HAMMERING THE DIRTY TEEN’S ASS
Copyright 2017 Alex Hunter
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story is intended for a mature audience only! Contains explicit,
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE DIRTY TEEN’S ASS
BY ALEX HUNTER
THE DIRTY TEEN’S ASS
The last time Megan and I hooked up she
wanted me to treat her like shit. So I did, smacking her around and
pulling her hair and forcing her to choke on my cock. It was a
punishing session, borderline brutal, and I took things farther than
I’d ever taken them with any other girl before.
But at the end of the night Megan let me
know that I hadn’t been rough enough with her. I’d come
close—closer than any other man had, she’d said—but
didn’t take things quite far enough. Then she told me that the
next time her friend was in town, she’d show me how it was
done. That was almost a week ago. I hadn’t heard from Megan
since. Which wasn’t that big of a deal, really. After all, we
normally hooked up just about once a week, so it wasn’t like
anything was amiss. But I’d so been looking forward to seeing
Megan brutalize her friend that it had seemed like longer.
Which is all a long way of saying that
when my phone started to ring, late on Saturday night, I got pretty
excited. And when I saw from the readout that it was Megan calling, I
was practically giddy. It was finally time.
I answered the phone with a calm voice,
trying to stay level, knowing that if I gave Megan anything by way of
an opening, she’d pry it open and make me regret it.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Not much,” Megan replied,
sounding as calm and casual as always. Keeping her wits about her at
all times was one of the things she strived for. The way she saw
things, emotion was the enemy. “What about you? Anything going
“Not really,” I said.
“Are you busy tonight?” Megan
“Nope,” I said. “I’m
just hanging out.” Waiting
for you to call, I said to
myself but not aloud. No reason to give Megan more ammo to use
against me. She talked more than enough shit without me providing her
with extra fodder. “Why?”
“I was hoping you could come over.
I’m feel like getting the shit fucked out of me.”
“Is Carrie going to be there?”
I said without really thinking things through.
“Not tonight,” Megan said.
“She’s still out of town. She’ll be back next week.
We’ll set something up then.”
“Okay,” I said, trying not to
let my disappointment shine through.
Megan picked up on it though. “Don’t
sound so fucking upset about it,” she said.
“I’m not,” I lied.
“Sure you’re not,” she
“No, really,” I said. “I’m
not disappointed. Not at all. I was just looking forward to it,
“And you weren’t looking
forward to fucking just me?”
“No,” I said.
“So you weren’t looking
forward to fucking me?”
“I mean, yes. I was looking forward
“Are you sure?” Megan asked.
“Because you don’t really sound like it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I
said, trying hard to pull my foot out of my mouth.
“Because I could always call
“I’m positive,” I said.
“I would love nothing more than to come over and fuck the shit
out of you tonight.”
“That’s good to hear,”
Megan said. “Because I have something special planned. A nice
little surprise for you.”
“What is it?”
“Don’t be so fucking lame,”
she said. “If I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise
now would it?”
“No, I guess not,” I said.
“Trust me. You’ll like it. I
I got myself cleaned up a bit then hopped
in the car and made my way over to Megan’s house. There were
butterflies in my stomach, but I was more excited by the anticipation
of what perverted acts we were going to engage in than nervous about
Megan and I had a purely physical
relationship. She wasn’t the kind of girl I saw myself in a
long-term relationship with; we didn’t get along like that. She
knew it as well as I did. We’d talked about it many times
The key to our chemistry was tension. Due
to our age and personality differences, we were on opposite ends of
the spectrum when it came to most things. We were like one of those
rock band that made great music together because
we didn’t get along, not in spite of it. The tension between us
was what fueled the music, so to speak; it’s what made the sex
great. Take away the tension and replace it with harmony and the
spark would be gone. The sex would have still been good, just no
Which is why we didn’t hang out at
all outside of the proverbial bedroom. We knew that if we did, we’d
either: 1) Hate each so much that we wouldn’t even want to get
together for a hate-fuck session or: 2) We’d start to get along
better, which would lead to an emotional connection, which would lead
to us seeing each other as actual human beings with dreams and
feelings and all that crap, which would lead to harmony instead of
tension, which would lead to the end of the great music we made
together. And neither of us wanted that.
Twenty minutes after she’d called
me, I knocked on Megan’s door. She answered it wearing what I
thought of as her “elegant slut” outfit. A white,
long-sleeve, designer blouse with black polka-dots, white panties,
and black leather ankle boots.
Megan opened the door without so much as
a word of greeting, then stepped aside to let me in. She had an
annoyed scowl on her face, but that was her default expression and it
didn’t bother me in the least. If anything, it was a good sign.
It meant the tension would be ratcheted up.
Replying to her silence with a brief nod
of my head, I walked inside, stopping almost immediately. When Megan
closed the door and turned around I was right there, inches away. It
was time to do our little dance.