Read Online The Devil's Touch by William W. Johnstone - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: William W. Johnstone
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own way, within her own small circle of friends— but lately that circle had grown much smaller, and she couldn't understand why—and carefully avoided those whom she felt were not subscribers of the teachings of Jesus Christ.
Jon smiled at her. "Hi, Patsy. If I'm disturbing you, I'll leave." The hell I will.
"Not at all, Jon. I'm glad to see you. Would you like to sit down?" She patted the ground beside him.
I'd like to play with your titties. "Sure." Jon sat beside her just as that heady hot feeling he had experienced back in his room once more swept over him. He looked at her Bible and felt a feeling of revulsion looking at it. How could anyone read that shit? What a fool he had been all those past years.
She closed her Bible and laid it aside. "It's so beautiful this time of the year. This is my very favorite season."
"Mine, too," Jon lied. He didn't have a favorite season. He just wanted some pussy.
Three months before, that word could not be found in his thoughts, much less in his vocabulary. Now it seemed a natural part of him.
She studied his face. "Is something troubling you, Jon? Would you like to discuss it with me?"
I'm going to discuss it with you. I'm going to stick some meat to you. "I know why you're here," he blurted.
"Oh?" She smiled at him.
"Yeah. So what are we waiting for?"
"Jon—are you all right?"
I'll be fine in about two minutes. "Look, Patsy, let's just get comfortable and get down to business."
"What?"
He reached for her, grabbing her roughly, one hand fumbling at her breasts. She fought away his hands and slapped him across the face.
Jon returned the slap, only much harder. The force of his blow stunned her. She fell limply into his arms.
"I knew you were just playacting," Jon said. His eyes were wild and hot with lust.
He tore her jacket from her and jerked off her shirt. He licked his lips at the sight of bare female flesh. She regained her senses and tried to fight him, but her struggles seemed only to give him more strength. He savagely tore her bra from her. The sight of her bare breasts was almost more than Jon could cope with. His growing erection was painful confined within his jeans.
He confused her by saying, "Stop pretending with me, Patsy!"
"Jon! Don't do this to me!" She fought his hands and again slapped him.
He hit her twice, rocking her head, addling her, her long hair whipping around her heart-shaped face. She felt the coldness of earth on her bare back.
Jon removed his leather belt and secured her wrists, binding them tightly. He tied the other end around a small sapling. "I've read about girls like you," he panted the words, lust making the words almost incomprehensible to her. "You bitches like it rough. Bondage. That's the word. That's the way you like it, huh—O.K., then that's the way it's gonna be."
She finally opened her mouth to scream and Jon slapped a hand over her lips and painfully wound the fingers of his other hand in her hair. His mouth close to her face, his breath hot on her cheek, he said, "If you want to live, don't scream. I don't know why you're doing this; don't know why you pretend you don't want to fuck me, but if you scream, I'll kill you. Do you understand that?"
Her eyes wide and frightened, she nodded her head.
Jon removed his hand from her mouth. "If you scream, Patsy, I'll make the hurt last a long time before you die. You'd better understand that."
"I believe you," she said softly.
He bent his head and sucked at her breasts and nipples while he worked off his jeans and underwear. He seemed oblivious to the cool air from the river. She felt his erection flop hot and heavy on her leg. She offered no resistance as he quickly undressed her and parted her legs. He tried to force his length inside her, but he was large and she was dry. He worked a finger inside her, then two. Finally moisture began to dampen her virgin tightness.
He tried again to force the head of his penis inside her. But he was so large and swollen all he
Jon smiled at her. "Hi, Patsy. If I'm disturbing you, I'll leave." The hell I will.
"Not at all, Jon. I'm glad to see you. Would you like to sit down?" She patted the ground beside him.
I'd like to play with your titties. "Sure." Jon sat beside her just as that heady hot feeling he had experienced back in his room once more swept over him. He looked at her Bible and felt a feeling of revulsion looking at it. How could anyone read that shit? What a fool he had been all those past years.
She closed her Bible and laid it aside. "It's so beautiful this time of the year. This is my very favorite season."
"Mine, too," Jon lied. He didn't have a favorite season. He just wanted some pussy.
Three months before, that word could not be found in his thoughts, much less in his vocabulary. Now it seemed a natural part of him.
She studied his face. "Is something troubling you, Jon? Would you like to discuss it with me?"
I'm going to discuss it with you. I'm going to stick some meat to you. "I know why you're here," he blurted.
"Oh?" She smiled at him.
"Yeah. So what are we waiting for?"
"Jon—are you all right?"
I'll be fine in about two minutes. "Look, Patsy, let's just get comfortable and get down to business."
"What?"
He reached for her, grabbing her roughly, one hand fumbling at her breasts. She fought away his hands and slapped him across the face.
Jon returned the slap, only much harder. The force of his blow stunned her. She fell limply into his arms.
"I knew you were just playacting," Jon said. His eyes were wild and hot with lust.
He tore her jacket from her and jerked off her shirt. He licked his lips at the sight of bare female flesh. She regained her senses and tried to fight him, but her struggles seemed only to give him more strength. He savagely tore her bra from her. The sight of her bare breasts was almost more than Jon could cope with. His growing erection was painful confined within his jeans.
He confused her by saying, "Stop pretending with me, Patsy!"
"Jon! Don't do this to me!" She fought his hands and again slapped him.
He hit her twice, rocking her head, addling her, her long hair whipping around her heart-shaped face. She felt the coldness of earth on her bare back.
Jon removed his leather belt and secured her wrists, binding them tightly. He tied the other end around a small sapling. "I've read about girls like you," he panted the words, lust making the words almost incomprehensible to her. "You bitches like it rough. Bondage. That's the word. That's the way you like it, huh—O.K., then that's the way it's gonna be."
She finally opened her mouth to scream and Jon slapped a hand over her lips and painfully wound the fingers of his other hand in her hair. His mouth close to her face, his breath hot on her cheek, he said, "If you want to live, don't scream. I don't know why you're doing this; don't know why you pretend you don't want to fuck me, but if you scream, I'll kill you. Do you understand that?"
Her eyes wide and frightened, she nodded her head.
Jon removed his hand from her mouth. "If you scream, Patsy, I'll make the hurt last a long time before you die. You'd better understand that."
"I believe you," she said softly.
He bent his head and sucked at her breasts and nipples while he worked off his jeans and underwear. He seemed oblivious to the cool air from the river. She felt his erection flop hot and heavy on her leg. She offered no resistance as he quickly undressed her and parted her legs. He tried to force his length inside her, but he was large and she was dry. He worked a finger inside her, then two. Finally moisture began to dampen her virgin tightness.
He tried again to force the head of his penis inside her. But he was so large and swollen all he
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