Ugly Girls Need Love Too

Book Description:Consummate cocksman Brock entices a young interviewer with tales of sexual adventure and his favorite kink: making it with Ugly Girls--that special breed of girl whose shortcomings are made all the more appealing (through irony or other) to the discerning gentleman.First up is Darlene, a long-legged tomboy with problems. Taken advantage of by a fellow student, Darlene succumbs to a wanton lust that she did not know existed. A kink defined. An opportunity offered. A new journey begun. Ugly Girls Need Love Too! **Warning: This 8750 word (30 print page) story contains graphic descriptions of man on woman (m/f) sex including semi-public sex. Also includes impregnation fantasy.Were there people in this story, it would be correct to say that they are all consenting adults. But there are no people involved: Stories contain ideas, not people. Ideas do not exist outside our heads.Excerpt:. . .my tongue found hers; and hungrily I probed the inside her mouth. Her breath wasn't exactly minty fresh, but if it reeked I was too horny to notice. And anyway, it was her I wanted to taste, not some chemical mask. I wanted no less than to devour her.Time melted away. Our kiss lasted a minute or an hour, it was impossible to tell; it was so sloppy that we left a long line of saliva stretched out between us when finally we broke apart. Darlene's tumescent lips were red and raw and begging to be nibbled again. She was flushed―the revealing sign of arousal extending down her throat toward the heaving of her breasts. She was giving me the sort of look that said there was no going back; I must have mirrored her expression. It was all the communication we needed. When I said, “Not here,” we rose together in silence. I took her by the hand and led her out of the room. . .. . .the door had scarcely closed before we were all over each other. . .We kissed again, savagely, with no more presence of mind than two animals. My hands moved up her sides, inside her jacket; when my caress found the area under her arms where breast meets rib, Darlene moaned―right into my mouth, not daring to break our embrace. . . . . . At the same time I began exploring with my thumbs. For the size and heaviness of her jugs, it took a moment; but I soon felt nipple, and a telltale stiffening through the thin material of her shirt. That―and sinuous arch of her back, the primal sounds she made―betrayed her: Darlene was really revving up. Breathless, I took a moment to pepper her already rosy neck with love bites before going back for another helping of her tongue, her spit, the very air from her lungs. . .Our mouths full of each other and blind with lust, I backed Darlene up against the sink. . .