1. The Shoplifter Chapter One


    Date: 9/1/2017, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Interracial, Pregnant, Author: Barbiebnympho, Rating: 85.2, Source: sexstories.com

    garage, found a clean old towel Dad used on the cars, and quickly wiped my legs and the car seat. The house was empty. Thank goodness no one was home. I headed straight up to my bathroom. My skirt and blouse and bra hit the floor. I was nude as I turned toward the shower and saw my image in the mirror. I was startled by my breasts. They were very red and already an array of bruises had formed on them. He had been far rougher than I realized. Why would I not have been aware what he was doing to me? I showered, hot, long; washing every inch of my body. My sex was so tender and swollen it was frightening. I tried to wash it thoroughly, but very gently. Just the lightest touch caused reaction. I could feel my lower tummy tumbling over and over, cramping and convulsing. Finally finished with the shower I dried carefully and started to dress. I slid into clean white panties only to find they were soaked by the time I had them on. I turned to find some shorts. Kyle’s soccer game was out for me. No way I could go anywhere like this. Physically I was a wreck and emotionally I was worse. I took off the wet panties, threw them into the wash basin, washed and hung them on the shower rod and put on my pretty blue robe. Nude under the robe, I went into my bedroom, shut the door, fell on the bed and cried. My regret and sorrow was inconsolable. I was a shoplifter, a felon, a slut who had bribed the security guy with my body to avoid jail. I lay there sobbing. I was exhausted. I was no ...
    longer the cute young virgin girl, I was a whore. I had traded him my body to stay out of jail. All the sweet attempts Kyle had made to just touch me here or there and now I had to give it all away to a big black stranger to stay out of jail. Somehow sleep swept over me, fitful at first, but exhaustion took over. It was sometime later when the phone rang. It was Sybil checking in on me. She had missed me at the soccer match—she would not have gone if she had known I was not going to be there. I had to explain I was not feeling good. “Are you having your period?” She asked right away. “No.” I answered weakly, as a shudder passed over me once agan. My period! I trembled again. I had not thought about my period. I never kept much track of it. I had no reason. When did I last have my period? I was panicked. It took five minutes to get Sybil off the phone and find my school calendar on my desk. It took another two or three minutes to study the dates and decide my period had just ended early last week—about eight days ago—I thought. So when did it start? Wasn’t that the important thing? Or had it ended late last week, maybe ten days? How do you count the days? What day do you start the count? Confusion overwhelmed me. Horrible health class memories swept over me. I hated health class—horrible pictures of pregnant women. I was a wreck. Finally I forced myself to calm down a bit. I tried to think about the odds. I should be ok, he sexed me just one time—no really he sexed me twice, or ...
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