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A girl is gang banged by most of the boys from her senior class. An adult work, American Girl is a single story from the Carnal series.
In “American Girl,” Rafia Saad longs to be part of the in-crowd at her new high school. She meets Veronica Smith, one of Carnal High’s most popular seniors, who is only too eager to help shy Rafia find an appropriate place in the school’s social hierarchy. Veronica invites Rafia to a summer house party. But the position Veronica has in mind for Rafia involves one of the upstairs guest rooms and most of the boys in the senior class. Like a merry-go-round in a naughty amusement park, Rafia may end up giving each of her classmates a little spin.
Summer Shorts are brief, erotic stories, just long enough to get you sizzling. Each story takes place in the small town of Carnal, where it’s always burning, no matter what the season.
Excerpt of American Girl
“Fuck baby, fuck,” he whispered.
Rafia wrapped her long legs around his body, accepting him. Riding him. She ran her hands along his torso, the cotton fabric of his T-shirt. He had kept most of his clothes on, while she lay nude underneath him. He rode her this way for the next few minutes. For some reason, the fact of their unequal dress made her feel more vulnerable. Wanting the comfort of his bare skin, she sent her hands as far down his backside as she could, grasping for his bottom.
Then he groaned loudly. Raising himself up, he ground his cock inside her.
“Take it baby, Take it!” he whispered in a throaty voice.
The wide expanse of his chest loomed over Rafia. Such an attractive boy, his mouth twisted with lust, eyes screwed shut. And then he stopped. Collapsed. Sighed deeply. Rafia listened to his heavy breathing, felt the bulk of his sweaty head nuzzled beside her own.
Then Logan snorted. He chuckled.
Quickly rising, he made a shushing noise with his mouth. Touched his fingertips gently to Rafia’s lips. Snapping off a nearby lamp, he pitched the room into total darkness.
Rafia felt grateful for the shadows.
She wanted to collect herself. Felt aroused, but not sated. As she lay there, she was aware that he was moving about the room. She heard the door open, the sounds of the music and the people downstairs momentarily growing louder, then fading away as the door softly closed.
She had done it. Not entirely as she had expected, but things never seemed to happen the way you thought they would.
Her skin felt wet. His sweat, her own. As she lay there, she became aware of his cum leaking out of her. She hoped he had gone to retrieve a towel even as she heard the door to the room open again. The sound of the party, then the soft muffled thud of the door into its jamb. His return. Feet padding around in the dark. His feet.
Rafia willed herself not to look at him, though it would have been impossible to see him in the dim light anyhow. She wanted to affect the role of the wounded date. Meant to tell him about how rough he had been with her. Had he really ripped her sexy black panties? She felt annoyed. Meant to make him say her name—Rafia. Wouldn’t accept another “baby” from him for the rest of the night. American boys respected assertiveness.
But she didn’t want to be shrill. Not a bitch.
She raised her arms over her head and nuzzled her bottom into the couch. Tone was important. She felt the cool air on her damp underarms, enjoyed the stretch of her torso. Draped one of her slender legs over the back of the couch.
He knelt nearby the couch, his hand on her tummy. Rafia kept her gaze averted. Let him do some work to get her attention.
His hand moved to her breast, massaging her nipple. Cocking her arm over her eyes, Rafia enjoyed the feel of his fingertips on her body. He’d returned to make sure she’d get to come tonight. This thought pleased her. Sure enough, Rafia felt his hand on the inside of her thigh. She licked her lips, tried to remain absolutely still as he explored her. Perhaps he would use his tongue on her. When his light touch moved up her thigh to the hot spot between her legs, Rafia gave a soft moan. His thumb rubbed her clit. Gently rotating her hips, she wanted more of his touch. Could feel her own desire mounting.
He withdrew his hand and Rafia heard him unfasten his fly, lower his pants. Here was a boy with an ability to match his appetite!
Rafia smiled as he raised her knees toward her chest. She opened herself wide, gave herself over to him. He mounted her quickly, remaining upright. Though she had already surrendered the role of wounded date, Rafia kept her arm mostly across her eyes, the better to focus on her own hard breathing, the orgasm steadily mounting in her body.
She listened to the wet sounds coming from between her legs. His earlier deposit had left her wet, slippery. His cock popped out of her and he rubbed its fat head on her lips before sliding himself back inside. He pressed his hands on the backs of her thighs and pumped his hips with abandon. Rafia felt her own pressing needs rising.
Then he leaned forward and put his warm mouth on her nipple. She groaned out loud. Reaching for him, Rafia got the shock of her life—a head full of soft curls, a slim torso. This wasn’t Logan!
Reviews of American Girl
Extremely well conceived and written, with a believable heroine and a thoughtful – and thought provoking – story line. I can’t praise it enough. Strong, capable, and most of all ‘real’ women are all too rare in the stories here, and it was a genuine pleasure to meet Rafia and spend some time inside her head. I don’t agree with the choices she makes here, but I understand them completely. And that’s what good storytelling is all about. This one’s a keeper. Smashwords reader