Liylas Spiral From Grace Ch 01

Overview: Well, each chapter is dedicated to a different type of eroticism. The only ones I won't be covering are: Pedophilia, bondage, and (possibly) rape. And maybe sex toys. The story is sparse, but it has a more meaningful effect on the sex scenes. EACH CHAPTER HAS A BRIEF SUMMARY OF ITS SEXUAL CONTENT and helpful tips on how to avoid the storyline and SKIP STRAIGHT TO THE SEX. The story isn't looking for patrons. If a reader can take only one chapter at random and enjoy the read, then the story is successful. Can't ask for much more. The story's chapters are kept to a minimum. Nothing over 3,000 words, preferably 2,500 words. Leave some constructive abuse or gushing praise, and support the continuance of my improvement in writing erotic stories. Don't worry about missing anything. Every chapter has a re-cap of highlights from previous chapters!

I hope you enjoy the read.

Sincerely awesome,

The_Moon_Gardens

Chapter

One

Mother and the Newspaper Subscriptions Salesman

Summary: Liyla catches her mom in the act. [Voyeurism, Masturbation, Sex, Secret affair.] Let's not hide any secrets, here. Just scroll down until you start seeing suggestive actions or cussing if you just want the sex.

"It was amazing. I thought I'd never enjoy my first time, especially, since. Well.

You know

..."

Unfortunately, Liyla knew her best friend's situation all too well. But it seemed to her that almost

every

thing in Roman Catholicism seemed taboo. Of course, having sex was going to be a big deal when Shawna's mom found out. And Shawna's mom was

going to find out

. It was their last year, and then it was off to college together--- if Shawna screwed up

now

, then... Despite the feeling of defeat that overcame Liyla thinking about how much trouble Shawna was going to get into, she smiled weakly: "I'm happy for you, Shawna. I think, though, you should be more careful... Try not to do it in your own bedroom next time, okay?"

Shawna laughed. "Alright."

Liyla's weak smile melted. Shawna's boyfriend was a dream. The artist type. Quiet, mysterious. Anything that two plain girls like her and Shawna could want. She wanted to ask Shawna about more details, but she worriedly looked at her cell phone clock instead: "Oh, crap. I have to get home. My mom'll kill me."

"God, can't you just stay out a

little

more? It's only six."

"Come on, remember what happened yesterday? I don't want her chewing me out again. I don't understand how she equates being late to how much I weigh, but whatever. She thinks I'm anorexic, Shawna."

Shawna laughed her daring laugh.

Liyla picked up her backpack: "Maybe I'll gain more when I start learning how eat everything my boyfriend buys me. Like you."

"Hey," Shawna called after Liyla laughing.

Liyla walked home and thought of Shawna's boyfriend. She had seen him once or twice with Shawna. And another time, he recognized Liyla and approached her at the mall while she was shopping for a new pair of shoes. His smile was slow and pretty. He was completely drenched in sex from head to toe, too. He even had those 'bedroom eyes' that songs talked about so much. Liyla sighed. It's not like anything good would come from wishful thinking. She had to focus on school.

Unlocking the door, Liyla stepped in cautiously. Her mother could come out at any given moment and remind her she's fifteen minutes late. Liyla looked at her cell phone. Never mind, she was fifteen minutes early. She closed the door behind her. The whole place screamed eeriness. It was shrouded in the blueness of the evening moon. She poked her head in all the rooms except the one at the end of the hall. No one seemed to be home. She didn't call out her mother's name, because she knew her mom was still ticked from yesterday. "Shawna's a bad influence, blah blah blah."; "You should gain more weight, blah blah blah."; "You think you're already grown up? Wait 'til you're out on the street. Blah blah blah." Liyla cringed. Her mom was fantastically dull. Corporate and conservative, churchy and preachy. She needs more...

dimension

. Like fine art. Like great writing. Like riveting music. She's just a complete workaholic robot. Except whenever Anthony's home, but whatever.

After Liyla was satisfied with her mental bash fest, she decided to make the most of her time. As she was about to head into her room, she paused. What was she hearing? It sounded like the distant raking of leaves outside, until she thought better of herself and decided to head toward the end of the hall. She pressed her ear up against the door.

What? Wait... this can't be

, Liyla thought to herself. Maybe she'd been watching too many movies lately, and listening to Shawna's sexual story much too intently. This

couldn't

be... Dad no longer lived at home. And even then, she'd never seen her mother and father actually

do

it...

Liyla pressed her ear against the door, and it opened slightly. Her skin jumped. What initially sounded like muffled raking of leaves, was actually sharp panting, and small "Oh's". A creaking of a bed.

Liyla saw through the crack in the door her mom, with fantastic legs still in their thigh-highs and an undone brassier. Her auburn hair was out of its tight bun and splayed everywhere. Her mom wore

brassieres

? And who was that? Was that their neighbor? Oh, God,

no

, he was the clean-cut newspaper subscriptions guy who kept coming around! No mistaking the same goofy hat she saw on the floor next to the bed.

Liyla instinctively covered her hand over her own mouth and watched with wide eyes. She had caught the pre-show.

"Oh,

God

," Mrs. Taylor moaned. The paper boy laughed and slid his tongue over her cheek, lowering his head to lick his way down her neck and suckle on one of her beautiful nipples-- dark, erect and prominent. His left hand was busily sliding down her torso.

"Ansel, you know we shouldn't keep doing this..."

"Keep doing what," he said, nearly out of breath.

"

This

--- oh, God," Ansel had interrupted her plea with an exercising of his two fingers, rubbing her clit lovingly, but hard. "Ansel, God, put them in---" he did as she told him to, feeling her lumpy, fleshy, hot and wet hole, pushing her lacy thong out of the way to insert his fingers deeper. In a throbbing fit, Mrs. Taylor threw her arms around his neck. He laughed into her breast, simultaneously plunging his fingers in and out of her. She humped his hand and ground herself up against it.

Liyla was slowly and instinctively sliding her own hand down her blouse. It slithered under her skirt, feeling the fabric of her panties. She watched. Her whole body had a mind of its own. The hallway was dark, luckily. Mrs. Taylor was too impassioned to notice that her daughter was rubbing herself, watching the paper boy smooth her down.

"Mrs. Taylor--- do you want me to?"

"Want you to what...?"

"Go down on you."

"

Ansel

, why, you know that's unacc--- uhn... mmmn..."

Even without actual permission, he slipped his fingers out of her wet hole. He nearly

shoved

them into Mrs. Taylor's mouth. She sucked on his fingers submissively, quaking while she was at it. Her eyes had just barely begun to close when he grabbed her whole body and pushed her cunt into his mouth. He seemed to swallow it, bravely thrusting his tongue into her. She whimpered a painful cry. He ate her up. He ate her so hard, that the sucking noises were audible. Mrs. Taylor wriggled out of control, half of her body spilling over the edge of her bed. The whites of her eyes were visible. The pupils were rolled back in ecstasy. She moaned like a dying cat. Ansel used his teeth. Her pelvis jerked in his mouth, and rolled up and down like waves. He grabbed her hips and pulled her back onto the bed, sliding his hands over her thighs, squeezing them as his teeth sunk into her like a succulent fruit. He grabbed her ankles and pulled them up over her head. He spread her ankles wide apart and dug in. Her head threw itself from side to side as she screamed. She laughed and cried at the same time. She was sweating as much as she would have been if she had been going into labor for the third time.

Liyla squeezed her eyes tight as she inserted her fingers into her own love hole like Ansel did to her mother. Her own lumpy insides, like clustered caviar, surprised her at first. But the tingling feeling overtook her and begged her to plunge her fingers in deeper. Her shapely pink nails raked at her insides. She shuddered in ecstasy, experiencing the exquisite pain of first time masturbation. Her knees spread and closed like a butterfly with the in and out strokes of her fingers.

Soon, Ansel undid his belt. Even with Mrs. Taylor's weak, delirious protests, he spread her ankles even farther apart. "A-ansel, we shouldn't-- uhn-mmm!!!" He probed her with his fully erect manhood. It was purple under the moonlight. He rubbed his tip against her glistening pussy.

Mrs. Taylor moaned uncontrollably, "Ansel, please..."

"Shut up," he said. Then he plowed into her.

Mrs. Taylor's head kept striking the headboard of the bed with each forward thrust. "O-ow... ohhhh...!!" She shrieked. With every recede of his crashing body, her upper body protested for release. She grabbed his arms and pressed her fingernails into his biceps. She seethed, and looked at him angrily: "God, fuck me harder--- HARDER, ANSEL, FUCKING GOD

DAMNIT

. YES. YES. YES."

He went harder, faster, causing her, even with her college and marriage experience, to bleed. She only screamed with more delight. A nice sheen ran down his shoulder blades and curved over his toned butt. The moon beams shooting through the master bedroom window made him look like a god. He was even-paced and kept his breath steady,

in and out, in and out, a quarter in, then out, then a full thrust in...

Liyla slowly closed the doors on her own mother's moans of delight. She was devastated, fascinated, enamored, trying to see the sticky spider web that stretched when her forefinger and middle finger spread like scissors. She couldn't handle it anymore. She went into her own bedroom and locked the door to finish off business.