Village Idiot

10 Min Read

Betty did not hear the footsteps. She was in
the kitchen looking out the window, watching wild geese
feeding in her back yard, but she had a creepy feeling
that somebody was watching her. Slowly she turned her
head, and gasped when she saw him standing there not
ten feet from her.

Some said he was autistic, some said crazy, but
most folks just considered him just not up to speed.

Billy was a handsome young man, if not too
sharp, and if you didn’t dwell on the funny look on
his face. But what he was known for, what people
whispered and giggled about, was his extra large
penis. Hung like a Rocky(H), he’d been caught running
around without his clothes last summer, they said he
had the biggest dick anyone had ever seen. At least
the was the talk around town.

“Billy,” she croaked, “What are you doing here?
Why didn’t you knock?” Billy grinned, but said nothing.
Instead, he dropped his pants and shorts, stepped out
of them and stood naked from the waist down, grinning
at her.

His body was almost perfect, and his cock began
to swell as she gazed in awe, dumbstruck at this turn
of events. She knew it would do no good to scream,
because he could be on top of her in a single bound.
His cock was full and stiff now as he moved. She felt
fear in the pit of her stomach as he moved toward her.

He put his hand over her mouth. Holding her
tightly, his hand pulled up her skirt, then dragged
her panties down to her knees. He lifted her so she
half-sat on the table. The table wobbled and two cups
rolled off onto the floor.

Betty was rigid, not breathing, as his head bent
and his mouth touched hers. She clutched at him. She
had heard that, although not very bright, he had the
gift. She had often wondered about that, the gossip
that he could bewitch a woman, but she had thought it
a joke. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Something bright and
tingling had flooded her being. He said against her
lips, “Scream for me.” He took her hand and placed it
on his throbbing cock.

She held her breath. Looking up, she saw his
slitted eyes like blue stones. Now that she knew what
he wanted she could not cease trembling. “P-please
don’t hurt me!”

“Hurt you?” His mouth touched hers again. The
caressing tip of his tongue slid against hers. He
pulled back and gave her a funny, grinning look. He
held her propped against the table with her skirt
hiked up, her underclothes stripped away, her sex
thoroughly exposed to him. She felt his hand between
her thighs. “I want you to cry and scream, and I want
you to beg me.”

For a moment she thought she would faint. Her
legs stiffened around him. “Don’t!”

In her ear he breathed, “Not that. Cry! Yell!

She felt the air cool on her naked legs. His
touch penetrated the folds of her feminine places and
stroked, softly relentless. Betty tried to pray, but
no words came.

This could not be happening to her. She was
sprawled against the table with her legs spread, her
skirt up, her blouse and bra gone to bare her breasts.
He was doing what he pleased, his hand between her
legs, and she was powerless to stop him. She gripped
his arms to keep from falling. His fingers found a
small button amidst her wet flesh. The nerve fire
there shot through her body and she cried out.

He thrust himself over her, his mouth seeking
hers, a strange fire in his lips. The gift! Betty
jolted and almost slipped from his grasp. At the same
time she felt him shudder. Something strange was
happening. A bolt of wild light flashed and seared
into their kiss. Deep in his throat, he rumbled. When
he drew back she saw that his eyes had changed. He was
breathing hard.

“I…” he said huskily. Abruptly, he buried his
head in the valley between her breasts.

Dazed, she stared up at the kitchen ceiling
above them. From the moment his hands had touched her
she had been helpless, a prisoner of terrible sen-
sations she could not explain. His gift. He was not
the only idiot, she thought with a sob. She felt his
mouth softly nuzzling her aching nipples.

She had lost her senses. All she could think of
was the image of him as his hands slipped down her
thighs. He was so beautiful, built like a Greek god.
Her knees went wide, waiting for him. Unwillingly her
hips pushed against him.

He lifted his head and she saw his face, his
brilliant eyes. There was a devil in him, she thought
wildly; he made her do this against her will. His gift.
He bent and his warm, wet mouth was on her breasts,
sucking, biting, teasing. The fire between her legs
had become a vortex shaking her, devouring her. Betty
bit back a scream.

God in heaven, this was what he wanted! He
wanted her to scream for him. Beg for him. She squirmed
against him. Her body had gone ridged. Her hands pulled
urgently at his bare hips, holding him to her.

“Ahhhh.” He bent over her, pressed against her
She could feel his hard, naked shaft, his bare legs
against hers. He bent and kissed her, his tongue into
her mouth “So sweet, so sweet,” he muttered against
her lips. “Ah, moan for me.” He put his mouth against
her cheek and she felt the stubble of his beard. “Beg
me,” he whispered into her ear. His gift.

She babbled something. The tip of his hard
cock was at her opened cunt. Straining, she hiked her
hips closer, trying to touch it. He growled, softly.
She was frantic, she hardly heard him. He pulled back
and that viselike hand slipped into her warmth, fingers
penetrating, then pulled out. She stiffened and cried
out, her hands clutching his bare shoulders. Then with
one heavy strong thrust he was inside her.

Betty screamed and went rigid under him. “Yes,
yes,” he said through clenched teeth, “scream and beg.”
She screamed again and heard a moan from deep inside
him. “Ah, God!”

His body contracted against hers. Sheathed
tightly in her, he moved with shuddering slowness,
kissing her face, her eyes, her lips, the curve of
her ear. The center of Betty’s body was flaming hot,
invaded and plundered by his massive cock. She writhed
under him, matching his motion with her
bucking body.

He lunged heavily into her. The table shook,
spilling dishes to the floor. She heard her own
frantic cries, dimly aware that nobody was nearby to
hear. She could do nothing; the feel of him in her
bodydestroyed the last of her reason. A terrible
ecstasy poured from his pounding; she sobbed that she
wanted him, hearing his wild words… that she was his
now. That he had burned to have her.

The heat built from his frenzied battering. She
dug her fingers in his tangled, golden hair. She pulled
at him, sobbing, straining for something unknown, until
at last his body clenched in convulsions. At the same
time Betty’s world exploded. As the firestorm peaked,
she shrieked, feeling torrents of wet warmth spurting
into her. He gave a low, tearing moan, arms wrapped
tightly around her, filling her with his heated sperm.

Then he screamed, “Momma!

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