5 comments/ 290498 views/ 18 favorites Secrets In The Dark By: blackzilla99 When I was younger my cock was hard all the time. No matter how much I jerked off it never seemed to get tired. I guess it was pretty normal for a kid my age, but I was obsessed with pussy. I thought about it all day. But it wasn't girls of my age that I lusted after; I wanted older women. And not just older women either; the ones that got my dick really stiff were older white women. I spent night after night thinking about my schoolteachers. The girls at the school just didn't cut it for me. They seemed boring and immature, always playing head games. I did try my luck with some of the girls in my age group, but they'd never let me fuck them. Sure, they'd let me suck on their tits or maybe give me a hand job. If I was really lucky I might get one to suck my cock, but then she wouldn't let me come in her mouth. It was bullshit like that that bugged me. An older woman wouldn't play such games - at least, I hoped she wouldn't. I was tired of going out on dates and coming home to my hand. Pussy was what I needed. I didn't mind where it came from; at 18 years of age I was tired of jerking off. It wasn't that I was ugly or anything I was just shy around girls. And when I did hook up with a girl my age I was scared and nervous. I always wished I could be more aggressive. When I did try to get some pussy and the girl said no, I would just stop. I was afraid to push the issue cause I didn't want to make them mad. I would always find out a week or two later they let some other guy fuck them. I guess my preference for older white women started on the golf course. I used to caddy for them at a country club in Westchester. A new caddie was called a rabbit, which basically meant a rookie. It also meant you didn't have enough golf experience to caddie for the men, so the caddie master would assign you to the women golfers. It was perfect for a horny young black kid like me. I got to spend four and half hours with four older white women. I loved it. Most of the women were rich, and probably in their early 30's to early 50's, and some of them were sexy too. I used to love watching them bend down to pick up their golf balls and stuff. The funny thing was that most of them didn't even like the game, and played it just 'cause their husbands did. I was always a perfect gentleman when I was out with the ladies. It wasn't just that I wanted bigger tips; I wanted them to like me and to ask for me to caddy for them. They all thought I was kind of cute, and I found myself adjusting the position of my cock for the entire 18 holes. I couldn't wait to get home and jerk off. I'd be standing on the green, holding the flag, and fucking these women in my mind. I'd fantasize that one of them would take me into the woods and suck my black dick. I'd imagine all four ladies standing on the tee in line for me to fuck them. They were rich, these ladies, with everything money could buy, but I thought I saw loneliness in their eyes. My mother and I lived alone, my parents having divorced when I was about ten years old. We had a small 2-bedroom apartment in White Plains - not the biggest place in the world, but enough for the two of us. My mother never went out except to go to work, and she came home every day. It wasn't till I turned 16 that I was allowed to be home by myself. About once a month on a Friday night she would say she was going out, and then she'd return home around 1 am. I was happy to see her go out. She was only 38 years old, and I thought she needed some fun. Plus, it left me home alone. The minute she walked out the door I'd grab one of my porno tapes, drop it in the VCR and spend the evening jerking off. Her once-a-month nights out soon became once a fortnight. One day she said she'd be going out with her white friend, Abigail, from work. I remembered Abigail from a company picnic, about 4 years earlier, when she'd sat with my mother and me the whole time, but I couldn't recall what she looked like. I remembered hearing about her long commute from New Jersey. When I asked about Abigail's husband my mother said that she'd divorced her husband last year, and now lived with her two kids. I was home when my mother and Abigail arrived from work Friday night, and came out of my room to say hi. "Will, this is Abigail. Do you remember her from the picnic?" I was speechless. She was beautiful, like one of those ladies at the country club I had a crush on. She was wearing a low-cut blouse that hinted at huge breasts underneath, and a short skirt that flared out at the hips. She didn't have to turn around for me to know she was packing a fat juicy ass. "Oh my God… look how he's grown!" she said, walking over and giving me a big kiss on the cheek. I said hello and stuff. I could feel my cock staring to stir; it had been a while since we'd had a guest in our apartment, and this hot ass white older woman was awesome. She smiled at my mother and said: "I bet all the girls are after him… he's so handsome." I blushed, embarrassed by the compliment. If she only knew that in my mind I was undressing her... that I had her bent over and was fucking the shit out of her... she wouldn't think I was so fucking cute! They went into my mom's bedroom to get changed, while I went back in my room, locked the door and jerked off. I thought about Abigail changing her clothes, and visions of her in bra and panties ripped through my balls, making me let loose a thick blast of cum into a toilet tissue. I couldn't believe how quickly I came. I went to the kitchen and got myself a drink. When the women joined me they both look great; even mom had a little extra pop in her step. My attention, though, was on Abigail. She looked fantastic. She had changed into a one-piece dress that really showed off her voluptuous figure. I said, "Wow! You guys look really good." Abigail seemed a little taken back. I guess she didn't expect that from someone as young as me. But she smiled and said, "D'you really think so, Will? It's been years since I went out." I grew bold and said, "Turn around and let me see." She spun around slowly, giving me my first opportunity to look at that bountiful ass. "WOW!" I exclaimed, and both of them giggled like schoolgirls. Abigail said, "You like what you see, then?" I said: "Hell, yeah! If I were 15 years older I'd ask you out. "You're a sweet boy, Will. Thanks for the compliment." "You're welcome… and, by the way, you look great too, mom." If Abigail only knew that I had a man sized cock between my legs, she wouldn't be so quick to call me boy. My mother usually got back about 1 am from her nights out. It was a stretch for her, as she normally found it hard to stay up late. Most nights she was in bed by 9:30, and out like a light by 9:45. At 1:15 am I started worrying, wondering where in hell she was. About 5 minutes later I heard the door burst open, and when I came out of my room I found my mother and Abigail in the doorway, drunk off their asses, laughing and giggling. I'd never seen my mother in such a state before, though Abigail seemed the drunker of the two from the way my mother was holding her up. "I guess you ladies had a good time." I said, smirking. Still laughing, they were having some difficulty getting through the door together. Mom said, "I'm sorry Will, I guess we had a little too much fun. But why are you still up?" I said, "You're usually back before 1, and when you weren't I got worried. That was a lie. I'd actually been surfing the web, looking for porn. Abigail said, "See? I told you he was a good boy. How cute he looks standing there, worrying about his mom." Though her speech was slurred, to me she seemed even sexier drunk than when sober. My mother said that Abigail had had 'way too much to drink, and would be staying the night. I said, "That's a good idea. I'll get some blankets and a sheet, and make up the couch. Again Abigail told my mom what a sweet boy I was. She didn't recognize the pervert inside. My mother looked exhausted. I knew she couldn't wait to get to her bed. I made up the couch like a good little boy. Abigail and my mother came in a few minutes later. I went to make a sandwich in the kitchen, just a few feet from the living room, and heard them talking; people speak louder than usual when they're drunk. I heard Abigail say, "My husband used to get me drunk and wait till I fell asleep. Then he'd fuck me in my sleep. I never used to feel a thing." I almost choked on my sandwich when I heard that. How could a woman get fucked in her sleep and not know about it. Then I heard her say, "What a selfish prick he was. I'm glad I divorced his ass." I heard them laughing again. My mom said she was beat and was going to bed. I came out of the kitchen and turned on the TV, handing the remote to Abigail, who was sitting on the couch in one of my mother's long T-shirts. The first thing I noticed was her creamy white thighs. They looked so soft and fleshy. Her hair was all over the place and she looked kind of funny. I said, "Here's the remote if you want to watch TV." She looked up at me with drunken eyes and said, "I won't be needing that. I'll be out like a light in 5 minutes." "Well, keep it just in case. Good night." When I got back to my room my 8-inch tool was at full stretch, and I lay down on my bed thinking about what Abigail had said to my mother. Two minutes later I heard mom shut her door. I couldn't get Abigail out of my mind. She'd looked so fucking sexy sitting on the couch in that t-shirt. I imagined how she might have looked when she was drunk and being fucked by her husband. The thought of her just lying there while being penetrated excited me. I wondered what her pussy looked like - was it hairy or bald? I was obsessed. The older white woman of my dreams was lying drunk in the next room. There wasn't a chance in hell that I'd sleep tonight. Lying in my bed, staring into the darkness, was pure torture. My obsession with pussy totally possessed my soul. I wondered if I was weirder than most kids my age. In my mind I fucked Abigail over and over, though I'd never yet actually fucked anybody. The closest I'd ever been to getting pussy was when I fooled around with this white girl from my school. She was Italian and told me she was saving herself for marriage and all that bullshit. But she did let me rub her pussy with my cock for a few minutes. I remembered how good it felt and how I wished I could just push it in a little. I rubbed the cockhead between her wet pussy lips while she watched me like a hawk. I begged her to let me stick it in for a second, but all she said was "No way." And she kept on saying no, though I begged and pleaded. I was a gentleman and didn't push it in. I had hoped that having got this far, maybe next time she'd let me push it in a little. Then maybe the next time she'd let me get in a couple of pumps... and so on. That hope was ruined the following week when she saw me talking to this girl she hated. She accused me of flirting, and said it was over between us. And I hadn't even been talking to the girl; she just happened to be standing next to me. That's why I couldn't stand girls my age. Everything became like an episode of Jerry Springer. There was nothing but drama round every hallway corner at White Plains High School. It had been at least an hour since my mother closed her door, and I still couldn't get my mind off what was lying on the living room couch. I needed to take a leak, so I left my bedroom and went into the bathroom. On the way back I passed the living room and saw the light from the television still on. I also heard Abigail snoring. It threw me at first; I hadn't realized women could snore like that. I thought I'd be a good boy and turn the TV off, but when I entered the living room and looked toward the couch I stopped dead. Abigail was stretched out on the couch, and what got me crazy was that her left leg was high up on the back of the couch while the sheet that should have been on top of her was all mangled and balled up around her waist. The only light was from the television. Suddenly the room became brighter - I guess they went to commercials - and to this day I have never seen anything prettier. Abigail was wearing some kind of blue lacey panties, and she looked incredible in them. What really got my attention and made my young cock jump to attention was how her panties fitted her. Instead of being tight and snug, they were loose and puffy. I hadn't seen too many women in their panties, but the girls I'd fooled around with had always worn them tight and snug. As my eyes adjusted to the light I saw her bush. The pussy hair was nice and thick, and to this day the memory of that hairy pussy gets my cock hard. She looked like a lifeless doll and I couldn't help staring at her. Her chest was moving slowly up and down; I found it exciting just to watch her breathe. I thought, no wonder her husband liked to fuck her while she was asleep - though I couldn't see how a woman could be fucked in her sleep and not know it. My dick was so hard it hurt. I wanted to fuck her so bad. I wished I had the balls to just jump on the couch between her legs and shove my cock into that hairy pussy. But, though in my dreams I am hard as nails, in real life I was a punk who'd never make such a bold move. I stared at her half-naked pussy for about ten minutes, my cock throbbing inside my shorts. All my fantasies were right there on the couch before me. I could whip my cock out and jerk off while looking at her. Who would know? I crept a little closer to see better between her legs. She seemed to be in a deep sleep... but how deep? The closer I got the warmer I became, with sweat trickling down my forehead. I was scared to death, but excited too. What if she woke up to find me standing over her and stroking my cock? I'd have to cut the TV off. But then, how the fuck could I see her in the dark? It was a dilemma. Fuck it, I'd have to leave the TV on. I'd hang on to the remote, with my finger on the off button, and if she moved a single millimeter I'd click the TV off and escape into the darkness. I felt like a cat burglar planning to steal the crown jewels. I grabbed the remote and got into position, the remote in my right hand and my cock in my left. I began stroking my cock and staring at my fantasy woman. The light from the television was fading in and out. One moment it was bright, the next it was pretty dark. It didn't matter, though, 'cause I never lost track of her crotch. Her panties were loose over her pussy area, and pussy hair was sticking out. Damn, she looked hot! I tried to visualize myself between her thighs, pumping with my black tool into that white hole. I didn't want the moment to end. It had to be the most exciting thing I'd ever done. But I wanted so bad to fuck her. I could feel pre-cum leaking from the tip of my cock, making it slippery. I was close to cummimg. I tilted my head back and slowed down my pace. I didn't want it to end just yet; I wanted it to last just a little longer. My hand felt so good wrapped around my cock. My balls were beginning to stir. I looked down at those spread legs and my mind silently screamed in ecstasy. " Ohhhh…Goddddddd" I exhaled slowly, trying to stop myself from panting. My mind was blurry and so was my vision. All of a sudden, BAAAM!!!! A hand clamped down on my wrist! My body went into to shock and my right hand automatically clicked off the television. I was BUSTED! "Wilson? Wilson? Is that you?" I was fucking caught. I felt like a drowning man as my life flashed before my eyes. The room was now pitch black. I couldn't see anything, but I felt Abigail's hand clutching my wrist, just inches away from my cock. I was paralyzed, and couldn't have moved if Id wanted to. For sure she was going to scream. I thought desperately how I might explain this to my mother when she came running from her room. "Wilson, is that you? Ohhh my God! What are you doing?" I thought about making a dash for it. A few seconds ago I'd been having the time of my life. Now I was wondering how much life I had left. Her hand was squeezing my wrist. I was toast and I knew it. I tried to pull my wrist away but she squeezed it even tighter. "Don't you dare move, young man. I … I….I…. know it's you, Wilson." I had to think real fast. What could I say? The one thing I had going for me was that it was dark. She still didn't know what I had in my hand. "I…I…I… I'm sorry I woke you, Abigail. I came in to turn off the television." I couldn't see her but I heard her shifting around. I hoped she was still drunk. In that case she might believe me and let me sneak off into my room. I saw her outline trying to sit up. For a brief second she loosened her grip on my wrist, and I thought I was home free, but the way she did it made her hand brush against my cock. She immediately grabbed my dick in her hand. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I was so embarrassed, and I just knew the next place I'd be going that night was jail. Like a blind woman feeling her way in the dark, Abigail felt her way with her other hand and cupped my swollen balls for a second. "Jesus Christ…. what do you think you're doing, Wilson?" "Aggh…. Nothing… nothing," I whispered. " Do you think I'm stupid, young man …. I know just what you were doing," she said sternly, "and I'm going to tell your mother. You should be ashamed of yourself." The last thing I wanted was for my mother to see me like this. I was scared to death and pleaded with Abigail, " Oh…. please don't tell her. Please, Abigail … I couldn't help myself. I'm so sorry." "What do you mean you couldn't help yourself? I thought you were a good boy. You should be ashamed. I will tell your mother, and she's going to be very upset." "Aw, please don't tell mom.. I… I'm so sorry. I really did come in to turn off the TV, but when I saw you on the couch, lying like that, I lost my mind. I do apologize, but you looked so beautiful.." The silence in the darkness was terrifying. No way was she was going to let me off, and I wished with all my heart that I'd stayed in my room. I expected her at any moment to scream out my mother' name, but as the seconds passed without her saying anything I began to hope that maybe she would accept my apology. "Do you really think I'm beautiful, Wilson?" I felt the tension in the room lift. Her voice was as sweet as it had been when she first came over. "God, yes, Abigail. You're the prettiest woman I ever saw. Please forgive me. I'm truly sorry for what I did." Suddenly there were two hands round my cock, but I was still afraid, and didn't know how I should react. "May I go now? Please … I'm so embarrassed." "You're not going anywhere, young man. You need to be taught a lesson." It did appear, however, that she no longer intended to call my mother, which was a huge relief. There was a long silence, which I was afraid to interrupt. Abigail was still holding onto my cock and balls. "For such a young man you sure have a big cock. Do you jerk off often?" She spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. I didn't reply, still too afraid to speak. "That was a question, you nasty little boy." "I…I….I…..yes, Abigail, I do." I suddenly realized that she was stroking my cock and fondling my balls. "Your cock is real hard, Wilson. Were you about to cum? Were you going to shoot your cum over me, you nasty little bastard." I thought I detected amusement in her voice, but I wasn't sure if I liked the sound of "nasty little bastard." I said nothing. "When I ask you a question I expect an answer. Do you understand? Otherwise I'll scream and wake your mom. I mean it." "Please don't do that. I'll do whatever you say; only, don't call my mom…. Pleeeease." "Have you ever had sex with a girl, Wilson?" "A…a…a…yes" "DON'T LIE TO ME, YOUNG MAN," she said sternly. Secrets in the Dark ATTENTION READERS: The following is not a complete story. It is the first chapter of a novel I am writing called Secrets in the Dark. This novel will be filled with mystery, suspense, intrigue, and of course erotic liaisons. I have been working on this novel in my spare time over the past year. I am looking for feedback as to the following: -Do the characters grab you? -Do you care what happens to the characters? -Does this story grab you? -Now that you have read the first chapter, do you want to read more? -Do you think this piece needs to be thrown in the trash heap and burned? -Other suggestions are welcome I thank those of you who take the time to provide constructive feedback with details. If you just tell me is sucks or you hate it, this doesn't provide any meaningful feedback to me. -------------------------------------------- With eyes closed, she sensed the bump before it came, air in the cabin motionless, devoid of sound. Then her head bounced slightly on the sill of the window overlooking the wing. "Sorry for the bump folks," a gravely voice broke the silence overhead. Maureen lifted her head slightly as she brushed her long dark hair from her eyes, returning her thin hands to her lap, sitting quiet and sullen listening to the muffled roar of jet engines. Having been on the run for more than ten hours, still, she did not feel free. She wanted so badly to get some rest, but was afraid to close her eyes for fear she would wake to find this all a dream. Staring out the window of British Airways Flight 812, she watched as the safety light on the tip of the wing slowly blinked into view from behind a bank of clouds. As the plane cut through the overcast scene spread out before her on flat fields of green, the first drops of another rainy English morning beat against fuselage, dripping down the window pane beside her seat. Closing her eyes, she thought of the house of horrors she had just escaped. Three years earlier, she had been lying awake in bed, stomach cramps searing through her thin body, threadbare blanket pulled tightly to her chin. Down the hall she could hear water pouring from the showerhead in the bathroom. Her father had arrived home from work. When the water stopped, her nightly hell would begin. Crawling from her bed, her thin naked body shuddered as she grabbed her tattered robe wrapping herself. Opening her bedroom door, she stared down the hall, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight streaming in from the alcove which led to the living room. On bare feet, silently she crept, stirring dust bunnies on the hard wood floor of the hallway. Reaching the end, thin fingers encircled the cold knob of a small thin door. Slowly she pulled it open hoping the squeak of hinges would not betray her. Pulling the heavy door closed behind her, she turned and began to descend the old wooden stairs, inky black darkness swallowing her. Stepping off the last plank laden with slivers, Maureen felt her toes instinctively curl the sensation of cold dirt and pieces of jagged scattered gravel cutting into her tender feet. Clenching her teeth, she groped in the darkness, searching for her secret place. Huddling between the chimney and the cold foundation of the house, she closed her eyes and shivered, wrapping her arms around chest. She was in no mood to deal with his accusatory tirades, justification for the pain he wrought. Sitting in the suffocating darkness, the basement reminded her more of a tomb than a storage area. Suddenly, a single bulb dangling from bare wires pierced the blackness, illuminating the dank dirty room. As the footsteps descended, she counted each creaky step, silently praying as she rolled herself in a tight ball pulling her robe ever tight. As she watched her father, she escaped detection, but discovered a secret, she knew none of her brothers or mothers were aware of. ------------ James Gould looked at his watch, picked up a mug beside the pot and began to pour. Suddenly, he heard a hard thump against the back door. Startled, he looked up to view the security monitor, his hand shaking as he poured muddy brown coffee down the side of the ceramic cup scalding two fingers. "Fuck," he winced, quickly setting the coffee pot back on the small table in front of him, switching the cup to his empty hand, shaking burnt fingers in an attempt to cool the sting. Gazing back at the monitor, he saw a tree branch, three feet in length leaning against the steal back door. The tree towering above the door bore a new wound, as wind whipped snowflakes circling the massive trunk. Across the interior of the office, through a large bullet proof window overlooking the border crossing, Jim could see the outline of Noel Bennington. The new rookie was speaking with the occupants in a dark blue car. Glancing at his watch again, Jim watched the second hand tick slowly. Tonight, like so many other nights, an old scene played out in his minds eye. He smiled gingerly flexing his burnt fingers. It was payday, not his government issued penance but his ticket to freedom. With broad shoulders, standing well over six feet tall, his hands resembled plump Easter hams. Jim Gould had established himself as a man with nerves of steel and a heart of gold amongst the people of his community. Well respected, he served on the local school board, taught soccer in the fall and ran Little League baseball in the summer. There weren't too many days that went by when the townspeople read a story in the local paper that reminded them of Jim's one defining heroic deed, the moment that ingratiated Jim to them forever. Two years earlier, Jim, tired of the traffic back east, transferred with his family to the small border crossing of Eastport in northern Idaho. It was while on duty his second week when he discovered 5 kilos of coke hidden inside of a tool chest in the back of a truck crossing at the border station. Two young college kids from out of state had been promised enough money to pay for their tuition, plus as much weed as they wanted. Instead, they each received twenty year prison sentences. What the townspeople or none of Jim's co-workers knew, was the bust had been a setup. A plan hatched by his contacts a shadowy group, whose members John couldn't even identify. Lifting the steaming coffee to his lips, his right hand shaking, Jim savored the nutty flavor. Lately he had noticed on his special payday, it was becoming much harder to calm his nerves. Just nine more months he thought to himself as he mentally counted his stash, just nine more months. Turning, Jim began to walk back to his desk, drops of coffee spilling from the cup, lost in the cornucopia of melted snow and muddy boot prints on the once white linoleum floor. A sharp buzz pierced the silence of the room, cutting a jagged slice through Jim's thoughts. Susan Branch and Frank King walked through the main door of the station ready to start their shift. "Good I can get the hell out of here," Jim muttered under his breath. "Hey Cap," Frank smiled. "Slow night?" "Yes," Jim smiled, feeling nervous flip-flops mix with the coffee fueled heart burn rising in his stomach. "Well the roads are six inches deep. Looks like George didn't get out with the plow yet. He's probably passed out in his cab." "Probably," Jim chuckled, thinking about the one man in their county assigned to plow the roads. George was pretty reliable, but sometimes his priorities were as blurred as his vision while he plowed the snow covered roads. Jack Daniel's or ensuring the safety of the citizens of tiny Eastport, sometimes George had a hard time making a choice. "Jim, you want a beer," Officer Bennington asked as they walked to their cars at the end of their shift. "No thanks," Jim grunted, "I need to get home." "Wife sick again," Noel asked, concern in his voice. "Hmmm," Jim answered barely audible "See you tomorrow night than, hope she feels better." Noel flashed a toothy smile, fishing his car keys from his pocket. Jim sat waiting for the heater to warm the interior of his truck. Staring through the windshield, he watched as Noel's taillights disappeared. The snow had stopped, but turned to sloppy slush under the wheels of his truck as he began to back out of his parking space. Pulling away from the border station, Jim glanced in his rearview mirror, watching the lights of the Canadian Border fade from view. As he drove, Jim's thoughts turned to Noel's offer, and then to his wife. Gripping the steering wheel his knuckles began to turn white. God he hated her. And cursed the day he married back into the cycle. She reminded him of his alcoholic, drug addled mother. Having raised Jim on her own, his mother's demons had gotten the best of her. In exchange for her daily fix she had offered his childhood up as currency for a rush. As he slowly rounded a snow slicked curve, Jim's mind flashed back to a memory. He was ten again and Lenny, his mother's dealer was holding him by the back of the head, greasy crotch, smothering Jims face ------------ "On behalf of Captain Morgenstern, myself, and the crew welcome to Heathrow International Airport. We hope you have a pleasant stay and choose British Airways again for all your travel needs. The time is 6:30 am British Standard Time." Turning from the rain spattered window, the memory of the night she discovered the secret rushed from her mind as passengers stood and began to ransack the over head compartments. Reaching for an overnight bag tucked underneath her seat Maureen opened it taking inventory of the contents; passport, sunglasses, change of clothes, toiletries, and a small book with telephone and bank account numbers. Disembarking behind a mother, with two small children, she wondered what life was like for them. Their mother was smiling as she herded them along, but Maureen wondered if it just her public mask? Slipping on dark sunglasses she felt stupid, but knew she had to be cautious. She was thousands of miles from home. But had she inadvertently left a clue? She couldn't take that chance being so close to freedom. Picking up a battered old suitcase from the baggage carousel, she removed her sunglasses. She did not see anyone she recognized and told herself she was just being stupid. As she approached customs, she began to tremble. Had she made the right decision to leave home? Would she be safe, living on her own in a foreign country? "Do you have anything to declare Miss Connelly?" the gray haired official asked, eyeing here directly. "No sir," Maureen smiled shyly. From this moment on, she needed to remember her old identity was now a thing of the past. "And what brings you England?" "I am here visiting relatives for a few weeks." "And where do your relatives live miss?" "Devonshire", Maureen answered hoping her response sounded more matter of fact than a question. "Have a pleasant stay," the official smiled, stamping her passport, his teeth reminding her just how crooked her life had been up to this point. "Thank you," Maureen smiled, as she bent to pick up her suitcase. Walking away from the counter, a trail of cold sweat began to snake a slow trail down her back. ------------ The sign for Crescent Lake loomed ahead, flashing green as the headlights of Jim's truck cast an eerie glow across the white letters. Glancing into his rear-view mirror, Jim checked the road behind him making sure he didn't have company this late at night. Shifting into four-wheel drive, he slowed to a crawl, spotting the small faded red flag hanging from the branch of a pine tree. Checking his rear view mirror a second time, he flipped the switch for the spot light hanging on the side of the passenger door. The old logging road framed on either side by steep banks and tall pines raising high into the dark night were covered with about a foot of snow. The bed of the road had always been solid in the past. Tonight there was nothing to indicate it would be any different. Turning onto the road, he began a slow, cautious drive. Opening the glove box, Jim found a flashlight and climbed out of his truck. Reaching behind the seat he extracted a crowbar and gloves. As he began to walk into the cold black night, his breath puffed a white cloud into the freezing air. An owl hooted in the distance signaling his arrival. The snow on the top of the stump had been cleared away. But if anyone was to come upon it, Jim doubted they would suspect anything. This was a popular winter snowmobiling spot for locals; a perfect place to hide something right under the nose of everyone who was more concerned with sipping from bottles of whisky while riding their machines full bore. Before he got to work, Jim trained his flashlight on the other side of the stump. One set of snowmobile tracks trailed off into the black night from the opposite direction he had entered the road. Suddenly, Jim heard branches snapping off to his left. His heart flipped twice, leaping into his throat as he turned off the flashlight and hit the ground, eating a mouthful of cold snow. As the sounds began to get closer he froze. "I'm done this time," he thought to himself, "they have finally caught me. Fuck me, I'm so close." As Jim lay in the cold snow, a large black shape stepped out of the trees, no more than ten feet from his position. Although it was a cloudy, the moon had managed to seep through a break in the clouds casting an eerie glow across the dark landscape. The large black shape turned its head from side to side, a grunt escaping its mouth, snorting as it smelled the intruder. A few minutes passed as Jim watched the beast in silence paw at the snow. Without warning, the shape turned and walked away, down an embankment, heavy steps splashing water. Jim could hear his own breath, ragged, as he stared into the black night where the shape had disappeared. When all was quiet, he found his flashlight and aimed it on the spot where the dark shape had been. Elk tracks. Satisfied the animal was gone; Jim slowly rose to his feet. Setting the flashlight in the snow, he found the crowbar. Grasping the cold steel in his gloved hands, he shoved the curved end of the bar at the stump, metal against wood. A muted thud broke the silence of the black night. Striking pay dirt he had found the notch in the stump. Working the bar into the tiny space, Jim pulled up with the bar, splitting the stump in two where it had been pre-cut. Picking up the flashlight, Jim trained the faint yellow light into the wooden hollow illuminating a canvas bag. ------------ Walking through the duty free section, Maureen smiled for the first time in weeks. Although she was frightened, being alone in a foreign country, anything was better than one more day in that house. Approaching a cluster of ATM machines she heard a voice behind her. "Excuse me miss." Maureen froze in her tracks, she was afraid to move. Closing her eyes, she felt her heart sink like a heavy stone into a bottomless lake. She knew her new found freedom was too good to be true. She had been caught. Turning in the direction of the voice, the customs official who had stamped her passport was standing behind her. "Miss, you might need this," he smiled, handing her the overnight bag she had carried onto the plane. "Thank you sir, it was a long flight, I must be tired." Maureen smiled suddenly realizing that she had forgotten her carry on bag at the customs counter. "We all lose our minds sometimes," he looking deep into her in the eyes as if he knew she was out of her element. "Do you need directions?" "No, I just need to withdraw some money", Maureen pointed to the bank of ATM machines. "Have a good afternoon miss," he winked turning away from her, walking towards a door marked employees only. Stepping before one of the machines, Maureen opened the bag the office had returned to her. Retrieving her pocketbook, she opened it, removing a bank card. As she waited for the machine to dispense money, she looked around. Over to her right, she saw a small lounge with a couple of small round tables and a few chairs. Removing the money from the tray, she wrapped it around the card and slid both back into her wallet. Grasping her suitcase and carry on bag, she walked towards the lounge to get her bearings. She did not see the man watching her. ------------ Opening the door to the truck, Jim slid the crowbar back behind the seat. With a grunt, he squeezed his two hundred and fifty pound frame behind the steering wheel. Turning the key in the ignition, Jim pushed in the clutch and began to slowly back his truck down the dark road, his mind drifting to white sandy beaches, bikini clad woman and cold margaritas, a stark contrast to the weather outside. Soon he would be free from his job, nagging psychotic wife, and the children he never wanted in the first place. As he approached his house, the liberating thoughts quickly vanished. Pulling into the driveway, he noticed that all the lights in the house were off. He would be able to hide the bag without anyone questioning the contents. Turning on his flashlight, Jim trained it at the bottom of the pit, the yellowish glow, dancing on top of the lid of an old wooden truck. Grasping the top of the ladder with one hand, and the canvas bag in the other, he began to descend into the dark hole. At the bottom, he stood before the trunk smiling; his own private treasure chest. Opening the lid of the trunk, the smell of money and stale dirt assaulted his senses, a smiling playing on his lips. He felt like a man who had just won the lottery. Reaching inside the canvas bag, Jim tore open the plastic package containing a mix of tens, twenties and Ben Franklin's. Inside the trunk, laying the first stack on top of the old, he didn't notice anything different about the trunk. It was when he laid the second bundle of bills down that his blood ran cold. In horror, he watched as false rows of money imploded, falling into a small pile at the bottom of the trunk. Sticking out from the sides of the pile he saw pieces of cardboard. Frantically he dug through the small pile of money and cardboard. "Where is all of my fucking money?" Jim spat through clinched teeth his face turning red. He knew at last count he had well over $50,000 stashed away in the trunk. Someone has found this hiding spot, and ------------ "Leader one, this is leader two I have a target in site," the man in the dark suit spoke into his radio. "Will advise when I know more." While he returned the small phone to the inside pocket of his suit, he stubbed out a cigarette on the worn tile floor. Turning his head back to the woman he watched as she packed s small bag into a larger suitcase. Zipping her suitcase closed, Maureen began to walk towards an information booth she saw off in the distance down the terminal. The man followed behind her, looking inconspicuous, just another passenger lost in an endless sea of tourists; businessmen, woman and children. "Excuse me," Maureen smiled as she stopped in front of a counter, a sign reading Information Booth glowed over head. "Could you tell me where I may find this address?" Handing a plump middle aged lady behind the counter a slip of paper, Maureen waited. The man in the suit waited as well, pretending to read the latest football scores, silently cursing Manchester United for losing the last match. "Miss, you probably don't want to take a taxi to this location," the plump information lady smiled. "The fare would be way too dear. I would recommend you take the train here at the airport which connects to the tube." The lady in the information booth produced a train schedule, and began to circle station names and times as she read each to Maureen. "Miss you need to go to Terminal Two. From Terminal Two, take the 8:00 am train to Piccadilly station. From "dilly" catch the 9:30 train to Paddington station. From Paddington, the Bayswater Inn is a short taxi ride away. Can I help you with anything else Miss?" The lady smiled, crows feet, showing at the corners of each of her hazel eyes. Secrets in the Dark "No, you have been a big help" Maureen smiled, "Thank you." As Maureen began to walk towards Terminal Two, the man in the suit followed, paper folded under his arm. Waiting on the platform for the next train to arrive, Maureen watched the people come and go around her. She was frightened to be in this big place, a foreign country all alone. But what was the alternative. Her old life, the old house she grew up in. A place so cold and unforgiving, you could literally feel your soul dying inside. Trains came and went as Maureen sat on the bench waiting for the train to take her to Piccadilly Station. It had been a long flight and she was eager to get to the hotel where she would be lodging for the next month. She was lost in her thoughts taking in this new country around her when a train pulled into the station. She recognized the number on the side and realized that this was the train she needed to board. Picking up her suitcase, she climbed the stairs, and found a seat just inside the door. As the train began to pull out of Heathrow Airport, although she was afraid, a new sense of freedom began to swell inside her. Each click clack of the wheels on the track was one more additional step to freedom, pure freedom, where she could eventually sleep at night, and chase her own dreams and desires. ------------ Storming out of the hole, with the agility of a superstar athlete, Jim took the stairs leading from the basement two steps at a time hauling his pot belly with him. He doubted if his wife had taken the initiative to get off her fat ass to venture into the basement, but he had to make sure. Throwing open their bedroom door, he was greeted by snores and grunts reminiscent of a barnyard. "What, what?" his wife replied with a groggy waft of onions and tobacco as he shook her awake. "Have you been in the basement the last few weeks?" Jim questioned his wife, his eyes black as coal, filled with hate. "No Jim, you know I don't go down there. Why what is wrong?" "Oh nothing, fuck!" he shouted stomping out of their blissful marital chamber. Jim Gould was a man on a mission. He knew someone in the house had taken his money, but whom? Opening the door to Brian's room, he began to unbuckle his belt as he walked towards the bed. Brain lay on top of his covers wearing white brief's his back and legs exposed. "You little son of a bitch," Jim shouted as he raised his arm high in the air, bringing the leather down with a sharp crack across his son's back. "What in the fuck did you do with it? "Dad," Brain was wide awake with a jolt, his fifteen year old eyes as big as saucers. Curling into a ball to protect himself from the successive blows he was sure would come, he cried out to his father, "What you are talking about?" "Don't lie to me, damn it. You know damn well what I am talking about," Jim bellowed as he swung the belt, leaving a welt on his son's exposed calf. "Dad," Brain was crying now, "I swear I don't know what you are talking about." "Have you been in the basement within the past two weeks?" "Yes, but just to get the clothes out of the dryer." "What else did you do down there?" Jim clinched his teeth hissing as he spoke. "Nothing," Brian protested, his calf now displayed a red welt from the leather belt. Jim stood staring down at his son, eyes burning with rage. For a split second he thought about telling Brian what he was referring to in the basement but dismissed the thought. After all, he could start again and still use the tunnel for hiding if Brian in fact was telling the truth. "Let's go you little shit," his dad said grabbing him by the arm hauling him up with one hand. "We are going to get to the bottom of this if it takes all night." Jim Gould gripped his oldest son behind the elbow. The skin turned white pinched between his meaty fingers as he marched Brian to out of his bedroom to another room a few feet down the hall. "Sit," he said shoving Brain onto a bed in the room they had just entered. Underneath the cover's, a small body stirred. Little Ricky did not see the hand as it descended upon him. Whipping back the covers, Jim grabbed him by the hair, pulling him into a sitting position on his bed. "Rise and shine you little bastard," Jim released his clutch on his youngest son's hair, fists balled at his sides as he stood surveying his offspring. Ricky looked at his father, white, as if a ghost had invaded his dreams. He wondered if he were having a nightmare. "Now, one of you has been in the basement and one of you has taken something of mine. You two are going to sit here until I get some answers. No school, no breakfast, no bathroom breaks, nothing. "Dad we don't know what you are talking about," they both looked at each other and then to him answering in unison. Then Brian spoke up, "Have you asked Maureen? Maybe she took it. You know that she has to go into the basement to light the fire in the morning and wash the clothes." Without a word, Jim Gould reached out and slapped both of his son's with a hard open hand. He had learned how to hit them and not leave any bruises. "For your sake, the two of you had better hope like hell that your sister is responsible for this. Because if she isn't, the three of you will wish that you were dead." Leaving the room, like a ragging bull, Jim stormed down the hall, and stopped before a door at the end of the hall. Standing before the closed door with flaking white paint, he could feel rage beginning to build inside. Whether she knew where the money was or not, he knew what her punishment would be. She was responsible for her siblings and she would pay for their transgressions. "Maureen," Jim shouted as he opened the door. Looking to her bed, he froze. It was empty, she wasn't there. Walking to it, he sat, head in hands wondering where his money was, and wondering where his daughter was this late at night. Secrets In The Dark It was pointless for me to lie; even in the dark she could obviously see through me. She gave my balls a squeeze, and kept on squeezing. I would have cried out from the pain but the fear of waking my mother made me grit my teeth and say, "No… No…. I haven't had sex yet…. I 'm sorry…… Aw….once a girl did let me rub it against her pussy lips…. but that was it…. I…. I…. swear." Her grip on my balls relaxed, and she started stroking my cock again. Why was she torturing me like this? What did she want from me? It was too dark to see much, though my eyes had adjusted enough to make out that she was sitting straight up on the edge of the couch. She said, " Look, Wilson, you can relax. I'm not going to tell your mom. Just don't lie to me, ok?" I suddenly felt very relaxed. I felt I could breathe easily again. Abigail adjusted her grip on my cock and really started stroking it. "Mmmmmmm……awwwwhhhhh," I groaned. "Mmm… do you like that? Does that feel good, Wilson" "Ohhhhhh God, yes…… Mmmmmm." "Have you ever had your cock sucked, Wilson. Did any of your little girlfriends ever give you a blow job?" My heart leapt into my mouth. I stammered, "N-no. N-no one ever sucked my cock." "Would you like me to suck it? How would you like that…you nasty little boy?" I couldn't believe it. I'd always dreamed about having my cock in a woman's mouth, and here I was in my living room with my mom's friend, and she was asking me if I wanted her to suck my cock! "I'd like that very much," I whispered. "Well, ask me nicely and I might do it…… but you will have to ask nicely." I whispered back at once, "Abigail, will you please, please suck my cock? I want it so bad. Please do it for me." I begged my ass off. I wanted her to know that I really wanted it, and that she would be my first. I still wasn't prepared for it, though, when I felt soft lips wrap themselves around the tip of my raging hard-on. The first time a woman's lips touch your cock is an experience you will never forget. "Ahhhh….. Mmmmm…..Ohhhh my God!" I breathed. Abigail's mouth was wet and soft, and she stroked my cock as she sucked it right in. In all my dreams and fantasies I'd never guessed that a woman's mouth around my prick would feel this good. She took me in deep, deep, until I felt the head hit the back of her throat. "Mmmmmmm… that's so good…. yeeeessss… That feels so good, Abigail." She started vigorously sucking my cock and simultaneously stroking my shaft. I felt something start to bubble up in my balls. "Abigail…. Abigail…. you're gonna make me cum," I whispered. Her only reply was to take my cock even deeper into her mouth. I was seconds away from ejaculating. Clenching my fists and almost biting my tongue in my excitement, I hissed, "Abigail… Abigail… Ohhh.. God, I'm gonna cuuuummmmmmmm...!" I tried to pull my dick out of her mouth, but she grabbed my ass and pulled me back in. "Agggghhhhhh…agggggghhh…agghhhh." A hot blast of thick cum spurted from my dick into her mouth… then another.. and another. Abigail didn't skip a beat. "Mmmmmmm……mmmmm," she moaned as she drank up my young seed in the dark. The vibrations of her lips and mouth around my cock made it spurt even more cum. It only took seconds, but seemed like a lifetime. I'd jerked off a thousand times imagining myself filling a woman's mouth with cum, but actually doing it was a million times better. Eventually she slipped my still-hard dick out of her mouth and began stroking it again. "Well, did you enjoy that, Will? Did it feel good, young man?" "Ohhhh…yes. It was incredible. Thank you so much," I said, and I meant it. "Jesus Christ, Wilson, you're still hard as a rock! What's wrong with that thing of yours?" she said, a note of amusement in her voice. "I don't know. It usually stays hard for a long time. I never had a blow job before, and I guess my body isn't used to it." I was no longer afraid. I wanted to give Abigail a big hug and thank her sincerely for giving me my first blowjob. She was still stroking my cock when she said, "Now, you must never, ever, tell anyone what I just did for you, OK? Promise me now that what we just did will stay between us." "Oh, I promise. I'll never tell a soul." I felt great. I'd had my first blowjob, and it had been awesome. I'd always thought I'd get it from a girl my age, but I doubted any girl my age could ever have sucked my cock as well as Abigail had done. I started to file away the memory of my first blowjob for when I got back to my room, where I planned to jerk off some more. I sensed Abigail moving around in the dark, and then she said, "Damn! I'm soaking wet." I heard a giggle like that of an embarrassed schoolgirl, which I thought was cute. "Wilson, you want to feel how wet my pussy got from sucking your cock?" "Wow, yes! May I touch it?" I said excitedly. " Sure Why not….give me your hand." She grabbed my hand and brought it down towards her crotch. The closer it got to her pussy the hotter the room seemed to be. Then she mashed my hand against her pussy mound. The first thing I noticed was how thick and soft her pubic hair was. Also, it was real meaty. I hadn't felt up that many pussies before then, but Abigail's was meatier than any of the others - nice and plump, and much more fleshy. "Go ahead, put your finger in. It won't bite you." "Uh…ok," I replied. I palmed her pussy with my right hand, slipping my middle finger down to separate her pussy lips. They came apart nice and easy, and I understood what she'd been talking about. Her pussy was dripping wet. It sucked my finger inside her hole like a vacuum. "Wow, Abigail, your pussy's really wet. And it's so soft and warm. Would you mind if I fingered you for a bit?" "It's ok, go ahead, but be gentle. My pussy is very sensitive." Her words were carried on soft, hardly audible breaths. I felt, rather than saw, her lean back and spread her legs, giving me the fullest access to her pussy. I got right down on my knees between her thighs. I really longed to be able to see what her pussy looked like from up close. I started gently working my finger in and out of her cunt. I was trembling, it was so fucking exciting. The inside of her pussy felt like slippery silk, and the vaginal walls contracted around my finger whenever it pushed in all the way to the knuckle. "Mmmmmmm, yeeesssss, that's good. See how wet you got me?" The girls whose pussies I'd fingered before had only let me do it for a minute or so. Abigail was setting no time limits. She sat right back with her legs spread so that I could play with her pussy to my heart's content. As I diddled her cunt she kept up a continuous low moaning. I was desperate to see her pussy, and brought my face down as far as my wrist, where I was hit by a marvellously pungent, slightly fishy aroma from between her thighs. I don't know if it was instinct or just pure lust that drove me to ask her. "Abigail," I whispered, "Can I… may I... taste you? Can I lick it?" I wasn't going to do anything without her permission. She could still complain to my mom, and anyway, I was a gentleman and had plenty of respect for her. "I would luuuuuve that, Will. But be gentle, OK?" she whispered. I gingerly put out my tongue and tasted pussy for the first time in my life. When my tongue landed between her spread lips, her body slumped and the air came out of her in a long slow sigh. I tried to fuck her with my tongue, though I hadn't a clue what I was doing. Her pussy tasted unlike anything I had ever tasted. God, I wished I could see her pussy. I lost myself in between her pussy lips, using my tongue as a battering ram as I tried to stick my tongue as deep as I could into her gooey cunt. Abigail squirmed her hips and put her hand on my forehead to push me back a few inches. "Easy, boy. Just concentrate on my clit" she said softly. I wasn't sorry, because by now my tongue had started to ache. (When I think back on my first attempt to eat pussy, it just cracks me up.) Abigail had a nice-sized clit, about the size of a gourmet jellybean. I locked on to the little bud and started sucking and licking. The more I licked the more her hips started to move around. Her moans became longer and even a little louder. After a while she placed the palm of her hand on the back of my head and pushed my face hard down into her fleshy crotch. " That's it Wilson…. suck my clit…make me cum, little boy…make me cum on your face…Mmmmmmmm…yeeeessssss…suck my clit… Yeah… yeahh…. yeahhh…. like that…Mmmmmmmm." I put my arms up under her legs and lifted them onto my shoulders so that her cunt was pointing at the ceiling. Her pussy was on fire, so whatever it was I had been doing, it seemed that I had been doing it right. But I was in no hurry as yet. I was leaning right over her now, and moved both my hands up her belly until they reached her great, soft breasts. I took one in each hand and squeezed. Hearing a contented murmur, I squeezed again, harder this time, then moved my hands even higher, pushing the two great mounds up towards Abigail's face. Her nipples were long and stiff, and I pinched them between the thumb and a finger of each hand, rolling and pulling them while Abigail grunted out her pleasure. After kissing and tonguing her breasts and nipples, I moved my head and hands slowly down to her lap once more. And then I really went to work on her cunt, sucking, biting, licking. I wanted her to cumm. I wanted to know what it felt like to make a woman come. It wasn't long before I found out. "O….O…..O….my God, Wilson! I….I…. I'm cummminggggg….! Aggghhhhh…! Aggggghhhh…! Yes…yesss…. suck it …. Mmmmmm!" My mouth was suddenly filled with fresh pussy juice. I drank it down and tried to vacuum out even more. Pussy juice and saliva were smeared all over my face, making it all sticky and gooey. Abigail's pussy scent was everywhere. I would have continued sucking her clit if she hadn't pushed my head away. I still couldn't actually see her pussy, but I tried to imagine what it must look like now that I'd been licking it. I smiled to myself. This was the life! I put my hand back on her pussy and kneaded her pussy mound. Abigail said nothing, but her moaning told me I was doing ok. Her pussy felt real nice. The hairs around her lips were moist and slippery. I finger-fucked her a while with my right hand while stroking my cock with my left. I fantasized that my finger was actually my cock, pumping in and out of her slippery box. Here I was, masturbating again, but this time I had real experience to draw from. Abigail seemed real relaxed. I'd put my thumb on her clit and massage it, and every once in awhile I'd dip my finger in her slippery pussy just to hear her moan. Meanwhile I was jerking off, so wrapped up in what I was doing that I accidentally ( I think ) hit her thigh with my stiff cock. "Wilson, what's that you're doing, little boy? Are you thinking of sticking your cock in me," she said, giggling. There was no reason to lie, and I told her straight up, "No, Abigail, I was just jerking off. My cock's still hard, and your pussy feels so nice. I hope you don't mind. Abigail laughed. Then she said, "It's ok. But let me ask you a question. What are you think about while you're playing with my pussy and beating your meat?" "You want me to be honest, Abigail?" "Yes I do, Wilson. You must always be honest with me." I'd never been honest with a woman before. I always told lies if I felt uncomfortable or when my back was against a wall. But now I didn't hesitate to tell her the truth. "I was imagining what your pussy must look like… I was pretending that my finger was actually my cock going inside you… and trying to imagine how that would feel. " I paused for a second, realizing that this might be the closest I'd ever get to having pussy any time soon. Taking a deep breath, I said, "Abigail, would you let me put my cock inside your pussy? It would be just for a minute, I swear. I just want to know what it feels like. I've never had my cock inside a woman." "Mmm, I don't know, Wilson. We've already gone 'way too far. I'm too old for you. Do you really want me to be your first fuck? Wouldn't you rather do it with a girl your age first?" She didn't sound quite sure of herself. She'd been in charge and in control all night, and it was the first time I'd sensed any uncertainty in her. Though I couldn't see her face, I knew things had changed. "Abigail, you're NOT old. You're prettier and ten times sexier than any girl I know. I'd love for you to be my first woman. I'd treasure the memory forever. I just want a few pumps…. I swear, a few pumps and I'll take it out. Please, a few pumps is all I'm asking for." It was as if I was begging for my life. My cock was talking for me. All I wanted was a few pumps. A few pumps and I'd lose my unwanted virgin status. My hand was still massaging her pussy, and as I begged I could feel her oiling up. "Listen, Wilson. If I let you do it you have to promise not to tell anyone at all. And if I say stop, you've got to stop. Just a few pumps then, and that'll be it. God, if anybody knew what I was doing with you, little boy, I'd just die!" "OK, I swear. Just a few pumps and I'll stop, I promise." I was so freakin' excited, I thought my head was going to explode. I was about to get me some pussy! Abigail moved back on the couch and started to shift around. I had no idea what she was doing. Then I heard her whisper, "OK, I'm going to lie down, and you can get on top. But go easy, little boy. That's a big cock for a kid your age. Now come on, get on top of me." I jumped to my feet before she'd finished speaking. It was still very dark, and the darkness would deprive me of the sight of my cock entering its first pussy. I started to feel my way around. Abigail was lying on the couch, with her left leg high up on the back of her couch, making her wide open to me. It was the position she'd been in when I first spied on her asleep. I climbed on to the couch and positioned myself between her thighs. I was so excited that I almost slipped and fell on top of her. Abigail giggled at my attempts to mount her. The first time my cock brushed her pussy hair I thought I'd bust a nut. I was seconds away from losing my virginity. Abigail lifted her pelvis off the couch to make it easier for me. My first thrust was against her thigh, while my second hit her clit and went over her pussy, grazing her hairy mound. I was getting nervous. Where in hell was the entrance to her pussy? Then I felt her hand wrap around my shaft. "Take it easy, Wilson. Let me help you, honey." she said kindly. The hand drew my cock up to the pussy entrance. The sensation was electrifying. It seemed like I had waited my whole life for this moment. "There you go, honey. Now push slowly. Yeah, that's it. There you go, nice and easy. That's it……mmmmmmmmmm." Slowly, effortlessly my cock sank into her warm, loving cunt, plumbing the bottom of her pussy on its first thrust. Her vaginal walls seemed to suck my cock into her body, just as they had done earlier with my finger. I was about to pull back and make my first pump when Abigail said, "Don't move. Wait just a second so my pussy can adjust to your cock. OK….. OK. Now just a few pumps. That was the deal, remember." "Yes, Abigail, I hadn't forgotten. And thank you so much. Your pussy feels so good. Ten pumps and I'll stop." While I was speaking into her ear I could fell her pussy flexing around my cock. I pulled my 8 inches out until only the head was inside her. I was only going to get ten pumps, and I wanted them to last. I held my cock poised there for a few seconds, and then slowly entered a woman's cunt for the second time in my life. Abigail's meaty pussy lips provided the perfect landing pad. I took my sweet time with every stroke into her moist cunt. I wanted to savor every moment. Abigail moaned into my ear as I eased my cock deep into her sweet pussy. I desperately wanted to see her face. I could only imagine what she looked like with my cock buried deep in her body. Each stroke was the same, long and slow. I tried to concentrate and burn the thoughts of how my cock felt inside her. She put her hands on my hips and was pulling me into her. When I got to the eighth pump I began to feel depressed. Only 2 pumps left. I reached 10 and kept going. After all, she might not have been counting. I could maybe get 2 or 3 extra pumps in. "Hey, little boy, that was number 13," she said, giggling into my ear. "Oh, was it? I'm very sorry. I must have lost count," I said guiltily. I don't know why I lied. Of course, I'd known exactly what the count was. As soon as I said it I realized how stupid I had been. She had to know I was being dishonest. But her pussy had felt so fucking good. I just couldn't have stopped if she hadn't said something. "Its OK, Wilson, I don't mind. I was just kidding. It feels real nice. Keep going until I tell you to stop." "Gee thanks, Abigail!" Her words had lifted my spirits, sending a jolt through my entire body. "Mmmmm…yeah. That's it, Wilson. Does it feel good for you?" "Yes…. yes…yes... real good. My God, I never felt like this before." She whispered into my ear,"You're a nasty little boy. You like fucking old ladies, don'cha?" " Yes... Oh yeess….. Yes, I like it. " She moved her hands down to my ass and started pushing and pulling me into her body. She was in charge, and showing me how I ought to fuck her. "That's it, honey. Just a little faster… Mmmmmmmm…yeeeesss. Now fuck me little boy. Fuck this old pussy!" She started whispering all kinds of dirty things into my ear, and I pumped away with my cock just like she wanted me to. Her cunt was just oozing pussy juice. I could feel my balls beginning to tremble, and realized that I would cum soon. A part of me wanted to cum while another part of me wanted all this to last forever. "Oh God, Abigail, I think I'm going to cum," I whispered." "D'you want to cum, little boy? You want to cum in my old pussy?" "Oh yes, I do want to cuummm. It feels to good." "Then tell me you want to cum in my pussy. Say you want it. Mmmmmm….yeah, fuck me harder, little man. You want cum in me? THEN DO IT ……CUM…..CUM….CUM…CUM…CUM INSIDE ME LITTLE BOY!" she hissed." I closed my eyes and began humping and pumping her pussy with everything I had left. I had jerked off so many times imagining I was coming inside a woman's pussy, and now I really was. I made one last hard thrust, slamming my cock deep into Abigail's juicy pussy. It opened my floodgates. "O God. O god, I'm gonna cum. I….I…I'm gonna cum in your pussy. Yeeess! Oh Shit! Agggggh…! Agggh….! Aggghhhh….I'm cuuuummmming! Aggghhh." I spewed what felt like buckets of cum into Abigail's pulsating pussy. My whole body was shaking as I continued to drive my cum-spitting cock into her. Her experienced pussy walls gripped my cock and pulled me into her. "Yeah, baby. Yeah, that's it. Cum, baby…. cum in my pussy…. Mmmmm, you're such a nasty little boy. Give me all your nasty sperm." After 2 more pumps I collapsed, exhausted and shaking, on top of Abigail's body. She used her cunt muscles to soothe my deflating cock and put her right hand on the back of my head and stroked it. I felt so warm and comfortable lying between her thighs. A few seconds later my cock slipped out of her cum-soaked pussy, the cool air it met reminding me of the warm, moist place it had been only moments ago. "Thank you, Abigail. Thanks you so much. That was just incredible." "You're welcome, Wilson. You're a sweet boy…or should I say young man? After all, you're not a virgin anymore." We both started giggling. Oh, how I wanted to see her face. I knew she would be smiling. Secrets In The Dark "Look, Wilson, this is our little secret, OK? You'd probably like to tell all your friends, but you can't. This must stay our little secret in the dark. The End. Please send all of your comments.