Bump... And I'm Screwed. Christine's Story free porn video

It was another crappy night at the club. Every week I wondered why I let my friends talk me into going out on Monday. Then after the first day of the week at the stupid sub shop where I worked I was so bummed that pounding some beers sounded great. And that week I had a brand new pair of really cool jeans that I was dying to wear. They were cut so low that I had to put a sweater on when I left the house or my dad would have had a shit fit about my butt crack and panties showing. Well, duh. Like that wasn't the plan?

As soon as I started up my car, I tossed the sweater into the back seat. I love that car. It's a blue Chevy Cavalier that I got for my eighteenth birthday and it makes me feel cool and independent because it's all mine. My dad still pays the insurance and gas, but I do everything else.

I didn't have time to do anything with my hair, so I just left it in a ponytail. That was better for dancing anyway, because it kept it out of the way. My hair is pretty thick, and down past my shoulders. It's kind of a reddish blonde and it's my natural color.

I raced over to the club, which was at the big conference hotel by the highway. I got there about nine and checked my reflection in the car window before I went in. I looked hot in the jeans and my favorite little sleeveless top, white with sparkly pink lettering across the front. Perfect, it said, because they were. My boobs, I mean.

The rest of me was okay, too. Well, except I thought that my butt was too big, even if my mom said that thirty-four inch hips were nothing on a girl my size. I'm like 5'5". But I've got great boobs. They've been my ticket ever since I turned fourteen and they all of a sudden sprouted. About the same time I got my boobs I grew about five inches and went from a pudgy, quiet nobody to a girl who made boys at school have to untuck their shirts to cover their boners.

Guys are all alike, even my dad. Once I developed I could get anything I wanted and I never got into trouble. What was daddy going to do, spank me? All I had to do is flash him a little bra, or cry if it was something really expensive. Then he'd get so flustered he couldn't cave in fast enough. I mean, I love him and all, but a girl has to look out for herself sometimes.

Anyway, once I got to the club it was the same-old same-old. Trent, the guy I was kind of seeing, kept hanging all over me and wouldn't let me dance with anyone else, which was the pits because he dances like he has someone's finger up his ass. That was better than sitting at the table with him, though. Then he spent all his time chugging beer and burping and trying to shove his hand into my panties.

I hadn't done it with Trent yet and I was planning on making him wait at least another week, even though I wanted it pretty bad. A girl has to be careful, especially since I'd gotten kind of a reputation in high school. And it wasn't like it was a huge thrill with most guys my age anyway. First they'd squeeze my boobs like they thought they were popping a zit or something, and then when they got my panties off, their idea of foreplay was seeing how many fingers they could get into my pussy at the same time.

And the main event - woo, woo! Sometimes the only reason I knew they were in me was because it hurt from me not being wet enough yet. And they never wanted to wear a rubber, so it lasted like twenty seconds instead of thirty because they had to pull out before they shot off like a freaking rocket with a really short fuse.

After a few hours I had a pretty good buzz on and was starting to change my mind about making Trent wait. But then he just took off with his friends to play stupid foosball, so I left. Plus if I made it home by twelve-thirty I'd score some points with my parents. I got into my car, turned on some tunes, and dug in my purse for some mints to cover the smell of the beer. I started backing out of my parking spot and all of a sudden this horn was honking like crazy. It was some guy in a big SUV, making a big deal out of it - like he couldn't have just stopped and let me out!

So I let the butthead go by and then pulled out. I was still kind of pissed off about Trent. All night long he'd been like trying to lay this guilt thing on me because we weren't doing it, talking about the girls who liked him and crap like that. Like he was some kind of hot catch or something. And then when I got the itch and kind of wanted to do it, he was more interested in some dumb game whacking a little ball around. Plus my stereo was all screwed up, and I couldn't get the CD that was in there to eject no matter how hard I pushed the button...

The next thing I knew my forehead was bouncing off the dashboard. Shit! I ran into a car that was sitting in the middle of the freaking road. Damn! My dad was already pissed off because the insurance company raised my rates. I rubbed my forehead and waited for my vision to clear. It was the butthead in the big SUV again, and I had hit him pretty hard.

I got out of my car and went up to check on the damage. My headlight was broken, and the grill and bumper were kind of crumpled, but the SUV didn't look too bad. Maybe the bumper was bent a little. I heard a car door close and saw the guy walking toward me. He was an old guy, like my dad. He was at least forty, and he looked pissed.

"I didn't see you," I wailed. "It was so dark and you like slammed on your brakes!"

"Whoa. Hold on little lady," the guy said. "I was completely stopped when you hit me. Didn't you see that stop sign?" He was definitely pissed.

He glanced at the back of his SUV, shook his head and then looked at me. I was used to guys checking me out, so I knew the feeling. His eyes roamed down to my chest and stayed there for a while before taking in the rest of me. I started to get my confidence back. He was a man and I knew how to get my way with men, especially the old ones. The little miss innocent act always worked way better with them than with guys my age. I got my grandpa to buy me like five pairs of really cool shoes the last time he visited.

As he continued to look me over, I slumped against the front fender of my car and buried my face in my hands.

"My dad is going to kill me!" I sobbed. " I'm going to be so grounded." I looked up, checking the guy's reaction. Tears always worked. "Do we have to report it? I mean, it doesn't look that bad."

He nodded. "I'm afraid so. Just the damage to the bumpers will cost more than five hundred bucks, so we've got to have a police report. First things first, though. I need your license and insurance information."

Crap! I was right first time. This guy was a total butthead. I got my purse from the front seat of my car, and then pulled the insurance card out of the glove compartment. I gave him my license and the insurance, and he moved over until he was under the big parking lot light and could read them.

I leaned against the fender of my car again, tugged my jeans down a little, and straightened my top. The guy finished reading, and as soon as he started checking me out again I looked away like I didn't notice him leering.

"Look, Christine," he said. "This isn't my fault. Reporting the accident is the law." He didn't sound as mad any more, so it looked like my plan was working. I nodded and bit my lip, giving him my best poor-little-girl look.

"You've been drinking, haven't you?" he asked.

I nodded again.

"Damn. That's a problem," he said.

"You think the cops will be able to tell?" I asked. I hadn't even thought about that. I had a girlfriend who got picked up for a DUI and it was horrible. They really jerked her around and she had to spend a night in jail and then like hundreds of hours picking up trash and shit like that.

"You were coming out of a bar. If I can tell, the cops probably can, too. What's the drinking age in this state?"

Like he didn't know I was underage. He had my freaking driver's license, my real one, and he knew I was eighteen. I had a fake one that said I was twenty-one that I used in the bar. All of a sudden this mess was getting really serious.

"Hey, do we have to call the cops right away?" I asked, thinking fast. "I mean, I only had like four or five beers and I was here a couple of hours. If we waited an hour maybe I'd sober up enough to fool the cops."

The man shook his head. "I've got to work in the morning, Christine. I can't just stand around here for an hour."

Now I was crying for real. It was really stupid of me to even be at this dumb bar, and I should have let one of my friends drive me. And I shouldn't have been playing with my stupid stereo instead of paying attention to where I was going. My hands were shaking and it wasn't cold outside. My friend who got arrested told me that the cops were really mean to her and they put her in a cell with these really tough dykes who scared the crap out of her by saying all kinds of gross stuff. None of them like touched her or anything, but they could have.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the guy, and he looked kind of flustered. Like my dad looked when I cried... except my dad usually didn't stare at my boobs, not like this guy was doing. He even moved over a little like he was trying to get a better angle. I leaned forward and tugged my top down some more, and looked away like I didn't know he was staring. I wiped at my eyes and did this shrugging thing that made my ponytail bounce a little. Guys love that.

"Umm, on the other hand, maybe we could wait a while," he said.

I waited a second, then looked up and gave him a little smile. "Really? You'd do that?"

The guy looked even more flustered, and he shifted his weight and gave his crotch a quick rub, like he was brushing off lint or something. I could tell he was trying to hide the bulge in his pants, and even though I wanted him to be interested enough to help me out, seeing him getting a hard-on from staring at my tits was really creepy. Ewwww! He was like old. I mean, he even had some gray hair.

"Yeah, sure," he said. "But it's kind of chilly out here, and if we're standing around too long someone's going to think there's a problem."

He looked at our cars, and then at the club, which was a long way away. Where we were was totally deserted, and I couldn't figure out what he was talking about. So I just stared back at him, glad he wasn't talking about calling the cops any more.

"We could wait in my car," he said. His voice sounded funny, like he was choking a little bit, and the bulge in his pants was even bigger now.

I kind of froze for a second when I realized what he meant - him, and me like alone in his car with him already all turned on. But what the hell was I supposed to do? I just wanted to keep him happy for a little while.

"Well, okay, if you think that's better," I said and started to walk toward the passenger side.

"No!" he said, smiling but looking nervous. "I mean, we're not driving, so just get in here." He opened the rear driver's side door. "There's more room in the back seat anyway."

I stepped up on the running board and had to lean way over to climb in. He was right behind me, and I mean right behind me. If I stopped suddenly, he'd have gotten a face full of my butt. I scooted over to the passenger side to make room, but he kept scooting too and ended up with his leg pressed right against mine. I knew what he had in mind, but it wasn't really sinking in yet because it all seemed so weird. I couldn't believe that this old guy wanted to make out in the backseat of his car.

"Well, that's better," he said. He was really close, and he was looking at my face, his eyes kind of wandering around. He had on old guy cologne too, like the stuff I bought my dad for Father's Day.

"You're one hell of a good-looking woman, Christine," he said.

He leaned closer. Jeez, he was going to kiss me! And then he did, but gently, and it wasn't too bad if I shut my eyes. He didn't act like he was trying to bite the lower half of my face off like Trent and some other guys I'd dated. He stroked his lips against mine, smearing my lip gloss. Then he kind of pecked at me, nibbling first on my lower lip, then the upper. It was okay. He reached his arm around my shoulders and put his hand on my upper arm. It felt a little cold but his hand was soft and he rubbed up and down, caressing the muscles and stroking me with his fingertips. After a minute or so of this, I pulled my face back and looked into his eyes. He looked like he was getting pretty excited. It was still a little creepy but not as bad as before.

"Is this okay?" I asked. "I mean, is this good enough so we don't have to call the cops right away?" I figured I could put up with it as long we kept all our clothes on, and I was pretty good at keeping guys under control.

"So far so good," he said.

He started to kiss me again. Then I felt his other hand on my leg, stroking and squeezing me through my jeans. His fingers were only a couple of inches from my pussy, so I clamped my thighs together really tight. He seemed to get the message, moving the hand up to my hip. Now I wished the jeans weren't so skimpy. They didn't even cover my hipbones, and when I was sitting down like that about half of my butt was hanging out.

He started to move his face around more as he kissed me, getting into it, and was sucking on my lips, one at a time. He was licking them too, and trying to shove his tongue into my mouth. He was a good kisser but I didn't want to French with the guy yet - not while I still had at least an hour to go before we could call the cops.

All of a sudden his hand wasn't on my hip any more. It was up on my shirt, and he was rubbing his thumb against the bottom of my tit. I had a little knit bra on underneath, but it wasn't much protection, and I knew he was going to be grabbing my boob next. I put my hand over his and moved it down onto my stomach. It was bare skin, and maybe that would keep him occupied for a while.

The guy stiffened up, and then stopped kissing me. He looked at me and his eyes were different, kind of cold.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," he said, reaching into the console between the front seats and getting his cell phone. He flipped it open. Now I was scared again.

"When the cops get here, just stay quiet and maybe they won't catch on that you're drunk," he said, running his tongue over his lips. "That's important, because you don't want to mess with a DUI. That'd mean a night in jail." His face was still pretty close to mine, and he had a hand on my shoulder.

"Do we have to do that?" I asked, and my voice squeaked a little. My heart was really pounding with fear as I looked down at my boobs, wishing I'd let him squeeze them.

"Tell you what, Christine. I'm staying at this hotel. Why don't we wander over to my room while we wait for you to sober up a little? We can both get a lot more comfortable. If everything works out, I won't even have to report the accident. I could tell my insurance company someone hit me in a parking lot, which is true. You could do the same thing, and your dad wouldn't even get mad at you."

His room! Shit! I should have let him do whatever he wanted as long as we were in his car, where people might come by. In his room there'd be no stopping him. This guy actually wanted to fuck me!

"That would be great, but I can't go to your room," I said. "It wouldn't be right. Can't we just stay here? I'll let you touch my boobs."

I stuck my chest out a little more. He looked at me like he thought that was funny.

"I've got a big day tomorrow," he said coldly. "I can't afford to waste my time. Why don't I call the cops now, then we can call your insurance company. There's a 24-hour number on your card." He looked like he would do it, too.

I was screwed. I just couldn't get arrested. It would be awful and my dad would probably take my car away. Compared to that, fucking this fossil seemed almost appealing. He'd been pretty nice so far and at least it would be over quickly. And he said if I did it he wouldn't call the cops or even report the accident. I just wanted to get home and curl up in my own bed and forget that any of this happened.

I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times but my throat was really dry. I swallowed hard. "Don't do that," I heard myself saying. "Your room will be okay."

The guy smiled. And just like that everything changed. I wasn't in control any more and he knew it. He knew I was going to let him fuck me. I felt cheap but I'd made my decision. I just wanted it to be over.

He reached up and held my chin between a thumb and finger, inspecting me. Then he ran the finger back and forth across my lower lip. "Hop up in the front seat where I can keep an eye on you," he said, reaching across to open the passenger side rear door for me.

I got out and climbed in the front door. I felt kind of dizzy. None of it seemed real. He started the car and pulled away, but I wasn't paying attention. I folded my hands in my lap and squeezed them together really tight. All of a sudden I felt like I might cry.

"Are you in school?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I finished high school but was kind of burned out. So I got a job just to make enough for clothes and stuff. It's at Subway."

I paused, trying to get my breathing under control. "I'm going to go back to school, though." I didn't want to cry. I didn't think it would do me any good with this guy and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was upset. I would just fuck him, and pretend like I didn't care - you know, like I did stuff like that all the time.

We pulled into the parking area for a cluster of buildings, each of them two stories tall with a balcony for the upstairs hotel rooms. After he parked, he leaned against the center console and put his hand on my right boob, groping it but not so hard that it hurt. The way he was rubbing worked my nipple against my bra and made it tingle.

"Okay then, let's go in," he said.

He rushed around to my side of the car and then grabbed my arm just above the elbow, holding it tight enough that I knew I couldn't get away. We walked over to the flight of stairs to the second floor of the building. He let go of my arm and gave me a little push up the stairs, with him following close behind. I knew that he was staring at my ass, and I wished I hadn't worn my new jeans because now I would have to take them off for him and might never feel like wearing them again. My legs felt really heavy and the toes of my sandals kept hitting the edge of the steps.

"Left," he said, as we got to the landing. I walked along the balcony, looking at each door wondering which one it was. When we got to 3206 he grabbed my shoulder and turned me into the door, pressing his body against my back. His dick was really hard and it was poking me in the small of my back. Feeling him like that took all my strength away. I was scared and I felt trapped but I couldn't move. He reached around me and grabbed my boobs with both hands and squeezed them. I felt his lips on my neck, then against my right ear.

"You understand what we're doing here, right?" he asked, his voice low and thick.

I nodded my head because I was pretty sure I couldn't talk. I felt really dizzy.

"You don't have to do this, Christine. But if we go inside you're going to do whatever I tell you to do, right?"

I guess I could have said no but it seemed too late for that. I just didn't have the energy to fight about calling the cops again, and figured that I might as well get it over with. So I nodded my head again.

He took his hand off my left tit and stroked a card key through the lock and the little green light illuminated, followed by a faint clicking sound. He pushed the door open, then reached around me and flipped on the lights. I moved forward, his hands on my shoulders. It was a nice room, with a big king sized bed. It smelled clean and fresh, like when we moved into our new house. He pushed me to the edge of the bed and let go.

I sat down with shoulders hunched over, and folded my hands in my lap again. The room had one of those mini bars and the guy opened it and poked around. When he walked back over he was carrying an open beer and he tossed a little bottle in my lap. Tequila.

"Here. This'll loosen you up a little," he said.

I didn't like tequila, but didn't care. Being scared had me feeling stone sober and I needed something strong. I opened the little bottle and poured it all down, cringing at the sting of it but loving the warmth it spread through my midsection.

"Can I have another one?" I asked.

The guy nodded, taking another pull on his beer. I went to the mini bar and found two more bottles of Jose Cuervo's finest. He was sitting on the bed, drinking his beer and watching me, making no effort to hide where he was staring. I sat next to him.

"Good idea to stick with the tequila," he said. "We don't want to upset your tummy. Now drain those like a good little girl so we can get started."

Fucking, he meant. He made it sound so impersonal, like he was talking about cutting my hair or rotating my tires. Thinking about it that way made it less scary.

He kept watching me as I drank both bottles. Getting it all down was hard. I didn't do shots. After the second one I coughed a little and my eyes were watering, but I felt calmer. I dropped the bottles on the floor. My hands were empty now, and they were shaking a little. My eyes were still watering and it wasn't from the tequila. I looked away so he wouldn't see that I was crying.

Then I felt his hand, sliding up my stomach and under the bottom of my shirt. He hooked the thin fabric with two fingers and pulled it up, over my boobs. I was wearing a seamless knit bra, white like my shirt. He stretched the shirt up until his hand was under my chin, staring hungrily at my tits. Then he twisted his hand, pulling the shirt tight under my armpits, and shook me to make my boobs jiggle. He liked that, judging from the look on his face.

"I'll do it," I said quietly, pushing his hand away and pulling the little cotton top over my head. I folded it and put it on the bed.

He stared at my bra for a second, then grabbed it in the center and yanked up on it until my tits popped free. His eyes went wide and he sucked in a quick breath. Guys always reacted that way when they saw them for the first time. Like I said, I've got great boobs, with big, pale pink areolas and nipples that turn up, like little ski jumps. I had tan lines from my bikini, white triangles framing pink nipples. He stared at my tits for a few seconds, like he was trying to decide which one to eat first.

"Arms up, Christine," he ordered, pulling the bra all the way over my head.

He dropped the bra on the floor and I reached for it. Folding it like my shirt seemed important for some reason. Instead, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into his lap. His boner was pressing against my back and it felt enormous.

"Take care of that later," he said. "First things first."

He put his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. He was really strong and I couldn't move. My legs and butt were squirming around a little. He cupped my boobs with his hands and massaged them hard, working my nipples with his fingers. God, he had big hands and his fingers were strong but soft and he was working my tits over like a pro. He pinched my left nipple with a thumb and finger and twisted it. I almost cried out, but the pain wasn't that bad. He pulled on it, stretching my boob, and little pangs like electricity shot through me and I got a funny feeling low in my stomach. I was trying stay quiet, but I moaned. I couldn't help it.

He buried his face against my neck and started to lick and kiss me behind the ear, where it's really sensitive. At the same time he started pinching and pulling on my right nipple too. Both of them were way hard now. I didn't want them to be that way, they just were. Then he bit my earlobe, hard enough to hurt just a little, and I moaned again.

"Christine, you are so fucking hot," he whispered, twisting my body around so I was facing him. Being pushed around like that had me feeling weird and disoriented. I was having trouble getting my breath. His face was close and he had a strange smile. He ran a fingertip around my mouth, then rubbed my lower lip. He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me forward. My mouth was still open, and before I knew it his tongue was like practically down my throat.

He ran it all around the inside of my mouth, groping, his lips pressing over mine really hard. He was licking all the spit out of my mouth, tasting me. As he pulled away he slid the band off my ponytail so my hair fell onto my shoulders. He smiled. I guess he liked it down. He had his hands on my upper arms and he rocked me back and forth a couple of times, watching the way my hair moved.

He pushed me forward, dropping his legs so I fell on the floor on my knees. He kept a tight grip on one of my shoulders and clamped his legs on my sides, so I was staring at his belt buckle. He undid it and then his slacks, shoving them down to his thighs. I started to panic. Until now I was the only one with any clothes off. I looked up at him to say something but nothing came out, and when I looked back down he had his underwear pulled down on his legs, too.

Holy shit! This guy had a huge dick! I'd never seen anything like it - long, and really thick, too. The head of it was big and shiny and wet and it was practically touching my tits. When I tried to back up, he grabbed the back of my head again and pulled my face down. I closed my eyes, but I could feel his cock, all warm and slippery, as he rubbed it across my cheeks, then my chin, then pushed it against my lips.

No fucking way! I agreed to ball this old guy but I didn't say anything about sucking his dick. I gave Richie Spaulding a blowjob once and I hated it. His wienie was tiny compared to this monster, and all I did was lick it a little and hold it in my mouth for a few seconds. And I made him go in the bathroom at a gas station first and wash it off. Then Richie started moaning and I couldn't even get out of the way fast enough before he was squirting off all over my clothes. It was my favorite blouse too and I had to throw it away. I could hardly put it in the hamper for my mom to find. She'd be like What's this on your blouse, Chrissy? and giving me that look. Like I cared what she did when she was my age.

I wanted to yell at the guy and tell him to forget it and to let go of me but I was afraid to open my mouth. So I shook my head.

"Open up, Christine," he said, opening his own mouth wide to show me, like I was a little kid who didn't want any carrots. "I'm not screwing around here. Remember your promise, I call the shots and you obey. Now open that sweet little mouth of yours."

I stared at him. He was squeezing my shoulder pretty hard and he was right about me promising. Maybe he would come really quick like Richie and then let me go home. So I opened my mouth up a little.

And just like that, he shoved it in and the head filled up my whole mouth. He was hard, but the skin was still incredibly soft and his dick tasted salty.

"That's better," he said, sighing with pleasure. "Now lick it... yeah, like that. All the way around,"

Like I had any choice but to lick it. I was trying to get my tongue out of the way. My jaw hurt and I had to flex it, but when I did he shoved more of his cock into me. Christ, it was practically in my throat and there was still a lot of it left. He had a tight handful of my hair, right against my scalp. I couldn't move my head at all.

"Good girl, Christine. Breathe through your nose or you'll choke... like that."

He pushed harder and I gagged. It felt like my jaw was going to break. I was like suffocating, even though I was sucking air in and out of my nose whenever I could. When his dick went back into my throat and I gagged I couldn't breathe at all. I was pushing on his knees with my hands, trying to back up so I could quit choking, but he was holding me too tight. And he was thrusting with his hips, slamming that huge dick in and out of my mouth faster and faster. This wasn't at all like with Richie Spaulding!

My lips were stretched tight to get around his shaft, but they were numb so I couldn't keep from drooling, what with that salty taste all inside my mouth. Spit was running down and hanging off my chin, then going all over my boobs.

"Yeah, baby. Suck me, Christine. Suck my dick."

I stared up at him, wanting to yell that I wasn't sucking anything. He moved his hand from my shoulder to the top of my head and pushed me down some more, holding my head with both hands. My legs were twitching from kneeling and my arms were sore but I kept trying to pull away. God! I just needed to breathe!

He shoved his cock in harder a couple of times, getting into my throat, but I wasn't gagging as much anymore. Probably because I was so faint.