Kill Your Family

I was walking peacefully when I saw you on the lawn. Your eyes were kind of vacant, your white dress was torn, but I didn’t notice that fact. You looked at me and said, “Fuck me.” Your legs were open and your plump inviting lips kept telling me, “Fuck me.” Asking me, “Why won’t you fuck me?”

I was but a child, a man-boy of fifteen and I hesitated before I took such a familiar pose as missionary with you.

Afterall, missionary, although underrated, is an excellent position for seeing your lover’s eyes and for feeling your lover’s sex. It is also the preferred position of perverted Uncles. They can silence family that way with a large rough hand over the tender lips & mouth, and at the same time let them see a loved one is doing this to them. Mostly by the eyes and nothing else, they are violating them, destroying their self esteem for years to come and telling them, “It’s ok. You’re beautiful.” Little does that small-pricked child molester know, their Niece will never feel this pretty again.

You took my cock in your hand and stroked it and repeated, “Fuck me!”

I did. Oh God I did! I was a machine built for loving you. This didn’t only feel perfect, it felt familiar, like we’d been here a thousand times yet each thrust was full of new life & each moan was a new tome of longing. Your moans turned to nothing after a few minutes. Your arms released my long hair. Your legs relaxed and you stopped kicking my ass & kidneys, like a cowgirl kicks her horse, but I kept going. The sky turned three colours during this time, orange, purple, & red. The orange was on top and had control of the other colours. The purple, thinking itself to be next in line for control, lay waiting in between, but noone paid any mind. The red was on bottom and started feeling the pressure of the other two colours and cried out, “You hurt me,” while tears ran down it’s red face. The other colours tried to plead with red, “But I’ve always been here baby,” said purple. “Are you kidding me? You like it like this. Me on top. You on bottom,” shouted the stern orange.

It had to have been about fifteen minutes before my mind snapped back into reality and away from the sunset. I was concentrating on my orgasm & your feigned slumber. Well at least I thought it was feigned. “I want you to cum on me. Please, cum on me?” I heard you say or I imagined you saying, but the voice was detached and far away.