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"Specialization is for insects." -- Lazarus Long



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            "Love is a Wonderful Thing"

  I remember when our eyes first met. Hers were doe-like,
  innocent, submissive-- looking for a master. I don't know
  what mine looked like, but I imagine they gleamed, as I
  smiled at my discovery.

  Using the typical banter I found out her name was Sheri, and
  that she was a Elementary Education major, pledging to some
  sorority or other. She still referred to her father as
  "Daddy" and thought he was the greatest man in the world. I
  almost couldn't contain my laughter. Oh, I knew then that
  this was going to be one to remember.

  I think I told her I was a Range Sciences major. I don't
  remember. I never pay much attention to what I say, since
  all I need to do is feed back what they're telling me. I
  spoke glowing of my father and wanting to be like him-- my
  father, surprise, surprise, being much like hers. Not far
  into the evening we had "discovered" that we liked the same
  music, both loved to two-step (not that I know how, mind
  you), and wanted the same large family settled down in a
  small east-Texas town. I could almost see the words, "He's
  perfect" dancing inside her head underneath her overly
  made-up and hair-sprayed blond hair. (Please note that the
  word 'natural' never crept up in that sentence.)

  I bought her beer after beer and she giggled as she gulped
  it down like medicine. Yes, my dear, suck down your
  anesthetic, you'll be needing it later.

  She was wearing too-tight blue jeans, with a crease ironed
  into the front of the legs, and deep-maroon leather boots,
  that she had stuffed her pant legs into. Her shirt looked
  like a mans, as did her shining belt-buckle-- but at least
  it was one of the more subdued ones in this crowd. As we
  sat there and "fell in love" to the sound of the monotonous
  bass of country music I thanked God quietly that this one
  would force me to leave the hick-town never to return. Too
  many people saw me smiling and staring into her eyes over
  our third pitcher of cheap beer for me ever to return.

  "Come on," I said, even my steelish constitution being worn
  thin by the crowded bar and the loud music, "let's go."

  "Go where?" she said, playing coy because she should. I
  could tell by the way she sat up that she was dying to go
  off with this neo-father love of her life that was me.

  "I don't know-- we'll hop in my truck and see where the
  night takes us," I offered her my hand, like I was sure her
  father always did back when she would throw tantrums at the
  fair and refuse to come along.

  She stood up, took my hand and moved very close to me. "You
  wouldn't take advantage of me would you?" she asked, her
  body screaming for me to do just that-- do what *she* meant
  by "take advantage."

  "I am insulted," I said, my faked-accent thickening. "I am
  a gentlemen, just like my father and his father, and I would
  do no such thing to a lovely little lady like you." I
  smiled, with just a touch of evil-- she thought I was being
  coy.

  "You wouldn't?" she asked, feigning hurt; then she decided
  to jump in head-first "You're sure?"

  I smiled, said "Come on," and pulled her by her hand out of
  that god-awful meat-market. I had already found my filet
  mignon for the evening.

  As I drove at first around town and then out into the
  country-side that pushed in close on the town, Sheri nestled
  in my arm, and then dozed off on my shoulder. I drove out
  into the night until the town was just a faint glow on the
  horizon. Then I turned down a lonely road (I use the term
  "road" loosely) that I had found some weeks before and been
  down a few times at night since to make sure it was as
  un-used at night as it appeared to be. Soon the rest of the
  world was swallowed up by the low hills and the patchy
  trees, and we were alone, no one and no thing to be seen or
  heard. No one and no thing to see or hear.

  I pulled off the road and under a broad tree next to a small
  creek. In the day I'm sure it was quite a picturesque spot.
  At night with the right man it would have been perfectly
  romantic to Sheri and she would have smiled back on the
  evening for the rest of her life. I was not the right man.
  I was definitely the wrong man.

  As the truck jerked to a halt she woke up. She put her hand
  to her head, (which was probably hurting a bit as the beer
  wore off-- poor dear! No anesthetics for you!) and then
  looked up at me, the love of her life, with a smile. "Where
  are we?" she asked, not caring I'm sure. Anywhere with "her
  man" was the right place to be. Jesus, it's been three
  years now and she can still make me laugh!

  I didn't answer. I just kissed her hard and deep, probing
  deep into her mouth with my tongue. She moaned happily and
  opened her mouth wide to let me into roam her as I may. I
  put my hand to her mid-sized breast and worked it roughly
  against her body. She "umphed" at that. As I leaned her
  back onto the bench seat of the F-150 I had "acquired" from
  a dearly-departed owner a month or two ago, she slid her
  legs up onto the seat underneath me. We were still clothed
  and already she had parted her legs and put her thighs to my
  hips. I grabbed her shirt by the front and jerked it open,
  the buttons popping off and chinking about the cab. I'd
  seen some guy do that in a movie once and had always wanted
  to try it. It works if you jerk hard and fast enough.

  I kissed her neck and worked "feverishly" down into her
  cleavage. My, she was hot. Face pressed between her breast
  I could feel her giving off heat as her chest heaved up and
  down. I pulled back and said, "Your bra."

  She answered, "Oh, um," and after a moments contortion
  pulled her shirt and it off. Her breast were whiter than
  the rest of her skin, rarely seeing the light of day, and
  her hard nipples pointed slightly down and away from her. I
  dropped my body onto hers and put my mouth to her left
  nipple and began to suck it in and out of my mouth, then
  slowly brought my teeth closer and closer together so that
  her tender flash was pulled back and forth across them,
  until she finally said, "Ow..." plaintively. She didn't
  want to hurt my feelings or, heaven-forbid, have me think
  she was rejecting me. I smiled as I stopped and pulled back
  a bit from her.

  "Your pants," I said. She paused, a moment. The training
  was ingrained deep, not to do this sort of thing, but then
  again, I was the Love of Her Life. She popped open her belt
  and then undid her button-fly. She started to push them
  down, then said "Um, you're in my way," which I was, kneeling
  between her knees.

  "That's good enough," I said pushing them down over the tops
  of her boots, so that they bunched up over them-- hobbling
  her like a horse. Of course, she didn't realize it at the
  time. I looked up, "Your panties." I said. She paused
  again. Family and church really had this one by the
  psychological throat. But those romance novels and nights
  of relief from her fingers held her by something more
  powerful. She slid those down and I bunched them on top of
  her jeans.

  There I was, kneeling over her, fully clothed as she lay
  naked on the seat. She had willingly stripped off all of
  her protections against the world for this man she thought
  she knew. She had no reason to trust me, but since she felt
  love for me she had laid herself out for me to do what I
  please. Poor child. She had no idea what pleased me.

  I undid my pants and slid them and my boxers down over my
  hips, but not much farther, and again let my body down onto,
  and this time into, her. As I began to push and pull myself
  slowly into and out of her, she said, again so afraid of
  what I might think, "Umm, shouldn't we be, umm, have some,
  umm, protection?" I stopped at the top of my stroke and
  looked her in the eye.

  "We will before I cum," I said, and she smiled and nodded a
  bit. I rammed down into her hard and deep, and watched her
  eyes pop close and her head pull back. Oh my, she bought
  that lie like every other one. Oh yes, there was nothing to
  worry about from pregnancy my dear, nothing to worry about
  from nature. It had been years since I could cum from
  simply jack-hammering into a little lamb like you. I
  started my methodical push and pull again and relished in
  the feel of her vagina about my penis. So smooth, so soft.
  A hot little moist cushion weeping for me to squirt myself
  into it. So delicate, so vulnerable. I felt it sliding
  over my penis, coaxing ever so delicately my cum out of me.
  But delicacy wasn't going to do it, oh no. It was time for
  the games to end.

  I rammed hard into her-- she let out a squeak. "You know,"
  I said, her eyes popping open to look into my and I pulled
  back to pounce again, "I'm really going to hate having to
  kill you." In I came, fast, hard, deep.

  "What?" she gasped, her whole body jerking as I drove into
  her.

  "I like you," I said, pulling back, "Cutting your throat is
  going to be such a shame." I pounded into her again. Her
  body jerked, as I'm sure did her mind. Then she let out
  another little squeal and began pounding on me with her fist
  as I kept up my push and pull. "Stop!" she screamed,
  "Stop!"

  I pulled up and apart from her, feeling her lips pull off
  the head of my penis reluctantly, like saying good-bye to an
  old friend. I kneeled over her again, feeling the night
  cool away the moisture left on me by her. She stared at me
  wildly. "You only had to ask," I said simply.

  She jerked the handle and the truck door flew open and she
  scrambled to get out but I was kneeling on the mass of jeans
  around her calves. She struggled for a minute, tangling
  them more, then I took my weight off them and she plopped
  out onto the dusty ground outside. She began stumbling
  away, looking like something from a bad sit-com, her bare
  buns wiggling and her breasts hanging and jiggling like a
  jello mold before her as she grabbed at her pants and tried
  to pull them up. She fell down once or twice and I laughed
  in a fit for a moment or two before I went after her.

  "It was a joke!" I yelled, jerking my pants up over my hips,
  by leaving my penis exposed, "A joke! Come on! Sheri!" I
  was getting closer to her as she fell down again. "Don't
  run!" I was right on top of her and stopped. "I love you,"
  I said quietly.

  She stopped struggling and swung around to look at me, tears
  streaming from her eyes. We both were perfectly still for
  a moment, then she stuck her arms out for me, asking for a
  hug.

  The stupid bitch bought it!

  I picked her up under her arms and held her up in front of
  me. I looked her up and down. Body naked to the night.
  Skin pale and sickly white in the forbidden zones. Feet
  dangling ridiculously still in the boots with the trap of
  the blue-jeans still bunched around them, with her flowered
  yellow panties stuck on top. I looked into her eyes, which
  were still crying, which searched mine asking me to tell
  again her was all a joke, that I really did love her, that
  I was going to hold her close now and make it all right.

  Even I'm not that cruel.

  "Stupid bitch," I said with a sneer and tossed her to the
  ground. She hit with a thud, and before she could begin to
  scramble away I was on top of her. I weighed almost a
  hundred more pounds then her and easily forced her onto the
  ground. Then, holding my chest down on her back to pin her
  to the ground, I grabbed her buttox with my hands and pulled
  them apart. I put my penis against her clamped shut anus
  and pushed. She held tight. I slipped my forefinger into
  her and pulled her open and pushed my penis inside. Lord,
  it was tight and wonderful. I pulled back and pushed in and
  relished in the pain of her squeezing tight against me. In
  and out I went, as I heard her sobbing, muttering, "Stop,
  please, stop," when she had enough breath to. The feel of
  her young flesh pushing up against me was almost too much.
  Her ass was so soft and smooth pushing against it as I
  drove deeper and deeper into her was like fucking a
  silk-covered down-filled pillow. But I held myself.

  When it finally sounded like she was done with the worse of
  the crying I pulled out. I got onto to my knees, and as she
  tried to crawl away I grabbed her by her hair, and then
  jerked her to her feet as I stood up. I dragged her back to
  the truck and then launched her into the side of the bed,
  stunning her. I reached into the tool box in the back and
  pulled out a hunting knife. I grabbed her hair again and
  jerked her up till her head was at my waist level. I stuck
  the knife under her chin and pressed it against her throat.
  Her brain kicked in about then and I heard a soft, "No."

  "Do you want to die?" I asked simply.

  Again, her voice soft as if floating in from some place far
  off, "No."

  "Then open up train station, here comes the train." Her
  mouth dropped open and her eyes squeezed shut and I
  maneuvered my penis into her mouth. I pressed the head
  against the back of her throat and I felt her jerk a bit
  from a gag-relfex. "Suck," I said and her lips slowly
  closed around me and I felt the wonderful pulling as her
  body was again coaxing my cum from me. As she made sucking
  motions her tongue slid along the bottom of my penis,
  feeling not unlike when I slid back and forth inside her
  vagina. Slowly I began to help as I ease my hips forward
  and back and my penis in and out of her moist, sucking
  mouth. More and more I moved and harder and harder I went
  until I finally squirted myself into her as her body kept
  crying for, pounding my body into her face like I had into
  her hips and then her ass.

  With a satisfied sigh I pulled myself out of her mouth, and
  let go of her. She dropped to her side gasping and retching
  at the same time, making a grotesque sound. I tossed the
  knife back into the tool box and pulled out a nail gun-- the
  kind that fire nails using .22 cartridges. I grabbed her by
  the hair again and dragged her to the tree. She didn't
  fight much. When I stood her up against it, she barely held
  up her weight, she kept leaning forward like she wanted to
  collapse in upon herself. She didn't make a sound.

  But when I pulled up her left arm and then nailed the hand
  to the tree through the palm, did she scream. Lord did she
  scream. I thought I was going to be deaf after that one.
  She sounded like a tornado warning siren, except not as
  pleasing. But she still didn't fight. I nailed up her
  other hand, and she screamed briefly again.

  Then I stood straight in front of her and put the nail gun
  to her temple. "Do you want to die?" I asked. Her eyes
  stared blankly past me. I asked her again, "Do you want to
  die?" Her eyes wandered into mind and her shit-encrusted
  lips said, "Yes."

  I must admit this was a new one. Quite unexpected. So I
  didn't put the nail into her brain-- or at least what she
  called a brain.

  I went back into the truck, tossed the nail gun back into
  the tool box and got the knife back out. I went back to the
  tree and reached between her legs and pinched a hold of her
  labia minor, her vaginal lips. I pressed my shoulder into
  her waist to hold her as still as possible and carefully cut
  the lips off. When I was done I had a flappy little ring of
  flesh. I twirled it around my forefinger and I looked into
  her face and said, "Good-bye. Good luck. Have a nice
  life." She didn't look back at me. She had passed out.

  As I backed the truck onto the road the head-lights played
  across her. She was just standing there, here arms splayed
  out, nailed to the tree. Her hair was limp and dirty. She
  looked totally silly, wearing nothing but some boots and her
  jeans bunched up around her ankles. She looked so innocent
  and so possessable. Like a peach that has ripen and is
  waiting to be picked and eaten. Blood streamed down her
  left leg and was making a growing stain on her flowered
  yellow panties. Flowered yellow panties!

  After I put the truck into drive I tossed her labia minor
  onto the dash and laughed. I laughed so hard I almost
  couldn't drive.

  I mean, you just had to laugh.

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