Delectable Deviants

They were so close when they were younger, but the two girls had gone down very different paths within their teenage years.

She would arrive straight from Church and listen to her friend confess. The tales of being fucked, sin, of the men she’d taken. More recently she’s noticed scratch marks down her friend’s body, the marks of bruises - and in one instance, she’d arrived and a man’s cum was still sticky all over the girl’s breasts.

The tipping point was the time she’d arrived and her friend was still being fucked. The man was taking her roughly from behind, calling her all manner of names, spanking her, pulling her hair. 

She stood at the door and listened. Barely breathing. Shocked at first, until she realised how affected her breathing was, how wet she was making her knickers.

She ran home to confront what she’d heard, lay on her bed appalled - at first - then began thinking about everything she imagined was happening. She lay there and let her fingers smooth over her dress. Between her legs ever so slightly. And even though she knew she shouldn’t, she couldn’t not brush over the material ever so slightly. It sickened her. Such slight teases. Yet she couldn’t not.

She continued to visit her friend, yet the sinful girl’s tales had far more spice to them now - and even though she read portions from the bible to teach and absolve the harlot of her wrongdoings, she was being affected more and more by them. It got to the point where she couldn’t wait to go home and play. More fervently over her dress at first, then over her knickers .. and before long her underwear was off, dress lifted and she would fingerfuck thinking about being her friend, two fingers replacing the man’s hard cock.

One day she arrived and heard her friend being fucked again. This time the door was ajar a little, and she saw his throbbing cock ramming violently into her friend. She saw her friend blushing, reacting, screaming - and saw the girl cum, before dropping to her knees and wanking him off all over her face.

As the churchgoer watched, she couldn’t help but play. Over her dress yes, but she was transfixed. Seeing it within the immediate, being in her Sunday clothes and teasing herself as she watched such corruption. Moreover, she was a part of it, had been affected by it. 

But what made her desire amplify was the thought, the desire, to push the door open. For them to watch her masturbate as they fucked. to join in. For them both to use her, tease her, show her the way.

As the sensations became more intense, more sensitive, she knew she was going to cum. Should she stay and watch? should she run? or should she push the door open?

As her fingers became faster, her blushing deeper, breath more affected, she felt a rising within her .. but which option would she take?

(via picturemehere)