Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
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Soul SearchChapter 5: Two For The Road free porn video
"Hey Lou. Hand me that bottle of whisky, will ya..." Art requested of Louie from the back seat. He had unwrapped his hand and was examining the damage made by the razor. "Not to bad. Could have been a lot worse if not for my jacket," he thought.
Louie reached across the seat and handed the bottle of Jack Daniel's to Art.
Art opened the bottle and poured a liberal amount of amber liquid onto the tee shirt substituting as a bandage before he re-wrapped his hand.
"How's it look Art?" Louie asked glancing at Art in the rear view mirror.
Art took several long pulls on the bottle before answering. "Ya know, I remember an old cowboy movie I saw once as a kid. In it was this tough ass cowboy by the name of Lash Laroo I think. Well, in this movie old Lash gets plugged in the shoulder with a Colt .44, and when his sidekick ask's him how he was doing he simply answered, 'ain't nothing but a flesh wound Pard.' Well, this ain't nothing but a flesh wound Pard."
Karen sat scrunched up in one corner of the back seat considering her situation for the hundredth time. She felt that, for the moment, she was probably safe but after these men had their way with her, it would undoubtedly be different. The realization struck her that even now that all initial shock had worn off, she didn't feel a great deal of remorse over Rory's death. Her indifferent feelings about Rory were a little puzzling, and she wasn't sure if it were due to her current concern for her own life, or because he hadn't meant that much to her in the first place. She remembered the man named Art calling Rory a punk, and after two months with him, she probably felt the same way about him. Rory was big and looked real tough, but all the while they were on the road, he hadn't done Jack-shit. She had been the one to get what little money they could scrounge, and it was her, out of sheer desperation who had asked her uncle to take them in knowing full well what he expected her to do for him in return. Yeah over time, she concluded she had lost a lot of feelings and respect for Rory, and that was why she was so indifferent.
She took a sideways glance at Art, from profile, he resembled her father even more than before, and that was very unsettling. Memory of her father was the one thing she couldn't deal with. Through sheer will power alone she managed to push those images and thoughts aside knowing how important it was that she concentrate on her current dilemma.
From overheard scrapes of conversations between Art and the other man called Louie, Karen had pieced together that they must have done some kind of a robbery in New York City and that the police were currently looking for them. That robbery had netted them a great deal of money, which was tucked away inside two brief cases in the trunk along with Rory's body. She had gotten that information when Art verbally chastised Louie for getting Rory's blood all over the money bags.
She felt the odds of staying alive were much better if she could keep these men sexually interested in her. A lot of women believed the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, Karen knew, from experience it was actually through his penis. She had learned, and used that to her advantage, that and the fact that most women were only willing to suck a man's organ before marriage. After marriage, putting a cock into one's mouth would suddenly become something disgusting only whores did. Karen knew most married men wanted, and would go to great lengths to get a blow job, and she'd taken advantage of that by sucking men's cocks when it could get her something she needed.
One such a man had been her high school math teacher. He was married to a typical, 'that filthy thing is not going in my mouth' wife, and when Karen desperately needed a passing grade, she had sucked him off right under his classroom desk after class. Not only had she gotten the grade she needed but nice gifts, whenever they went to some out of town motel for an hour or two of fucking and sucking. At first he always used a rubber whenever he fucked her, but after a while he set up an appointment for her at some doctor's office, claiming she was his daughter, and he got her a prescription for birth control pills, which he paid for himself, so he could fuck her bareback.
It was during one of those motel sessions that Karen for the first time had had the opportunity to watch a real porno movie. That movie furnished Karen with a worthy education in the art of great cock sucking. Karen decided to take full advantage of that education in her current predicament. She also knew most guys loved listening to a woman talk like a filthy slut during sex. The more a woman used words such as cock, cunt, pussy, suck, dick, fuck, and so on, the more turned on the guy became. Although, very few women ever used the "C" word, Karen wasn't in the least opposed to using the word 'cunt'.
She turned to her left looking at Art. "If you want me too, I'll suck your cock." She told him in a sultry voice.
"Huh?" Art looked over at her confused.
"Your hand looks like it hurts. I bet if I sucked you off it'd take some of the pain away. I'll give you some of the best head you ever had." She ran her tongue seductively over her lips.
"Jesus Christ! What the fuck are you? Some kind of little whore or something?" Art wrinkled his nose.
"No I'm not!" She answered him defiantly. "I'm just a girl who wants to stay alive. I'm so scared I could pee my pants right now. Back there I told you I'd be nice to you if you didn't hurt me. So far, you haven't hurt me, and I'm just keeping to my end of the bargain. I know most men like women to talk slutty to them when they ... well you know. Listen, I'll do anything you want, just don't hurt me. Here, I'll show you how willing I am." She opened her shirt exposing her breasts. "Remember, you said you liked my boobs. Well, here look at them. Do you still like um?"
"Yeah! Shit! I still like um." He said reaching over and pinching her nipple with his good hand. "What's your name, and how the hell old are you anyway."
"Karen, and I'm seventeen ... I'm not a ... a virgin though..." She attempted to look shy. " ... but I'm close to one. Rory ... you know that guy you ... well you know. He's the only one that I ever went all the way with and ... and I only let him go all the way with me a couple of times ... it's so ... you know ... so personal and all."
"Fuck me. Just a second ago you were asking to suck my cock, now you're telling me you've only been screwed a couple of times, I don't know. It's fucking weird. What the hell is some seventeen-year old kid doing out in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere with dumb-fuck no one anyway?" Art took a little time hefting her globes feeling their weight.
Karen's voice took on the quality of young adolescent innocents. "He was just some guy who helped me get away from home. My mom died a few years ago," she bit down on her lower lip, "and when I turned seventeen, that was three months ago, my dad came into my bedroom and told me that at seventeen a girl turns into a woman, and that her father should be the first to take her. He told me that was so she wouldn't be lured away by the first young stud with a hard on. Well ... He ... He tried to rape me." She paused momentarily as if recalling a horrid incident then continued. "But he was pretty drunk that night and I managed to get away from him. After that I ran away. I couldn't stand the thought of my own father ... you know ... doing that kinda stuff to me." She paused again, took a deep breath then continued. "We ... me and Rory were on our way to hook up with that evangelist preacher guy down in Arkansas ... that ... ah ... Reverend Bishop or something like that, you know that guy they've been talking so much about on the TV and radio, the one that's been healing all those people and stuff. Well ... then the truck broke down, and here I am." As she told him the fabricated story she reached into her jeans pocket and took out two elastic hair bands. She parted her hair and tied two equally sized ponytails each one banded just above her ears. She knew how much men lusted after young girls, and Karen in ponytails, (were it not for her well developed breasts), looked like she could be twelve or thirteen years old.
"Jesus!" Art said almost astounded. "If it wasn't for these tits of yours, I swear you were a fucking kid. Shit! How big are these baby's anyway?' He asked hefting her breasts one at a time again.
"Thirty-two or thirty-three B ... maybe C. I've never worn a bra, so I'm not really sure. Some girls develop a lot earlier than others. They were almost this big when I was twelve." She paused and took his hand into hers and squeezed it gently, then looking directly into his eyes with as much sincerity as she could fake she said, "So ... do you want me to give you that blow job or not?" She noticed a tent forming in the crotch of his pants, and she knew he was getting turned on.
Trisha
- 29.03.2022
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