Dangerous Desires (10 page)

“How long have you been sucking Ian off?” she asked the gasping girl.

“Several years,” she replied.

“How did it start?”

“One summer, in the garden. I was sunbathing in my bikini with Louise and her father kept looking at me. Louise went to her room to get something and he asked whether he could feel my breasts.”

“Did he ask you to shave?”

“He shaves me when Louise and her mother are out. I go to the house and we have sex.”

“What does he like doing to you?”

“Everything. He licks my bottom. He likes licking my bottom.”

“Have you had sex with Louise before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Do you like her licking you now?”

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“Yes.”

Shaking her head as she again thought about the incredible power she had, Annabelle listened to Louise’s tongue slurping between her young friend’s swollen vaginal lips. It would be interesting to initiate the girls into lesbian anal sex, she mused, her own juices of desire seeping between the puffy lips of her vagina. Anal licking, fingering, fisting ... Ordering the girls to strip, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a tub of butter from the fridge. This was neither ethical nor normal, she reflected, returning to the lounge. To have the girl’s fisting each other’s anal canals was perverted in the extreme, but her mind was becoming riddled with crude thoughts.

Gazing at Alison’s naked body, Annabelle felt a quiver run though her young womb. The girl’s breasts were barely developed, her figure almost boyish, and she began to wonder how old she was. She’d assumed that she was the same age as Louise, thinking them to be college friends.

But, judging by the girl’s small breasts, her puffy nipples, she thought her to be considerably younger. With her vulval flesh shaved, she could have been ... Trying not to think about it, Annabelle squeezed Alison’s petite breasts. Her mammary spheres were extremely hard, her nipples elongated, suckable. Running her fingertip up and down the wet valley of her hairless pussy, she felt her stomach somersault as she imagined licking the girl there.

Instructing Louise to position herself on all fours in the centre of the room, she ordered Alison to part the girl’s buttocks and lick the brown ring of her tight anus. Settling beside her young victims, she watched Louise’s wet tongue running over the delicate brown tissue of her friend’s anal eye, her saliva running down her bottom crease to the valley of her pussy.

Annabelle had no idea where her debased thoughts were coming from as she again listened to the 80

girl’s slurping tongue. Never before had she dreamed of using and abusing young girls’ naked bodies, but now she was picturing the most crude lesbian acts imaginable.

“You’re going to push your fist into her bottom,” she ordered Alison. “Push your fingers into the butter and grease her bottom-hole.” Complying, the girl smeared a good helping of butter between Louise’s firm buttocks as Annabelle held her anal orbs apart. Smearing the butter over the brown tissue of her anus, Alison pushed two fingers into her friend’s tight anal tube.

Suddenly feeling incredibly guilty as the girl managed to force four fingers into Louise’s anal canal, Annabelle wondered what on earth she’d become.

From an unhappily married woman with no sex life to a bisexual whore, her transformation was amazing. But was this what she wanted? she wondered, frowning as Alison sank half her fist into the teenager’s bloating rectal cavern. She’d thought of striking up a relationship with Dave, enjoying evenings out followed by straight sex, but had never envisaged using and abusing teenage girls. Again, she wondered whether this was her darker side emerging or the influence of the entity.

“No,” Louise gasped as Alison’s fist sank into her anal cavern. The girl’s tight brown ring hugging her wrist, Alison looked at Annabelle as if awaiting her next instruction. Grinning, Annabelle moved forward and sucked the ripe nipple of Alison’s petite breast into her wet mouth and sank her teeth into the sensitive protrusion. Reaching between the girl’s parted thighs, she slipped two fingers into the hugging sheath of her vagina and massaged her inner flesh.

Caressing the solid nub of her erect clitoris with her free hand, she listened to the girl’s gasps and whimpers of pleasure.

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“Fist her arse,” she said, finger-fucking Alison’s spasming vaginal duct and massaging her solid clitoris faster. “Piston her arse with your fist.” Chuckling wickedly, Annabelle focused on Louise’s anal ring, the brown tissue rolling back and forth along Alison’s pistoning wrist.

This was debased sex in the extreme, she mused, forcing more fingers into the hot duct of Alison’s tight cunt. The girl’s sex juices squelching loudly as she pistoned her hugging sheath, Annabelle knew that she was about to come. Her clitoris pulsating, the girl let out whimpers of satisfaction as her orgasm exploded and shook her naked body.

“Good girl,” Annabelle breathed, sustaining her climax with her vaginal thrusting and clitoral massaging. Letting out cries of pure sexual bliss as she rode the crest of her girl-induced orgasm, Alison continued to fist Louise’s tight anal duct. The room darkening, Annabelle looked about her. An icy-cold draught whipping around her, she heard distance laughter. The entity was there, she knew as Alison withdrew her fist from Louise’s anal canal. Slipping her fingers out of Alison’s vagina, she sat back on her heels and frowned.

“What are you doing?” she asked Alison as the girl positioned herself on all fours and projected the orbs of her naked bottom. The girl’s buttocks parting wide, Annabelle watched in amazement as her anal iris opened to at least two inches in diameter. Annabelle realized that the entity was forcing its invisible penis into the girl’s rectal duct as she let out a scream. Her anal tissue repeatedly sucked into her rectum and pushed out as the unseen penis shafted her, she shook violently as the entity fucked her.

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“No,” Annabelle breathed fearfully as she felt a cold hand groping between her thighs.

Unable to control her movements, she lay on her back, her limbs spread as the hand yanked her skirt up and parted the fleshy swell of her pussy lips. “Please, no,” she whimpered as another invisible penis drove deep into the hot sheath of her tight pussy. The laughter growing louder, her lower stomach rising and falling, she dug her fingernails into the carpet as the ghostly fucking rocked her young body.

Annabelle stared wide eyed at Louise gaping pussy crack as the teenager placed her knees either side of her head and lowered her naked body. Spluttering as the girl pressed her swollen vaginal lips over her face, her copious sex juices filling her mouth, Annabelle heard Alison scream out in her enforced anal fucking. Spluttering on Louise’s lubricious vaginal juices as the girl rocked her hips, Annabelle wished that she’d never involved herself with the unknown. But it was too late now, she knew as her inflamed vagina filled with icy-cold sperm.

The blend of girl-juice and male cream spurting from her open sex hole and splattering her parted thighs, the shaft of the unseen massaging the solid nub of her clitoris, she knew that she was about to come.

The room becoming darker, Annabelle felt teeth sinking into the brown discs of her areolae as freezing fingers drove deep into the tight sheath of her hot rectum. Gasping for breath as Alison ground her dripping cunt flesh hard against her mouth, she felt her own clitoris pulsating in the beginning of her orgasm. Desperately trying to hold back, Annabelle dreaded the thought of a ghost taking her to a massive climax. This was dangerous, unnatural, frightening ...

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Her pleasure exploding within the palpitating bud of her clitoris, her young body shook violently as unseen fingers pistoned her anal canal and the cold penis shafted her inflamed cunt.

Her young womb rhythmically contracting, her vaginal muscles spasming, she shuddered as she drank the issuing orgasmic juices from Alison’s rubicund vaginal hole. The girl’s copious flow of cunt-milk flooding her flushed face, matting long black hair, Annabelle grimaced as more fingers entered the tight sheath of her rectum.

“No more,” she finally managed to breathe as Alison moved to one side and collapsed to the floor. The teeth sinking harder into her erect nipples, her vagina painfully bloated by the invisible penis, she’d never known such incredible fear and pleasure. Wondering where this would lead to as the penis finally slipped out of her spunk-flooded pussy and the fingers left her anal canal, she lay quivering in the aftermath of her massive climax. Her nipples slipping out of the cold mouths, she rolled onto her side, shaking violently as the other girls recovered from their orgasms.

This could only lead to evil, she decided. This
had
lead to evil. The entity, whatever it was, might take a hold and use and abuse Annabelle and her friends without the aid of the black cloth and symbols. Reckoning that the time had come to stop her dabbling with the unknown, she ordered the girls to dress as she clambered to her feet and adjusted her skirt. Plonking herself on the sofa, she decided to keep the cloth and symbols in the garden shed until Dave returned them to his friend. The author of the book should be told of the danger involved in the ritual, she reflected, watching the teenage girls veiling their beautiful young bodies with their clothes.

Instructing them to leave once they were dressed, Annabelle waited until she heard the front door close before climbing the stairs to the bathroom.

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Stepping into the shower, she washed the sperm and girl-cum from her curvaceous young body. Shampooing her long black hair, she thought she heard the sound of laughter beneath the noise of the shower. The entity wasn’t still there, she was sure. Without the cloth and symbols, there was no way the unseen force could come through. Was there?

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he cloth and symbols in the shed, the letter to the author of the ritual book posted, T Annabelle had spent four days concentrated on finding a job. She was either too young, lacked experience, or didn’t have the necessary qualifications, which left her feeling despondent. She was going to have to earn some money before long, she mused, opening the post to find her solicitor’s bill for her divorce.

Slipping into her dressing gown after taking a shower, she wondered how much warmer the weather was going to become as she stepped out into her secluded patio with coffee and toast. It was only ten o’clock, and yet the sun was burning hot. Deciding to spend the day in the garden, she was pleased to have put the ritual behind her. The force hadn’t tried to get through, leaving her feeling safe in the knowledge that her episode of dabbling with the unknown hadn’t done any permanent damage.

The only lingering effect from the ritual was her insatiable thirst for sex, but she put that down to her bizarre sexual experiences rather than some unseen entity. Recalling licking Louise’s bottom-hole as she munched on her toast, she felt her young womb contract, her clitoris swell. Deciding to masturbate after breakfast, she smiled as she recalled Ian’s penis sticking through the hole in the bathroom wall. She’d heard nothing from the man or his daughter, and wondered what they’d thought of her wanton sexual exploits. Although she’d been tempted to ask Louise round for coffee, she’d decided against it. The girl was too young to be involved in 86

crude lesbian sex. As for her father ... What he did behind his wife’s back was his business, and Annabelle wanted no part of it.

“Hello,” she breathed, answering the phone in the kitchen.

“My name’s Roberts, Colin Roberts” a deep male voice said. “You wrote to me about the book. My publisher faxed your letter to me.”

“Oh, er ... Yes, that’s right.”

“I can’t quite make out your signature. Is it Annabelle?”

“Yes, Annabelle.”

“From your letter, I gather that you’ve had some sort of frightening experience?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to say too much in my letter, but ... In your book you say that the ritual is quite safe.”

“Between you and me, Annabelle, the book is a work of fiction. There is no ritual as described ...”

“Fiction? But, it works. The ritual works.”

“I wrote the book simply to make some money. As it happens, I made next to nothing out of it.”

“So, it’s all lies?”

“Not lies, fiction. You probably think badly of me, but the idea was to get a name for myself and make some money. I was made redundant several years ago and ... I hoped to become a well-known author, and earn enough money to live a decent life.”

“The ritual works,” Annabelle persisted. “Fiction or not, the ritual works.”

“What do you mean, it works? What happened, exactly?”

“I set out a black cloth and the ivory symbols and ...”

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“What sort of symbols? All I said in the book was that ivory symbols depicting the afterlife are used and ...”

“A friend lent me the book and the symbols. The symbols aren’t anything in particular.

They’re just strange shapes carved out of ivory.”

“OK, so what happened?”

“I have power over people. When I use the cloth and symbols, I have power over people.

I know that it sounds ridiculous, but an entity came and ... and had sex with me.”

“Sex? You’ve been watching too much television.”

“No, no ...”

“Look, I’m not too far from you. How would you like me to come and see you? We’ll talk about this over a coffee.”

“Yes, yes all right. It works, Mr Roberts.”

“Call me Colin. OK, I’ll be with you in an hour or so.”

“Yes, I’ll be here.”

Returning to the patio and finishing her coffee, Annabelle couldn’t believe that the book was a work of fiction. She’d hoped that the author would have given her some answers, helped her to understand what it was she was dabbling with. “Fiction?” she breathed, wondering whether he was lying. Why bother to go and see her if the book was simply fiction? Unless he was worried, she reflected. He’d only be worried if the book was genuine and he knew damned well that the ritual worked.