 
fingers reaching into her curls.

"Yes'm," I said, trying not to laugh. I brushed her 
fine hair aside, breathed on the back of her neck and 
kissed the ridge of her ear.

"None a'that," she sighed with a laugh in her voice. 
'Stop it now."

The head of my rising prong touched her thigh as my 
hands attempted to gather up her long night dress.

"What's that?" she asked quickly, aware that it was 
neither of my hands since one was on her raised hip 
and the other was in her grip.

"What?" I asked innocently, pushing my hips forward so 
my overheated ram rose toward her groin, its head 
eagerly probing and pushing her gown higher as it did, 
poking out between her thighs.

She reached down between her own legs, thus spreading 
her thighs for me, and her hand found the fat head of 
my rigid bone. "Oh," she said.

"Um," I said, my spear butting into her palm. She 
yanked down her nightgown and closed her legs tightly.

With a fierce crash, lightening hit something nearby 
so the noise came right with the flash. She jumped and 
squealed, and came meekly into my arms, still with her 
back to me. I pulled her nightdress up to her hips, 
and then I pushed the head of my rigid member just 
between her trembling nether lips. I was at the pearly 
gates, and they had just parted. I folded her within 
my arms protectively, feeling her heels moving against 
my shins.

"Oh," she said with a sniff, her quivering lips damp 
and trembling as my prong traveled up and down her 
slit, lying in the wiggling length of her crease. 
"Well, if you don't go any farther."

I held her hip with my left hand and slid my right 
down her belly to her hairy mound. "Whatever you say," 
I told her. "The storm will pass."

Another boom shook the cottage, and I popped it in and 
got an inch or two deep, waggling my hips right and 
left. She sucked in her breath and made a noise in her 
throat. My fingers explored her curly muff, and her 
hands clawed at the quilts.

"You're going to do it, aren't you?" she asked as my 
probing fingers found her tiny nub and my other hand 
closed on her luscious breast, its nipple hardening 
quickly. She took a deep breath. I teased her tiny 
prick from its covering.

"Not if you don't want to," I assured her, now perhaps 
three inches in and beginning to feel her tight quim 
suck me deeper. Her pulse had quickened and her belly 
quivered.

"You know I don't. I'm bespoken. I'll marry next 
month. Oh, please; it's too big. Please don' do it."

I was at least halfway into her now, spreading her 
open as I went, filling her completely. There was no 
turning back. I flexed it and she moaned. Her flesh 
parted.

"Only my lover has ever, ever, oh, oh, oh my god, my 
god, my god." She mewled and shook as my prong kept 
swelling and growing within her, seeking friction and 
depth, vibrating with thudding pulses, sliding back 
and forth very gently.

"He's never even, oh, oh, please, please," she shook 
and arched in my grip, "harder, harder, shove it in, 
all the way in."

"Are you sure?" I asked as the thunder rumbled in the 
distance. "I think the storm has passed on."

"Ah, ah, ah," she gasped as I pushed my hips forward 
and she rammed hers back. I edged beneath her, 
grasping her body and rolling her atop me, nearly 
fully impaled, her legs limp beside mine, head back on 
my chest.

I held her luscious breast with my left hand, 
squeezing out her nipple, and her right hand and mine 
joined to feel my shaft side in and out of her slick 
lips. Her belly trembled and her breath came in gasps. 
I was probably six inches deep but bent severely.

"Please, please," she moaned. "We must stop."

I stopped, holding my spear fully extended, but in the 
position we were in, it was hardly as far as it might 
have been. We both we shaking with, there are no other 
words, primal lust. I was tempted to push her upright 
and really spear her.

"Thank you, oh, yes, please, thank you," she sighed. 
"It feels so good." I now had both hands on her young 
breasts, teasing out her pointed nipples, aching to 
suck them. My cock leapt and shuddered, bent into its 
slick prison, wanting more. Her hands were in her 
groin, finger tips just touching my thick rod.

Her breathing slowed and I heard her swallow and then 
she suddenly spasmed as an orgasm swept through her. I 
slid my hands all the way down her body to her thighs 
and then back up to her belly as she gasped out her 
success.

"That's not so bad, is it?" I asked, refilling my 
hands with her breasts, lifting and stroking them.

"It isn't right," she said, wiggling. "Please let me 
go."

"Just a bit more," I begged, rolling over and turning 
her face down on the bed. She was soon up on her knees 
and elbows, rump high, and I slowly pushed my rigid 
prong all the way into her, holding her hips as I did 
so. She squealed, but I was in to the hairy hilt and 
ready to get down to some serious swiving.

I ignored her protests and began doing her in sets of 
ten; ten fast, ten very slow, ten twisting, ten 
lifting, ten just inward, ten slowly out until only 
the head of my tool was still in her and then 
thrusting all the way home, bashing my swollen stones 
into her flesh, crying out with pleasure as I did. On 
and on I went until she climaxed again before me, her 
face down in the quilts, grunting with release.

I slowed, well into the second hundred and wanting to 
extend my rogering, holding myself in hard discipline 
and letting my ram do what it wished within her 
sopping cunny, my finger pressed hard under my cock 
and against the thick vein pulsing there.

She was spent, weeping and sniveling, her back 
shaking. I pulled it out and let her fall, still eager 
for more of her tight quim but willing to be patient. 
I flopped beside her on my back, my blood-hot root 
stretching out above my stomach. She rolled over and 
cuddled next to me. Her knee found the hard knot that 
was my turgid ballocks.

"I've never," she began, "that was; you've ruined me, 
ruined me."

"I need your help," I said quietly, caressing her 
smooth back.

"Um," she said, her face on my hairy chest as my 
fingers stroked the crack of her buttocks.

"Your intended's father," I said as calmly as I could, 
"I want to kill him, make it look like an accident."

She stiffened.

"Why, why?" she demanded, her knee still bumping my 
swollen sac, trembling belly pressed against my blood-
hot rod. "Can't we do it again? Please, please, once 
more."

I pushed her flat, rolled between her legs, spread and 
lifted her knees and crawled forward until the rubid 
head disappeared into her followed by many pressing 
inches of thick shaft. Then I let go of her legs and 
thrust it in to the very hilt, one vicious ram into 
the entrance of her womb. She gasped and shivered.

I held it there, fully extended and battering at the 
base of her cunt. She shook her head from side to 
side, flailing me with her hair her mouth agape with 
desire, eyes closed.

"He is a foul turncoat who has betrayed dozens of good 
men," I told her, lifting her hips and starting all 
over with long, slow thrusts and even slower 
withdrawals, rubbing hard against her nubbin, sawing 
steadily.

She came almost at once, gasping and arching, spasming 
and clamping me within her, as I stimulated her clit 
with every lengthy stroke, burying it in my coarse 
hair.

"Yes," she said after she licked spit back into her 
mouth and swallowed, looking up at me, eyes wide as I 
continued to assault her slim body at a steady 
cadence, about quick marching pace, a ram per second, 
hut two, hut two.

"You know him, don't you, know he is foul?"

She nodded, making small throat noises in time with my 
efforts. Just, "ung, ung, ung."

"Would you rather I didn't ejaculate in you?"

She nodded and mouthed, "Please, please," without 
changing the noises she was making.

Without breaking my rhythm I asked her, "Have you ever 
had a man's member in your mouth?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes, still, making 
the "Uh, uh, uhm," sounds as I continued to thrust 
into her shaking body, my stones tightening and 
swelling.

"All right," I said, pulling my sore member slowly out 
of her, rolling from the bed and stumbling to the 
window with my cock in my hand. I raised the sash and 
spewed out ribbons of jism into the night, milking 
myself and bending over, clamping my jaws to keep from 
crying out with relief.

When I was done, I wiped my ram on the curtains and 
came back to bed. She was still there, spread-eagled 
and moaning.

"I didn't know you were a . . ." she said as I slid 
down beside her and pulled her warm body to me.

"A what?" I said after I kissed her.

"A killer." She kissed me back and lifted her leg atop 
my waist, crooking her knee, holding us together.

"That's what I do,' I admitted, making my way down her 
young body. I kissed her clit, her navel, her nipples, 
her throat and her mouth and then I was back in her as 
we lay side by side, not far in, but in.

She made an odd noise but did not resist as my prod 
wiggled and flexed, sliding deeper and deeper, 
spreading her open as I rocked left and right.

"You know," I said to her mouth, "the second rogering 
usually lasts a lot longer than the first."

"Good," she said. I rolled to my back and pulled her 
atop me.

When we finally stopped, the eaves were still dripping 
but there was some faint light in the east. We slept. 
I was furiously hard when I awoke, but when I roused 
her, she quickly slipped from the bed, donned my long-
tailed shirt and hurried off to the privy.

I lay there on my back, my long pole eager for action. 
When she returned, I flipped back the covers and held 
the thing at its thick base, pressing it down on my 
belly. She crawled across the bed and took its head 
into her mouth without hesitation. It was not an easy 
thing to do. After she sucked it as deeply as she 
could, she swung a leg across mine, crouched above my 
throbbing spear and lowered herself gradually upon it, 
impaling herself with a smile on her face. I watched 
it disappear into her, rubbing along her tender lips 
and stimulating her tiny clit as it did, turning her 
lips inward as I filled her with a stalk that seemed 
about as broad as my fist. She smiled down at me, 
tossed my shirt aside and brought her breasts down to 
my mouth.

The sun was well up when I finally had to admit I was 
sated and withdrew my long member from her sodden 
quim.

She held it and kissed me. "About this murder," she 
said, raising an eyebrow.

"Execution,' I said, returning her kiss.

"It will certainly make my fiancé immensely wealthy."

"I suppose," I said, wondering why she was kneading my 
stones so tenderly. "Depends how he has it invested."

"Gold, farms, warehouses," she said. "I've never felt 
like this. Take me again."

"Let's get something to eat," I suggested.

"Um," she said, slipping down my body to engulf my 
root's sore head with her soft lips.

"Later," I said, trying to pull her away.

"Now," she insisted, releasing my swelling member 
briefly to tell me just that.

"I really can't," I told her, tangling my fingers in 
her hair.

"Um," she said, sucking deeply and squeezing my 
hardening balls.

When she was satisfied that I was once more capable of 
giving her pleasure, she fell to her back, lifted her 
knees and spread her legs. What choice did I have? I 
plunged into her like a man diving into an icy pool, 
and she enveloped me completely and enjoyed herself 
until she had climaxed and was lying limp beneath me 
with a smile on her lovely face.

"Enough," she gasped out, "enough for now."

I pulled what little remained of my proud manhood from 
her grasping cunny, found my clothes and joined her 
for a huge breakfast where we plotted assassination. 
She told me, looking embarrassed that the man I wanted 
to do away with had tried to seduce her. She hated 
him, she said.

Her lover and his father arrived at her invitation the 
next evening, a day in which the girl and I had spent 
inventing stimulating positions and exhausting each 
other with our fleshy demands. In less than a day she 
had changed, it seemed, from demure maiden of modest 
experience into a lusty wench whose needs were not 
easily met. I hoped her husband-to-be was up to the 
challenge.

I was introduced as a distant cousin, having shaved 
and brushed my clothes, and we enjoyed a light supper, 
discussing this and that. The father, a florid and 
mannerless man, inquired of the girl's dowry but his 
son brushed away the question.

I invited the man to come out to the barn to see the 
brood stock the girl's father had accumulated, and 
once I had him there, I bound and gagged him, told him 
he had been tried and convicted of treason, tied a 
good noose about this neck and hoisted him five feet 
off the floor. I let him dangle a while, yanked on his 
feet a time or two and then lowered him to the dirt 
and plunged a hay fork through his neck and chest 
while he looked up at me, waving his hands, unable to 
speak.

Then I mounted my horse and left, wondering how that 
story would end.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 77