Cry Havoc

Chapter 6
Loudmouth

Chapter Description: from Book One: Domination

tuesday 19 september - 4:15 PM

Peter “Loudmouth” Kim threw the blonde-haired, physically-astonishing young lady to the surface of his double-sized bed and smiled wryly, an impenetrably enigmatic gaze obfuscating the intent behind his eyes. They glinted. With the dim lighting, with anticipation, with ulterior motives-- Shawna couldn’t tell. All she had concluded was that Peter was fit, stunningly handsome, and mysterious to the point of deliciously dangerous eroticism.

“You’re a fast mover,” Shawna commentated in a moderate voice. “What did you have in mind, stud?”

Loudmouth walked as a shadow, softly, quietly, encircling the perimeter of his bed, his eyes never leaving those of the increasingly-confused Shawna. Briefly did the girl wonder whether she had made a mistake in coming to this stranger’s home, however sexually evocative his ethos... but what danger could there be in broad daylight? And in a house that obviously didn’t belong to a high-school senior?

Loudmouth was nothing if not prescient; prior to school that day, he had bribed Jamie, his 17-year-old stepbrother, with a cool hundred bucks to use however the teen desired, promising an additional hundred if said “however the teen desired” transpired outside of their parents’ house. Jamie was a gadgets fiend and was only too eager to whore out his absence for the bills. So, for all intents and purposes, it was Loudmouth and Shawna, both marinating in anticipations of different flavors, both growing damp with excitement inside their jeans.

“Man of few words, aren’t you?”

Shawna let out a yelp of surprise when Loudmouth leapt atop her. Fiercely did the teenage boy grind his stiffening crotch into the jean-shorts of his squirming conquest. Mouths met mouths; tongues slid along tongues; sounds of lust and passion and needfulness hissed out from between Shawna’s lips as Loudmouth held down her arms and fondled her tender flesh until thin sheens of salty sweat began to condense upon the foreheads of the two lovers.

In seconds, both of them were nude-- Shawna’s perfectly-spherical twin orbs standing pert with engorged nipples at attention, Loudmouth’s eight inches of throbbing, dripping meat extruding from a pair of egg-sized balls at a 120-degree angle.

“You got any condoms, babe?” sighed Shawna, already on the precipice of orgasm by the mere sight of her gentleman caller’s Adonis-esque form.

Loudmouth said nothing. Instead, he descended upon his quarry’s torso, forgoing manual stimulation of her flawless breasts in favor of slathering them with his tongue. He lapped at them as though they were scoops of ice cream resting innocuously upon their cones. He swirled the tip of his tongue around Shawna’s areolas and used each opportunity to take her stiff, needy nipples into his mouth. He suckled them as would a baby from his mother. Then, his sucking became more insistent, and he peppered it with the occasional nibble, remaining entirely oblivious to Shawna’s occasional gasp or whine of surprise... and pain.

Concurrent to his oral ravaging of his acquisition’s chest was Loudmouth’s masturbation of himself. He required absolutely no assistance in remaining erect; on the contrary, his intuition told him that he’d likely be crippled by his erection if he didn’t empty his scrotum forthwith. To that end was he using his right fist to slather his aching cock with the pre-cum that pumped from his slit with alarming regularity. All-natural lubricant, increasing in volume with every sound the girl beneath him made as she writhed in a mind-rending dilemma of lust versus restraint. Ultimately, she resolved to confess the truth, no matter the extent to which it would ruin the mood. She didn’t spend $60 a month for a gym membership just to be manhandled in her off-time.

“I don’t want you fucking me without a condom,” Shawna declared. “Besides, it’s pretty obvious you couldn’t fit that steam pipe inside me, anyway.”

Loudmouth remained mute, but his eyes seemed to say “You’d be surprised.”

With that, he thrust all eight inches of his cock, greased up with his own pre-cum, into Shawna’s shaved pussy. He took no pleasure in the sound of her agony. He had long ago learned to tune it out. Besides, he knew that, after a few minutes of concerted, rhythmic thrusting, Shawna would forget all about that first moment of unpleasantness. Loudmouth fancied himself just that good.

But he wasn’t. And, with no one to hear whatever pleas she had on offer, and with a gymgoing punk a few years her senior holding her down as if Earth had just quadrupled its gravity, Shawna could do nothing but wait until Loudmouth reached his point of no return and saturated her insides with his seed.

All she could think about was that she’d never, ever bear the child of this, humanity’s greatest mistake.

Good fortune -- that is, about as much for which one could hope during such an ordeal -- at last reared its head. Loudmouth didn’t want a kid, either. And he definitely didn’t want to consider abortion; he believed it to be immoral. So, when he felt his balls boil and propel their delivery through the shaft of his penis, Loudmouth wrenched his tool from between Shawna’s legs and began roping her torso, her breasts, and even her face with steaming-hot ejaculate.

His load was massive enough to complement the length and girth of his cock and the resilience of a pair of overproductive testicles that just wouldn’t quit. By the time Loudmouth had emptied himself, Shawna looked as if she’d just tripped and fell onto the strips of Elmer’s glue lining an in-progress art project.

Loudmouth gasped, caught his breath, then used the pant cuff of Shawna’s jeans to clean off his dwindling clock and squeeze from it the last stray drops of his cum. The girl had begun to sob softly.

The boy, on the other hand, tossed Shawna the rest of her clothes and pointed to the door. If she was whorish enough to come home with just any old guy, then certainly she was slutty enough to walk home dripping with his stinking spunk.

As Shawna made quick, disbelieving steps towards the Kims’ front door, something caught her attention via the corner of her eye. It was a message, written in red, on a blue-trimmed whiteboard magnetized to an oversized fridge.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” it read, “or my friend will find out who you love. And I’ll find them.”

to be continued