of Purity

Amy was one of those girls that people looked past. She was well liked and respected by her workmates but no one really cared that she went home alone to an empty one-bedroom apartment at night. Her teeth were insanely crooked and her skin was left with the scars of chicken pox or some other childhood illness. The nose that graced her face belonged on the face of a man associated with either hockey or the mob and her hair was stringy, but I suspected that was from a lack of education on how to care for it rather than genes. And while I?m not a firm believer that make-up solves all problems, I do maintain that some individuals need at least a little bit of it?she wore none. Her dress habits were staunch, above the waist. Nothing below mid throat showed at all times. But for some odd reason, she wore skirts regularly. Some were modest, but a few were above the knee and that?s when I first took notice. Those legs were the most fantastic I had ever seen.

I remember the first day that I allowed myself to take notice of her legs. I was sitting at my desk and she walked by. She?s very chipper and takes great pride in knowing everybody?s names. She was just passing by and merrily called out my name as a greeting. I was lost in a business journal and snapped up just in time to see her going away from me. That smooth skin and subtle curve of her calves bled into upper thighs that just begged to be touched and finally it all ended with the most gorgeous bulbous ass. And then a sudden instantaneous vision of those legs high in the air wrapped around my back, clutching me to enter her further shot through my mind?s eye.

I nearly fell out of my chair.

Now this is the part of the story where I suppose you expect me to launch into the Cinderella story. How I fell in love with this ugly duckling and by the power of my love alone, transformed her into a diamond in the rough. Well, to fit any more clichés into a sentence would not only be a crime against English majors everywhere but it would also be completely against my character.

You see, I?m a letch; a down and dirty foul-minded letch. Let me explain a bit further?this girl and I, we work together at a catholic mission.

I grew up in the church. I know all the rhetoric and while I decided early in my life that none of it was for me, I also found that the contacts it lent me and the positions that it granted me were enough to stay within the warm bosom of the organization despite my hypocrisy. Another thing I had discovered was that it granted me access to pussy. When I was eighteen I not only took the virginity of a devote patron at the church I was then working as an assistant at, but I also was able to completely transform her into a wanton slut who later, I found out, could not go a single day without a full-on fuck from anyone handy. I love shit like that. When I hear of innocence being mocked and traded for pure evil lust, I get so horny I have to beat myself off in the bathroom just to make it through the day.

So later I found myself offered a job proofing documents at a large corporate mission that helped feed orphans in India. The fact that all these women are around me and find my presence at such a good cause irresistible was the main reason I took the position although in my interview I made it sound like it was my life?s calling. Within the week I had the lady from HR that sat in my interview committee, pinned against a bathroom stall, one foot on the toilet paper dispenser, the other pushing up against the back of the toilet as she let gravity pull her heavily down upon my bursting cock.

So I got my share of T&A. Most guys either don?t believe me or are so envious of me that they can?t stand to be around me. So when I first discovered Amy, I had no one to really talk to about it. The bonus was that Amy was such a ditz that most of the guys teased her constantly and pretty much couldn?t have cared less that I wanted to ask her out. That meant they?d leave me alone and her alone and no one would be around to ask any questions that could spoil my plans.

I started going home at night and obsessing about her. As I started discretely making mental notes at work I realized that she had C cup breasts that seemed to float unnaturally high on her chest. Her waist seemed pencil thin making her hips and chest all the more inviting. I would look at her figure walking up the cubicle hallway and immediately see my tongue riding the roller coaster of her curves. Absolutely nothing on her body needed work of any kind. She was a natural porn star if only I could do something about the neck up.

However the biggest hang up came not from her face but rather from her purity. It was easy asking her out on dates. Guys didn?t pay her any attention. They couldn?t get past the face or the low IQ. So any man paying her attention she jumped at and I knew I could use that in my favor. After about three dates of the regular dinner and movie fare I decided to move in for first based. We were standing outside her apartment since I always walked her to her door (had to keep up the gentlemanly facade), when I leaned in with my eyes closed. She responded with a quick peck to my lips and then stepped back into the doorway alcove. I feigned disappointment?in reality it was exactly as I had expected?and she in turn became very nervous. I asked her if she didn?t like my attentions and the conversation quickly fell into how she was saving every part of herself for her wedding night. Not even a real kiss would be had by any man until the vows were in place. Later I would look back at this conversation while I was hammering her twat and laugh. In fact, even later than that, when she had five cocks hovering over her body (this was almost a year later, after her transformation), one in her cunt and another up her ass, I brought it up. Over the din of the affirmations and moaning I asked her whatever happened to saving herself. Her response? ?Fuck THAT!? Man, I have never laughed so hard.

But I?m getting ahead of myself. At this point in Amy?s life she still had the teeth, the face, and the rather obtrusive nose?and she still had the virginity. At that moment, while I was formulating a plan, I really had no clue how to start. I had to go slowly or else the transformation wouldn?t happen. If I did anything rash she would wake up the next morning with regret and regret leads to emotional scars. No, I wanted her to beg for it. I wanted her to believe that her descent into sexual immorality was all her own idea. I needed something basic and simple that would allow me in to Amy?s pants, and more importantly, keep me in Amy?s pants.

But as I said, I?m a patient and evil man.