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Viscious Cycle [Mf ff teen nc]
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
WARNING!
The following story is an uncensored sexual fantasy
involving practices that are illegal, immoral, socially
unacceptable, and messy. Only mature adults with a
firm grasp on reality should venture further. This
story promotes nothing, and nothing in this story
should be taken seriously. Readers are cautioned not
to attempt any of these acts without professional
guidance and a net. If you are underage, hit the 'K'
key. Reading stories like this can make you go blind.
If you are a servant of the Lord, looking for sinners
to convert, study this story and memorize it. This
will help you recognize sinners when you see them.
Good luck, and avoid mirrors!
Phil Phantom
"Viscious Cycle"
By: Tiffany
I could not help but overhear the two women. The apartment
laundromat hummed with the noise of several washers and dryers,
so they had to speak loudly. I could have joined in. They gave
me openings, but my position on the topic would have alienated
me. They were discussing a new tenant, an ex-con with a history
of fondling young girls. I knew the man they were talking about,
but his background was news to me. Being new, I was not in the
gossip loop and was content to keep it that way.
They were livid that he was allowed out in decent society.
They complained bitterly about his habit of sitting outside on
the landing, watching, always watching like a predator. From his
third floor apartment, he had a good view of the courtyard formed
by four, twelve-unit apartments. I shared his building. My
apartment was one floor below and two down on the end.
He was at his post as I carried my basket of folded clothes
back to my apartment. He scrutinized my progress. I caught his
eye and smiled. He seemed puzzled. He got few smiles.
Alone in my apartment, I set the basket down, sat in my easy
chair, and hiked my skirt. My fingers delighted my aroused
flesh. My head lay back and I remembered. He did not look like
Arnie, our next-door neighbor when I was a child. He did not
have Arnie's innocent face. I wondered if Arnie looked like that
now if he was still living. Could twenty years in prison do that
to a person, I wondered?
Arnie was my friend. He taught me things no grownup ever
did. We played deliciously nasty games. He made me happy
between my legs and excited my budding breasts. He prepared me
to take his cream-shooting happy stick, and I would have been his
little whore had my damn mother not gotten snoopy. She spied
through his window, trampling his flower garden in the process.
She had Arnie arrested. She made me testify at his trial. She
made me lie and say he had frequent intercourse with me. The
doctors verified my enlarged vagina, absent a hymen.
Mom had plans for me: homecoming queen, cheerleading, Miss
Florida, Miss America, Mrs. Big-shot-lawyer's wife. I hated her
for trying to live her life through me. I hated her for what she
did to Arnie. I let her rule my life and made it as far as the
Miss Florida finals. I did not, however, marry a lawyer. I
never married at all. I bore a bastard child and she tossed me
out. Cindy is my little bastard child. She's fourteen now and
every bit as pretty as I ever was. She could win the title when
the time comes, but I'll never push her in that direction. I'm
nothing like my mother.
Cindy and I have a great relationship, free, open, loving.
She loves me and tries hard to please me. She is an obedient
child and never any trouble. Like most girls in their first year
of puberty, she's confused, scared, and curious. It's worse on
Cindy, because she has few girlfriends (owing to the fact that we
move often) and no boyfriends. I have difficulty discussing sex
with her. My mother scarred me that way. Still, I encourage her
to be sexually open by setting the example. Lately, I've become
a bit of a slut. I don't date that often, but when I do, I
bring my men home. I also have taken to going about the house in
the nude. I forced myself to let her catch me masturbating. She
got used to it, and so did I.
As I fingered my pussy, I thought about how nice it would be
if Cindy were in the room, watching. She blushes when she sees
me playing with myself. She tries not to look, but I catch her
stealing peeks. I dreamed of the day when she and I could
comfortably get naked and sit beside each other, frigging our hot
pussies and sharing fantasies and sexual adventures. I'd tell
her all about the wonderful, exciting times I had with Arnie.
I'd tell her how I craved his big cock and how much I've missed
never having it inside me. I'd tell her how much I wanted him to
make me pregnant, hoping Mom would throw me out so I could move
in with Arnie and be his little sex toy. I thought about Cindy
and the man upstairs and came deliciously.
At first, I didn't think of him as an Arnie for my Cindy;
but before long, it was all I could think about. Cindy would
have it made with a mom like me. She'd never need to sneak off;
and Jack Barber, the man upstairs, would never have to hide what
he was doing to my little girl. He'd never need fear the law. I
gave myself the most wonderful orgasms imagining the wickedly
bizarre scenarios that could develop between them as a result of
the freedom I'd give.
I realized that Jack wasn't Arnie, and that perverts aren't
all alike. I figured he had his own quirks, and that Cindy may
have to adjust to them to be a good plaything for him. He may be
into bondage, or hurting games. He might like anal sex, or
photography. Maybe he'd want her nipples pierced or be into
golden showers. I saw my Cindy adjusting to all of those
scenarios with my guiding help. I had a hair trigger all that
week. I never came so much. Cindy must have thought I'd gone
off the deep end, she saw me masturbating so much.
The following week, I decided to meet Jack. I had no
business on the third floor landing. The walkway ran the length
of the four apartments. Jack sat in a chair leaning back with
his boots on the railing. I approached nervously and offered my
hand with a smile, saying, "Hi, I'm new here. I see you so
often. I thought I should introduce myself. My name is Sarah
Miller. I'm in 201."
He eyed my outstretched hand suspiciously. He looked me
over through squinty, unfriendly eyes. He had a rugged, unshaved
face with wrinkled leathery skin. He wore dirty coveralls and no
socks with his unlaced combat boots. I held out my hand and
waited. He finally took it and held it, not shaking, yet not
letting go. I tried to hide my nervous discomfort. I said, "I'm
sorry, I didn't get your name."
"You know who I am."
"Well, I suppose I do. You're Jack, right?" He nodded,
still holding my hand. I said, "Well, Jack, it's a pleasure to
meet you. I better be going now. My daughter, Cindy, gets home
from school soon. You must have noticed Cindy: light brunette,
long wavy hair, fourteen with big brown eyes."
"I seen her."
"Yes, well, she's a real cutie. I shudder to think what
it's going to be like when the boys discover her. Girls these
days, honestly! All they ever think about is boys, boys, boys.
I wish they still made chastity belts for them."
Jack gave me a very curious look but made no comment. I
pulled gently to extract my hand, and he let go. I backed away,
still smiling, and said in parting, "Be sure to say hi to Cindy
when you see her. Tell her you're a friend of her mom's. Bye!"
When I got back to the apartment, I replayed the scene,
trying to figure out why he acted so strangely, so stand-offish.
It finally dawned on me that he thought I was setting him up. He
knew how much everyone hated him being there. In the following
days I went back and tried to engage him in discussions. I told
him that I was aware of his past, but thought he served his debt
and should be treated as a normal person. He wouldn't open up,
but he gradually warmed to me. One day, he surprised me by
asking me if I wore panties. I said I did. He said, "I hate
bitches that wear bras and panties. If you want to talk to me,
take them off."
My face burned red. I smiled uncomfortably and left. I
returned ten minutes later, sans bra and panties. He pulled me
close. I nervously looked around as his hand went up my skirt.
He roughly felt my bare pussy, then ran his hand up my front under my dress
to my tits. He then brought his hand out and said, "Okay, what's on
your mind?"
After catching my breath and restoring my ballance,
I told him about my childhood friend, Arnie. He
listened attentively, only half believing me. Over the next
several days, we talked more openly. I told him how guilty I
felt about what happened to Arnie. I asked about his situation.
He said he was framed just like Arnie was. I told him that I
believed him.
While this was going on, I also worked on Cindy. I bought
her shorter, sexier skirts, pushing the school dress code to the
limit. I also raised the hems of her other skirts and dresses to
just above mid-thigh. Cindy protested, but I told her she needed
to start acting and looking like a young lady, accenting her
features. I told her she didn't need to wear a bra, that wearing
one unnecessarily was bad for her. I dared her to go out without
panties. She blushed. I encouraged her to get out and meet
people, get to know them. I asked if she'd
spoken to the man upstairs, introduced herself. She reacted with
shock. Earlier, she'd brought me a homemade wanted poster with his
image and name circulated by the local busy-bodies. It gave his
arrest report and record and warned the tenants of his presence.
She said, "No way, Mom. He's a pervert, a child molester."
I got angry and lectured her, telling her he was a human
being and deserved a second chance. I made her promise to be
nice and friendly to him. She said he gave her the creeps. I
impulsively slapped her face. Tears welled-up. I apologized,
but told her I was serious. I made her go to him and introduce
herself. Cindy was confused and frightened, but I knew it was
for her own good. Like a good girl, she went. She returned
agitated and flushed. She said he touched her ass, squeezed it
hard. She said he asked if she had panties on. She wanted me to
know that he hadn't changed and was still a pervert. I told her
that was normal behavior for a man in the presence of a sexy
female. I told her she had to grow up and stop acting like a
little girl. Her confusion increased.
Cindy grew despondent over my budding friendship with our
resident pervert. She knew better than to say anything to me
about it, though. Jack learned to trust me to some degree.
Though he never became friendly, and never opened up himself, he
would talk. He tested me with his crude behavior towards Cindy.
She had made numerous visits at my urging, and his
fingerprints were all over her as a result. She hated going to
him, but did as she was told. He spoke to me about Cindy, using
vulgar terms. He asked things like, "Is anybody fucking her?"
or, "You ever eat her cunt?" Naturally, I tried not to show my
shock or excitement. It wasn't easy.
I invited him to stop by for coffee. I made the invitation
several times before he showed up at my door one day. Cindy had
just come home from school and was alarmed to see Jack in our
apartment. She tried to stay away, but I made her come out and
visit. Jack and I sat across one corner of the table while the
coffee brewed. Cindy tried to hover by me, but I made her stand
beside Jack. His arm went around her lower waist and pulled her
up close to his side. Her face went ashen as his hand slid down
her bare left thigh to the knee, then started up.
I got up and attended the coffee. I returned with two cups
and set them on the table, noticing that his hand stroked up and
down the outside of her left thigh, coming far up under the short
skirt. Cindy was quite alarmed that I saw what he
was doing but made no comment. I sat and sipped my coffee in
silence. Jack wasn't talkative either, nor did he drink his
coffee. He stroked my daughter and studied my reaction. I gave
frequent reassuring smiles.
Cindy wore a dress that I had recently purchased. It was
too short and immodest for school. I made her wear it anyway.
Its full pleated hem came just below her ass and it had a
transparent peasant blouse top. The top hugged her 'C' cup
breasts nicely. I had received a call from the dean of girls
complaining that the dress was unsuitable for school. I feigned
ignorance and told them I had no way to bring another dress.
They kept Cindy out of classes, working her in the office until
school let out.
Despite my instructions that a bra was not worn with that
dress, she had put one on without the shoulder straps. I watched
Jack's hand go up under her skirt in back. I saw Cindy react
with alarm as his meaty paw mauled her ass. I noted the
unapproving look given by Jack and knew she had panties on. I
half expected her panties to come sliding down her legs.
Instead, his hand went up the back of her dress and felt the bra.
He made an angry face, removed his hand, rudely shoved Cindy
aside, got up, and walked out without a word. I followed him,
asking what was wrong. He ignored me. The door slammed in my
face.
I spun around a glared at Cindy. She said, "Mom, didn't you
see what he was doing?"
I marched past her and took up the coffee cups. She
followed. I threw the cups in the sink and turned to say, "Of
course I saw. You're wearing a bra, aren't you?"
"Yes. I have to, Mom. In sunlight, I show through this top."
"I told you that dress doesn't require one. Your tits are
supposed to show through. You could have at least slipped it off
when you took your books to your room. What kind of message do
you think that sends Jack? He already feels like we're
persecuting him. That we don't trust him."
"Mom, he felt me up right in front of you!"
"Cindy, you're such a child. When will you ever grow up?
Take that bra off this instant." She didn't move, so I reached
out and jerked her elastic top down to her waist. Her bra straps hung
loosely under her arm pits. She nervously, shyly unhooked the
center hook and let it fall away, moving quickly to pull her thin
top back into place. I told her to gather up all of her bras and
bring them to me. I cut them up before her eyes and said, "You
won't get another one until you need one. I'm doing this for
your own good; and one other thing, you will not wear panties
except at school, is that understood? Take them off now. If I
ever catch you wearing panties around the apartment, I'll destroy
them too. I stood with arms folded and watched her shimmy out of
her panties, trying not to reveal her intimate anatomy.
Cindy was in a state of shock, but I could not explain my
actions. I left her to ponder the situation. I gave her the
cold shoulder treatment. This was killing her. She's a smart
kid. I don't know what she figured out, but three hours later,
she stood before me looking penitent. She said, "Mom, I'm sorry
for the way I acted. It won't happen again."
I set aside the Playgirl magazine I was reading and looked
her over. I said, "Do you mean that?"
"Yes, I promise."
"Cindy, Jack's friendship means a lot to me. You insulted
him. It better never happen again. He's testing us, you know?
It has taken me three weeks to get this far, to win his trust.
Your childish actions have set things back a month. I won't
tolerate that. If I have to, I'll strip you naked and set you on
his lap. I'm serious."
She blushed beautifully. I went on, "I don't know what it
will take now to convince him of our sincerity, but you can bet a
simple feel will no longer do. You can blame yourself for that.
I want you to know that I won't interfere no matter what. Do you
understand that?"
She nodded, sheepishly. I added, "I don't think you do, but
you'd better keep my words in mind. I'm doing this for your good
as well as his, Cindy. He needs to come out of his shell and
feel trusted and loved. You need to loosen up and grow into
womanhood. Don't fight me on this."
I could tell she didn't understand. Fear and confusion
etched her pretty face. I said, "If he returns tomorrow, I want
you to sit on his lap. If he touches you, I'd better see a warm
response from you."
"I'll try, Mother."
"You'll try very hard or else." She nodded. I pulled her
into my arms and we hugged. I stroked her forehead and told her
I loved her. I asked her to trust me. For a moment, I sounded
like my mother and shuddered. I'm nothing like my mother.
Jack returned the following day. He took his seat and I led
Cindy to him. Cindy sat uncomfortably on his lap as I went for
the coffee. When I returned, Jack had her pulled back against
his chest and repositioned her legs so that they fell outside of
his. I smiled and took my seat with an excellent view of his
hand stroking along her right inner thigh. Cindy looked pale and
frightened. Jack studied my face as I watched his hand converge
on her crotch. Cindy tried to talk to me with her eyes. Sweat
beaded on her wrinkled brow. I avoided her eyes.
Jack's fingers made steady progress towards her pussy. Her
skirt had advanced before the hand and afforded me a clear view
of her lightly-downed beaver. She stiffened when his fingertips
touched her slit. His index finger parted her sex lips and
stroked the length of her slit lazily. Cindy looked terrified.
I smiled and sipped my coffee while watching his finger dig
around for her opening. It poked inside, making her wince. His
other hand cupped her left breast and squeezed hard. His finger
and thumb sought the nipple and pinched it. She bit her lower
lip as his finger went deep inside.
Sweat beaded on Cindy's brow as his fingering and kneading
intensified. My hand drifted up my thigh, easing my skirt before
it. Jack and Cindy eyed my hand as I entered my aroused flesh.
Jack smiled, a rare sight, so I boldly raised my skirt and spread
my knees wide.
Jack wrested the dress off of Cindy, handling her like a rag
doll. The dress came off over her head, leaving her naked with
her shoes and white socks on. I sat forward and removed those
for her. Jack then moved her lower on his lap and drew her legs
back by the knees, spreading them wide, presenting me with an
obscene view of Cindy's sex. Since he was obviously doing this
for my benefit, I stared openly, despite Cindy's mortification.
I even leaned forward and touched her parted lips, drawing my
nails delicately over her inflamed tissues. I said, "She's
beautifully developed, isn't she, Jack?"
He did not answer, but did smile. After a few seconds, he
said, "Kiss it!"
Cindy gave me an impassioned look that implored me not to do
it. I smiled warmly, trying to get her to relax and slowly bent
my head to her spread beaver. Her wide eyes followed. I pursed
my lips and planted tender kisses over her pussy. Cindy groaned.
I planted one long deep kiss to the center of her sex, delving
far up her tight hole with my stiffened tongue. Cindy moaned
loudly. I sat back, smiled, and said, "She's delicious. I knew
she would be."
Jack pushed Cindy to her knees before me and said, "Kiss
hers!"
Cindy looked up, begging. I sat back and presented my
spread to her, holding myself wide by my inner thighs. Jack
pushed Cindy's head into my cunt and held it firmly. She
couldn't breathe. I said, "Lick, sweetheart, and he'll ease up."
She hesitated, but her tongue came out. I told Jack that she was
licking my cunt nicely, though all she did was stick her tongue
into me and hold steady. Jack released her and sat back
grinning. Cindy took a deep breath.
To make it look better, I rolled my pelvis in a sexy grind,
encouraging her to lick harder and deeper. Soon, Cindy did just
that. Jack obviously liked what he saw. He took out his
eight-inch cock and began jacking off. When I could see him
nearing a climax, I pushed Cindy away, turned her to face him,
and maneuvered her head above his cock. Cindy resisted, but I
firmly got her mouth over his purple crown, telling her to suck.
Her mouth settled over the knob and her cheeks hollowed as Jack
stepped up the pace of his pumping. His cock erupted in her
mouth and I held her steady, couching her to suck and swallow.
She choked, gagged, sucked, and swallowed.
When Jack finished, he stood, replaced his cock, and left.
I walked him to the door. After he left, I turned to find Cindy
still kneeling naked in place, wiping tears from her eyes and cum
from her chin and neck. I walked over and sat in Jack's place,
took her face in my hands and smiled, saying, "You were a very
good girl today, Cindy. I'm so proud of you. You acted so
mature, like a real woman."
Cindy smiled weakly. I dabbed some semen from the corner of
her lips and offered it to her. She looked hesitant but opened
her mouth and let me put my finger inside. She sucked as I
withdrew. I found this very exciting and looked for more under
her chin and on her neck. I found a little drop on her neck and
fed that to her, saying, "Eat all of this you can, because it
makes your tits grow big. Besides, it's good for your
complexion."
"It tastes funny."
"You'll get used to it. Beer washes the aftertaste away
better than anything. Would you like one?"
"Yeah, I suppose."
I got up and brought her a cold beer. She was on her feet
about to don her dress. I handed her the beer and said, "Please
don't. You look so nice and sexy, naked."
She let the dress drop and took the beer. She downed a long
swallow, took another, then said, "Mom, are you one of those
women that likes girls and boys?"
"I suppose I am. I liked it with you, and I sure like
looking at your body."
"You make me fell funny when you look at me like that."
"Like what, Cindy, like I want to gobble you up."
Cindy giggled and said, "Yeah, like some guys do."
"I might gobble you up. I'm your mother; I can get away
with it; you have to do as I say."
"I'm at your mercy, huh?"
"Yes, and that means you're also at Jack's mercy."
"Mom, I don't like Jack."
"I know, sweetheart. He'll grow on you. You'll see."
"Yeah, like a fungus."
"Don't talk like that, Cindy. Jack is my friend."
"I'm sorry."
"That's better. You just trust me. I know what's best for
you. You just be thankful that I'm not like my mother."
Jack continued his visits. Each visit added new erotic
delights. Cindy and I became lovers for his enjoyment. On his
third visit, I guided his cock into Cindy. On the fifth,
he took her anal cherry. In preparation for his sixth visit, (following Jack's
instructions) I tied Cindy to her bed, spread-eagled. After placing two
pillows under her ass, I secured ties to her knees and pulled
them wide. I stuffed my panties in her mouth and gagged her with
pantyhose. I took red lipstick and wrote in big letters across
her lower abdomen: "Please fuck my little girl's pussy."
I stood back and surveyed the scene, smiled at Cindy, then
answered the door. Jack entered with two of his buddies. They
brushed past me on the way to her room.
I think about those times a great deal. I have lots of time
to think - ten years, with good behavior. Jack has a lot more
time than that. Mom is taking good care of Cindy. Cindy won the
Miss Florida title. She seems happy with Mom. Still, I'm glad
that I'm nothing like my mom.
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