J. Watson - Gang-raped sisters

Beverly Parham loved to ride. She loved riding more than she loved to do anything else. She would take her horse out to the field every chance she got.

But today she was riding for a different reason and she was just a little excited.

She was going to meet Wayne Brown. She knew what kind of boy Wayne was. Her parents had warned her against Wayne from the first moment they'd seen him. They thought he was vulgar and mean. Even her friends warned Beverly about him. They told her that only bad girls went out with him and he only went with a girl for one reason.

But Beverly was a hard girl to convince once she'd made up her mind about a person.

And she liked Wayne!

He was so good-looking with his dark, unruly hair and his blue eyes and the way his muscles bulged underneath his tight shirts. Just looking at him gave Beverly the shivers. There was something exciting about him that she'd never known in any other boy. Something wild and untamed, and just a little bit dangerous.

He had approached her that day in school right in front of her friends.

"Hello, Sissy," he had said.

"Don't call me that," Beverly said. "That's only a name my sister gave me."

"I like it," Wayne had said. "Say, how about you and me meeting down by the bridge today? I'd like to get to know you better."

"Ha," Beverly answered.

After he had left, her girl friends had crowded around her. They were full of questions and bristling with curiosity.

"Are you going?" Angela Talbot asked.

"Of course not," Beverly had said. "I wouldn't be caught dead with a boy like that."

But she had thought about him all afternoon with a mounting excitement. What could happen if she went to the bridge? What could he do? After all, if something happened, she could scream and there were lots of houses around. What could he possibly do?

Still, she'd almost made up her mind not to do it when her mother confronted her that afternoon. Her mother was red with anger.

"That vulgar boy talked to you today, didn't he?"

"Yes," Beverly said.

"You just stay away from him, young lady. I'll not have you running around with trash like him."

Her mother had made up Beverly's mind for her. She was fifteen years old and she was damned if her mother was going to tell her what to do. After all, she was almost grown and plenty old enough to think for herself.

Of course, she didn't tell her mother she was going to disobey her. But she made up her mind that she was going to see Wayne Brown by the bridge that afternoon.

She pretended she was going for a ride like she did every evening, but instead of turning her horse toward the open field she rode toward the bridge.

Wayne was there waiting on her.

"I-I," he said. "I knew you'd come."

"Sure you did," Beverly said in a haughty tone of voice. "I just came to hear what you had to say."

"Then get down off your home," Wayne said. "I can't talk to you way up there."

Beverly hesitated. She kept telling herself that nothing could happen here on the bridge. It wasn't like she was getting into the back seat with him or anything like that. Rut she still felt afraid. He was just too attractive to her.

"No," Beverly said. "We can talk here."

"The hell with that," Wayne said, and he turned to walk away.

"Wait," Beverly said.

He turned back around to face her and Beverly slipped from the saddle. He was about two inches taller than she was and she found herself standing too close to him. She jumped back as if she'd been bitten.

"Are you frightened of me?" Wayne asked.

"Of course not," Beverly said. "Why should I be?"

"Because I have a bad reputation. I'm kind of a bully around school and all the girls are scared of me."

"Well, I'm not," Beverly said bravely.

"Good," he said. "Then how about tying up your horse and walking down the bank."

Again Beverly hesitated. The spot he had mentioned was secluded. It was dark and shadowy down the bank and it couldn't be seen. She knew what her girl friends would say and her mother. For the second time her mother made up her mind.

"I'll go with you," Beverly said.

She tied her horse up and followed Wayne down the slippery bank. He had to take her hand a couple of times and each time Beverly felt a tingle.

She knew she shouldn't be telling this way about a boy, any boy, and she never had before. But there was just something so exciting about Wayne Brown. Something that made her want to be close to him.

There was a blanket near the river. Wayne must have brought it down earlier. It was in a shady spat.

"Sit down," Wayne said.

Beverly suddenly knew that something bad was going to happen if she sat down on his blanket. He had come prepared and it was like he'd done this a dozen times. She was growing afraid.

"Maybe we shouldn't stay here," Beverly said.

He kissed her on the mouth. She struggled against him at first, but then her body relaxed. She'd kissed boys before. There was nothing to be afraid of. Or was there? His kiss was different because it was making her feel a little giddy.

"Now sit down," Wayne said.

She allowed herself to be pushed down on the blanket. He sat down beside her.

"Kiss me again," he said.

It was strange, but she found she couldn't fight him. His lips bruised hers and then his tongue began probing at her mouth. After a moment, she opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to enter her mouth.

Then she felt his hand cupping her tit.

She pulled away from him and slapped his face. She expected him to get angry. He smiled and stood up.

"I'll see you later," he said.

He started up the bank and again she called for him to stop. She didn't know why she called. It was as if she couldn't stand for him to leave. She wanted the excitement he brought with him.

"Do you want to play games?" he asked.

"No," she answered.

"You're going to let me do what I want?" he questioned.

Beverly thought about the question. She had only a vague idea of what he wanted to do. She knew it involved both of them being naked and him sticking his thing into her.

"Yes," she answered.

Later, she wondered why she had been so willing, so easy. She thought that it was partly Wayne's aura and partly wanting to get back at her mother. Her mother was always ordering her around, making her do things she didn't want to do. Now, at last, someone was seeing her as a gown-up capable of making firm decisions.

Wayne stretched out beside her on the blanket. This time he didn't kiss her. His hands went straight for her titties. He began to fondle them through the material of her blouse. Beverly knew her face was turning red.

"They feel really nice," Wayne said.

"Thank you," she said.

She felt a little stupid at their conversation and the fact that Wayne was beginning to pant as he kneaded her firm titties. She had always been proud of her tits. Her mother said she got them from her father's side of the family, from one of her vulgar-looking aunts, but she had caught her father and other boys looking at them and she'd known that they didn't think her tits were vulgar.

Wayne started unbuttoning her blouse, and Beverly gathered up her courage. No boy had ever seen her naked. Tommy Rodgers had once had her blouse unbuttoned almost all, the way and he'd touched her tits through her bra, but that was as far as she'd allowed anyone to go.

Now Wayne was grunting as he finished unbuttoning her blouse. He reached behind her back to unsnap her bra. His fingers fumbled nervously with the hooks for a moment.