Stranded with Samantha Pt.1 - Sex Stories

Stranded with Samantha Pt.1

... fuck your sexy little ass," I told her. She doesn't like anal much. We've done it a couple of times and she's very reluctant to give it up. She likes it once we get going but not the beginning or having cum in her ass. "Damn, Trace; I can't believe you'd extort anal out of me like that." "That's my terms," I said. "I don't want to do this anyway." "Ok," she agreed reluctantly. "I'll do it. You're an asshole though." "Yes, an asshole that's going to cum in your asshole," I told her. "Yuck," she said. "I can't believe you like that so much. It feels terrible! I like cum in my mouth or my pussy. Not back there though. It's disgusting, Trace." "Not to me," I told her. "I love your ass. I want to touch it all the time. It's your fault for having such a sexy one. I'll fuck your little pussy first and make you cum a hundred times." She set everything up and I made the drive up to the cabin. Samantha was already there when I arrived and she told me she had got the text just as she arrived. We made stilted conversation for a while. I asked her about school and she warmed up a little. She had been having trouble with a parent. He kept trying to pick up his kid but he was non-custodial and the kid's mother didn't want her seeing him. He had showed up at school and given Sam a hard time. They had to call the police and they arrested the guy. "Does that sort of thing happen much?" I asked her. "You'd be surprised," she said. "Over half the kids in my home room don't live with both their ...

... birth parents and it isn't getting any better. We have lists of who is supposed to pick them up. People not on the lists try to pick them up all the time. Usually it's a neighbor or a grandparent and we get it all sorted out. Some of them get nasty and abusive about it." "Well that really sucks for the kid," I said. "Can you imagine seeing your Dad taken away in cuffs?" "No, I can't imagine," she said. "You know Dad died when I was five. I would have loved to have him pick me up from school." She became a little wistful. I think that was the most emotion I ever saw from her. This was going well! "How well do you remember him?" I asked her. "Not well; I remember some things. I remember his pipe and the way it smelled. It was really nice. I remember him taking Ann and I to the park and playing with us. We went out for ice cream every Wednesday evening until he died. I missed him dreadfully for a long time. I still do." There were tears in those big blue eyes and she shook a little as a sob escaped. I put my arm around her and hugged her. We were sitting on the sofa drinking beer. She stiffened when I hugged her then relaxed. I petted her hair. It was very soft and wavy, bouncing under my touch. "I don't like to think about it," she said, pulling away and getting up. "It's late. Thanks for asking, Trace, but I'm going to bed. See you in the morning." She climbed up to the loft and I heard her moving around, getting ready for bed. She appeared briefly, walking to the bathroom, a ...