While the Whole Town Slept

Eleanor tried to fight. Her free hand tried to find the face, the eyes of the boy above her. She didn't even get close to scratching him when he let go of her leg and he slapped her.. One leg free, she tried to twist out from underneath her main attacker. His hip pinned her to the ground. The hand on her shoulder tightened. Helpless against the three strong males and with no way to find any leverage she had no chance of escape.

Lester Walters reached down to her. He grabbed the waistband of her cotton panties and tore them free. He ripped them from under her and gave them to one of the other boys.

"Put these in the bitch's mouth."

The hand came away from her lips, replaced by the wadded up garment. Now two hands held her shoulders.

Between her naked and splayed thighs, Walters was fumbling at his waist. Swearing under his breath as he tried to hurry. Finally his pants came loose. She felt his naked hairy thighs against her smoothness. Then the hard tip of his member at her most sacred place. Inside it, just a little. He was pushing frantically at her loins, propped up with one hand, the other holding his maleness. The tip nudged an inch inside her unwilling opening and he sensed the inevitable yielding of her untouched flesh.

Eleanor bucked as he entered her, the tearing pain making her see stars. The jerk of her hips only served to seat him deeper inside and the pain made her twist in an escape attempt. The movement forced him deeper. He shoved his hips down. As the veins and cords on her neck stood out, as her belly tensed in a vain attempt to repulse the invader, as her thighs pulled together to bar his advance, Lester Walter entered fully the terrified teacher.

She was dry except for the blood. A larger penis would have torn her deeply as it abraded the inside of her womb. As it was, she was fortunate that her rapist was no bigger. Or that he was inexperienced and had little stamina. In seconds, her rape, her first rape, was complete. His seed flooded her womb.

The second teen, she wasn't sure who he was at the time, was between her legs, his pants already around his knees. He was larger than the first but Lester Walters' semen eased his entry. The lubricity of his violation saved Eleanor from further pain.

`1

"Aw, fuck," he gasped and she recognized it was Bill Taylor who was mounting her. "The bitch is tight. Fucking tight!"

"Hell, I know that," insisted Lester Walters, disappointed in his performance. He thought his first fuck should last longer and was determined to do better next time.

"Let me show you how it's done," boasted the Taylor boy as he set a steady pace in and out of the violated teacher.

The teacher tried not to think about his mother with whom she'd attended school, who was disappointed with her son and the boys with whom he associated. She tried not to think about the boy rutting effortlessly inside her. Tried not to think her own body. What was being done to it.

Dear God, please let it end. Let me die now before anything else happens.

"You ready to go to town, you stuck up bitch? You nose in the air fucking teacher! Always actin' like you was the queen of the hop, like you was better than any of us. Like being a teacher was special, especially a teacher named O'Neill." He spit in her face. Some of the saliva landed on her staring eye and burned there. Her tears slowly washed away the sputum and eased the burning sensation.

What had she ever done to earn such animosity? Eleanor thought she was just doing her job, what she loved doing, teaching, the best way she could. She wasn't stuck up, was never better than anyone else. Nor could she help it that she was an O'Neill, the last of them, a family that people looked up to in the town. That wasn't her fault. That was no reason to punish her this way.

As the pain eased in her middle and her eye, she found that she was becoming more and more aware of what was happening. The shame overwhelmed. Yet there was the feel of the soft grass against her bottom and when her second rapist lifted his body off of her with each stroke, there was a welcome coolness as the breeze found her exposed skin. She thought of Tennyson floating lovely as a cloud and tried to focus her mind on that image. Not the sweating cursing male above her.

"She ain't fightin' no more."

"You're fuckin' right, Buzz! I can feel her cunt loose now, fellas. She's starting to get with it." Young Taylor had fucked one of his little sister's friends and had once paid for a whore in Rawlings at the county fair. His experience, while not large, told him the teacher was changing. As Buzz had said, she wasn't fighting him. She wasn't helping him any, but the fight had gone out of here totally.

The realization made him think he could please her, make her forget this was anything but a brutal rape. A typical teen male, he pumped harder and faster into her body when a more knowing man, a man who cared about a woman's pleasure, would have slowed. Teased. Created desire. Instead, his impulse had the opposite effect. She stiffened beneath him. At that point, he was beyond awareness. He continued to fuck her hard and fast and when he came, the teacher was numb to it.

Bill Taylor pulled from her yielding body and grinned as he saw despite the darkness, that a heavy rope of his semen kept them connected. He grabbed her skirt and wiped himself dry.

"Let me get in the saddle," said Buzz Burke. "Let me show you how to ride a filly."

"Fuckin' cowboy shit," whispered Lester Walters.

The darkness hurt her eyes like the sun. Eleanor shut them against the glare of the night..

Buzz knelt between her open thighs but was careful not to let his skin touch her. Instead he reached up and lightly stroked her cheek.

Eleanor jerked her head away as if it were the touch of a snake's tongue.

He didn't take that as rejection. Buzz repeated the contact. Left cheek. Right cheek. Left again. Finally, she didn't pull away, let him continue. It didn't matter any more. She was dying or already dead.

His lips replaced his fingers on her cheek. She reacted at that bit of touching, a twitch rather than a flinch. He kissed her four or five times, alternating cheek to cheek, barely lingering touches.

"C'mon man. I wanna see ya fuck the bitch so I can go again. I swear I'll last longer this time and rip her a new cunt, I'll fuck her so hard."

"Shut the fuck up. You had your chance!" His tone changed as he told the teacher, "I ain't gonna hurt ya."

He kissed the teacher again. This time it was longer and she felt the teen's exhalation. It

felt cool to her fevered skin. He plucked her wadded up panties from her mouth. Freed of the blockage, she gulped air into her lungs.

She continued to feel his breath as his lips touched her ear. The angle of her jaw. Hollow of her neck. She wasn't prepared for the passage of his lips against hers, though and when his lips trailed away, her head shifted slightly as if following him.

Buzz returned his lips to her neck. Lips and tongue. Kiss and lick. Ear. Neck. Lips. Ear once more. Back to her lips. Touch of his tongue. Kiss. Kiss. Press of tongue. Kiss the ear. Lips. Another swipe of the tongue. Kiss. The lips lingered brief seconds. Returned. Flitted away, a teasing butterfly. Came back. Lingered. Felt her response.

He had been sitting forward on his knees, bent over Eleanor. Now Buzz sat back, resting on the balls of his feet.

The teacher opened her eyes. During her first two rapes, the moon had risen above the eastern horizon and climbed high enough to sprinkle bits of light among the shadows. She saw her tormenters above her. The two were naked from their waists down. Darkest shadows held the sight of their male members from her sight. The third teen - Buzz? - was between her bruised thighs wearing all his clothes and he didn't seem to threaten her at all.

When her felt her gaze, he smiled at her.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"Man, she deserves some hurt!"

"I told you before, you had your chance." He leaned forward and repeated, "I'm not going to hurt you. I won't let them hurt you either."

Had she the energy, Eleanor would have laughed. She should believe one of her rapists, one of the hateful trio who had taken her maidenhead, spoiled her, violated her?

"Fuck you, Buzz."

"Yeah go to hell."

The teen between her thighs looked at the two of them.

"You shitheads have a lot to learn."

When he bent his lips towards her, Eleanor twisted away from his contact. He didn't let that deter him, however; he simply bent over more and followed her head till she could go no farther. His lips brushed her cheek. For a second, the teacher thought of her dead father.

Buzz next sought her lips. Although she didn't receive him, she didn't shy away either. His lips withdrew. Returned. This time to linger.

Eleanor felt the touch of his tongue. Her mind, if not her body recoiled. Then her lips parted as if he had worn down her resistance. She accepted his tongue. Received him. Without realizing it, caressed him with her own. She was tired. If God wouldn't let her die, couldn't He at least let her sleep so that when she awoke this night would be naught but a dream. A dream could not offend, after all.

The teen let his tongue slip fractionally away. He felt hers follow. He advanced, teased, withdrew again, this time fully from her mouth and the teacher's tongue touched his lips.

"Goddamn," whispered one of the others as in the freshening moonlight they saw the two, their friend and the teacher, kiss.

The kiss lasted for what seemed like hours. In reality, it was many seconds, perhaps a minute. And when it ended, it was with reluctance on Eleanor's part. An unexpected reluctance. A shameful reluctance. To kiss one of her rapists. Yet he wasn't a rapist, was he? The other two, yes, but the third?

She trembled as his lips trailed down her throat. She trembled more when his fingers traced the line taken by his lips. His hands parted, moved down her shoulders. His thumbs caught the straps of her light cotton summer dress. Slid the straps down. Off her shoulders, down her smoothly muscled upper arms. Lower. Pulled the bodice from her. Left her bare except for her brassiere. Then those straps too were pulled away. Bared her for the first time to male eyes. Skin like alabaster in the growing moonlight. Nipples so pale as to be nearly without any color at all. Small nipples like those of an older boy. Breasts soft yet no doubt firm. Round and set far apart on her chest.

Eleanor lay there, her mind in a quandary as the teenaged boy looked at her; She should have felt some shame. She didn't, though. The rapists were forgotten, had ceased to exist.

Until one of them laughed. Her hands came up over her breasts.

She didn't see Buzz shake his head and the pair fade into the shadows and disappear. When the woman looked for them, the were gone.

"Let me see," Buzz said, lifting her hands away, laying them at her side. He looked at the swell of her breasts. The young man touched her. He put his hands on her abdomen, slid them up to touch the base of her globes, and raised his hands to cup her. He massaged her gently. Let her firmness fill his hands. Felt the fullness of her previously untouched roundness.

He lowered his head, Swiped his tongue over one of her pale nipple. Felt it stiffen. He hardened it. He made it erect till it seemed to fill his mouth although it was hardly that big. Then he turned his attention to its twin. He sucked it, slavered it with his saliva, kissed it, actually nibbled at her nipple, and felt it grow like the other had.

Buzz sat back. He admired his handiwork, looking with lust at the taut caps of her breasts. He whispered, "You have beautiful tits. Wonderful tits. They're so sexy...Nell."

Eleanor's breath caught in her chest. What? Had she heard him? Heard him correctly? Or was her mind playing tricks?

"What did you say?"

"I said your tits are sexy."

"Did you call me...Nell? I - I didn't know you knew my name."

She gazed intensely at his face. Only Byron had ever called her Nell. And he was older than her, would be in his middle forties almost. Certainly he wasn't this boy who had once sat in her classroom, bored no doubt by her lecture, wanting nothing more than for the bell to ring, to get out on the football field or the baseball diamond, probably waiting to meet some slattern his own age and find some dark corner where they could amuse themselves in wickedness and sinfulness.

Had she really heard him call her Nell or was that a trick of her mind, driven to madness by her body's pain?

And yet, he'd kissed her as Byron had kissed her. And she'd responded just a little in the same manner as she had with that boy thirty years in their sunlit hidden glade.

"You have long legs, too." He reached behind his body and ran his fingers from the base of her calf up to her knee and the soft sensitive flesh behind it before touching her upper leg and the flare of her hip almost to her waist but avoiding the inner thigh. "Long and pretty legs, legs made for dancing in starlight."

Nell had never danced a step in her life, although as a girl she sometimes dreamed of dancing, being the belle of the ball, Cinderella finding her Prince Charming and being carried off to the handsome vast palace on the mountain top above the squalid village.

"What else?"

He touched her other leg the same way as the first, only this time he danced his fingers inside her thigh. Grateful she was that he stopped before he reached her bruised and swollen sex.

"They're long fucking" [She winced at the word.] "legs that make me go crazy. Shit, they make any man crazy. You oughtta show 'em off."

"If that's all you know about me, then you know nothing at all."

The young man touching her legs ignored her comment. The bitch was wrong. He knew everything about her he needed to know.

"And these boobs? They make my mouth water." And Buzz proved that by pressing his drooling mouth to one of her nipples. He sucked gently at it. He sucked harder and slid his tongue around and over the hardened bud of her growing desire.

"You like them?"

"Any man would." Kisses and nibbles for her other nipple. "Soft, big firm, ready to fill the mouth of your lover."

"I never thought about my breasts - my boobs that way." She'd never said the word before and her face flashed red in her shame.

"You should. Any other woman would be proud of them. You should be proud of them too, Nell."

"I'm just an old woman. Nobody cares about my bre-. Nobody cares about my boobs."

"You're not old and you're wrong about your boobs. Absolutely one hundred percent wrong. I tell you, these are great tits."

"Tits?" Nell whispered as he sucked her again. What was happening to her? What was Byron doing to her? He was drawing her tits inside himself, plying her with pleasure, making her forget the pain in her loins. Her ... tits felt so good. She'd never felt this good, never experienced these sensations. She felt like her ... her boobs were swelling to fill his mouth so he could feast on her flesh and give her even greater pleasure.

She lifted her hands and held him to her breast. Pressed him closer. Let him feed on her tit. Let him send pleasure through her. Pleasure like she had never known. Pleasure that made her moan. Made her arch her back. Forcing her tit into his hungry mouth. Wanting to fill his mouth.

"Oh, yes," gasped the panting woman.

The teen recognized her reaction. She was ready for whatever he wanted. She would want it as badly as he. He sucked just hard enough to heighten her response and smiled to himself when she gasped again. He released her.

"Please don't stop," Nell whispered.

"I'm not going to stop. You can't believe what's waiting for you."

The skin of her abdomen fluttered when he kissed her belly and she moaned loudly when his tongue found her navel, toyed with her oval indentation, sucked gently. Made her moan again. Then start with shock as his lips traveled lower. His tongue parted her tuft of unruly and wiry pubic hair.

"Oh, please no, Byron!"

What the hell? Buzz thought as he sought out her pussy. His question disappeared though when he caught the scent of her cum filled cunt. He found the spread lips of her slit and wanted to swipe his tongue over it. He fought back the impulse. Instinct told him she would be sore from the previous penetration so he didn't lick her. He blew his breath over her cunt instead.

"Don't! It's nasty."

"No it's beautiful. Sexy."

She'd never considered her privates that way although she knew that some men, the baser sort of men, would find an attraction to that part of a certain sort of woman. Nell had never thought that anyone would speak that way about her, never imagined that any man would ever see her this way, never considered the pleasure a man could find in her, or the pleasure she could be given.

Buzz retreated from her cunt and returned to her boobs.

Nell felt a moment of regret as Byron left her privates, but was glad when he sucked her tits some more.

"Um," she moaned as she guided him from one tit to the other. As her hips began to rise and fall. Nell felt an unwelcome emptiness in her loins. Unwelcome and unexpected. What was Byron doing to her? She had never, not ever felt this way before. Never wanted what she now desired.

"Please..."

"What, Nell?"

"What you were, were doing before... Please?"

"What? Kissing down...here?" Buzz trailed his fingers ever so lightly down her belly, stopping at the upper fringe of pubic hair. He pulled gently at the hair, felt her hips lift, and let her go. Her hips fell. When he tugged again, Nell lifted her hips higher.

"Yes. Please?"

"I will, but you need to ask me. I'm not going to do anything unless you ask me."

"Kiss me... down there."

"Where, Nell?" Teased the horny teenager. He wanted her to beg. It would be better for them both if she begged.

"Between my thighs?"

"You want me to kiss you between your thighs? Do you want me to kiss your cunt?"

Aroused and ashamed at the same time, Nell did nothing more than nod.

"You have to ask me, darling."

"Kiss my, my c-cunt," she whispered. She repeated louder this time, "I want you to kiss my cunt."

That's just what he did, to Nell's shame. The shame added fire to her excitement because it was so dirty. And her having to ask for it stoked the fire.

Buzz licked her pussy. He started with the outer lips that had taken the first brutality of Lester's cock, soothing the abraded folds of flesh with his saliva. Occasionally, he felt the horny woman shudder as he hit her clit. He didn't do it often, wanting to let the excitement, then yearning build slowly. He was a patient young man and could wait before taking what he wanted. Candy was sweeter when a person had time to wait for it, imagine it's flavor, taste it in his mind before that first cautious sampling and then lingered over each bite, making it last, savoring it.

Patience in a youth was unusual, not that Nell knew that. Buzz had years of experience working in his favor. He knew he could drive this middle aged woman crazy with desire.

His tongue worked its insidious way into the inner folds of Nell's cunt, where she'd never been touched before tonight and she felt - she felt like the world was on f-fire and all the heat of the s-s-sun was burning in her loins, in her cunt and it was consuming her and she was going to die in the inferno unless she had some, some sort of release and her mind screamed out and her body shook and her thighs tightened around Byron's head, her hips pulsed up and down in rapid jerking movements. The moon swelled in her eyes and the sun in her cunt replaced it, burned her flesh, burned the whole world like an atomic blast that left nothing in its wake standing and her hands pulled at her boobs, pulled at her nipples and twisted them and her cunt overflowed with the heat that nestled inside and her mind screamed and screamed so that when she tried to stop screaming she couldn't and her hand pulled Byron's face to her c-cunt and she called out his name and pulled Byron tighter and her cunt exploded and she was silent at last and the fire died and the world and her body died with them...