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Cheerleader Pictures(m/f, nc, older teen) Chapter
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Cheerleader Picture [Mf nc older teen]
Chapter 8 - Halloween
Both Paul and Anne had been very careful to keep Anne's
"normal" life separate from her life with Paul. Just a
whisper of Anne's seeing an older man, older being anyone
out of High School, would bring way too much scrutiny from
Ann's father, and possibly the police. Paul did not want to
see that happen. And Anne, she would never be able to face
anyone ever again if the truth came out. So Anne lived two
lives.
But with a Halloween dance at Anne's school, Paul was
determined to go with her. With a costume on, no one would
know who he was, or his age.
Anne on the other hand felt depressed when Paul told her
that he would go with her. She did not understand why but
inside her, school had been her refuge from Paul and her
family. School was the one place where she could relax with
her friends and just have the worries and problems of every
other 17 year old girl. School was where the real Anne
lived.
But Paul didn't ask Anne if she wanted him to go. And Anne
didn't offer Paul her opinion - not on anything. So Anne was
going to the dance with Paul. She arrived Friday evening at
Paul's house as instructed.
Paul then laid out her costume for her. It was a bridal
gown. Anne was uneasy as soon as she saw the gown. This
wasn't right. Marriage was something very special to her.
Like most young girls, she knew that someday she would find
the right boy and they would get married. And that day would
forevermore be one of the most special days in her life.
Marriage was for love and caring and a lifetime commitment
with that one special boy. Anne's eyes started to mist over
as she thought of someday finding that boy and being happily
married. And then, with a word from Paul she was shaken out
of her daydream.
"Get dressed my little whore wife."
NO, no he couldn't drag this dream down into the gutter with
her. Not this. It would mean that when she really got
married, it would just be a reminder of one more sex game
Paul played with his little whore. He couldn't do this to
her. He couldn't destroy what would someday be the most
special day of her life. He just couldn't take that away
from her.
"Oh no Paul, please not that dress. I can't dress as a
bride, I just can't. Oh god, please don't make me do it."
And with that Anne threw herself at Paul's feet sobbing and
holding his feet and begging him to let her wear something
else.
Paul was totally taken aback by this. He had plans for later
in the evening that would make the dress appropriate. But he
had never expected this kind of relationship. Just the
thought of wearing it was devastating Anne. He really really
needed to take this into consideration.
Paul crouched down and pulled Anne up so she was kneeling
too, facing up to him. He had never seen a face so full of
anguish and despair. Anne was shivering with fear. So much
so that she would probably have fallen over if he hadn't
been holding her.
"Dear dear Anne" Paul said softly stroking her face. "Don't
you love me. Don't you love me more than anything?"
"Ye-yes Paul, I love you. Oh dear god I love you. But please
do---"
Paul put a finger on her lips and shushed her. Then he went
back to stroking her face. "And I love you my little piece
of fuck-meat. You're my sweet little whore. You're my
special little hot cunt."
And with each word Paul said Anne shook as though hit. Her
poor little mind didn't know how to take the loving words
that also called her a slut. The gentle hand stroking her
face as Paul continued to tell her how he loved to watch her
suck his cock and spread his cum all over her face. Her mind
wanted to both hold Paul for saying he loved her and run for
being called a slut.
Paul continued to talk to Anne watching her get wound up
tighter and tighter. "Such a beautiful little girl when you
lie back and masturbate while watching porno videos. I love
you so much when I see you dancing with other men jacking
their cocks off onto the front of your dress. Such a vision
of loveliness when you spread your legs under the table and
pull your pussy lips apart to show other men your cunt. I
dream of you every night, thinking of you at home, using
your vibrator on your clit, while your parents are sleeping
in the room next to yours."
And Anne got more and more confused. Paul was talking in the
gentle voice of a kind man who loved her. And he was telling
her that. But with each comment about the acts he made her
perform, she wanted to scream and run away. God, her shaking
was getting so bad she had to put both arms around Paul's
neck to not fall over.
Yes, she was a slut. But Paul loved her that way. It was ok
that she was a slut, no - no it wasn't. She wasn't really a
slut. She was a good girl. Yes, she really was - wasn't she.
But no, a good girl wouldn't do all those things. She was a
slut and Paul loved her anyways. Even with everything she
had done, he still loved her. But no, no, she---
And as Paul say her eyes go totally vacant and her shaking
become even more pronounced, he reached down to her clit and
started rubbing while whispering to her "whore, cunt, slut,
fuck-meat, cum for me you little slut - you know that's what
you want. Cum all over my fingers and show me what a whore
you are."
No, he couldn't be doing this to her. What kind of slut did
he think she was trying to get her to cum now. She wasn't a
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