Raw Virgin Night in the Haunted Barn: My Wild Fuck with Clément

Rain drips through the cracked roof of the Busson brothers’ barn, near that creepy Esteveaux cemetery. Lightning cracks the sky. Me, Mariette, Pénélope, and Clément sprawled on hay bales. Summer nights always end here, spilling secrets. We’re 18 now. Still virgins. Tension hums like my phone would’ve buzzed after days of filthy chats – but back then, it was just us, raw need building.

Last year, we joked: pay him 500 francs for his body. Tonight, storm raging, Mariette shoves the wad at him. ‘Remember?’ His eyes widen. Thunder booms. He glances at our hungry stares. Cheeks flush. ‘Fuck it, okay.’ Heart slams in my chest. No more talk. Action. He strips shirt, lies back on the blanket. Shorts tent slightly. Air thick with wet earth, his musky scent hitting me first time up close. Urgency burns. Can’t wait.

The Approach

Pénélope yanks shorts down. Boxer clings. I unzip slow, teasing. His cock flops out, thick even soft, balls heavy below. Pubes trail up navel. We circle like wolves. Fingers graze thighs. He twitches. ‘Touch it,’ I whisper. Mariette palms balls, soft sack fuzzy. I peel foreskin. Gland gleams pink. He groans low, hips buck.

‘Turn over.’ Mariette spreads cheeks. Tight pink hole winks. She lubes finger with spit, probes. Prostate swells under her touch. Clément writhes, cock hardening against dirt. Pre-cum beads. Flip him. Now erect – fuck, huge. Veins pulse. We grip. Stroke fast. Gland hypersensitive, slick. His breaths ragged. Balls tighten. Almost…

Floor splinters under us. Crash into dark cave. Mud cushions. Briquet flickers – old bed, clippings of murders. Panic. Pénélope gone. Tunnel reeks of rot, rats skitter. Growls ahead. Naked beast, hairy hulk, pins her. Cock monstrous, raging. ‘Your turn, pretty boy!’ He lunges at nude Clément. Slams him down. Gland prods ass. Clément grabs rock, smashes skull. Beast flops dead.

The Explosion

Clément gasps, bruised, cock still semi-hard from before. Mud-smeared god. I straddle, kiss fierce. ‘My hero.’ Hands stroke chest, nipples hard. Mariette sucks deep, throat gulps. Revives him full mast. My turn. No condom, pure raw. Sink on cock. Stretches me virgin tight. Pain-lust mix. Bounce savage, rain pounding above. Slaps echo. ‘Fuck me harder!’ He thrusts up, hands grip ass. Balls slap wet. Orgasm rips – walls clench, he floods hot inside.

Mariette rides next, moans dirty. Pénélope fingers self watching, then laps cum. We take turns, greedy. His load endless, spurting again on tits, faces. Bodies slick sweat, mud, jizz. Peak frenzy.

Dawn breaks. Staircase up to cemetery. Brother Busson’s grave stares: ‘Wish we’d found his body.’ Clothes ragged. Hugs quick. Drive off separate. Strangers by winter. Phone silent now. Just memory’s throb.