NOTE: Taco Werewolf is not the narrator of this story and does not appear in it.
My wife and I were a
little concerned when Junior didn’t come home for Thanksgiving. But we just
figured the college life had many distractions. And the fact that this was
Junior’s freshman year and first few months away from home made it
understandable that he’d want to try and forget his mom and dad for awhile,
learn to be on his own. Wendy and I joked that Junior was probably trying to be
his own man, strapping young lad that he was, and cook his own Thanksgiving
turkey somewhere even though we didn’t think he even had his own oven in his
dorm room. Her and I laughed even harder when we joked that Junior, fine young
boy that he was, probably even tried to go out in the woods and shoot the bird
himself like the pilgrims themselves did when they first arrived in this great
land of ours. Neither one of us thought Junior had a gun, or at least we hoped
not. Like I said, we weren’t worried until Christmas came around and we still
hadn’t heard a word from our only son-- not since we dropped him off at the
Worchestershire college campus back in August had we heard a peep from our
darling boy.
My wife, Wendy, started worrying up a storm. She suggested we call the
police, but I decided I’d make the 1,000 mile trek to Worchestershire to find
him myself. We gave Junior all the way into January to contact us, still hadn’t
heard from him, so I off I went. Wendy wanted to come with me but I wanted to
seem manly and told her only a man can truly find another man, however
much sense that made. I am a slightly-built, balding accountant prone to
sickness and skinny as a rail at 40, so any chance I get to assert my manhood
whatsoever, I take it. Wendy just stood in the snow on the porch and waved
good-bye to her man, teary-eyed and hoping she wasn’t going to lose both
her boys.
It was a rough trip over frozen roads and amidst storms of ice and sleet, but
I did finally manage to drive my Ford Escort all the way into Worchestershire.
The first thing I did was go to the dormitory where Junior was supposed to be
staying at. I knocked on the door of his room, exhausted from the trip and
worried as heck, but figuring Junior would just answer with some guilty,
surprised look on his face and explain everything.
But some Asian student answered the door; to my disappointment he said that
Junior had been gone since mid-October. His roommate said that at first, Junior
was doing fine; he was going to class and studying hard. He said Junior was a
fine American boy, was a nice roommate, that he and Junior had gone to the
movies a lot together and joined a meditation group. Everything went fine, it
seemed, until Junior started running around with a certain crowd. That’s when
Junior started drinking; the Asian saw less and less of him, and all Junior
could seem to talk about was getting laid. I guess Junior had intercourse with
quite a few girls right there in his dorm room. His room mate seemed a little
resentful when he talked of how Junior would come in with a girl while he was
studying and they’d fuck right there in front of him.
“I could not help it once,” the Asian said in his broken English. “I watch
them once, Joonyah with nice girl and big boobs. He fuck her and I could not
help it. I, how to do say? I watch and jerk off.” Then the Asian started turning
red, laughing like a little school girl—that’s when I thanked him for his help
and left.
This was all getting a little too weird for me, though I was glad Junior was
getting laid after only a few months in college. It took me until my Senior year
before I had sex with Wendy, and that’s only after I promised to marry her as
soon as we both graduated. I stood out in the cold street outside Junior’s dorm
all alone, in a foreign town, not knowing a single soul or what my next move
would be. All I could think about were the last words Junior’s Chinese room mate
said to me. He yelled from a crack in the door as I walked down the hall. I
could barely understand him.
“They say Joonyah is in hole!” he said.
“Huh?” I shouted back. “Junior is in what?”
“Hole,” the Asian repeated.
“Junior isn’t whole?” I said, thinking I understood and feeling a
little annoyed with this kid for stating the obvious. It was apparent that
Junior wasn’t whole, that he wasn’t himself. He had always been great about
keeping his mother and I informed of his whereabouts and what was going on in
his life. He had his secrets like any teenage boy did, but for the most part he
always kept his parents informed of any problems he was having. So, yes, it was
obvious that Junior wasn’t “whole” as the kid put it. Something or
someone had gotten to him. I figured I’d just walk around campus and try to find
some info on this so-called “certain crowd” Junior’s room mate said he’d been
running around with.
About an hour later, I was walking down a sidewalk populated by many students
going back and forth to class. Wouldn’t it be nice, I thought, if I could just
bump into Junior, on his way to class like a good boy, carrying his books and an
apple for his professor?-- and then this whole mysterious nightmare could be
ended! But no, it wasn’t meant to be. The problem would run much deeper and
exactly where it would run deeper still haunts me to this day. As I
passed a group of students sitting around a bench underneath a dead,
snow-covered tree, I heard one of them heckling me:
“Hey pops!” I heard a voice say. “I heard you were looking for Junior
Lawrence!”
I stopped and turned around to face the young man. He was around Junior’s
age, but with a scruffy face from not shaving. He wore a toboggan with a
marijuana leaf embroidered upon it and an old green army jacket. The three or
four friends he had around him looked similarly attired, like hoodlums. Could
this be the “certain crowd” I had heard about?
“Junior Lawrence is my son,” I said gravely; my concern and worry had to have
shown in the expression on my face and tone of my voice. “We haven’t heard from
him since the summer. Do you know him?”
The shady-looking kid took a drag from his cigarette. One of his friends
appeared to be smoking something entirely different, trying to be discreet about
it as he put the joint to his lips. “Yeah, I know Junior. We all did. He was a
cool dude and we warned him. We warned him, dog, but he wouldn’t listen. We told
him that bitch was bad news; bitch likes to take advantage of nice-looking dudes
with bright futures and fuck up their lives.”
“What are you talking about?” I said. “Bitch? A woman? Junior got involved
with a girl who got him in trouble?”
“More than trouble, pops,” the kid said.
“Junior is in the hole!” the kid smoking marijuana said, then he started
giggling and coughing. I was getting irritated, fearing these kids were playing
around with me.
“I know Junior isn’t whole!” I said. “He hasn’t contacted his parents in
months!”
“No, dude, the hole!” the kid with the Army jacket said.
“The hole? Which hole?”
“The fucking witch hole, dog,” the kid said. “Mother fucker is in the
witch hole. Mother fucker, your son’s soul is trapped in some chick’s
ass, dog, for real. We told him, man, to stay away from that
bitch. It’s some chick, man, who lives around here. She ain’t no student; she
ain’t no professor. All anybody knows is that she is fine and she stalks around
town looking for young dudes to cast spells on. All anybody really knows about
her, dog, is that she is a witch and the rumor is that she’s got Junior trapped
in her fucking witch hole, dude—her fucking asshole, dig? And nobody
knows how to get him out of it or if it is even possible.”
It was all too much. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I became angry,
certain that these kids were messing with me. These kids were responsible for my
son’s downfall. They had gotten Junior hooked on drugs and now he was probably
lying in some gutter somewhere. Someone had to pay.
“I have a right mind to call the police on you kids!” I said. “Now tell me
where my son is! And don’t tell me he is trapped inside some woman’s anus
because that’s about the dumbest thing I ever heard!” I was clinching my fist
and shaking it at these thugs, being manly, and my wife, Wendy, would have been
so proud of me.
“It’s true, pops!” the kid said. “If there’s anyone you should be calling the
cops on it’s that bitch that set Junior up! Go to Clearwater Sports Bar on
Walnut Street. She hangs out there a lot looking for frat boys and other fresh
meat. Hard telling how many dudes that bitch got up her ass. A lot of dudes have
been turning up missing lately.”
“If I find out, young man, that you’re responsible for doing any harm to my
son I’m going to see you are punished by any legal means available to me.”
“Whatever, pops. Just go there and talk to her. You’ll recognize her right
off if you see her. Her name is Lucina and she freaking hot, yo. Bitch stands
out in a crowd more than a cat in a dog house. Put her on the spot. Just be
straight-forward and ask if you can look up her ass for your son.”
Two of the kids started coughing and snickering at this last remark. I was
angry, still certain they were all messing with me, but I had no choice but to
seek out this Lucina woman. I went to this Clearwater Sports Bar, ordered a beer
and sat at the bar watching a basketball game on one of the place’s big-screen
TVs. The place got busier and busier as I sat there for two whole hours, sipping
slowly on my beer. I’m not much of a drinker and I didn’t want to lose my edge.
The place was filled with young college girls, and the more I sat there, bored
and feeling out of place, the more—and I felt guilty about it—I found myself
indulging in sexual fantasies to pass the time.
I saw a brunette walk past, stared at her butt as she walked by, imagining
what it would be like to stick my cock in it. “Stop it!” I said to myself—a
married man, forty years old and balding, here to look for his son and lusting
after the pretty young things, it was terrible I was so bored I didn’t know what
else to do except imagine what it would be like to have my cock inside the warm,
wet mouth of this young redhead who was playing pool and sucking on a cigarette
like it was some frat boy’s cock; slowly sucking on it, and I figured later on
that night it would be some lucky young man’s cock in her mouth. Oh how that
must feel!
Then suddenly, as my dick became so hard and throbbing for so long I felt I
would certainly have to find a bathroom stall to relieve myself, a woman was
suddenly sitting next to me. She was ravishing and stood out from among the
other girls like a cat in a doghouse. She was a tad older than the rest, about
mid-twenties, but that wasn’t it. Her perfume was so sweet and scintillating but
that wasn’t it either. She had long, wavy, shoulder-length, pitch-black hair,
and her eyes were large, black and sharp. Her lips were slender and painted a
glossy purple. The black eyeliner around her eyes seemed to endow her pupils and
eyelashes with an amazing, mesmerizing, penetratingly hypnotic focus and power.
Her skin was pale but creamy like milk. She wore a purple, velvet mini-skirt
outfit and her top was cut off half-way down her chest, revealing succulent
mounds of cleavage which led down to what must be two of the softest, bounciest,
juiciest and loveliest breasts a woman could ever hope to have. I felt fear at
first, remembering what that punk kid told me earlier. Could this be Lucina? I
was frozen, holding my beer nervously, pretending to watch TV, when suddenly I
shuddered as I felt a cold, soft hand on my inner thigh.
“I heard you were looking for me,” the woman said in a sultry, seductive
tone.
I turned to look at her, saw her smile, and the way her eyebrows lowered and
lit up her dark pupils to enhance the effect of her eyelashes upon the whole
panorama of her beautiful, gorgeous face made me want to do nothing but stick my
tongue in her mouth. Her sexual energy was amazing. I just wanted to scream and
frig myself right in front of her, just so she could watch; just so this
beautiful woman could see my cock.
“A-Are you Lucina?” I stumbled to say.
“Yes, I am,” she said, totally in control and knowing it; reveling in it. I
didn’t have a prayer from the first second I smelled her perfume. “I am Lucina,
the evil witch who all the students talk about. I fuck all the boys and anger
all the girls. People say, ‘Why does Lucina stay here? A beautiful intelligent
woman should have something better to do than cause trouble amongst kids,’ but
they do not understand.”
I was unbelievably hard. I felt a dark, magnetic force slowly begin to
blanket me, turn me into some ethereal spirit of a mummy headed for the tomb,
but I didn’t care. I thought about Wendy back home only briefly, and soon didn’t
care about that either. I had to do this for Junior. I had to find him, save him
somehow, and would do whatever it took. I gasped. Lucina wasted no time. She was
already fumbling for my zipper and soon I was whimpering as I felt her cold
hands grab my bare naked, hard dick. I looked at the people all around me. No
one seemed to be paying attention to us.
“You see, Mr. Lawrence- can I call you Bob?- What others consider evil I only
perceive as having fun . Truly evil people don’t believe in evil at all.
Evil is too serious , you know? Truly evil people only believe in
enjoying life through the comedy of making others suffer. Fun. And life is about
fun and happiness, no? So why wouldn’t Lucina want to be here, having fun
amongst all the good-looking, young dick?”
“Oh my god,” I said as Lucina began to stroke my cock underneath the bar.
“You are so beautiful,” I said. “B-But Wendy, my wife . . . . I can’t. I can’t--
”
“Resist?” Lucina said with a wicked grin on her face. “I know. I can only
imagine how long it’s been since you’ve had your cock sucked. Your wife never
sucks your cock anymore. I can see it in your eyes. But you have beautiful
eyes.” She ran her cold hand over my head, brushed her fingertips against my
cheek. My cock was oozing thick drops of sticky pre-cum; I felt it cover
Lucina’s fingers and it served as lubricant as she stroked my hard shaft slowly
and expertly. She grabbed my tingling testicles and giggled. “You have such a
nice cock, Bob,” she said. “But I want to see it as well as feel it. Bring it
out, Bob; bring your cock out from under this bar; Lucina wants to play with it
in front of all these people.” She lowered her eyelids, looked at me
licentiously amd licked my nose like a kitten with her long, wet tongue. I felt
her hot, dead breath and my blood started boiling with lust that was so intense
as almost feel like hurt and rage. I was trembling in pure, unabashed yearning
for this woman.
“But out in front of all these people?” I asked her.
Lucina appeared perturbed. “Let me see that cock!” she shrieked hungrily. She
spun me around on the barstool to make my naked, hard dick viewable to any of
the mulititudes in the bar who wanted to look at it. But to my amazement, no one
seemed to notice. Everyone seemed to look right through me.
“You are already dead, Bob,” Lucina said. “You were dead the first moment I
sat next to you.” She then lowered her top all the way down to her slim waist.
Her skin was so white, like milk; so creamy, like snow; so cold, like an inverse
hell and my insides were warmer than fiery hot coals. I grabbed her full, soft
breasts and played with her large, light brown puffy nipples. “Mmmmm,” Lucina
purred. “That’s it, Bob, play with my big tits. You’re already dead; it doesn’t
matter what your wife thinks. God, you’ve got such a nice cock.” Lucina then
wrapped her luscious, fleshy orbs around my long, stiff rod and let me titty
fuck her. With every thrust of my cock between her tits, she licked the
hypersensitive, purple dripping tip of my dick as I moaned in excruciating
ecstasy, wanting her to wrap her full, purple lips around my aching boner—and
she did.
“Oh god,” I muttered. “Yes, yes, suck my fucking dick.”
Lucina devoured my cock, furiously bobbing her head up and down the shaft as
I sat on the barstool, my head spinning, looking at the college kids all around
me who were going on with their lives, oblivious to it all. I felt Lucina’s long
strands of saliva drool and drop all over my dick as she let the spit hang from
her lips. She looked into my eyes, intoxicating me as she clawed at my chest and
jammed my cock deep into her hot, wet witchy-poo mouth again, my peckerhead
banging against the back of her mouth and into her throat. I lost control as my
ass slid from the bar seat—I was standing up with my pants down to my knees in
front of all these kids. A meek, balding forty year old man had completely lost
his identity in a moment of pure passion, and here I was, grabbing this gorgeous
woman by the head, gripping her skull to either side tightly with my hands,
skull-fucking her, jerking her skull back and forth, feeling my cock
going in and out of her tight mouth, wrapped snugly by her soft lips as she
looked up at me hungrily.
“Suck my cock, you fucking witch!” I screamed. “Yeah! Yeah! Suck it. You like
my big cock?” I said. “You like my big cock in your mouth, witch?”
“Yes, but I’d like it even better in another hole,” Lucina said as she stood
up, turned her back toward me. “Pull my skirt up, Bob, and fuck me. Fuck me with
that big, gorgeous cock, Bob.”
I did what she said, trembling with lust and excitement as I slowly lifted up
her velvet skirt and peeled down her panties, mesmerized by every inch that was
revealed of her gorgeous, round, plump and perfect ass. Such a beautiful, young,
naked ass before me as I stood there, holding my cock in front of all these
kids, knowing this gorgeous woman—no matter how evil she was—wanted me to put it
inside her. It was all too much. I stared at her ass, feeling her round, firm,
tight buttcheeks. I poked a finger into her vagina, felt its stickiness, it’s
dripping wet stickiness, and smelled the sweet sinister musk of satanic sex pour
from it like an adorable, evil spirit that was going to drain every drop of my
soul but I didn’t care.
“Put your dick in me , Bob! Fuck me!” Lucina shrieked as she looked back at
me and snarled. I started to slip my wood into her pussy, bracing myself for the
pleasure I would feel, and then suddenly I heard something totally unbelievable,
like a voice coming from somewhere:
“Dad! I’m in here!”
“Huh?” I thought. What the hell was that?
“The other hole, Bob!” Lucina snarled. “Put it in the other hole!”
“Dad, I’m in here,” the voice said again. It was my son’s voice, but where
was it coming from?
“Which hole?” I said to Lucina, confused, baffled and bewildered.
“The witch hole!” Lucina screamed, reaching her hand around to her
ass, guiding a slender finger into her tight, brown, cute, adorable, inviting
anus. It was throbbing before me as Lucina used her sphincter muscles to
make it pulse up and down. Oh. My. God. I’d never fucked a girl—let alone one
this gorgeous—in the ass before.
As I watched, aroused and excited beyond belief, Lucina’s asshole throbbed up
and down, seeming to speak a haunting language of golden anal love . . . . then
I heard Junior’s voice again. I was both terrified and in awe—baffled beyond
belief – to tell where it was coming from. My son’s voice was coming from inside
Lucina’s beautiful, inviting asshole. Oh. My. God.
“Dad! I’m in her butt, Dad! I’m in Lucina’s asshole! My soul is trapped in
her ass now for all eternity! Stop, Dad, or the same thing will happen to you!”
No way, I thought, as I guided my hardon against the witch’s precious
brown-eyed orifice. There’s no way I’m not fucking this ass. I covered my shaft
with Lucina’s pussy juice, spat on it, and slowly, giddily, started to push it
in her rubbery, tight butt.
“Ooooooh, yeeeees,” Lucina moaned as she propped her upper body against the
bar, resting the side of her face near my warm beer, smiling in satisfaction as
I butt-fucked her.
“Keep pushing, baby,” she purred. “Stick that thing all the way in.”
“Oh god,” Lucina,” I said, my voice expressing unabashed gratitude. “I’ve
never stuck my dick inside a woman’s ass before. Does it hurt?”
“No, baby, it feels good. Keep going. I need you to cum inside me. Cum deep
inside my ass.”
I kept going, kept pushing, and had never felt anything so tight wrapped
around my cock before. It was ecstasy, and the further I jammed my thick boner
into her tight ass, the easier it seemed to fit; and in no time I was going in
and out of the witch’s ass like a pro, squeezing her ass cheeks and watching her
big titties sway back and forth as she milked my dick with her sphincter. I
smelled the raw, earthy odor emit from the pockets of air in her asshole I was
creating as my cock stretched it wider and wider with every thrust. No, there
was no way I wasn’t fucking this ass.
Then I heard my son’s voice again. “Ow! Dad! You’re hurting me!”
I heard Lucina cackle, laughing hysterically in between her moans of
pleasure.
“You’re hurting Junior, Bob,” she said. “But you’re not hurting me at all,
baby-- fuck that tight ass, baby; make it burn. Set it on fire.”
I did feel more friction creating a certain heat around my cock as I jammed
it deeper into the witch’s cavernous, warm shit hole. It got warmer and wetter
and tighter, yet more slippery and easier to fuck. I felt closer and closer to
cumming. Then suddenly, as I was about to ejaculate, a pocket of air was
released and an ethereal, smoky mist was seen streaming out of Lucina’s
butthole. It swirled around my cock at first, then swirled into the air above
me. I looked up at it as it slowly began to take on the appearance of a human
being. It wasn’t long until I realized it was my son’s spirit! I nearly wept
from sorrow and ecstasy as Junior’s spirit looked down upon me, a tortured
expression drawn on his ghostly face. He waved his non-corporeal hands and began
pleading with me:
“Don’t cum inside her ass like I did, Dad! Please pull out! Don’t cum
inside her ass, Dad! Cum on it!”
“Get back in there, you irresponsible, despicable kid!” Lucina screamed at
Junior, and almost immediately I heard my son screaming in agony—ethereal,
timeless, never-ending screams of damnation as his spirit was instantly sucked
back into the asshole I was fucking as I continued to fuck the tight, warm shit
hole, feeling it pump my cock for all it was worth; feeling my balls slap
against the witch’s wet pussy, knowing it was time to cum. Then I heard two
voices--
“Cum inside my ass, baby; do this for Lucina,” the witch said.
--And my son’s voice saying “I love you, Dad,” from deep inside the witch
hole, the deep, dark rectum of the gorgeous enchantress and sorcerous, sweet
Lucina, whom I will always think fondly of from this day forward. Because even
though she stole my child from me, trapped him inside her ass for ever and ever,
along with the screaming souls of many others . . . I will always have the sweet
memory of my screaming in orgasm.
I screamed so loud as I ejaculated, heeding my son’s advice and pulling my
dick out just in time. Fireworks of semen shot from my cock as I splattered
white, thick fluid all over Lucina’s tight ass cheeks. Wet, sticky drops of cum
hit her on the back, all over her ass, and even in her hair as I stood gasping,
holding my dripping, hard cock in my hand, bewildered and exhausted. I lowered
my head to pump the last of the jizz from my dick, watched it seep out, and when
I lifted my head again Lucina was gone. I was standing in the middle of this
college campus bar, a forty year old, balding man, stroking his cock out in
public, in front of all these people, while the kids all laughed at me and
heckled me hysterically. I didn’t care about them, though, or about Junior, or
Wendy, or anything. I had been to the Witch Hole and back and lived to tell this
tale.
"The End"
