Unhinged Terzo Widow

"Mare, what're you doing here? I thought you were playing a festival today?" You were used to him showing up during the weekend rush, if you could even call it that. Business was slower than usual with the weather being so shitty outside, though there'd been a steady trickle of customers just the same. "Got rained out. Y'know metal heads don't do back-up plans." He gave his spikey hair a quick shake, spraying water about like a wet dog. "Looks like m'all yours today, baby girl." "Lucky me," you muttered with a dramatic roll of your eyes. "You can hang out, but try not to be too obvious about it, okay? I got royally chewed out by the owner last week when you were here in the morning and still here when he came back at night." He flashed his typical don't-give-a-fuck pout he used any time you scolded him. "Psh, he should be stoked that anybody wants to come into this dump." He wasn't wrong, but you also weren't kidding. "Don't be shitty. I need this job." "Okay, fine." He brushed it off as he always did, mindlessly thumbing through the new shipment of vinyl you were trying to get in order if he'd just stop messing with them. "Y'not really mad at me, are you? You're usually a little bit happier to see me." You let out a weary sigh, trying to shake away the thoughts that had been hanging heavy on your mind lately. "No, I'm not mad, I'm just...Never mind..." "No, don't do that, älskling." He stilled both your hands and made you focus on him. "Talk to me." His rare serious tone stunned you for a second, but if he really wanted to know what you were thinking, you were going to give it to him. "It's just that. THAT exactly. You come in here and call me pet names and we steal kisses here and there. You treat me like you like me or something and then just like that you're gone." He blinked a few times. He really wasn't getting it. "We've never been together outside this store. I don't have your phone number. Hell, do you even know my last name?" "M'sorry..." He did look penitent, letting your hands drop to the counter so he could fidget nervously with his thumbs in what was left of his back pockets. "I'm just not used to girls wantin' to be seen in public w'me. Not nice girls, anyway." Oh. That...had not occurred to you. "Oh, Mary...I...I wouldn't mind. I mean...If you asked me." "Yeah? Okay then...I'm askin'." The confident swagger was back. It never stayed away for long. He leaned in to kiss you, but he didn't get far.

*BING BONG* 'Front door.'

"Behave yourself," you warned in a hushed tone, darting off to offer assistance and not missing the glimpse of Mary's wicked expression with the devil flashing in his smokey eyes. There was scarcely a time the rest of the day when there wasn't at least somebody in the store, but he never missed an opportunity when the place finally emptied. Backing you up against the nearest wall of records to kiss you hard, tongue snaking into your mouth more aggressively than he'd ever dared before, and all you could do was drape your arms around his neck and let him sweep you away in it. The next time he had you pinned to the clearance bin, latching onto your neck from behind, groping roughly at your breasts through your blouse and grinding his growing erection against the cleft of your ass. "Mary...We can't keep doing this," you panted breathlessly when he pinched your nipples through the thin lace of your bra and coaxed a raspy moan from you. "We're playing with fire here...Somebody's gonna see." "Let `em see. I want `em t'see." He was rutting against you harder now, hard enough that it was a miracle he hadn't cum in his pants yet. "Want every cunt who comes in here to know how bad I want you, baby." And if you'd just leaned forward and arched your back a little so he could rub his thick cock along your slit instead...

*BING BONG* 'Front door.'

"Fucking hell," you groaned, pushing him off you and tucking your shirt back into the waistband of your skirt, just hoping your flushed face and shortness of breath didn't completely give you away. The next time it happened you were in the back stock room, which was little more than a closet, and definitely too cluttered to a proper romantic encounter. But that didn't stop him, he had you spun around and slammed against the closed door before the most recent customer had even made it through the exit. "Mary, what the-" You squealed it louder than you meant to, but being suddenly thrown into darkness made you lose your cool. "Shhh, baby girl." He covered your mouth gently, removing his hand to kiss you quick. "You don't wanna make a scene, do you?" "You can't be back here," you hissed, but he was already frantically unbuttoning your top and you weren't doing anything to stop him. "You say that now, but you n'I both know under that slutty little skirt you're throbbin' for me..." You have got to stop wearing that skirt. That thing is how you got into this mess in the first place... "Please, Mare...You're gonna get me in trouble..." His hand snaked past the waist of your skirt, past the damp lace of your panties, deft fingers tracing a teasing line along your slit that made your legs start to tremble. "Shit, baby. You're fuckin' drippin'." He stroked gently, and even in the dark you could hear that he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "This all f'me?" "Mary, please...Ah AH!" Two long fingers slid through your clenching entrance and your knees buckled. If his lanky weight hadn't been pressing into you you would have been on the floor. He didn't waste any time, playing your innards like he played his guitar, fucking his fingers into you in time with the snapping of your hips. "Keep squeezin' my fingers just like that." He could feel you starting to tighten, never mind the way you'd started to shake and the needy mewls he was forcing out of you with every pump and curl of his skilled digits. "Mary...Fuck..." You clutched at his shoulders when your head started to spin. "I'm right here, baby girl...Just let go for me, I got you..." His soft words alone could have sent you over the edge if not for-

*BING BONG* 'Front door.'

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," you huffed as he pulled his fingers from your quivering grip, fully laughing at your misfortune and lapping your juices from his fingers. "Sorry, baby. Duty calls." The little shit was actually enjoying this. The last push before the end of the day was worse than usual. Not because of the steady flow of business, or even the customers that seemed determined to linger, but more because of the way your bruised nipples chafed against the fabric of your bra and the trickle of your arousal that kept leaking down the insides of your thighs. And yet Mary lurked in the corner, leaning nonchalantly against the wall and flipping through magazines like he hadn't just been knuckle-deep in your pussy. Another patron left and suddenly he was behind you, breathing hot on your neck, hands already wandering over your curves and groping at anything he could along the way. "We finally alone?" "Still one left in one of the listening booths. A regular." You were breathless and he'd barely even touched you. "He always stays in there for hours and never buys anything." "For hours, huh? Good, he won't hear you scream." He gave you a light shove, just enough to make you tumble forward and brace yourself against the counter. His hands worked at lightning speed to hike your skirt up around your waist and pull your soaked panties to one side. "Why are you doing this?" He lined the head of his cock up with your waiting hole, his own pre-cum mixing lewdly with your slick as he coated himself with it. "You could have any girl you want. Why pester me?" "`Cause you're the one I want. Just you."

He slid into you in one deep, slow thrust and paused when he felt your body tense, a weak cry escaping your parted lips. "Y'okay, baby? Can you take it?" He brushed his lips against your temple, giving your hips an affectionate squeeze. "Don't wanna hurt you..." You'd seen his notorious bulge onstage enough times to know that he'd be a physical challenge, but nothing could have prepared you for how full you felt in that moment. The sting was sharp, the pull on your overstretched flesh was intense, and fuck did it feel good. You managed a small nod and any discomfort or nerves were forgotten when he started to move, rocking his hips, leading you through the easy rolls with a bruising grip. "That's my girl," he cooed. It was deliciously unhurried in spite of how eager he'd been to bury his cock in you, and the friction of him writhing against you, hitting all the right spots inside your clinging walls, had you reaching back to clutch at his long neck to try to stay on your feet. It all happened so fast, hours of edging only to lead to seconds of fucking before the pressure in your gut was more than you could stand. He felt it, he read your body well enough to know you were coming apart at the seams, and a few circles of his fingers on your clit was all it took while the other hand covered your mouth to stifle your screams. Your legs gave out from under you and he did his best to keep you upright, continuing to move with you through the unrelenting waves that rippled through your walls and milked him almost painfully hard. When your body went limp he held onto you, peppering your face and hair with kisses as your head lolled side to side against his broad shoulder. "You okay, baby?" "I...I don't think I can move." You weren't exaggerating. Your legs felt like lead and you were drenched in sweat. "C'mon, älskling. Gotta pull yourself together." He eased out of you as gently as he could and you pulled your skirt back down while he'd adjusted himself back into his pants. When you still seemed too dazed to function, swaying where you stood, he produced a small silver flask from his hip pocket and held it to your lips so you could take a long pull. The liquor burned your already raw throat, but at least it stopped your hands from shaking. "You didn't cum." It was half-question, half-statement, and he could hear the sudden tone of insecurity in your voice. He kissed you tenderly before resting his forehead against yours. "M'just not ready for this first time to be over yet. Wanna make it last." There was a rustling in the last occupied listening booth, and you tried your best to wipe the sweat off your brow and smooth back your tousled hair. The door opened and you tried to slow your breath before speaking. "Just leave the ones you don't want in there. I'll take care of putting them back." "Thanks. Have a great week!"

*BING BONG* 'Front door.'

Closing time. You were finally alone. "So...What now?" You tried to hide the unsure tremor in your voice. "Well, I did promise to take y'out, after all." He helped you gather your things while you shut down the register, folding up the rickety ladder and tucking it away. "So I figure dinner, then maybe some drinks...See what clubs have live music tonight..." "You're gonna go like that?," you chuckled, gesturing to his still very visible erection straining at the worn denim. "Wouldn't be the first time," he quipped, wrapping a gangly arm around your waist as you headed out the door to lock up. "`Sides, gotta let people know why a catch like you'd be with a dirtbag like me." You gave him a sharp elbow to his bony ribs and leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder as you made your way together into the cool summer night.

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She was so consumed with her troubled thoughts that she didn't hear the clicking of heels on the stone floor slowly approaching, and she jumped when the lean, black-clad figure entered her peripheral vision. "Huh?!...Oh, Cardinal, it's you. You startled me. Nobody ever comes here anymore..." He waved a gloved finger with a mock-scolding smile. "Ah ah ah...It is Papa now, remember?" She blushed, uncomfortable to her core to address him by the title in such a sacred space. "Right...Of course...My apologies, Papa." "I was just stopping by to make sure everything is order for my own portrait to be unveiled." He ran his finger along the ornate frame that held Terzo's picture and grimaced at the dust it collected, looking up at him with thinly-veiled distain. "The place certainly could do with a good cleaning..." He sat down next to her, confidently extending an arm on the back of the bench behind her narrow shoulders, leaning in a bit too close. "And you, Sister...Why is it that I so often see you sitting in here with such a...dreary expression?" She smiled wistfully, weighing just how much of herself she should disclose to the new Papa who filled her with such unease. "When I was old enough to be able to venture out of the orphanage wing on my own at night, I would come here to visit the Papas. I'd make conversation like, 'Nice weather we're having, Papa Primo', or, 'Your sermon for Black Mass was lovely, Papa Secondo'." He watched her with rapt attention, though his focus was more on the movements of her plump lips and heaving of her chest than her words. "Once his portrait was hung, it was the one I was drawn to more than any before. And it was always the same...'So nice to see you, Papa Terzo, and how are you this evening?'" "And how did he answer?" His voice was flat, his dislike of the man tainting every word. She sighed heavily at the memory that now felt like a lifetime ago. "'Better now that you are here, bellisima.'"

His smile widened, but there was an unmistakably green smolder behind his eyes. "You had, eh...A bit of a crush?" She bit at her bottom lip nervously, smoothing back stray tresses to hide her flustered reaction to his words. "I suppose so." She could feel his warm breath on her neck, what little distance was left between them shrinking and stealing the air from her lungs. "And were you...Attracted?...Aroused?" The low purr of his voice was making it hard for her to think clearly and words were tumbling out of her mouth beyond her control. "Yes...I-I wasn't sure what I was feeling...It was new." "Heart beating a little faster in your...ample young bosom?" She tried to ignore the way his eyes wandered over her body, leering and predatory, but it was growing more difficult by the second. "Y-Yes." "And what did you do with these new feelings, little one?" His lips barely brushed against her pulse point, just enough to make her stomach start to flutter. "Did you touch yourself?" Her breath caught in her chest, and she cursed herself internally for her body's visceral reaction to his nearness, his warmth against her exposed flesh, the friction of leather sliding up her inner thigh. "Sweet lamb, there is no need to be embarrassed. What you were feeling and what you did are both very natural. A young woman's relationship with her Papa is a very special thing. I only hope that someday you consider me your Papa, eh?" His palm slid over supple flesh, barely reaching her apex before retreating again, giving the faintest of feather-light brushes against the growing wet spot on her panties only to leave her trembling from the sensation. "Papa?...W-What are you doing?" She knew she should put a stop to whatever was happening. She was an adult now, wasn't she? And perfectly capable of setting clear boundaries. And yet...Every motion of his skilled hands only made her legs spread wider to give him better access to his prize. Her eyes popped open when his hand disappeared suddenly, gently nudging under her chin to force her focus to his piercing, mismatched eyes. "Shhh, little one...Just let Papa make you feel good." He pressed his lips to hers, soft but claiming, and when he felt her body shiver and relax he slid his hand under her skirt and hooked a finger into the waistband of her modest white cotton underwear, wrapping a strong arm around her waist to help her shift enough for him to slide them down her shapely legs. She looked up to her beloved Papa with pleading eyes as if he might come to life and rescue her, save her from her own wanton desires. "What a shame he never truly saw you like this," he muttered against her ear as he bunched up the hem of her habit against her quivering stomach. "Such a lovely pussy...So plump and pink...So desperate for pleasure...So ready to be used and defiled in Satan's name..."

Her focus remained on Terzo's handsome but stern face, too afraid to look into the eyes of the man who held her in place with an iron grip, panic bubbling in her gut, arousal pooling hot and aching in her core. He brought her tiny fingers to his mouth, wetting them on his tongue before pressing them against her clit and guiding her to stroke and rub it gently. "Show me, angel. Show me how you touched yourself when you were here alone. When you thought of Papa's tongue...Papa's fingers...Papa's cock inside you..." His last words made her moan, letting her trembling thighs fall open wider. He pulled one across his lap, giving him a better view and access to her dewed sex, his erection pressing hard and pulsing against her plush thigh. "Show him." He waited for her to find a steady rhythm, slow circles around the eager bud that swelled under her touch. He kissed her with growing possession, breaking to give her soft words of encouragement until her lips fell slack, only able to pant ragged breaths into his open mouth. "I'm going to fuck you with my fingers now," he said calmly. "Are you ready for me?" "Y-Yes, Papa...I'm ready..." Her eyelids fluttered closed and she tried to focus on the pressure building in her core and block out the lewdness of it all. "Just p-please be gentle." He slid just his middle finger into her at first and she took it easily, already so dripping wet and teetering on the verge of orgasm. "More, little one?" She nodded with a needy whimper and his first digit was joined by a second. He felt her breath catch with a tiny mewl, but the sting of the new stretch dissipated into pure heat, and before long her hips were bucking to meet every pump of his deft fingers. Her own touch was faltering, her strokes growing more erratic, and the sensation of his knuckles breaching through her tightening entrance only became more intense with each snap of her hips, her free hand twisting in the silk of his shirt until her knuckles turned white. "Is this how you pictured it?," he growled as he felt her body start to shake, her inner walls clenching as he stroked the sensitive, spongy spot within. "Writhing and pleading like a little slut?...Wishing your tiny fingers were thick, gloved ones instead?...Now look at you...And all with your beloved Papa watching your sweet little pussy getting stretched open for another..." Her head fell to his shoulder when the sensation overtook her. "Y-Yes, Papa...Oh, yes..." "Cum for him now, sweet girl. Show him how much pleasure his successor can give your little body." She cried out weakly, muffled against the muscular pillar of his neck, her whole body wracked with tremors, her release gushing violently and pooling on the marble tile between her feet. She clamped down so hard around him that he had no choice but to hold his hand still, rocking her gently through each lingering spasm until she was limp and whimpering in his arms. "My angel...You have done well...Very well...," he praised. "You cum so beautifully...So perfectly..." He held his hand up in front of her face, her juices running in thick streams that he lapped up from the buttery leather. "And so much nectar...All for Papa." He stood up suddenly, leaving her to slump in her seat while she fought to catch her breath. He approached the painting, facing Terzo eye to eye with a satisfied grin. "Don't you wish you had been able to taste her first, eh? Here you go, Papa. Buon appetite, stronzo." He smeared her slick across his predecessor's painted face with a grim chuckle before turning back to his young conquest.

Clutching her hands and pulling her to her feet onto wobbly legs, he positioned her without any resistance to lean forward and brace herself against the frame of the portrait. pressing himself tightly against his back to keep her still. "I have been waiting quite some time for you, little one." He rolled her skirt up around her waist, spreading her legs farther apart with one hand and placing the other on the small of her back, encouraging her to arch for him. "I am going to enjoy feeling your tight little flower taking every inch of me..." The sobering realization hit her like ice water, and the shameful lust she'd felt only moments ago was replaced with fear. "But I...But I...Papa, I've never-" He stroked and squeezed her haunches as if he was trying to tame a frightened animal, but his voice was an ominous, rumbling threat. "You do not want to disappoint your Papa, do you?" Things were moving too fast, too much out of her control. "No..." "That is what I thought." Her hands left her for a moment once he was satisfied that she wouldn't try to escape, and she could hear the unmistakable metallic sound of a zipper and the rustling of fabric behind her. "Then let Papa show you what your little body is made for." She pinched her eyes shut when she felt the heat and pressure of his swollen head against her entrance, whispering a useless, barely audible prayer to the Dark Lord for mercy. He entered her in one long, slow thrust until he felt her tense and squeeze the polished wood under her hands. "P-Papa...Please...It h-hurts..." "I know, my dear, I know. I promise it will feel good soon." He circled his hips slowly, giving her time to relax, for the sharp sting to fade into a throbbing ache, pleasure and pain warring inside her straining walls. But he didn't wait for her to be ready, too full of blood-lust by then to think of anything but his own pleasure and pride and glaring smugly at the face above. Once he started pumping into her tight spongy depths it was like lighting gasoline with a match and her pained whimpers fell on deaf ears.

"That's it...That's it...," he grunted, wrapping his hand around her neck to force her into an even more bowed, contorted position. "Show him how much you love giving your cunt to Papa." Tears were pooling in her eyes, more from the grief than the pain. And yet every time he pulled out of her snug grip she awaited the next slam of his hips into hers like an addict craving their next hit. "Who is your Papa now?," he panted, leaning forward to huff it against her ear but still leering up into Terzo's towering presence as he pounded into her tender flesh. "Y-You...You are...," she whimpered, voice breaking pitifully. He twisted her hair around his leather-clad fist and yanked her head up to force her focus on the deposed man's face, still dripping with her release. "Don't tell me, whore, tell him!" "H-He's my Papa now," she groaned. "Tell him who your pussy belongs to," he growled. "Say it!" Tears were spilling down her cheeks by then, shame burning them while nausea twisted in her gut and her walls tightened and started to quiver. "My pussy is his now...I'm his..." Her strained words only made him fuck into her harder and deeper than ever, and the intensity making her vision blur, a loud ragged scream parting her lips and echoing through the sacred hall, the most intense orgasm she'd ever felt quaking through her entire body. He pulled out abruptly, releasing his iron grip on her and letting her crumple to the floor, fucking into his fist and spraying a thick, abundant stream of his seed across the portrait with an animalistic roar. And just like that, they were in silence. She looked up from where she'd fallen to see him spraying the last few spurts onto Terzo's elegant spats with a proud smile. He leaned in tight to the dead man's face, hissing just loud enough for her to hear. "Who is Papa now?" He looked down at her with cold, unfeeling eyes as he adjusted himself back into his sleek pants, smoothing back his hair and already looking like nothing at all had happened. "Perhaps I will call on you here again when my portrait is revealed. We can christen it together, eh?" He turned on his heels and strode out of the Chapel gallery, whistling a familiar tune as he went. And she collapsed, body still trembling through aftershocks, sobbing as Terzo loomed from above, unphased.

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