Dirty Deviant Spirit, 2

By | February 23, 2011

brunette in latexAmy slipped her arms around Anthony’s waist underneath his coat. With one hand resting hard against her shoulders and the other in the small of her back he pulled her hard against his own body, her stomach pressed against his hardening crotch.

She seemed an inexperienced kisser, his invading tongue almost a surprise to her as it pushed its way over the battlement of her teeth. He found her a quick learner too, repulsing his onslaught with almost equal force. Teacher and pupil engaged in the lesson of deep kissing for a while, the world around them was calm and bid them not to hurry. Amy’s enthusiasm grew, indeed it was Anthony who eventually pulled away, the kiss leaving them both breathless.

They were invigorated, eyes alive, sparkling. Anthony’s heart beat loud in his chest. To know a woman wanted him was exciting enough but she was, well, something else. She seemed to have an innocence he had never encountered before, coupled with an intensity of feeling that he felt in his mind rather than perceived with his five senses.

Anthony looked around them, his hands still on Amy’s waist. They were on one side of a wide valley, fields filled the valley bottom within which nestled a small town. They stood in a clearing between the gorse that grew on the steeper slopes, shielded from the sight of all but the occasional bird that flew overhead. The ground was covered in soft grass, punctuated with small outcrops of rock.

He lay Amy on her back on the soft grass, propped up on one arm the other around her. He leant in to kiss her, his hand automatically straying to her breasts, feeling her hard nipples under her, her what would you call it? cotton blousy thing? He realise something was wrong, he did not belong to her. Then the moment passed as she arched her back pressing her soft mound into his palm. His hand strayed inside, touching her flesh finding a nipple and rolling it around the areola.

His hand strayed downward and into her bloomers, his middle finger delved into her thick bush of hair, hot and humid. He found her wet folds and slowly traversed the length of her pussy before returning to her clitoris. Anthony toyed with her for a moment, stroking her swollen clit, savouring the power he had over her as she bucked and writhed.

Then he drew his glistening finger to his mouth, tasting her essence. She looked shocked for a moment then, with his finger still in his mouth she kissed him, tongue demanding a share of the fragrant delicacy.

His breeches were bursting, and feeling her hands unfastening the buttons of his flies was almost a relief. She reached inside to coax out his stiff cock and its two companions, drawn up tight beneath it. She held it, exploring its soft skin, obviously excited by its hardness. her fingers drew back his foreskin, exposing his glans. Clear pre-cum oozed out. Anthony lifted a drop with his finger and placed it on her lips. Taken with this new tase she slid down and licked him, cleaning him of the clear nectar, eventually probing the tip with her tongue.

She rolled on to her back and removed her bloomers. Anthony rolled on top of her and pressed his cock against her pussy, rubbing it along the length of her lips, balls nestling into her moist curly nest. They watched each other intently, studying each reaction to every movement. While she enjoyed the touch of him against her labia, her true desire was written in her eyes. He wanted it too and so slowly drew back before resting himself at the smouldering entrance to her sex.

He pushed forward, every millimetre forming a deeper union between them. They held each other tight, Anthony having to rotate his hips to thrust into her. She began to moan, soft and joyous at first but soon louder and more insistent. Her hand reached behind Anthony’s neck and pulled him to her lips, her kiss open-mouthed and frantic. Anthony felt her hips rising to meet him, her heels digging into the turf allowing her to push her pelvis hard toward him.

She broke their kiss and began to shriek, Anthony’s final thrusts let loose what seemed like a river of cum, rippling along his cock inside her pulsing sex. “Amy …” was all he could say in one long quiet breath to the smiling angel below him.

He lay on top of her feeling himself soften inside, but not wanting to withdraw from her tender comforting embrace.

“AMY! AMMEEEYYY!” A man’s voice pierced their post-coital bubble.

“Father!” Amy exclaimed, her face terrified.


“Quickly, hide.” She urged him, gathering her dress and attempting to pull it on.

It was too late. A tall man built like an ox strode out of the surrounding gorse, a look of fiery malice on his face. “Slut!” he spat the word at Amy, then turned to Anthony who was attempting to button his breeches. Amy’s father raised his hand to strike Anthony, but as the blow fell Amy appeared between them. The huge hand struck Amy across her face, throwing her to the ground. She collapsed like a rag doll, head landing with a sickening dull thud on an exposed rock.

Both men stood looking down at Amy’s motionless form as blood began to flow from one of her perfect ears.

Anthony opened his mouth to shout “No!”, but at that moment the world seemed wreathed in a grey fog. The fog thickened and he seemed to be drawn away from Amy and her father. Soon they disappeared into the mist and an inky darkness took Anthony.


The cry echoed through the undercroft, breaking the “trance” that the show’s psychic had just slipped into. The female presenter stopped mid-gush and, for the first time in the show’s history, looked genuinely frightened. This wasn’t a hammed-up scream, it was full of desperation and fear.

When they reached the chamber where Anthony lay the cast and crew stood for a moment in silent shock. One of the celebs started sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh fuck, I think he’s dead!” Observed the psychic, then earned himself the prize for the day’s dumbest question. “Do you think we ought to call the police?”

“You think?” Mocked the presenter and began to make a mental list of newspapers who would pay for this story when the inquest was over.


Anthony slowly regained consciousness. He felt cold at first, bloody cold, then a strange sort of warmth filled him, and as it did the darkness gave warm to a dim glow. It strengthened second by second until he could make out a figure. It was Amy. She held out a hand, “Come with me Anthony.”

“After what happened last time?”

“This time it will be just us.” she took his hand. “Forever.”