With their house burned down, Elizabeth and her father were forced to lodge with relatives until they could find more permanent residence. In practical terms, this meant that with Elizabeth on the other side of town, and presumably sleeping in a room with a cousin, he no longer had easy access to her pussy. This was to go on for several weeks as police and arson experts investigated the crime. Sam chilled in terror at the thought of them connecting him with the blaze. He was sure he'd covered his tracks well enough, but he could never be sure. It was just a waiting game now.
But Sam did not remain idle.
It was summer and the lake was only about 40 or so minute's drive away. Lots of hot highschool and college vixens soaked up the sun in the lazy summer afternoons, soaking themselves with oil as they soaked up the rays, strutting their stuff while boys openly gaped and men slyly stared invisibly behind their sunglasses. Sam convinced his parents to allow him access to one of the family vehicles. His mom didn't need the extra one, the van, during the summer vacation, so they deemed Sam responsible enough to while away his afternoons driving the van around town. They gave him a small increase in allowance for gas money, even.
When he got to the beach, it was if Sam were beamed up by Scotty into heaven. Hordes of scantily clad women everywhere, and half of them were hot enough to cause his shorts to embarrassingly expand horizontally in the front. He had to get rid of this problem. He hit upon a solution. Lots of girls floated around in the lake on their rubber rafts. All he had to do was stealthily sneak close enough to one so that he could get her good in his sights. He had to make sure both that she was asleep and couldn't notice him, and that no one else was around in easy sight, to see what he was craftily up to. When he found a suitably sexy target, he'd let himself stare with hard intensity at her smooth, tanned legs, or slim, flattened belly, or the rise and curve of her horizontally flattened breasts, or baby-sleeping face, or whatever turned him on, and then he'd reach down into his shorts and begin to masturbate. Relief. The girls should be thankful that I'm only doing this to myself. They should be grateful that I'm only getting myself off harmlessly this way, instead of forcing myself on them, as my body screams for me to do.
He noticed that some other guys were doing it, too. One day he noticed a particularly foxy brunette laying out in front of where the cars parked, overlooking the sand dunes. He also noticed a pair of guys sitting in a monster truck, parked directly behind her. They were two fat guys in duck hats, real disgusting examples of so-called humanity, who would obviously never have even a remote chance of getting laid with that foxy chick. He watched as they watched the chick, huge clownish smiles on their faces, overhearing them groan in pain and clownish excitement, "Aww, ma-an, aw gee-od, look at that GIRL," and though from a distance he swore he could see their shoulders moving up and down, as they grimaced and stared at the chick with a furious intensity.....he could figure out what they were doing. When one of the guys slumped back and went, "ooooooo...." in pain relief, Sam knew for certain. He hoped they'd clean it up before they drove off. Pedals can get sticky, especially on a stickshift.
The brunette was something else. Sam would have to keep an eye on her. Find out where she lived and everything. He was thinking about stealthily following her car home, but she stayed at the beach too long, and Sam had to go home himself too soon. There was always tomorrow, or next week, or whenever she'd show up again.
Sam didn't have to wait too long. He was so excited that nearly at the crack of dawn, he lept out of bed to drive the van to the beach. He had breakfast in the van as he waited for the sunbathing beauties to show up. He was the first person at the beach. It was a weekday and in the morning, so not many people were probably going to show up that day. The beach was eerily deserted in these early post-dawn hours. Until the first person showed up. Sam couldn't believe his luck. It was her.
She pulled her car up and stepped out, laying her towel on the grass overlooking the dunes. Sam was wading in the water and peered at her through the sunglasses. It was too bad that he wasn't closer, so he could get a better look as she stripped off her shirt and shorts and shimmied down into nothing but her bikini. It was a checkered bikini, black and white. She walked down into the dunes, towards the water. Her breasts shimmered and jiggled as she walked. Such large, luscious breasts. Girls with large, natural (non-silicone!) breasts have that little wiggle and sway in their chest when they walk, the kind that drove Sam delirious with desire. One way or the other, he HAD to have her. She came to the water and waded in waist deep, trailing her lithe fingers along the water's surface. She scooped up some water and splashed it over her chest. Sam almost came in his shorts right then and there when he saw that, saw the water trickle down her soft bosom glowing in the sunshine. She glanced over at Sam. Sam smiled. She let a little smile, just a little one, back, and left the water, returning to her towel in the grass.
Sam stood paralyzed for several minutes, staring at her, wondering what to do. As she dozed on the grass, Sam rose out of the water and walked over to where she was. She didn't notice he was there. He circled around her, his jaw hanging open, gorging his eyeballs upon every nook and cranny of her body, from her raven hair hanging over her ears to her red-painted toenails. She was gorgeous, she was perfect. Sam had to do something. So he sat down beside her and said, "Hi."
"Hi," she replied.
Sam tried to think of something more to say, but he couldn't. They were the only two people on the beach. Here was this absolutely gorgeous girl, and he was all alone with her. Think, Sam, think! But all he could gulp out was, "My name's Sam."
"So's mine. I'm Sam. Samantha," she added.
"You go to highschool here?"
"Yeah, I go to Laketown."
"I go to Meadows," Sam said. He kept thinking of something interesting or funny to say, to hook this girl in, but his mind kept going blank. He said a few more things, but it was just inane small talk, and he could tell that she was getting bored, or annoyed, or something, with him. She thought that Sam was cute, probably, but he could tell that she wasn't interested in him after meeting him, obviously. Sam couldn't think of what to do. He wanted to get this girl. Honestly, if possible. He wouldn't rape her. He'd get into her pants, honest. No tricks.
But then Sam made a fatal mistake.
Sam told her that he was going to swim again, so he jumped up and ran into the water. After a while of this, he thought that maybe he could get her to join him and maybe they'd horse around, splashing each other in the water, and they'd play-fight, their bodies touching in slapstick, and slowly with more repeated body contact she'd get turned on, too, and then when the moment was right, he'd grab her tight in his arms and amidst the giggling he'd swoop his lips down and kiss her, and after that it was be all history. So Sam walked out of the water and called for her to come in and join him. Samantha cheerily smiled and got up, ready to go. Sam was walking in the sand dunes towards her, not realizing the danger. As she began to descend the steps to the dunes, she was smiling, until halfway down the steps she looked down at Sam and gasped. Sam realized to his horror that she'd spotted his hard-on. It was long and poking at her through his shorts. Her right foot was halfway down a stairstep before she turned it around and started walking right back up the steps, a look of fright and disgust on her face.
It wasn't fair! She was drop-dead gorgeous and half-naked in a bikini! Of course Sam had a hard-on! He wouldn't be human if he didn't! She had no reason to be so upset! He couldn't help his natural biology!
"Where are you going?" Sam exasperatedly asked, his voice dripping with shame and sadness.
"To the bathroom," Samantha replied, and slowly sauntered off, her buttocks swaying in the breeze as her sandals stoked the asphalt.
Sam had no choice. He followed, catching up, and shadowing her every footstep as she walked on. She did her best to ignore him, not acknowledging his presence. When they got to the restroom area, there were four restrooms, two each for men and women. One each of the men's and women's had a sign in front that said, "Out of order", with orange cans blocking entry. Samantha entered the women's restroom that was in order. Sam stood outside for a minute or two, and suddenly he came up with a great plan. He moved the out of order sign from the other women's restroom, along with the can, and put them in front of the restroom that Samantha was using. That way, even if someone else came along to the beach and wanted to use the restroom, they wouldn't be bothered. It was like putting a big "Do Not Disturb" sign in front of the restroom. Sam opened the door and locked it from the inside. He waited until Samantha was finished in her stall, hiding in the corner.
As she stood in front of the mirror looking over her face, Sam crept up behind her and folded his arms around her torso and said, "Hi."
She startled like a gamine deer. "Can't I get some privacy?"
"No," cooed Sam, "You too fine for me to just leave alone." And with those words, Sam started pecking kisses on the back of her neck and shoulders. His cock was rubbing, through his shorts, against the asscrack of her bikini pants. He cupped his hands over her large, soft, but firm, sooo perfect breasts. Best breasts he'd ever felt up. He removed one hand and fimbled around her back, snipping the bikini strap off of there, and then around her neck, snipping the bikini strap there, and her bikini top fell off. Sam licked her neck and turned her around. Oh my god, are her tits sooo.......Sam kissed one and then the other. Samantha whimpered, "Please stop." Sam only looked up and brought his mouth onto hers, slathering his tongue inside hers.
"I've never even kissed a boy," Samantha cried. "I've never had a boyfriend."
"Well, looks like you got a boyfriend now," Sam grinned.
"Please don't hurt me, please," Samantha shivered, despite the heat of the summer's day. Despite her amazing beauty, she was a very shy girl who didn't like to talk to people very much, and had never even gone out with a boy. The boys at her highschool thought she was stuckup because she had rejected every boy that made an approach, but the truth was that she actually really wanted a boyfriend, but was too scared of boys to do anything about it. So, what Sam was doing to her now, was something that she had been secretly wanting for a long, long time - for some man to seize her in his arms and just take her. So deeply secret that she half didn't realize it herself.
Sam instinctively realized this, because of her total lack of resistance, and the shy but passionate way that she returned his kisses. "I promise I won't hurt you," Sam replied gently, "I'm going to make you feel good. Just do as I do and do as I say, and everything's going to be allright. I'm a nice guy." With that, he bent down and slid off her bikini pants, at the same time allowing his shorts to drop. Now two sweaty naked bodies writhed together. Sam lay down on the tiles and pulled her down, her body on top of him, and as she lay on top, he maneuvered her so that she was in position, and her entered her. She was soaking wet. Slickly, oilily, smoothly, glisteningly, gushingly wet. That, combined with her gorgeousness as Sam gazed up at those juicious mammaries drooping over his face, caused Sam to explode with all that morning's pent-up lust within barely a minute or two. "You amaze me," Sam whispered in her ear in awe as she collapsed on top of him. They cuddled for a few minutes, as Sam began building up again for Round Two.
Sam had come so much that as she got up to stand, little white drops were dripping on to the floor from her pussy. Embarrassed, she reached down and pulled her bikini pants back on to staunch the flow. As she snapped back on her bikini bra top, Sam likewise slipped on his shorts, continuing to glare at her open-mouthed, his eyes roving all over her body. The sex had only taken less than two minutes and because it was rushed too soon it definitely wasn’t satisfying, not for Sam, nor did he suspect for her. Sam still wasn’t experience much with women, but he knew that much, that two minutes wasn’t even beginning to get her off, that he would need to ram into her, repeatedly, for a lot longer than that. And that’s exactly what he was going to do, just as soon as he could raise an erection again. Which would be 5, maybe 10 minutes at the most. He could use that time to find a more suitable spot for lovemaking than the cold, hard restroom tiles. God, what a body. Even limp as he was, his eyes were still hard and full of cum, roving over her perfectly cupped breasts, shapely rump, long smooth tanned legs, tight smooth belly, sweet smile on a pretty face. And she was his. All his. He’d conquered that goal. He’d staked his claim on virgin lands. His dick had gone where no dick had gone before. He’d marked his territory with the scent of his semen.
“I’m sorry,” Sam apologized. “This isn’t a good place. Let’s go somewhere else. We can lay out in the sun together. Maybe go swimming together. But not on that beach. There are too many other people there to watch us. Let’s take a car and drive to some place along the lake where we can get some privacy. Uh, your car or mine?”
Samantha didn’t know how to respond. Her thoughts, feelings, sensations were confused. She had just been touched by a boy for the first time. Not just touched, but kissed, not just kissed, but entered intimately. Though she had been taken against her will, she couldn’t say that she didn’t enjoy the feeling of having a hard cock pulsating inside of her. She didn’t know this boy and was afraid of him for taking her so bluntly without any regard for her wishes. But there was a raw animal magnetism she couldn’t deny. Women, all women, at a subconscious level, are drawn to strong, forceful men like Sam who make no bones about what they want and take it. Women don’t feel any raw, animal desire for limp-dicked PC pussies who ‘respect a woman’s boundaries’; deep down, women want to be seized by the hair and thrown onto the ground and fucked their brains out, long and hard, with primal passionate spontaneity. That is why Samantha, after a moment of confused cringing crossing her face, looking down at a feet sadly, suddenly but slowly reared her head up and flashed a smile, and in a soft half-whisper excitedly replied, “Yes. Yes, Sam. Yes.”
They took Sam’s van and drove around in the woods around the lake for a long time, circling around through all the backroads, past the campers and boaters, until they found a spot that seemed relatively isolated and safe from prying eyes. Sam and Samantha walked over to a small glen far from the road and finding an open bit of clearing between the trees, spread their towels next to each other to soak up the sun.
“Got the suntan lotion?” Sam asked. Samantha handed it to him. He was about to rub it over his body when he had a flash of inspiration. “Why don’t you help me out? I’ll rub it over you if you rub it over me.” So Samantha squeezed a jizz of oil into her hands and started slowly rubbing it over Sam’s chest and back. It was such an incredible feeling, have her soft hands sliding over his body with her soft touch, that Sam felt like he was going to cum in his shorts. Then another flash of genius hit Sam’s brain, lodged firmly in his little head between his crotch. “Nobody can see us from the road here,” Sam leered as he slipped off his shorts. “Why don’t you take off yours, too?” Samantha obliged. “You haven’t finished,” Sam reminded, and turned around so that she could apply the lotion to his legs and now bare ass. She grew more excited, thrilling to the time when it would be her turn and Sam would put his hands on her body samewise.
“Only one part of my body left to go,” Sam informed her.
“But you don’t want suntan lotion on that! Won’t it hurt?” she replied.
“You’re not going to put suntan lotion on it,” Sam wickedly gleamed, “You’re going to slick it up with something else.” With that, Sam lay down and beckoned her to crouch down as well, her face between his knees. “Just play with it with your hands a little and then lick it.” She gulped squeamishly. “Ah, don’t be like that. Just try it a little and see you’ll like it.” She tenderly stroked his balls and cock with the barest tinkle of her fingertips, the lightness of touch sending Sam into paroxysms of pleasure, but not orgasm yet. She took a deep breath and reluctantly pressed her lips against his cock, merely pecking it with the tips of her lips at first, until finally steeling herself beyond her trepidation and going all the way with a hot, juicy, slathering French kiss. Sam was right. This was fun. She twisted her tongue around, licking and stroked it from the left and right and center and up and down and everywhere in between, until Sam could hold back no longer.
“Gggguuhhhhhgggghhhhh!” Sam howled and hot white liquid suddenly took her unawares, flowing past her lips, over her teeth, and down her throat in a rapid-fire gush. She couldn’t stand the taste but bravely swallowed her medicine anyway. For the second time that day, Sam had came, and while that may have emptied more mortal of a man, there was plenty more where that came from, because we’re talking about the one and only Sam Straper. It only gave him breathing space between rounds.
They collapsed on the towels and dozed off. Samantha hadn't expended much energy at all. All that heavy petting had only energized her more. She rolled her head over and glanced at Sam's body with hungerous lust. Her torso rose and heaved up and down with every heavy breath. She couldn't take it any more. She rolled her body over, on top of Sam's, her arms embracing him as she slapped hard licks of kisses upon him. Sam woke up and instinctively rolled her over. Now he was on top. They kissed and rolled their hands over each other's bodies for several minutes, a luxurious eternity. But Sam wasn't quite ready yet.
"Let's go for a swim," Sam suggested. So they did. As they lapped around in the water, slowly the gravity of lust pulled their bodies back together in embrace, and they kissed in the lake, their arms wrapped around each other. "Ain't nobody around to see," Sam observed, "No reason to keep these on." He reached down and pulled his shorts off, balled them up, and flung them on the shore. Samantha giggled and snapped off her bikini top, and then her bikini bottom, and did the same. Now two naked bodies blissfully cavorted in the water, oblivious to all around them. Even if another person had stumbled upon them and saw what they were doing, they wouldn't have noticed, so wrapped up in each other they were. The slick wetness Sam felt when stroking her smooth body felt good. It rose again. Sam grunted. He didn't need words. He grabbed her around the ass and pulled her up out of the water and onto the shore. He laid her down on the towels. This time he didn't come too soon. He slid in and out of her, over and over, until she, too, began moaning in ecstacy, until with a shrill, loud squeak, she experienced her first orgasm. She'd never even masturbated before. She had no clue how good a body could feel. Sam had showed her the way. Sam was a good teacher. The lesson taught, Sam allowed himself to release the essence of his soul, as well, pouring himself into her.
They made love three more times that day. Five glorious times that day, Sam had came. For the first time in his life, he felt spent and satisfied. He dropped Samantha off at her car and hungrily gave her one last kiss. "I'll show you were I live," Samantha said. He followed her car with his van. As she got out, she beckoned Sam to get out as well. "My parents are home. I can't kiss you out here right now," she said. "I can meet you tomorrow. Same place."
"Oh yeah," replied Sam. "Yes! Tomorrow! Omigod I am so happy!"
"I am too!" answered Samantha, and despite the danger, planted a big, sloppy kiss on Sam. She didn't think her parents saw.
The next three weeks were the happiest of Sam's life. Every day they met and every day they made love several times, rolling around together in the hot sun in absolute ecstacy. Sam was in love. So was Samantha. He had finally found paradise. Everything he could want. He would never have to rape again, not now that he had a beautiful, willing partner who could satisfy his every need. It was too good to be true. It was too good to last.
And it was.
One afternoon Sam and Samantha were frolicking upon her bed. Her parents were supposed to be gone that day. Her father came home early. He heard the lovers bouncing and shaking in Samantha's bedroom. "Samantha!" he shouted. But she and Sam were so involved within each other that neither heard the warning shout of danger. Her father knocked on the door. No answer. He opened the door.
"Why you.....!" her father howled as he caught Sam and Samantha, both naked, Sam on top of her, pumping furiously. Sam jumped up and bolted for the window, not even bothering to pick up his clothes. Survival instinct took over. He crawled out and collapsed on the lawn, naked. Her father was close behind - with a shotgun. Sam fled, running nude, towards the woods. For the first but not the last time, Sam was being chased away from a woman by an angry man with a gun. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his buttocks and collapsed. Sam had been shot. Shot in the butt.
"That takes care of him," Samantha's father, Fred, said with cold satisfaction. He turned away from the window and towards Samantha, gazing down upon her gorgeous, curvaceous, naked body, glistening with sweat and fear. A bulge arose within Fred's crotch. For, you see, Fred was not her biological father, but stepfather. "I've been waiting! Waiting for years!" Fred ranted at her. She didn't understand. "Please, Daddy, please," she pathetically pleaded.
"Girl, you are a woman now," Fred surveyed her body with cold lust. He'd observed that little girl's body slowly sculpt curves and bud breasts, transforming into a beautiful woman. And just as slowly, he had bided his time. Now, that pimple-faced, greasy-limbed monkey of a teenage boy had ruined years of patience and preparation. Fred had waited, waited for the right moment to take his right as a father and man and deflower Samantha, the prize virgin. A man works hard, goes to work day in day out, 8 hours a day 5 days a week, to see his paycheck support people other than himself called his family, and for what reward? The ingratitude. He'd done his best to rear Samantha right and refused to allow her any boyfriends. The last time he'd caught one of the neighbor boys coming round, trying his slimey little best to sniff round her panties, he'd learned that boy. He'd pounded the shit out of him and warned him to warn all the other boys in the neighborhood and school, "Hands off my daughter!" That was one reason why, gorgeous and willing as she was, Samantha had never had a boyfriend before Sam came along and swept her off her painted toes. Fred kept a vigilant watch and scared all the boys away. Also, Fred taught her to fear boys, psychologically browbeating her into an unnatural shyness, so that he could better dominate her. Fred would unnaturally stifle and dominate her so much that, when the time came for Fred to show to her what it was that made Fred a man and thus carry her over the bridge from girl to woman, she would submit with a struggle or whimper.
But after meeting Sam, she had changed. Sam had awakened the woman within her. Stirred up passions she never knew she had. Love does that to you. Gives you backbone. There was only one man in the world for her now, and that was Sam. Never again would she blindly submit to her stepfather's bullying.
Fred unstrapped his belt. At first she thought that he was going to spank her with the belt. It had been years since he'd done that and she was no longer a child, but that's all that she could think of why he was taking off his belt. "I ain't gonna tell your mama what you done with that boy," Fred negotiated, "Long as you don't tell her or NOBODY what we gonna do right now."
As Fred flung off his shirt and dropped his trousers to the floor, too late she realized what he was going to do. She screamed as he lept on top of her, crushing her with his weight. "It was supposed to be me! Me! ME! Not that ugly, stupid, sleazy little BOY!" Fred ranted in outrage. Fred began licking her face, trying to kiss her, but she kept turning her mouth away, her lips dodging his lips. He quickly grew frustrated. His dick was long, wrinkly, aged like cedar but hard. Still, she locked her legs tight and refused him entry. She fought back wildly, slashing at his face with her nails, kicking against him with her free legs. "You goddamn bitch!" Fred snarled and slapped her hard. He realized that he was going to have to use violence and strength to force her into submission this time. Fred punched her in the stomach and she reflexively recoiled, giving Fred the maneuvering time to pry her legs open and keep them open. His stiffwood was moments away from entry. But she kept fighting back all the way, wriggling her knees and hips to force his thighs backward. But she was fighting a valiant but losing struggle. Closer and closer his cock crawled towards her the walls of her vagina. It was only a matter of time before Fred's dick would reach the door and kick it open. "Noooooooooo!!!!!" Samantha screamed in unholy indignation. "Sam! Help!"
Meanwhile, Sam lay face down on the grass, stunned by the shock of being shot. Slowly he realized that he could move, and slower still that he could stand up. He reached behind and felt his butt, where he had been wounded. It still stung, but.....no blood. No blood? No blood! Sam hadn't been wounded at all. Samantha's father must have, in his haste, forgotten to load the gun. What Sam had felt had been the slap of cold air. An airgun! With a start he heard Samantha's screams of protest. He could either run away to safety, or rescue the woman he loved. Not much of a decision.
Fred didn't feel much after the shock of the first impact when the butt of the gun crashed down against his head. A gush of blood sprouted from his skull and mixed like greasy oil in his greyish-brown hair, and his body lolled over and hit the floor. Samantha was trembling, crying. Sam held her. "It's alright now. I'm here."
After several minutes of calming her down, they surveyed the situation. "What are we going to do now?" Samantha asked.
"I guess we're just going to wait until your mom comes home and tell her what happened. And then I guess we're going to have to talk to the police," Sam answered her. He didn't know what to do, either. Fred looked like he would be unconscious for another several hours. Maybe they should call an ambulance first, to see about Fred. No. Sam wanted to kill the pervert, and so did Samantha. If he dies accidentally because of that blow on the head, then fuck him. Territorial rage flared in Sam's heart. Primal instinct to protect his woman kicked in. It was all Sam could do to keep himself from getting up, loading that gun with a real bullet, and finishing the job.
Samantha's mother arrived nearly an hour later. Sam and Samantha approached her at the door and told her what happened, showing her the unsconscious body of Fred.
"You did this to my husband?" her mother asked Fred pointedly.
"It was self-defense," he replied.
"I want you to go," she said, "Now. Get out! I said, get out!"
"Alright," Sam said, "What about Samantha?"
"She'll be OK," she replied, "I'll make sure that he never lays a hand on her again. That bastard." She sneered down at Fred and spat on his body.
Reassured, Sam began to leave the house. He turned to Samantha to say goodbye. They walked out onto the porch. "I love you," Sam said. "I don't ever want anyone to ever hurt you ever again. I want to be with you forever. Always."
"Me, too," Samantha echoed, small tears rolling down her eyes. "Don't go. Hold me."
Sam held her and gave her one final kiss before leaving.
Little did he know, but that was the last kiss he would ever give her.
The next day Sam returned to Samantha's house. He didn't see any cars in the driveway. He knocked on the door. No answer. Rang the doorbell. Nothing. He yelled at the top of his lungs, "Samantha! Samantha!" He peeped in the windows. The rooms were stripped bare. Very little furniture left. TV gone. CD player gone. Posters and flower vases gone. Nothing left. Bewildered, he ran to the closest neighbor's house and asked them where Samantha's family had gone. They couldn't tell him anything. They didn't know, either. He ran around the neighborhood frantically, asking everyone at every door. No one could give him much help.
"They came from California, before they moved here," one neighbor informed Sam. "Maybe they went back."
That wasn't much of a lead. California was a big state. And maybe they hadn't gone to California at all. Maybe they'd gone to Connecticut or Canada or Cuba, for all Sam knew. But it was the only lead Sam had.
Sam trembled in outrage. He howled, he screamed, he threw rocks in the road, stomped up and down, and cried. He did a lot of crying. It wasn't fair. For once he had something good, something great. He might have even married that girl. And now she was gone. You get something good in this world and as soon as you get it, they take it away from you. It wasn't fair. He swore he'd find her, somehow, someway. But it was a big, big world and he had no idea where to even start looking.
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