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T.I.M.

By: Nakod Apa



'Laney! Laney!'

Ghislaine pretended not to hear the call and continued down the lane leading to the cliffs and sea shore. She felt entitled to ignore her mother's shouts - for had she not completed her share of the domestic chores? Was she not now at eighteen full grown, finished with high school and, lucky girl, been promised a job in the nearby town at the end of the summer holidays? 

Coming to the cliff path her long, lithe legs carried her rapidly away from their old fisherman's cottage and on toward the wooded headland that thrust into the sea a mile to the east of the village. 

The sun striking hot on her body made her glad he'd said not to wear underclothes. She might have coped with panties, though she much preferred the cool feel of air drifting up the legs of her shorts and onto the mound he'd insisted on shaving, but a bra would be unbearable - not that she needed one, her recently ripened breasts were high and youthfully firm.

Reaching a fork in the path she hesitated; one branch continued on to the headland, while the other wound steeply down to the seclusion of Shell Cove. Which should she take? Where would it please him most to discover her; in the woods - sun-bathing in its small central glade, her curves bare and exposed for his delight; or lying naked on the sands of the cove - sea soaked and eager to be used? 

Undecided she scanned the deserted cliffs, then out to sea where a small yacht lay becalmed. 

Suddenly - from nowhere - he was behind her, his hands resting lightly on the curve of her hips. Kisses moistened the back of her neck while hands stole under her tee-shirt, gently caressing her satin skin as they slid up to fondle her new, young boobs, the nipples hard in his palms. 

'Oh! Yes!' She moaned, abruptly aware of the way she ached with the need to know his touch.

'What do you wish?' She had to strain to hear his low, melodious voice start the incantation.

'To make you happy.' She fervently responded.

'And what will make me happy?'

'Taking me. Using me. Enjoying my body.' She was becoming breathless under his attentive handling.

'You will do all I ask?' His strong fingers continued to fondle her sensitive orbs, squeezing them hard enough to make her gasp, before gently stroking their erect buds.

'Yes, yes, I'm yours. Just tell me how I may please you.' 

Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shorts until, at last, they opened allowing the material to slip down her slim, boyish, thighs and pool around her ankles. As she stepped from them he grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head and down her arms. The hot sun fell scorchingly on her bare tits and mound.

'On your hands and knees,' he commanded, pulling her back from the path and onto the short, sheep cropped turf.

Eagerly she knelt, thrusting out her arms to support her upper body. She didn't attempt to look at him, she knew he couldn't be seen. She could only ever hear him, smell him, and above all feel the exquisite pleasure of his shaft driving into her, but never was he to be seen - not by her, not by anyone.

Ghislaine felt him kneel behind her, his already stiff shaft nudging her entrance, testing her wetness. She pushed back, desperate to impale herself on his length, willing him to fill her.

'Patience, my dear. I think slowly and deliberately is much more enjoyable.'

She groaned, 'No, now. Now!'

'Behave yourself, you're here to please me. Or so you said.' The perspiration on his chest dripped cool on her back as his hands reached round to grasp and milk her pendant boobs. Abruptly, with one violent thrust, he drove straight into her. She screamed.

Oh, it was good feeling him deep inside, but she wished she were the one riding, then she would feel his lips and teeth tasting her tits as she rose and fell on his big shaft.

He started with small, slow thrusts, that quickly rose to a crescendo until he was rapidly and forcefully sheathing and unsheathing his full length. Now Ghislaine was lost; now she knew nothing but the bliss of being roughly ravaged as she came again and again. 

At last, with a short cry, he erupted, his welcome seed flowing into her, filling her. He gave a final, perfunctory squeeze to her tits, then pulled his sated, empty cock from her and allowed her to collapse, exhausted but content, onto the grass. 

'Did I please you?' She panted. 'Did you have all you wanted from me?' There was no reply. Was he still there? 

Brushing a few small grass stems from her bruised breasts she looked round, although she knew that even if he remained close he would not be visible. All she could see was an expanse of pasture, empty except for the distant figure of an old crone slowly plodding along the path from the village. It seemed she was once more alone on the wide sweep of the cliff top. 

Spent, she stood and let the blazing sun dry her naked, sweat soaked skin before picking up her shorts and tee-shirt.

Dressed again she turned toward home only to find the old crone almost upon her. 'Good day Mrs. Pratt.' Ghislaine had been taught that politeness cost nothing.

'Yes it is. . . . So it's you he's chosen to have next.'

'I'm sorry?'

'Tim. That Invisible Monster. Tim, I call him. You're the latest he's picked to serve his sick needs.'

'How do you know?'

'I may be getting on in years but my senses are still sharp. Even from down the path I could hear the noise you were making as you were fucked - except I could see no one taking you. I knew then that it had to be Tim doing you, so I waited till he'd finished with you before I came on.'

'How very considerate.' Ghislaine was somewhat resentful at the thought of being watched.

'Not really. I just didn't want to have to acknowledge him.'

'How do you know of him?'

'Because I was one of his first.'

She looked hard at the woman. Slightly stooped from a poverty stricken grind she was probably three times Ghislaine's age. Her bone structure hinted that she could once have been as great a beauty. Perhaps she wasn't as ancient as she had imagined.

'You're too old.'

'Am I? Don't imagine that if you could see him he would be some handsome young stud. He never was, not even when he was regularly taking me, though - to be fair - he was presentable enough in those days. But now - when he's older than I am . . .'

'I don't believe you. You're just a jealous old woman.'

'So you may think, but then all you feel is the joy of a first love; of having a man who has made you his own; a man who delights in filling your cunni. You want to talk about him, let the world know how great he is. Well, I've been there. Join me in my cottage for a cup of tea and I'll tell you all about your so wonderful lover.'

Ghislaine stared, confused - what right did this old witch have to tell lies about his appearance, invisible though he was. But she was right, she wanted, needed, to talk to someone about him. She gazed out to sea - absent mindedly noticing that the yacht had hardly moved. 

At last, grudgingly, she agreed. 'All right, since I've nothing else to do right now.'

Impatiently she turned in the direction of the headland, the woman shuffling after her. As they passed the fork in the path Ghislaine motioned toward the cove, 'That's where I first met him,' she defiantly declared.

'Does it matter where? Once he'd decided to take you he would have found a convenient spot.' The old woman said.



T.I.M.



'Both.'

'If you knew him in his proper form you wouldn't allow him near you, let alone open your legs for him. Which gives him a problem. While, like any man he wants to fuck beautiful girls, more importantly he wants sons and that means young nubile females of child bearing age. The very ones who wont look at him.'

'You mean he's trying to get me pregnant!'

'Definately.'

'But why me?'

'Why not you? It's not especially you. He's been doing this for many years and while he has sometimes been successful in getting his conquests with child, to date all his progeny have been girls. At least we think so. There is a whisper that some twenty years ago one of the girls he took had a boy.'

'So why, especially, sons?'

'Because only males can inherit his monstrosity, and will themselves invisible. He must have an heir to carry on his depraved ways.'

'If he only comes when he is invisible how do you know what he looks like?'

'Because while he can't be seen directly, his reflection can. Why do you think I have all these mirrors?'

'So how did you find all this out?'

'At first by accident. I was a fisherman's daughter and one summer when I ripened into maturity he waylayed me as I passed the headland on my way home.

'Like you, I was young and eager for a man. And, to my delight, he had great stamina - he fucked me long and often. When a few more men have used you, you'll realize no normal man can satisfy you the way he can.

'Anyway, one day he came to the cottage. At that time we only had a small mirror but, by chance I saw him reflected in it. He wasn't the best looking man around but by then he knew how to arouse me, so at first I didn't object. 

'Soon, however, I found myself with child. I wanted to get rid of it. He said he'd kill me if I tried. And being invisible he could do so in a way that ensured he would never be caught. So I had the child - a girl, but made sure I didn't have another.

'Afterwards, he still took me from time to time. Not so often as before because he was amusing himself with several other girls in the village. By this time I wanted to refuse, but his threats to me and my daughter meant I couldn't say no. Then, one day when my daughter had grown up, I found he had started fucking her. He was taking his own daughter!

Ghislaine shook her head. 'I don't believe you. You could have stopped him if you wanted to.'

'How? Kill him and then try to explain how he happened to be in my room?'

'Move away. If there are other girls then he wouldn't follow all of you.'

'Easily said. But where's the money for travel, and what's to stop him killing me or any of the others as soon as he learned of our plans?'

'I'm sure you could have found a way if you really wanted to. You're making it all up. You're just envious that it's me he prefers.' Ghislaine was becoming annoyed. 

'On your own head be it. I've tried to help.' The crone threw her hands up in defeat. 'Here, take this mirror; keep it with you and the next time he has you, use it to see him. Then you'll know who's telling the truth.'