Carny - October 10
Welcome to my serial Carny! I hope you enjoy this little Halloween treat. New episodes will appear every day through October.
Step right up! For just a dime see wonders beyond imagining!
And maybe we'll let you leave with your soul...
Step right up! For just a dime see wonders beyond imagining!
And maybe we'll let you leave with your soul...
Start here for Part 1
October 10
In the trailer she shared with Maggie, Andrea wanted a shower, but she’d have to wait to use the communal one in the morning. Once the midway closed, even after Big Mike had the security boys roust any townies lingering between the tents or under the stages, all the girls stayed in the trailers. Since August, there had been two rapes and an assault on or near the lot, and then the trouble in Parson’s Hollow. Big Mike had turned charmingly protective and brotherly toward the girls.
Andrea wasn’t stupid. She danced to provoke men, to arouse them, and she knew some of them fantasized about dominating her, maybe even hurting her. She teased fate every time she stepped onto the stage, no need to tempt real harm.
The crowd the second night in Teasdale was larger than on the first, so Doc had added more drama to his Devil story. He said the shaggy gaff was the very soul of lust and sin, something the devil had shed like a snake sloughs its skin, after a weekend of rape and orgies in France. Andrea pushed away the weirdness of her dance back in Parson’s Hollow, squashed down her misgivings, and danced for the Devil at the last show of the night. Again she mimicked sucking the figure’s cock. Her game must’ve been off, she thought nervously, because this time he didn’t come. Still, all that day and night, the crowds filled the midway and stood three deep outside Doc’s tent.
In her trailer, Andrea took off her G and rubbed her pussy. Horny, she thought, and wondered what Copley was doing. Dressed only in a cotton tee, she stepped to the dressing room table and dipped a sponge in the dirty bowl.
From behind her, long, cool hands slid over Andrea’s ribs, slender fingers riding up, lifting her shirt, cupping her breasts. In the cracked mirror, she saw Miss Fe’s green eyes and a hungry grin.
“Dear girl, I don’t know what I should do with you. You have made yourself already a star of the midway. Who needs Miss Fe now?” Smooth pads palmed her nipples. Andrea arched into the attention. The warmth on her back thinned her blood, her pulse quickening with each tweak of Miss Fe’s expert fingers. The older dancer kissed her shoulder with silky lips as one hand traced a line over Andrea’s ribs and slid into the trimmed thatch of her bare pussy. Desire tied a knot in Andrea’s belly, the languid lust Fe’s hands pulled from her tangled with a sudden, compelling need to hear the woman beg.
On all fours.
Her vision shimmered golden as she turned, took Miss Fe’s hands, and pulled her arms behind her back.
“I need you, Miss Fe. I do.” Andrea held her tight, bending to press her open mouth onto the thin cloth that covered the older woman’s breast and bit her nipple, shaking it between her teeth, drawing a satisfying cry. The shocked sound fell like gasoline on the fire of Andrea’s lust. Before Fe could recover, Andrea tore her wispy, linen robe away, exposing the swells and curves of a mature body.
She made a rope of the robe and tied Miss Fe’s hands behind her back, then attacked her breasts again, mercilessly licking and suckling, her tongue savoring the taste of salty flesh, the tremble of Fe’s body as Andrea exploited her. When Andrea’s fingers found Fe’s pussy, the silky moisture reminded Andrea of cream. Her clit was already a hard nub and Andrea stroked and teased until the only sounds Fe made were whimpers and whines. She kissed and nibbled at the Madame’s neck and shoulders, her fingers relentless in the woman’s cunt, pushing her toward orgasm then slowing, withdrawing her hand from the wet flesh to squeeze her ass, or play with her breasts. Again and again she pushed Miss Fe closer, raising the precipice higher with each withdrawal, each assault until Fe’s juices glistened in the hairs above her pussy and slicked the crack of her butt.
Andrea probed Fe’s ass with one rough finger while her thumb rubbed a swollen clit.
When the dancer stumbled, her knees trembling with need, Andrea’s own cunt throbbed. She withdrew her hand and helped the woman to her knees, positioned herself behind her, and pressed Miss Fe over. She knelt down and stroked the exposed ass, teasing her anus again, and slapping her butt with a hard, loud smack.
Miss Fe groaned, her face almost to the floor of the trailer.
Andrea continued the exquisite torture, sliding her fingers deep into Fe, pumping, fucking her with one, then two, then three, slowing and stopping again before Fe came.
The cry was almost feral. “Please, please Andrea. Don’t stop.”
A surge of power like nothing Andrea had ever experienced rushed into her, filled her, and boiled her blood. She laughed, freeing the energy and her own ecstasy as she pumped the older woman, and pistoned her own hips against the round, elevated ass, dominating Ms. Fe, fucking her with soul as much as her hand. Fe’s shivering cry of release shook the perfume bottles on the dressing table. Andrea came, biting her lip bloody to stifle her own scream.
She had played with girlfriends before, but this was different. Among the red afterglow, Andrea had the odd thought that she knew now just how a man felt after he had fucked a woman.
October 10In the trailer she shared with Maggie, Andrea wanted a shower, but she’d have to wait to use the communal one in the morning. Once the midway closed, even after Big Mike had the security boys roust any townies lingering between the tents or under the stages, all the girls stayed in the trailers. Since August, there had been two rapes and an assault on or near the lot, and then the trouble in Parson’s Hollow. Big Mike had turned charmingly protective and brotherly toward the girls.
Andrea wasn’t stupid. She danced to provoke men, to arouse them, and she knew some of them fantasized about dominating her, maybe even hurting her. She teased fate every time she stepped onto the stage, no need to tempt real harm.
The crowd the second night in Teasdale was larger than on the first, so Doc had added more drama to his Devil story. He said the shaggy gaff was the very soul of lust and sin, something the devil had shed like a snake sloughs its skin, after a weekend of rape and orgies in France. Andrea pushed away the weirdness of her dance back in Parson’s Hollow, squashed down her misgivings, and danced for the Devil at the last show of the night. Again she mimicked sucking the figure’s cock. Her game must’ve been off, she thought nervously, because this time he didn’t come. Still, all that day and night, the crowds filled the midway and stood three deep outside Doc’s tent.
In her trailer, Andrea took off her G and rubbed her pussy. Horny, she thought, and wondered what Copley was doing. Dressed only in a cotton tee, she stepped to the dressing room table and dipped a sponge in the dirty bowl.
From behind her, long, cool hands slid over Andrea’s ribs, slender fingers riding up, lifting her shirt, cupping her breasts. In the cracked mirror, she saw Miss Fe’s green eyes and a hungry grin.
“Dear girl, I don’t know what I should do with you. You have made yourself already a star of the midway. Who needs Miss Fe now?” Smooth pads palmed her nipples. Andrea arched into the attention. The warmth on her back thinned her blood, her pulse quickening with each tweak of Miss Fe’s expert fingers. The older dancer kissed her shoulder with silky lips as one hand traced a line over Andrea’s ribs and slid into the trimmed thatch of her bare pussy. Desire tied a knot in Andrea’s belly, the languid lust Fe’s hands pulled from her tangled with a sudden, compelling need to hear the woman beg.
On all fours.
Her vision shimmered golden as she turned, took Miss Fe’s hands, and pulled her arms behind her back.
“I need you, Miss Fe. I do.” Andrea held her tight, bending to press her open mouth onto the thin cloth that covered the older woman’s breast and bit her nipple, shaking it between her teeth, drawing a satisfying cry. The shocked sound fell like gasoline on the fire of Andrea’s lust. Before Fe could recover, Andrea tore her wispy, linen robe away, exposing the swells and curves of a mature body.
She made a rope of the robe and tied Miss Fe’s hands behind her back, then attacked her breasts again, mercilessly licking and suckling, her tongue savoring the taste of salty flesh, the tremble of Fe’s body as Andrea exploited her. When Andrea’s fingers found Fe’s pussy, the silky moisture reminded Andrea of cream. Her clit was already a hard nub and Andrea stroked and teased until the only sounds Fe made were whimpers and whines. She kissed and nibbled at the Madame’s neck and shoulders, her fingers relentless in the woman’s cunt, pushing her toward orgasm then slowing, withdrawing her hand from the wet flesh to squeeze her ass, or play with her breasts. Again and again she pushed Miss Fe closer, raising the precipice higher with each withdrawal, each assault until Fe’s juices glistened in the hairs above her pussy and slicked the crack of her butt.
Andrea probed Fe’s ass with one rough finger while her thumb rubbed a swollen clit.
When the dancer stumbled, her knees trembling with need, Andrea’s own cunt throbbed. She withdrew her hand and helped the woman to her knees, positioned herself behind her, and pressed Miss Fe over. She knelt down and stroked the exposed ass, teasing her anus again, and slapping her butt with a hard, loud smack.
Miss Fe groaned, her face almost to the floor of the trailer.
Andrea continued the exquisite torture, sliding her fingers deep into Fe, pumping, fucking her with one, then two, then three, slowing and stopping again before Fe came.
The cry was almost feral. “Please, please Andrea. Don’t stop.”
A surge of power like nothing Andrea had ever experienced rushed into her, filled her, and boiled her blood. She laughed, freeing the energy and her own ecstasy as she pumped the older woman, and pistoned her own hips against the round, elevated ass, dominating Ms. Fe, fucking her with soul as much as her hand. Fe’s shivering cry of release shook the perfume bottles on the dressing table. Andrea came, biting her lip bloody to stifle her own scream.
She had played with girlfriends before, but this was different. Among the red afterglow, Andrea had the odd thought that she knew now just how a man felt after he had fucked a woman.
Go on to October 11
Copyright 2011 Angela Caperton. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.
Copyright 2011 Angela Caperton. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.
Posted by Angela Caperton at 10/10/2011 6:51 PM 
Categories: Horror, Carny, Angela Caperton, Erotica
Tags: Angela Caperton erotica horror Carny
Categories: Horror, Carny, Angela Caperton, Erotica
Tags: Angela Caperton erotica horror Carny
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