Amy

Her hangover woke her out of a sound sleep. The sleep of the dead, she thought. Well, she certainly felt as if someone had tried to kill her. There seemed to be a battering ram working inside her skull that was nearly audible. And the taste in her mouth could only be described as carrion.

She was still in her clothes from the night before; short leather skirt and tube top (where where her panties?). She looked at the clock; 2:05. Her father would be leaving for work shortly, She couldn't remember what she had said to him last night but something told her that it couldn't have been good. If she could just lie here for a few minutes she wouldn't have to face him.

But her stomach was calling the shots and it was not pleased, demanding that she get to the bathroom and get there now.

She made it just in time and sat on the floor for several long minutes afterward, trying to convince her stomach that nothing remained. It refused to accept her pleading and continued to spasm painfully. 'Driving the porcelain bus'. Is what her friends called it. 'Praying to the porcelain god, Rowlf' Funny when it wasn't happening to you.

She heard her father banging on the bathroom door.

"Amy I have to leave in a few minutes and I need to talk to you before I go."

"OK, daddy I'll be out soon." she said just as another painful contraction hit her.

She stood up on shaky legs and drank a glass of water, looking at herself in the mirror. God, she was a mess. She washed her face and dragged a comb through her hair. It wasn't much of an improvement but it was going to have to do.

She removed her clothes from the previous night and tossed them in the laundry. She wrapped a robe around her and taking a deep breath walked unsteadily into the kitchen where her father sat staring at a cup of coffee.

"Sit down." Tim said starkly. She sat.

"Did you know I went to the doctor on Tues?" he began slowly, not looking at her. "He said my blood pressure was through the roof; that I was a good candidate for a heart attack or a stroke."

He looked at her then. His eyes were red. Had he been crying?

"He asked me if there was any undue stress in my life."

Looking back down at his coffee he continued. "Amy, I can't do this anymore, I can't take it. it's killing me. And I can't watch you ruin your life like this, out till all hours of the night, going who knows where with who knows who doing God knows what. It's driving me crazy. I can't take the fighting and the constant arguing."

What the hell happened last night, she thought.

"It seems we're at each other's throats all the time.

"But you're right about one thing; you're a grown woman now. You should be on your own." He took a deep breath.

"I want you to move out. I want you to get a job and get your own place, and if you continue to throw your life away, well, at least I won't have to watch. I'm giving you a month and then I want you gone."

"Daddy, I...I mean...can't we talk about this? I don't have..."

"This is not a discussion, Amy!" he said with real anger that set her back in her seat.

He got up and picked up his lunch and headed towards the door. He opened it and turned to her.

"You have one month. All I ask is that you please, behave in the meantime. I know you don't respect me, but for your mother's sake, please, just cool it till you have your own place and you're on your own. Then you can go wild for all I care."

He slammed the door. She heard the car start and ease out of the drive and through the window she watched it disappear down the street.

Jesus, she thought, her head pounding, what had happened last night?

She went back into the bathroom, dropped her robe on the floor, removed her panties and climbed into the shower, letting the hard stinging spray ease some of the effects of whatever it was she had done the night before. Slowly, like answers rising up inside the Magic 8-Ball, bits and pieces of the previous night's events began to appear in her brain, each one making her cringe.

Amy was 18, fresh out of high school, her future staring her in the face and scaring the hell out of her; not that she was going to admit it or let it change her, that's why God had invented clubs, hot young guys and pot. Young and pretty - hot, by any measure, even her own - she enjoyed the effect she had on the young men she met there. Most of them were so easy; a glimpse of cleavage here - and she had plenty - a flash of thigh there and they were soon panting like dogs, their cocks straining in their pants. In this condition she found she could get them to do anything she wanted.

The night before, after her father had gone to work, she had felt particularly restless. She smoked a joint and watched some TV. She turned on some music and, getting a bottle of bourbon from the liquor cabinet, poured a drink. And then another. She called her friend Leslie to see if she wanted to go to the club and then remembered she had gone away with her family for a week. She couldn't go by herself. What the hell, she thought, I'll just go out to Maxie's. She took a twenty out of her daddy's drawer and left.

Maxie's was a roadhouse out on 70, built by Roger and Maxine Meredith in the (then) rural New Jersey country-side. The clientele consisted of truckers - in for a quick beer, red-necks - loud and rude but basically harmless, college kids looking for pussy, and bikers - ditto.

It had been a slow night at Maxies. She had played pool with 3 boys from the college, usually taking the shot that required her to bend way over the table so that her short leather skirt rode up and they got a good look at her ass from behind and her breasts from in front. For this privilege they paid her in beer and shots and pizza.

She danced some slow dances with one and then another of them, letting them cup her bottom briefly before she returned their hands up to her back, enjoying the feeling of their erections pressing into her stomach.

About an hour and a half after first coming in she was flying high. Making a trip to the ladies' room on unsteady legs, she passed the biker at the end of the bar who gave her a look that chilled her.

He could have come directly from Central Casting; "Uh, we need a biker, leather vest, black jeans, boots, pony tail, ear-ring, wallet chained to his belt, etc. etc." But it was his eyes that broke through her drunken fog. Pale blue and cold they were the color of a high voltage spark, the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen on a man.

When she'd finished in the rest room she came out and stood next to him at the bar, swaying slightly.

"You're a hot little piece, aren't you." he said coldly.

"You'll never know how hot. Why don't you buy me a drink." she said with false bravado.

He stared for a long time, running the tip of his tongue over his lips, and then held up 2 fingers and Roger brought them Bourbon on the rocks.

"Got you're game all worked out, don't you. Slide on in, tease the little boys, get them all worked up so they buy your drinks, maybe grant them a quick feel for their trouble, then slip on out."

"Jealous?" She said, losing herself a bit in his eyes. It wasn't fair that God gave some men such long soft lashes, she thought.

"It's a dangerous game for a little cunt like you. Sooner or later somebody's gonna cash in on that little pussy of yours."

The college boys never talked to her like this. Even drunk as she was, she could feel the danger in him. It thrilled her. She drank the bourbon.

"You maybe?" She said, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. She hoped it made her look tough.

"Maybe." He replied and reaching out took hold of her breast, squeezing hard. She winced and pushed his hand away.

He pulled her to him, knocking her off balance. He held her tightly between his thighs and kissed her mouth hard. He tried to push his tongue into her mouth but she refused. He grabbed her jaw and forced her mouth open and his tongue entered. He tasted of cigarettes and Bourbon, smelled like gasoline and motor oil. She hesitated and then kissed him back, pressing her pelvis against his crotch. A small voice in her head asked; Amy, what the fuck are you doing. She had long ago learned how to ignore the voice.

His hand went into her tube top and cupped her breast pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers, sending electrical shocks directly to her pussy. She felt his cock responding and instinctively ground her hips against it, her body moving almost involuntarily.

But the situation seemed to be spinning out of control. She had always called the shots, using her sex to control the boys she met and the scenarios she created. But this was no boy. This was a man. A big man, over 6 feet and solidly built. He could probably break her in half if he chose to, and he was taking what he wanted from her and she seemed powerless to stop him, and not at all sure she wanted to.

Her head was spinning and time seemed to be all jumbled up, making little skips, dropping a few seconds here a few more there. Pieces of time showing up later in all the wrong places. Her ears were ringing. But yet, in her drunken state of mind she felt making him hard was re-exerting a measure of control. Still, her pussy was letting her know who was really really in charge here.

With one hand massaging her breast and the other sliding up beneath her skirt, she was beginning to heat up, tingling between her legs.

"Hey!" Roger called, "Take it outside."

She stood wobbly beside him as he pulled out his wallet and tossed 2 twenties on the bar.

"This cover it?" He asked. Roger nodded.

He dragged her outside and pushed her up against the wall. Holding both her hands high above her head he kissed her again and pressed himself against her grinding his hips, his cock a hard bulge rubbing against her belly.

A car's headlights pulling into the parking lot disturbed them and he took her by the wrist and dragged her around the corner into the dark. She stumbled and broke a heel and after walking peg legged for a few steps, kicked off her shoes. The gravel of the parking lot dug into the soft, tender soles of her bare feet.

"Get on your knees." He said, stopping to unzip his pants.

She fell to the ground and reached in to pull out his cock and, opening wide, put it in her mouth. Reaching back into his pants she withdrew his balls and cupped them in her hand. His cock wasn't huge, but it was thick and she imagined what it might feel like stretching her pussy wide. She wasn't a virgin, having lost her cherry while drunk and nearly unconscious and unable to feel much of anything. And so she'd convinced herself that it didn't really count. That the next thick...deeply veined...beautiful...impossibly hard...throbbing cock that entered her precious little pussy would be attached to someone she loved. Or at least someone she knew.

Her Conscious mind, what was left of it, knew she didn't want this stranger's dick inside her. But her pussy was betraying her, secreting copious amounts of the lubrication that would be required to service such a thick piece of meat and opening like a flower for him.

He grabbed her head and fucked her mouth savagely. She slipped a hand up beneath her skirt and vainly tried to quell the minor riot going on between her legs.

She heard his breathing becoming more ragged and his pumping cock growing harder. Although she was only one fuck past being a virgin, she had given enough blow-jobs and hand-jobs to know when a man was close to coming. His balls began to draw up, and she thought if she could bring him off he'd leave her alone. That's what she wanted. Right? She increased her efforts, sucking and pumping his swollen cock furiously. And just when she thought he was about to shoot his cum into her mouth he pulled out.

"Get up and turn around." He said breathlessly.

Amy did as she was told and he bent her over. She tilted her hips up and pushed her ass out. She hadn't been taken from behind before. And she realized that's what he was doing, taking her. Using her. She was meat, a receptacle. He lifted her skirt and she heard him rip her thong and it fell to the ground. With his knees he pushed her legs apart and grabbing her hips he lifted her up on her bare toes. He placed his cock between the damp lips of her pussy and pulled her hips back, swiftly impaling her on the thick shaft.

She squealed with the sudden shock of his invading flesh, but he immediately began pumping himself in and out of her so furiously, tapping her cervix with each thrust, that she didn't have time to dwell on the ruthlessness of this invasion of her cunt. The feeling of being fucked in this position was too intense, too extreme. She had to hold onto the wall.

He pulled her tube top down and her breasts fell free swinging wildly beneath her. He grabbed one mauling it in his big hand and pinched the nipple causing her to cry out. But inside the pain was a glowing spark that heated her clit pushing her closer to the edge.

A thought hatched itself in the rational portion of her mind and bubbled up through several layers of alcohol and pot; 'He's raping me! I'm being raped! Aren't I?' She wasn't sure.

She could give it no more thought as her body responded to the fucking she was receiving. He seemed to be abusing every part of her; his rough hands mauled her tender breasts, he smacked her ass hard several times causing her to cry out, he pulled her hair, tugging her head back, he wet his thumb and pushed it into her asshole up to the knuckle. She couldn't process the pleasure/pain combinations he was inflicting upon her and soon they overwhelmed her completely. Her pussy flowing like a fountain, her nipples aching, she came in waves of agonizing pleasure that ran down to her toes turning her legs to jelly. If he hadn't been holding onto her hips she would have collapsed. She heard screaming coming from somewhere and it took her a second to realize the screams were her own as her orgasm went on and on.

She wasn't sure if it was one long climax or several in rapid succession each one cresting on ruins of the last

"Oh Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" She cried. She was completely limp, helpless to even support her own weight as he mercilessly slammed himself into her.

She felt her cunt grab hold of the pistoning meat of his cock and demand what was due her, milking it out of him. He finally responded. With animalistic grunts and savage thrusts of his hips he pumped his cum into her, thrusting deep with each spasm. Again and again his cock twitched and spurted his milky fluid into her causing another wave of orgasm to overtake her helpless body.

When he was done he let go of her, zipped up and walked away. She fell to the ground and somewhere in the distance she thought she heard applause. She looked up and saw the crowd from the bar staring at her and cheering. They parted as the biker walked through. Someone yelled "seconds!" - one of her college boys? Everyone laughed.

Amy looked down at herself. Both her skirt and her top were bunched around her waist and her bare bottom was on the rough gravel. Her breasts were bruised and her pussy was still tingling and raw, his cum beginning to seep out of her. She heard a motorcycle start up and drive away.

Roger came out and broke up the crowd.

"You OK?" he said. She waved the question away and got up, holding onto him for support. In spite of himself Roger couldn't take his eyes off of the beautiful nearly naked body on display.

"Did he rape you?" he asked. "Let me call the cops."

She wasn't really sure. Her entire body felt as if she'd been beaten. But there was also that sweet post-coital hum running through her. She just shook her head, rearranged her clothes and staggered barefoot through the crowd feeling more of his cum leak out and run down her thigh. Someone grabbed her wrist but she broke free and stumbled to her car. Somehow she managed to find her keys. Somehow she managed to start the car and somehow she managed to drive home.

Pulling into the driveway she saw the living room light was on.

"Shit." she said, her father was still up. She closed one eye so she could read the clock on the dash; 3:08 AM.

She stumbled into the house squinting at the brightness of the light.

"Where have you been!" her father screamed, "It's 3 in the morning!"

"I went to Maxie's." she said slurring her words. She was too tired to lie, and she was sure he could smell the alcohol on her. She wondered if she smelled like sex.

"Maxies? How did you get served you're, only 18?!"

"Fake ID, daddy. Everyone's got one - no big deal." she said tiredly.

"No big deal?! And you drove home drunk?! After what's happened?!" He grabbed her arm then. She jerked free and came at him.

"Don't you touch me! Don't you dare touch me. I'll call the cops. I'm a grown woman, daddy I can do whatever I want and you can't stop me! Just leave me alone." And she had staggered off to her room where she promptly passed out on the bed.