Uncategorized

The Devil in Hannah Prynne

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bbw

This story is an entry in the Summer Lovin 2019 contest. Please vote. Thanks and enjoy!

No one has to tell me how badly I fucked up. On the second night home of my summer vacation from university, I go to a house party with my best friend in high school, Darby, get wasted, and throw up on my front yard where my mom finds me curled up asleep at 6:30 in the morning. Though I’m a nineteen year old woman, my parents pulled the, “Your mother and I are so disappointed in you, Hannah” and “you live in our house, you’ll abide by our rules.” So here I am, sitting on this hard-ass pew in New Hope Fellowship Church, paying for my partying ways.

For the past four Sundays, I’ve collected my grandmother from her house outside of our Podunk little town of Dillon Spurs, Texas at 9 am to take her to church services at this 90 year old white clapboard country church off Rural Route 22 in the middle of green rolling hills. I’m to do so until I return to college to start my sophomore year at the University of Texas in Austin. Dressed in a prim floral dress, my straight caramel colored hair parted down the middle and drawn back into a low ponytail, I count the minutes until I’m free from these boring sermons. My vibrating phone got my attention. Easing it from my purse and keeping low on my lap beneath the church flyer, I retrieved the text message. Derek Tennison! The guy who took my virginity.

Heard u were in town

N church TTYL

His response: three laughing crying emojis in a row.

A sinewy liver-spotted hand slapped mine. I looked up to see my grandmother’s priggish face glaring at me. I slipped the phone back into my purse and looked up to gaze at Pastor John lecturing from the pulpit. He’s a good minister; not a loud, Bible thumping hell and brimstone preacher full of fury. His sermons are of tolerance and kindness and the hope of self-betterment for his flock and the community.

Pastor John closed his binder and said, “And now a word from our young adults’ minister. Bryson.”

He stepped down from the pulpit to allow Bryson to step up. Bryson Gerlich. In school, he made it perfectly clear that he was intending to remain ‘pure’, a virgin until marriage. Shame. He has boy band good looks. Conservative styled chestnut hair, blue eyes, his lithe body is always dressed in perfectly ironed clothes. He is a hottie.

“Good morning, all,” he said with a sweet slow and measured Texas twang. “I want to let all of the young people know that your body is a temple and God wants you to treat it as such. It is the greatest gift not to be given lightly. Show reverence to it, save it for that one special true love. Don’t disgrace it with tight shirts and booty shirts.”

Like some others kids, I snickered, drawing my grandmother’s disapproving eye once more. My smile quickly dropped from my face and I looked down at my lap, trying hard to suppress the laughter bubbling inside.

He continued on about reverence and virginity and finished with, “So, live your life for God. He loves you. Thank you and have a blessed day.”

He stepped down allowing Pastor John to return.

“Thank you, Bryson. And remember, Bryson is always available for the young people to talk to on any subject and don’t forget to attend the young adult meetings on Thursday nights at 7 pm in the Elders’ Room. Blessings to you all and remember, do something nice for someone this week. But for the grace of God go you. Amen.”

“Amen.”

The organist started playing and I stood with the congregation to sing the last hymn of the morning services. Afterwards, we filed from the old country church, shaking the pastor’s hand as we left.

My grandmother smiled at Pastor John and said, “As always, I found your sermon inspirational.”

“I’m glad.” He turned to me and said, “It’s nice to see you, Hannah. You really should come to Bryson’s Thursday night session. It’s not just Bible study but a chance to really talk about the issues and temptations you young people face every day.”

“I’ll think about it.”

I can think of about a hundred other things I’d rather do.

I opened the passenger door of my mother’s Cadillac for my grandmother, closing it after she was seated, then climbed into the driver’s side to start the engine and drive off. Down the two lane country road we travelled, passing under heavy tree boughs and cow dotted pastures behind barb wire fences, to my grandmother’s farm. Five miles later, I turned onto the familiar red clay road leading to my grandmother’s house. Once she was on the porch, she waved at me before letting herself into her house. In the distance, I could see my grandfather on his tractor coming in from dropping off hay for cattle somewhere on the back acres. I stepped out the car to wave at him. He waved back, happy that I was home to relieve him of the duty of escorting his wife to church. It was only 11:30 and the day was already unbearably hot. I returned to the air conditioned car and pulled out my phone to text Derek.

He texted I wanna see u. meet me at the lake house

See you in an hour

Cool.

I started the car and casino siteleri drove off heading straight for Dillon Spurs’ only mall. Once there, I bought a pair of denim cut-off shorts and a white tank top. Stepping into a bathroom, I stripped off my dress, slipped into my country vixen clothes before releasing my hair from its hair clip. I flipped my head down and up several times until my hair fluffed over my shoulders. I applied more make-up on my eyes to bring out their slate color and applied soft pink gloss to my lips. When I finished, I stood before the mirror. Long tanned legs, short shorts, perky boobs, pink lips and tossed hair. I smiled and said, “Country girl realness is back.”

With my dress bundled in the shopping bag, I left the mall, calling my mom as I walked down an aisle of the busy parking lot.

“Mom, hi. I’m going to meet Kimber at the mall,” I said, referencing my high school friend that she likes. “We’re going to hang out, get a smoothie, you know, catch up and all. I’ll be home before dinner.”

“Okay, honey. Have fun.”

Out of the parking lot I drove, heading back to the countryside. After a fifteen minute drive down a country lane, I stopped at the gate blocking the road down to the Tennison’s lake property and got out to push open the unlocked cattle gate. Driving in, I closed it again before driving down the gravel road to Derek’s family’s place, a mobile home set beside a lake on ten acres of land. I parked beside Derek’s Jeep and got out of the car. I could see him sitting on their dock drinking a beer. Dressed in khaki board shorts and a tight navy blue t-shirt, he’s a big, corn fed dude with crewcut hair, steely grey eyes and lopsided smirk. Muscular from years of restocking feed at his father’s hardware and feed store, he was a linebacker on our high school’s football team. God, I remember how wide my legs had to stretch to accommodate his beefy body on mine when we had sex on a baseball diamond after a high school graduation party.

“Hey, Bubba,” I called out, easing my way down the dirt path leading to the dock.

He glanced back at me and smiled.

“Hey, slim,” he replied as I took a seat beside him to look out over the murky green lake.

“Want a beer?” he asked.

“Sure.”

He popped a can from the six pack and handed me the chilled can. I took it and popped it open to drink. It felt good to be out here in the quiet country. The droning buzz of cicadas and water slapping against the dock’s pilings broke the silence of the humid air.

“How’ve you been?” he asked. “How’s city life treating you?”

“Good. I love Austin. The nightlife is incredible. I thought you joined the Marines.”

“Next year. Dad needed help. He had back surgery so I’m working at the store fulltime.”

“Tough break.”

“Yeah. I’m taking a few classes at Kilgore in the fall.”

I nodded before sipping my beer. A dragonfly hovered a few feet in front of me before zipping off.

I said, “Guess who I saw today? Bryson.”

“Gerlich?”

“Yeah, in church.”

“When did you become a church girl?”

“Since I came home blasted one night and passed out on the lawn. My parents said it was either take grandma to church every Sunday or they were cutting off my money for school. I mean my scholarships, grants, and student loan covers tuition and books, but the bank of mommy and daddy covers everything else. I need my beer and weed money.”

He chuckled before sipping his beer.

I continued. “So, Bryson says my body is a temple. I think of it more as an amusement park.”

Derek laughed before crushing the empty beer can and dropping it on the dock. He stood and took my hand to haul me up. With that cockeyed smirk on his face, he pulled me close to his body.

He murmured, “I wanna go to Hannah-land.”

I giggled. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinding his hardening dick into me. “I want to ride the rides in your amusement park.”

He kissed my lips followed by another and another. I hadn’t had sex since a random drunken hook-up after a football game last October. I had concentrated on my grades in the spring semester to make up for the B’s and C’s I got in fall due to my partying. I was ready for a fucking.

Derek parted from me. Picking up the cans of beer by a plastic ring and taking my hand in his other, he led me off the deck and up the path to the mobile home. He opened the door. We entered the stifling warm house. It was clean and tidy, decorated with old colonial style furniture from generations of his family. He turned on a ceiling fan before setting down the beer. He turned and took me into his arms again and kissed me. I draped my arms over his hulking shoulders, parting my lips and mouth for our tongues to cuddle and twist against each other. When we were both hot and bothered, we parted to strip off our clothes. His dick hung heavy between those meaty thighs. We bypassed the couch as he pulled me down upon the old worn carpet where we continued to make out. Without warning, and with little effort, Derek flipped me over.

“Hey,” I said yüksek bahisli casinolar as he grabbed my wrists, pinned them at the small of my back and tied them together with an extension cord.

I said nothing as he tied a knot so tight that there was no way for me to wriggle free. I’d heard from my friend Alicia that he liked to do this during sex. When I was trussed up like a hogtied calf, he roughly parted my thighs. His stout fingers dug below my butt cheeks until he found my warm moist hole. He shoved in two fingers inside me. Then he curled them. The feeling was intense as he rubbed a secret G spot most guys know nothing about.

“Ohhhhh,” I cried as he jiggled them inside me.

“Yeah, girl, you like that, don’t you?”

He withdrew his fingers before placing his large hands on my back to steady himself. For minutes,he prodded my crack with his stiff dick until he found the entrance to my wet pussy. I moaned as he entered me. Its girth stretched my pussy walls as it inched ever further with each thrust. Then he began to fuck me hard.

My cheek scraped across the worn braided coil rug. The breath was knocked from me with audible ‘oomphs’ as he pressed the air from my lungs. My wrists strained against their bindings.

I had never been tied up and fucked like this before. Bondage turned me on. I wanted him to go as deep as his cock could go so I pooched my butt upwards to take him as far as he could go. He grunted, slapping his meaty pelvis against my butt cheeks causing my whole body to jiggle. I felt like I was being violated with a large cucumber.

“Ohhhhhh!” I groaned as his dick pushed into my tight pussy over and over again.

His heavy grunts hovered in the warm stale air. He laid on top of me, crushing me with his weight before his fingers burrowed beneath me to find my now slippery clit and I moaned in complete pleasure as he fingered it. His cock was as deep in me as it would go. For some weird reason, Bryson’s face popped into my head. He would think of me as wicked, screwing on a Sunday afternoon. The muscles in my loins began to quiver. My thighs clenched together. I heaved out breathy cry. My eyes squeezed shut as an orgasm rippled through my loins. Derek removed his fingers from my pulsing clit before fucking me fast until one last brutish thrust.

“Uuuh ohhhh!” he loudly groaned as he came and I felt the warm jizz seep between my pressed thighs.

After minutes of him heaving on top of me, his groin smothering my butt, he fell off me, rolling onto his back to lie beside me.

I flipped over onto my back breathing hard to catch my breath as the ceiling fan spun above me. Dribbling warm cum moistened my inner thighs.

Once he had cooled down, Derek sat up and asked, “Want a beer?”

“No thanks. I’ve got to get going.”

Derek hoisted his naked beefy body from the floor and grabbed a beer from the six pack. He opened it before sitting on the couch and swigged from the can before glancing down at me still bound and prone on the floor.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Please untie me.”

He swigged from the beer once more, wiping sweat from his brow. He looked at me and said, “You know what? I should keep you here as my sex slave. Fuck you in the ass.”

Panic crept into my mind. What if he tortures me and dumps my body in the lake?!

“Derek! This isn’t funny,” I said, rolling as I struggled to free myself from the restraints which only made them tighter.

He chuckled and, after shoveling his foot beneath me, he easily flipped me back over on my stomach and slapped my ass before placing his foot on my back to pin me down. He chuckled again before sipping more beer. I struggled as though my life depended on it.

I screamed, “Let me go! Let me go!!!”

“Okay, okay,” he said getting up to untie me. “I was only fucking with you.”

Once I was free, I sat up, reached for my shorts and slipped them on before standing to put on my bra and shirt. Sliding on my shoes, I turned to see Derek, still naked, guzzling beer on the couch.

“See you around,” he said.

“Yeah. See ya.”

That was too scary. We’ll never fuck again. Never. On the way home, I stopped at the gas station and changed into my church dress. True to my word, I was back in my suburban house at 4:45. I grabbed a Coke from the fridge and went out to the back deck to see my dad bar-b-quing at the grill. I kissed his cheek and hung out to talk with him before returning inside to help my mom. She had me take the dishes, napkins and cutlery to the patio table before letting me go to my room. I passed the family room where my little brother, Tanner was gaming on the flatscreen while my younger sister, Emily was preoccupied with her tablet. I walked down the hall to my room flopped onto my bed.

My mind went to Bryson. So hot but so pure. I wanted him. I wanted to teach him about women and what pleases us. I want to take his virginity. I bet I could. The thought turned me on.

When the sun began to set, I sat down at the back porch table for dinner mobil casino with my mom, dad, Emily and Tanner. In the light of a beautiful sunset, we passed dishes of mashed potatoes, salad, corn on the cob and plowed into the plates of bar-b-qued chicken and burgers.

After swallowing a bite of my cheeseburger, I looked up and said, “I’m thinking about going to Bible studies on Thursday nights.”

My parents slowed their chewing as they stared at me. They were both brought up going to church but their devotion had waned in the years. Not through lack of faith; they just preferred spending their down time lounging or getting ready for the work week now that my sister and brother were old enough to drive themselves to sports’ meets.

I added, “They have youth sessions and I’ll see some old friends from high school, eat some ice cream, you know, hang out with a good crowd of friends.”

“If you want,” mom answered. “But I’m checking up to make sure you go.”

“Okay.”

As we continued to eat, partaking in our usual family banter, I worked on a scheme to seduce Bryson Gerlich.

On the next Thursday eve, I prepared for my first church youth meeting. My hair was brushed back into a high ponytail where well-placed tendrils framed my face. Dressed in a sleeveless pink blouse tucked into a white mid-length cotton skirt and pink canvas flats, I was the picture of Christian modesty. Though I had on make-up, I looked fresh faced with pale matte pink lips and a light dusting of powder on my face. I dug in my nightstand to find the white leather bound Bible my grandmother gave me which was shamelessly tucked beside my vibrator. I shoved it (my Bible) in my purse, took a last look in the mirror and set out to church to play out my sinful plan.

There were five other people in the room; all girls. Obviously, I wasn’t the only one who found Bryson attractive. The difference is that they want to marry him. I just wanted to lead him into a world of sin and pleasure.

The topic was a woman’s role in this world. The topic alone rankled my feminist soul but I listened to the others state that a woman’s role is to have babies, submit to men, and serve God’s will. It took all of my self-control to sit demurely and not shout out, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Bryson turned to me and said, “You’ve been quiet, Hannah. What do you think? What’s a woman’s role in this world?”

“Well, for the first time in recorded history, we’re the first generation of women who truly have the choice to be and do what they want. Have a career, an education, get married or not, have children or not.”

The other girls looked at me as though I was an abomination.

“All I’m saying is that my mom raised me to be an independent woman and I believe that a woman’s role should be to be respectful of family, follow her passion, and whatever she does, be it mom or working woman, to do her best.”

To my surprise, Bryson said, “I agree. Motherhood is natural and noble but it’s not right for every woman. Women are free to be what they want to be. A man should support the woman and the woman support her man. They can find solace in each other. With mutual respect, trust and love, a woman will find her rightful role in this world.”

He followed his comments with some supporting scripture which I was surprised to hear. It was eight thirty when the meeting broke. The other girls and I helped Bryson put away the folding chairs and tidy up before sauntering to our cars in the parking lot. Bryson walked me to my car.

He asked, “So, what do you think about our little group?”

“Everyone was real nice. It’s nice to have support. The world can be so confusing,” I said with a sweet Southern lit.

“I’m glad you came. Will you be here next week?”

“Yeah, definitely,” I said with fake enthusiasm.

He took my hands. With his silly grin on his face, he looked like he was debating whether to kiss me or not.

“Well, thanks for joining us. See you Sunday,” he said, letting go of my hands.

“See you Sunday.”

The next Thursday morning, my sister and I went to the mall. When she was busy looking at t-shirts, I went to the jewelry counter and bought a gold plated cross pendant and chain for $24.99. That evening, I wore it to the youth meeting and when no one was looking, I took it off and dropped it beside my chair. The next day, I called Bryson.

“Did anyone find a cross pendant last night? I’ve lost mine.”

“Yes, the janitor turned one in. Want me to put it aside for you to pick up on Sunday?”

“No. If I’m not wearing it on Sunday, my grandmother will kill me. It’s been passed down in my family for years. Could you be a sweetheart and drop it off at my house? I live on Copper Creek Drive. Please?”

“Okay, I was heading out that way.”

I gave him the address, hung up and smiled. God, this was so easy. My parents were at still at work when Bryson arrived at my house. I was sunbathing in a tiny blue bikini out by the pool. My body was dewy with perspiration and I smelled of coconut oil. When the doorbell rang, I ran to the door as our family dog barked. I pulled Sampson back as I opened the door. Bryson’s eyes widened at the sight of me smiling at him dressed in twelve inches of fabric that covered my naughty bits. His eyes went up my legs to my tits until they finally settled upon my eyes. He actually began to blush.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32