Those Kinds of Adult Stories Your Mother Warned You About Read online

  John’s cock replaced his fingers, his hips sheathing it deep into me in a single thrust. I moaned as his size spread me fully, stretching my inner walls to their capacity. I grabbed hold of the table’s edges to steady myself as he stroked his organ slowly in and out. The pressure deep within me built and grew, the near pain making me crazy with lust, with desire. Still, he maintained a slow even pace with his thrusts, gliding on my juices, his body bringing mine to a boil.

  He slid out of me slowly, then slammed his meat back in, hard. His firm hands on my hips prevented me from hitting the table’s edge while his own drew back to lunge forward again. He struck a new rhythm, gliding out slowly, to strike my inner walls with a ferocity that sent my pleasure to a new height. His knees behind mine spread my legs even further apart, maximizing the intensity of the sensations coursing through me.

  Wrapping his strong arm around my hips to hold me in place, his other hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head back. His mouth crushed against my throat while his cock plowed my hole, faster, driving harder, quicker. The pressure in my lower body increased, the fires of ecstasy burning, climbing to greater heights. John moaned against my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I knew his own explosion was imminent, for his thrusts slowed while pushing in as deep as he could. Mine erupted like the sun bursting through dense clouds, my inner walls convulsing, quivering, turning my lower body into pudding.

  Crying out, I trembled under the sheer force of the intense pleasure, John’s cock drove in deep, hard, his mouth on my throat bruising my flesh. His long shuddering moan told me his climax flared, his thrusts growing less hard, his body relaxing against my back. His fingers in my hair loosened, and I dropped my brow to the table, breathing in ragged gasps. While he, too, caught his breath, his fingers caressed my cheek, and his lips teased the corner of my mouth.

  “I cannot get enough of you,” he murmured. “It is almost as though you were meant for me.”

  I turned my head, still pinned to the table by his weight, and not minding at all, and gazed into his eyes so close to mine. I pressed a kiss to his lips, nibbling, probing his mouth with my tongue. His deflated cock fell from me as he straightened, his hands on my shoulders bringing me up with him. My legs wobbled, forcing me to clutch him for support. Our mingled juices slid down my thighs as John embraced me, holding me close to him. He caressed my body as he kissed me slowly, lovingly.

  Taking me by the hand, he led me to his great bed, and flung back the furs and linens. Lying down beside me, his face close to mine, he covered us both. “I want you, Kate,” he murmured. “I cannot see you become another man’s wife.”

  Hope shot through me. “Will you make me yours?”

  His finger traced up my arm to my throat and cheeks, his grey eyes warm. “It would seem I have little choice. You may already have caught pregnant with my seed, and I cannot dishonor you further by keeping you as my mistress all the days of your life.”

  “I will make you a very happy man, my lord,” I said, kissing him. “I will bear you strong sons and beautiful daughters.”

  “If they are half as beautiful as you, Kate, then I will be forced to fight off lusty suitors.”

  “I think I am falling in love with you, John,” I murmured. “You make me so very happy.”

  “Good. For you have bewitched me, my vixen, and I am yours. For now and always.”

  Story 3

  Gladstone Town. There was nothing glad about the dark gloomy place, and the rounded stones that cobbled the narrow roads were covered in grime and in need of a rigorous washing. It was a good thing then that the rains had come early that year. It also meant that the outlying farmlands to the west of the town could start planting new crops, so the reserve food grain in the town’s storage could be distributed to the hungry townspeople.

  It had been this way for as long as Megan could remember in the nineteen years of life of hers, worsening year after year. Her poverty stricken parents had fallen to the damned black plague of 1877, when she was just about five. She lived with her father’s useless brother and his starving family of four ever since, adding another sorry mouth to feed for them. They were poor, just as the rest of the townsfolk, but she was grateful for at least that over the prospect of begging out in the ragged streets. She shuddered involuntarily at those horrid old memories as she sat in the ice cold wooden seats of the old town council hall.

  The geriatric mayor, the elderly Pastor Coolidge, had called for a town meeting about the distribution of the food stocks. The decrepit town council hall where the haggard people of Gladstone, all hundred and sixty seven of them, were gathered had seen better days. The fading plaster on the pillars and walls was chipping away and a few large cracks in the high ceiling let the falling rain in. Several of the tall windows had shattered panes; and some had no panes at all and the once shiny curtain rods hung bare and rust-covered over the rattling windows. The cold wind blew into the aged building with a vengeance and chilled everyone to the bone. Mayor Coolidge stood shivering on the worm eaten wooden pedestal and nodded at the gathering.

  “Thank you all for coming on this unfortunate night.” The old man said in a trembling voice. “Gladstone Town now suffers its thirteenth year of poor harvest, and we pray that the rains last longer this year.”

  “Our prayers fall on deaf ears, Coolidge.” A gruff voice from the front challenged the old mayor. “Just like they have for the last twelve and a half years. We need more than just prayers to save this old town.”

  “Thank you for that astute observation, Mister Hoddle.” Coolidge replied with a dry smile. “But right now I can think of nothing more than our honest prayers. Things will get better once we…”

  “And when will than happen, old man?” A fat woman seated next to Hoddle sneered. “Just before we draw out last breath. Unlike you, we still have many years we would like to live. Tell us, Coolidge, when will things get better again? ”

  “I am not privileged to have that information, Mrs. Danker.” Coolidge remained calm. “We can only hope that the Lo…”

  “Hope will not save this cursed town.” A slim man to the left stood up. Megan recognized him as the butcher’s son, Willis. “It’s time we put our much tested faith into other means of salvation. Means that may work.”

  “If you mean that charlatan who offered us…” Coolidge paled as he spoke.

  “Yes, we do.” Huddle said importantly. “And we have invited one of his respected acolytes here to enlighten us.”

  “But I have not been made aware…” Coolidge protested. “I am the mayor…”

  “Not for long, Coolidge.” Huddle went on. “Now step off the pedestal and let Brother Norton of the vaunted Harrow Manor speak.”

  Megan glanced sideways, noticing the eager looks on the faces of the people, including her uncle, aunt and cousin sister, Sondra. Everyone was expectant; they were desperate for something to save the town and by the look of this newcomer Megan could tell there was a high price to pay for the so-called salvation he offered.

  “Good people of Gladstone Town. I am Brother Norton and I come in peace.” The slender young man with a receding hairline smiled at everyone from the pedestal. “Rejoice, my friends, for the Blessed Order of Lord Aldridge Harrow has come to save you all. We have saved many. The towns to the east of here, and the south, they were just as deprived as Gladstone not too long ago. We have done what was needed to bring peace and prosperity back to those unfortunate towns and now they all reap in the glory of their salvation.”

  “What is it that you do?” Coolidge asked in an aggravated tone.

  “Why, pastor?” The leering young man addressed the sickly old mayor. “You would know rather well what we do. We offer salvation from your past sins, we offer to absolve those of ill repute and set them back on the path of righteousness.”

  “What sins and ill reputation do you think we of Gladstone have?” A deep voice from the back yelled. Megan turned back to look and didn’t really recognize the face of the man yelling
.

  “All of you, you fine people of Gladstone.” Norton waved his spindly arms around. “All of you are sinners in need of salvation, and that is why I am here.”

  “What must we do, Brother Norton?” Huddle asked him in a voice of wonderment.

  “Each of you must come to the Manor Harrow to be blessed and saved by his lordship, the chosen master of salvation… and only then will the town be saved and your fortunes be once more favorable.” The visitor said with elevated enthusiasm. “And each must bring with them a tithe, a little something that is dear to you, as atonement for the sins of your people. It can be anything, from a little copper coin, gold if you feel your sins are many, to a necklace, or a little weapon or even something living, like a pet animal of some sort. The tithe must be something very dear to the sinner, only then will the absolvent be fruitful.”

  “We are ready to do this, Brother Norton.” The Sutcliffe woman said eagerly. “When can we go to the Manor Harrow?”

  “Each day, you must send two of your townspeople at a time. Members of the same family or neighbors, or anyone, but two at a time.” Norton said with reverence. “It is best to send the young unmarried maids first, and then the young men. After them the rest may follow.”

  “Why the unmarried maids first?” Coolidge asked with a furrowed brow.

  “It is pertinent to begin with those that have lesser burdens of sin, pastor. You should know this.” Norton replied and Megan detected a hint of sneer in his thin voice.

  “Then should not the children go first?” The mayor persisted.

  “You have truly lost your mind, mayor, and I must ask the good townspeople to replace you before your ill-founded judgment does further harm to the town.” Norton laughed out derisively. “We all know that children are innocent of sin and in no need of salvation. Pastor Coolidge, you have disappointed all your people this day, and most of all yourself.”

  “It is settled then.” Huddle stood up. “Coolidge is no longer mayor. The town council will vote in the next few days about who to replace him with.”

  “Yes, so it is.” Norton replied and stepped off the pedestal. “Now decide who among the young maidens you will send first, the ceremonies of salvation will begin the very next day.”

  The loud buzzing that followed of everyone talking at once left Megan with the urge to run away from this dismal place. It seemed everyone wanted to send their unmarried daughters first. She watched her fat faced uncle and his skinny wife haggle for prominence. She shuddered at the thought of being sent to some strange place for salvation she knew she did not warrant. But it was quite evident that the silly people of Gladstone had bought every word this man from the Harrow Estate had said and were ever eager to pay even more than they could afford.

  Huddle told everyone that he would make a listing of names and draw lots. Everyone agreed to that, and then the rush to submit names followed. After some time and a whole lot of chaos, the squat man called out a name.

  “Sondra Asbury.”

  Megan stood quite still. That was her cousin sister’s name. And according to the requirement, only young unmarried maids should go, two at a time, preferably of the same family. Sondra’s younger sister, Esmeralda, was not even ten. That meant Megan would have to go to with her cousin. That very night. She was in no mind for going through any kind of ritualistic salvation for the wickedness of the people of this squalid town. But the look of pride and glee in her uncle and aunt’s leering faces told her that she had no say in the matter. There was nothing she could do than follow her cousin into the little carriage that waited to take them off to the distant estate of this Lord Aldridge Harrow, the savior of towns near and far.

  The ride was a long and tedious one, all through the cold rainy night and to the next dawn before the high walls of the ominous Harrow Estate loomed up. The rain lessened to a refreshing shower as the rattling carriage came to a halt. The single work horse harnessed to it shivered in the cold mountain air as Megan peered out of the window. The worst of the storm was over but the old creaking boards and sagging roof of the carriage did little to keep the water out. The two young women were damp and cold, but Sondra smiled brightly.

  “Yes, we have finally arrived.” The lovely dark haired girl gushed at Megan’s sullen expression. Megan was terribly miserable and she did not share her cousin’s jumped up enthusiasm to be there. The damp mist surrounding them and cold fleeting rain did not help either.

  “Why must we be the first here?” Megan asked in a whisper, as the two young women stepped out of the grating vehicle.

  “Oh! Megan, my dear cousin...” Sondra smiled widely. “We are here to save my wretched soul.”

  “How would you know your soul needed saving?” Megan muttered, hugging her slender arms around herself. She looked disdainfully at the carriage turning to head back the way they had come. The driver urged the horse into a trot, eager to get away from the enveloping gloom.

  “Oh my dear, dear cousin, I haven’t been the purest of the pure, you know.” Sondra laughed with a snort and briskly stepped towards the ancient structure. A short man in a hooded robe of dark tan material stood hunched at the tall Iron Gate.

  “Welcome to the Manor Harrow. I am Brother Galen.” The squat acolyte nodded in greeting. “This is… a hallowed and sacred place.”

  Sondra curtsied and replied. “We are blessed to be here, my good man.” And Megan gathered her wet cloak around herself and shivered the more.

  “Come, you will feel sanctified and privileged to be in the presence of Lord Aldridge Harrow.” The acolyte waved them towards the foreboding doors of the monolithic edifice. “He awaits your graceful presence with much anticipation.”

  The inside of the Manor was more dour and depressing than the chilly weather outside. Dimly lit candles on their tall iron stands were the only source of light and cast eerie shadows all around the gloomy hallway. Megan felt the urge to turn and run at every step as they followed the dark robed acolyte. He led them into a room no less cheerful than the hallway, where two other cloaked and hooded figures waited.

  “You have the tithe for your salvation.” One of the hooded women held out a thick calloused palm.

  “Yes!” Sondra nodded and handed over a small leather pouch.

  The gold coins inside clinked softly. This was payment from the townsfolk to have their souls saved and fortunes recouped. To be once again the prosperous and bustling township that Gladstone had been before. Lord Aldridge Harrow was well reputed as being the man who worked miracles. Many a township his wisdom and skills had saved from the brink of utter doom. His offer of atonement for a small sum of trinkets and a session of cleansing was most accommodating. And all tended to agree to his wisdom. Then why was Megan feeling so ill at ease about all this.

  “You will need to wear these holy robes.” The other hooded woman whispered and held out two folds of sheer white linen. “Now remove your tainted garments and prepare for the ceremony.”

  “Uh, but it’s so late.” Megan feebly protested. “And we are exhausted from a long and tiresome journey.”

  “This is the hour,” Brother Galen said softly. “We must cleanse your tainted souls at this moment.”

  Sondra nodded and began to undress, much to Megan’s shock and astonishment. The beautiful brunette gathered the transparent little robe around her svelte naked body and looked at her cousin expectantly.

  “What?” Megan choked. “I’m not getting naked in from to these...”

  “You have no choice, my dear.” A warm soothing voice wafted in from the shadows beyond the billowing curtains. “This is the hour of deliverance. Should it be missed, your souls will forever burn in the nether and the good people of Gladstone shall forever suffer in their depravity.”

  The young women whirled around to face the now parted curtains. Lord Aldridge Harrow stood there with a kind smile on his face. His bright blue eyes twinkled and he stepped into the room. Long black hair flecked with strands of silver and grey fell gently around h
is broad shoulders and his flowing white robe was untied, exposing his deep muscular chest, taut ridged belly and dark hairy groin. He gestured at the three members of his cult in the room and nodded. They seized Megan suddenly and tore off her damp gown and undergarments. A large hand on her mouth muffled her scream. She stared at Sondra with fright but her cousin looked on with a bemused smile. The acolytes dropped her naked to the floor and tossed the little white robe into her grasping hands.

  “It is time, my dear.” Harrow held out his hand at Sondra and the curvaceous brunette willingly accepted. He led her to a wide stone platform in the middle of the room and helped her lay down on it. The platform was cushioned with red velvet and several lit candles and oil lamps cast a warm yet ominous glow all over the surface. The three heavyset acolytes removed their dark hoods and began a low, hypnotic chant. Megan peered at their faces in the dimness and saw the wanton lust in their burning eyes as they fixatedly stared at the flat stone platform. She shivered and wrapped the slight robe around her naked body tighter. Her small breasts sported goose bumps and her nipples ached with tautness from the cold.

  “This is the hour of your salvation.” The Lord of the Manor said softly as he looked down at Sondra. “We must cleanse your tainted soul.”