Forced First

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Author's Note: As some of my readers have indicated, some of the stories I have posted are just that, stories. Some, however, are very true. I'll leave it up to the reader to decide which ones they think are based on fact, and which are based on fiction, although a careful reading should give hints to which is which.

To those whom would offer the criticism based upon race, motivation of the characters, or other opinions not related to the actual prose, keep them to yourself. It is those hateful comments that have kept me from continuing on.

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By now, Jewan and I were together almost constantly, although Summer was soon coming to an end, and I was due to move away to the dorm-life of college. I was going to live in the same state, but far enough away that commuting was impossible. In a way, I was very excited. A new world, new people, and the shedding of the protectiveness of my parents, especially my dad. Daddy always meant well for me, I knew that deep down in my heart, but at the time, it was almost oppressive. I was also moving away from Jewan, and while it would mean leaving his cock behind, it also meant the chance to meet others, perhaps, and to see what other people were like.

At the time, I didn't really understand it, but I had become an addict. I loved men, and more particularly, the feel of a man as he did what men do to women. In my case, I had experienced a few men by now, including that awful Mr. Davis. He was a brute of a man, and had come calling several times. Every time he used that same threat of extortion, to tell my parents about me and Jewan. The man was also depraved in his wants, some of which I gave into, and some I refused. But we can talk about that in another chapter. Right now, I should talk about what happened not long after Jewan had shared me with his cousin, the guy who weighted what felt like 1000 pounds, and damn near suffocated me in his pathetic attempt to have sex.

It was late afternoon, and I was over at Jewan's again. I had taken to going to his house more and more, as my Daddy came home from work early one day, and almost caught Jewan balls deep into me on the living room floor. So I thought it best to go to his house, even though it might be a little unsafer for me in some ways, but at the time I knew it was safer than my Daddy catching us. So I was at his house, wearing a thin nylon wrap dress, baby-pink, and with some low sandaled heels. I went bra-less, as I never could stand the way that the bra straps stuck out like sore thumbs, so my C-size breasts were only supported by how tight I wrapped and tied the fabric around me, which was pretty tight. The cut gave my cleavage a pretty deep exposure, and the curving hemline in the front gave rise to a view almost half-way up my thigh, even though the dress was knee-length. I had also worn panties again, even though Jewan disapproved, but after being scared by Daddy, I chose the safer clothing. Jewan was disappointed, and showed it by withholding his cock from me for about a week, but in the end, I think his lustful need took a greater share of his ego, and he let it go. I think part of it was that I also wear thin, lacey ones, and even have a few that are the French-over the hip cut.

I knocked on his door, and as I waited, it struck me odd that his parents were always coming and going at odd times, and they never seemed to be together for long. They never went to any of the neighbor's parties, and they never went to church, either. I shrugged it off as the door opened, and there was Jewan, looking at me with those deep brown eyes, and corn-rowed hair, looking sloppy in his oversized shirt and baggy shorts, and tennis shoes without socks. He let me in and closed the door, and immediately kissed me, and I felt that marvelous tingle of his lips on mine, as his tongue and mine began to swap spit and caress each other. My hands rose to his shoulders, and he began to slide me sideways, until my back was to the wall in front of the stairway leading upstairs, and I thought for certain he was going to take me to his room. We kissed and I felt his hands sliding up and down my body, and his fingers clutched at my breasts, palming and squeezing them, and my nipples grew hard, sticking out like little grapes into the nylon fabric covering them. We kissed longer and longer, coming up for air and then kissing some more. My hands slid down his dark skin, my French-manicured nails a wonderful contrast to his skin, which was really dark, like he was from Africa.

He continued to explore, or more accurately, re-acquaint, his fingers to my body, and I did nothing to dissuade him. I moaned softly and he grunted from time to time, and we continued to neck, making out right there in the foyer. Finally, after what seemed like hours, his hand began to play down my thigh to my crotch, and the overlapping fold of my dress. His fingers were rough, but gentle in their caress, and he would slide them up the inside of my thigh, and then down the front, only to repeat the oval, each time going higher and higher, until he was brushing my panties with the back of his fingers. Each time I felt his touch against my panties, I moaned, and let my pelvis thrust softly against it. I was getting hotter and hotter, and I knew my vagina was getting well-ready for his cock, just as soon as he would give it to me, which I hoped would be damn soon.

My own hands were not idle, and they also caressed and touched him, laying across the back of his neck, and caressing his head, and down his back, and to his butt, where I grabbed those hard cheeks and pulled him against me. I let a finger slide inside the waistband of his shorts, and slid it back and forth from the back and around to the front, and then back again, each time trying to make them go lower and lower, so they'd get out of the way.

"Yeah, baby..." he would softly tell me, "I knows you want it, and you can't get enough of me."

It was sort of our ritual, his telling me how needy I was for him, and my admitting he was right, usually with a soft moan. This time, I broke our kiss and spoke to him, in my soft tone, my eyes looking up at him. "yessss... I know it..." and then I grew more aggressive in my kiss as I attacked him with my lips. And while I did that, I also did something I had not done before, but it just sort of seemed natural to me. As I leaned back against the wall, his body against mine, I lifted my right leg, bending it at the knee, as high as I could. The hemline of my skirt fell to my waist as my knee rose above it, and my panties were made clear to Jewan, and the treasures I held under them. To his credit, he took my message, and my meaning, and in a matter of seconds, his shorts were being helped to the floor by his own hand, while mine was working on them, too. His cock sprang out as his shorts hit the floor, and he then grabbed over my knee with his hand, lifting my leg higher, and I felt him begin to thrust, a dry hump that made me moan. I have no doubt that there was a soaked spot making the white lace of my panties darker, and the fact that his cock was pressing on them made them darker still. At one point, he even tried to hold his cock at my entry, and push through them, but the elastic only stretched, and the lace held firm, barring his entry. This time.

Our passion and focus was so great, that I didn't hear the footsteps up the front walk, and when the door opened, I almost screamed. Jewan, for a moment, held me in a harder grip, his pelvis thrust against mine, and my knee still held against my chest, exposing my panties to the new arrival, who was an older black man. In fact, as I would soon discover, my vagina was being introduced to Jewan's father. And it was very odd, after a moment, that Jewan relaxed his grip on me, and stood away, letting my leg back down, and my dress to fall back into a more respectable way, but he stood there before his dad, his boner proud and erect, his shirt sort of draping over it.

"Well, boy..." his deep voice began. "What do we have here?" his father asked.

I took a flustered few seconds to try and brush my dress down, and not to look as flushed as I did. And as I did so, Jewan introduced me, and told him my name. I felt the man's eyes on me as I was introduced, and I could only stammer my own greeting.

"P-please to meet you..." and suddenly I was stumped. I knew Jewan had a unique last name, one I had heard a few times, but I couldn't pronounce. It seemed that no one in the neighborhood could, either. So I settled for the non-committal "Sir."

The man was nice enough, and then he turned his attention to Jewan, whose manhood was resuming his relaxed posture, while he bent down to pick up his shorts. His father spoke to him, again in that deep baritone that must be hereditary.

"Boy, your mother's car broke down. She's over at the mall, somewhere, go get her and see if you can make her car run."

I looked at Jewan, and his face fell flat. I immediately understood that Jewan wasn't going to get any today, and for that matter, neither was I. My heart was still racing a bit, and my nipples were doing their best to try and poke through the thin and compliant fabric of my dress, and I could only stand by while there was a brief debate between Jewan and his father. I won't bore you with the details, but if you are a parent, you can pretty much surmise how it went.

So Jewan went to the kitchen and got his car key, and then started to escort me out, when his father held out his hand. "Hold on, Jewan. I want to talk to her for a minute. You go on along and get your mama." This didn't seem to be an out of the ordinary thing to Jewan, as he merely shrugged and said "See ya'." and left, closing the door behind him. That left me alone with his dad, and considerably uncomfortable. Jewan had been gone only seconds, before his father turned and locked the door.

"Come on in." Jewan's dad bade me, and led me into the living room of the house, which by now had looked a lot nicer than my first visit. Decorations hung on the walls, and things were relatively neat and orderly, including that same couch where I had gotten my ass reamed. I had entered the room, and his dad stopped and turned, facing me, no more than two feet from me. He drew a grin, and again looked me up and down, and I gulped nervously. Out of habit, I had clasped my hands behind my back, something I had picked up from my father, ironically, as he said that my body language would show others I wasn't afraid, even if "I felt like shitting my pants." This had the effect of pulling my shoulders back, and thrusting my chest forward, placing a small further strain on my dress. My nipples were pushing so hard against the fabric that I might as well have hung a sign on them that said "come lick me!"

Jewan's dad, whom I'll call Duane, reached out with his fingers, and lightly brushed them down my arm, speaking as he did so.

"Relax, Jewan and his mother will be gone for over an hour."

I stammered on my own reply "B-but.. but I-I'm sure I should go home soon."

Duane merely shook his head, and let his hand continue down my arm, to my waist. "I don't know what you're afraid of, girl. I already seen all you got to offer, and you got plenty." With a flick of his wrist, his fingers grasped the string tying my dress closed, and gave it a sharp yank, and as the bow came undone, so did my dress, falling apart and baring me to him, exposing my breasts and my panties, and everything else.

Out of reaction, I let my hands go, and parted my arms, more than shoulder-width apart, so that my dress would not simply fall off wrap to my wrists. Duane took a few moments to admire my curves, and then he lowered his head to mine, and I felt his own lips kiss me. I kissed him back, a long, passionate wrestling of our tongues. The silence in the room was deafening, as there was no radio or TV on, only the sound of our kiss and the hammering of my own heart. He broke the kiss with a toothy grin, and I felt his fingers caress my nipple, unresisted, as I could only stand there, completely dumbfounded. I winced when he gave it a severe pinch, and I yelped softly. His free hand slid down my belly, and dug into my panties, again, with my hands held back and apart, my dress barely on my shoulders, but fully opened to him.

His thick, black fingers kept at my nipple, while his other hand began to delve into my pubic hair inside my panties, and I could only arch my back slightly, my voice grunting softly as the man molested me. Further and further he pushed and probed, until he had hit pay-dirt, and began to pinch my clit, his hand fully inside my panties as the elastic stretch to accommodate his grope. I was trying to balance on my heels as he was becoming rough with my nipple and my clit, pinching it and sending a burning pleasure through me, and my lips parted, my chest rising as I took in a loud gasp.

Part of my mind screamed. My head was ringing with the echoes of my voice. I was being molested. I was being raped, I was going to be fucked, Jewan would be angry! Would Jewan be angry? What if my father found out? Should I resist? How do I resist? Would he hit me? What was happing to me?

All the while my mind was racing, so was Duane's heart, evidently, because soon I looked down and could see an obvious tent in his pants. I felt my nipple begin released, and Duane used that hand to undo his pants, stepping out of them, and his boxer shorts, letting his black rod loose on an unsuspecting woman. Well, not unsuspecting, I knew what was going to happen now. I just didn't know the consequences. At a glance, I knew where Jewan got his endowment from. Duane was bigger, not so much in girth, but by a couple of inches in length. As my eyes looked down, Duane began to tug at my panties, first trying to rip them from my waist, and failing that, he jerked them down, and in doing so, his hand cupped my vagina and he squeezed, really hard. I couldn't help but cry out and reach with my hands to try and get him to let go, and as I bent over, he used his free hand to push me over, and I fell on my back, smacking my head on the carpeted floor, and just as when Jewan had taken my virginity, I was stunned and dazed.

I perceived, rather than felt, Duane take my legs and lifting them onto his shoulders, and I perceived, rather than felt, his leaning forward, bending my body almost in half, but there was no mistaking the feeling as he pushed his hips forward, and his cock-head pushed to my folds, and then pressed harder, until they parted ways, and let his shaft penetrate me. I arched my back as he pushed and pushed, seeming to take forever to push his inches and inches into me, until he bottomed out, and I winced with a yelp.

Duane didn't even have the decency to pause long enough to let my vagina adjust to him, and he began thrusting immediately, long, hard, and fast thrusts, not the slow and passionate love that Jewan would make to me. In a way, it felt more like Mr. Davis, although, somehow, I knew this wasn't going to be done in two minutes. I felt his relentless thrusting into me, several times his thrusts were particularly hard and deep, and in these I cried out in pain, my cervix still a virgin, as it were, and the battering it was taking hurt a lot. My voice could only gasp and cry while Duane became most intimate with his knowledge of my body, and I became fully aware of what was happing to me shortly after he invaded my body. My eyes were wide open, and searching the room, anything to avoid the deep and penetrating stare Duane had, while his hands gripped my wrists, and he held me firmly to the floor, and he kept thrusting his cock, more and more, harder and harder, it seemed, until he would push through my cervix, and into my womb.

His own voice was nothing but the masculine grunts and moans of pleasure, as my body did what a woman does to a man, and my tunnel began to squeeze on him, until he suddenly spasmodically thrust into me, his back arched like a wolf baying at the moon, and he ejaculated into me. I can only say that the man had enormous balls, and the amount of semen he flooded me with was more than I had ever seen before. When I got home later, my thighs were smeared almost to my knees with his leakage, let alone what he had seeded deep into me.

By now, I was so exhausted, I was laying there limply, as he left his cock to soften in me, and he leaned down to kiss me. I tried to speak at first, my words cut off by his lips, and after the kiss, I looked him straight into his eyes. "I am not protected, you know."

His eyes got vacant for a moment, and then, saying nothing, he lifted himself off of me, and simply left me there, climbing the stairs. I took this as my cue, and made my way presentable as fast as I could, and almost ran home, tears streaking. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I knew it. I was pregnant.