Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Note: This is the very first sex story I have ever written.  It was
inspired by my own frustration at being estranged from my wife and it was
motivated, in part, by my feelings for her.  The story is, however, pure
fantasy, but I wish that I could, somehow, get my wife to read it.  I'd
appreciate any and all feedback that the reader would kindly provide. 
Email at syemun@yahoo.com Thanks.



   It was a hot and humid Wednesday afternoon in apartment 313 at
Cedarbrook Terrace.  The raw sunlight that blazed through the large living
room windows scorched everything within, either living or otherwise,
turning Ricardo and Carmella's place into a sweltering sauna for most of
that day.  With the central air conditioning being upgraded throughout the
low-rise, there wouldn't be any relief from the heat until at least late
tomorrow morning.

   Hector, short and barrel-like with hard, knotted muscles rippling
beneath shiny sweaty black skin, sat on one side of the dark gray sofa,
idly flipping through TV channels.  He was dressed in an old sweat stained
dark green t-shirt with a faded and obviously inebriated monkey holding an
overflowing beer mug.  Hector paused on Channel 7, CityTV, for a few
moments to ogle the sweet young fox in tank top and shorts, standing
outside City Hall.  She was interviewing an elderly couple heading into one
of the City's designated Heat Relief Shelters.  Hector didn't mind the heat
so much as it allowed him to enjoy the city's numerous nubile inhabitants.

   Bill sat on the other side of the couch, profusely sweating his fat,
bald and sickly pale self while idly flipping the pages of the Toronto Star
newspaper.  Anyone seeing him from ten stories above would probably not
have been able to distinguish him from any large puddle of melting vanilla
ice cream.  He paused to look up as the weather forecast was announced,
hoping for news of a break from the heat wave.  He stared at the
weatherbitch, Cindy O'Connor, for that was what she was in his professional
opinion, and strained his eyes through his coke bottle glasses trying to
make out her bra-less nipples.  His cock stirred with life as he
momentarily forgot the weather and focused on thoughts of sucking on those
sweet nubs, so wantonly displayed through her thin cotton top.

   "She's a hottie," Bill said lustfully.  "What I wouldn't give for a go
at her," he finished by touching his fingers to his lips in a kissing
motion and blowing it at the TV screen.

   "Like you'll ever have a chance with a girl like that, you fat bum,"
said Hector, leaning over and slapping hard at the roll of fat hanging over
Billl's cut-off jeans.  His hairy naked man boobs drooped down and his
belly sagged over the waistband of his shorts.  Bill was obstinately proud
of his admirable physique and was oblivious to the disdain of others who
did not feel likewise.

   "Gotcha, ya motherfuckin sonofabitchin whore fly," Ricardo, or just Rick
to everyone who knew him, whooped in triumph, doing a victory dance with
the rolled up newspaper that he had just used to whack the fly.  He paused
near Hector and dropped the fly-stained newspaper in his lap.

   Hector yelped and jumped off the edge of the couch, sending the
newspaper flying into John's lap, who had been sitting cross-legged on the
floor.  Hector had a severe aversion to flies, as far as he could remember
since his infancy.  He would shiver convulsively for seconds afterwards, if
a housefly happened to alight on his naked skin.  He hated all creepy
flying bugs.

   "Goddammit, Rick!," yelled Hector.  "You do that again and I'll toss you
off the balcony!  I swear to God I will, man," he promised as an
afterthought as he stomped off angrily into Rick's kitchen, yanked open the
refrigerator, pulled out a cold beer and came back to fall down on the
couch.

   "Fuck you, Hecky," Rick said grinning.  "Always a treat to see you jump
like that."

   Rick's brother in law, John, had calmly opened the newspaper, now
covered in dead flies, and began to discreetly browse the adult
classifieds. Carmella's brother was a quiet young man and was usually
mercilessly teased by the others, since he almost never fought back.  He
was a wuss and would always silently take whatever crap you dished out to
him.

   John had just come over a few minutes ago to bring over a home-cooked
dinner that Carmella's mother had insisted on sending over, despite Rick's
constant complaints that the food unsettled his stomach.  Rick knew it
would be another one of those trying days where Carmella would refuse to
cook anything and insist that her mother's dinner couldn't be wasted.  He
knew what she meant, in spite of her unspoken words.

   Hell, it wasn't his fault that he had been laid off work.  Besides, he
considered it a well-deserved vacation.  He needed the break.  His
employment insurance check came in every couple of weeks, on schedule, and
he still had another three months' worth.  He wasn't in any particular
hurry: he was having way too much fun surfing the net and sharing newly
acquired fantasies with his online friends.  He had never been part of an
online community before and was extremely gratified to start building a
network of online buddies who shared his views and opinions.
"Hey ya pussy," Bill called out to John.  "Get a real girlfriend.  Those
adult friend finder ads are all a bunch of BS." John ignored him and

continued to scan the personals.

   Hector and Bill, both bachelors, lived one floor down and were usually
Rick's drinking buddies, if the drinks were in Rick's fridge.  They had
nothing better to do today: Hector was leaving on vacation for the
Caribbean to have some fun in the sun and get some sand in the hand, as he
liked to say.  Bill, on the other hand, was just as unemployed as Rick. 
Both had come over to drink some of Rick's beer and get a buzz going before
heading downtown later in the night.  They had arrived together just a few
minutes before John.

   "Goddamn, I wish Carmella would hurry up and get the hell outta the
shower.  She's been in there for an hour already.  Hell!" cursed Rick,
muttering mostly to himself but Hector overheard him.

   "What's the problem bud?" Hector teased.  "She's your wife.  You wanna
use the john?  Go ahead and open the door and walk right in.  That's a
no-brainer.  That's what I'd do!"

   "You don't know Carmella," replied Rick with a trace of peevishness in
his voice now.  "She's a frickin prude.  She hates it if I walk in when
she's using the bathroom.  Says it's no business of mine to walk in when
she's takin' care of her own personal business."

   "Heck," Hector said in a lascivious tone, "Her business IS your
business!"

   Rick reddened at the insinuation as Hector finished by shrugging
nonchalantly and saying, "Just kidding man." He took a long swallow of his
fresh cold beer and went back to flipping through the TV channels.

   "Rick, catch!" Bill tossed his house keys towards him but he missed. 
The keys landed on the floor in front of his feet and, as Rick reached over
and picked them up, he looked questioningly at Bill, "Hunh?  What're these
for?"

   "Dude, you can use my bathroom downstairs," Bill paused then added "If
ya gotta go real bad.  Ya know, if ya can't hold yer water...  ," he
trailed off, sniggering.  In the suffocating heat and humidity of the day,
everybody found this to be somehow ingeniously humorous.  Both Hector and
Bill were laughing now and even John cracked a grin.  Seeing that whale of
a belly heaving with barely contained mirth, Hector leaned over and poked
it with the TV remote.  Bill, looking at Rick began to say, between wheezes
of laughter, "Rick...  if...  ya...  really...  gotta...  go." Hector
finished by saying, "Ya better go now!"

   Rick, who at first, had chuckled mildly along with the joke, although
somewhat sheepishly, now found himself becoming angry at Hector's last
comment.  This was his place he thought to himself and he was being laughed
at because he couldn't use his own bathroom when he had to.  Goddamn
Carmella's prudishness, he thought savagely.  To hell with it, if she
raises a stink, too fuckin' bad!  I'm gonna go in there right now, he
suddenly decided.  As he left the living room, he could hear Hector saying,
"Sonofagun.  Rick's mad.  It was only a joke.  Must be the heat gettin to
him."

   As Rick paused in front of the locked bathroom door, his resolution
faltered, as he reconsidered.  The last thing he needed now was for
Carmella to start a scene and give the others in the living room an excuse
for another round of laughter.  And all because she doesn't want me to see
her if she's sitting on the can!  Goddamn it!  He was more than slightly
miffed at his predicament, but, what the hell, he couldn't turn back now.
He hesitated again and thought, what the fuck, I won't make any noise. 
Hell, I won't even flush.  Might even be able to get in and out without her
seeing or hearing me.

   He put his hear to the door and listened.  The shower was still running
and he was sure she'd be inside the bathtub.  He quietly picked the lock
from the outside, gently turned the knob and pushed the door in a wee bit.
Torrents of steam swirled in the air with the sudden draft from the open
door, but otherwise the coast was clear.  He hurried in, closed the door
quietly, and went over to the toilet.  He ripped a large wad of toilet
paper off the roll and threw it in the toilet so that there'd be no
splashing noise when he pissed.  Then, with sweet relief washing over him,
his bladder contracted and expelled the liquid waste of his last three
beers into the toilet.  He glanced over at the shower door and saw the
outline of Carmella's back and, as always, he marveled at her figure.  Her
curves were still faintly noticeable through the misted shower doors and
could be well appreciated.  He found himself getting hard at the thoughts
of all the dirty stuff he'd read about on literotica that the other guys
claimed to have done with their wives and he wished that Carmella would at
least let him talk to her about some of the stuff he'd read.  Unfortunately
though, since he had lost his job, he'd been getting less and less of her.

   The stories made it sound universally easy: all women loved cocks and
cum and would do anything and try anything with anybody.  Bullshit, he
thought sourly, bullshit.  If most women were like his wife then he'd
certainly not be having very many erotic adventures.  All he could do was
read and fantasize.  Doesn't reality bite he thought morosely, FUCK!

   Finished in the bathroom, but with his cock now hard and erect, he
distractedly contemplated a quick hand job before leaving.  He was anxious
not to get discovered by Carmella and thought that discretion would be the
better part of valor here.  But his hands had a life of their own as he
started rubbing his cock and enjoyed the slimy feel of pre-cum leaking like
a river from his cock head.  A loud bang from the bathtub interrupted his
pleasure and, startled, his heart leapt into his throat.  When he turned to
the tub, he breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that Carmella had only
dropped the bottle of shampoo and was bending over to pick it up.  Her back
was still turned and through the misty glass, he could again see the
outline of her derriere and the cleft between her legs.  Better get the
hell out, he thought.  She catches me here with my dick in my hand and
whacking off, she'll murder me for sure.

   Reluctantly, he tore himself away, pulled up his shorts and tiptoed to
the door, which he had left open just a crack and was about to step into
the hallway when he suddenly stopped.  His heart began pounding and his
breath came in short ragged gasps, but he didn't hesitate.  He removed
Carmella's oversized, dark green, bath towel and left the smaller ivory
colored one on the towel rack.  He locked the doorknob from the inside then
stepped outside, quietly closing the door behind him.  He leaned over and
tossed Carmella's bath towel into the open hall closet.

   She'd have to come out wrapped in the small hand towel he had left her
and that he knew, from having pulled a prank like this on her before, would
barely cover her from her tits to her ass.  Besides the towel was too short
to reach all the way around and there would be a nice slit that would open
wide with every step she took; all the way from her pussy up to her tits.

   Any regrets he might have had were banished when he recalled how
Carmella had joked, in front of that lecherous old Uncle Andrew, about
Rick's rapidly fading hairline.  His resentment at Carmella's affections
for this old friend of the family flared into anger and hardened his
determination to go through with it.  Hell, he rationalized, no one would
get hurt, except maybe Carmella's pride, and that wasn't necessarily a bad
thing.  Heck, he felt, a little humility would do her good and once his
buddies enjoyed a nice eyeful of her, maybe she even wouldn't act so
supercilious to them anymore.  In fact, the more he considered it, the more
pleased he became.  Yep, he finally decided, almost feeling magnanimous by
then, he was doing everyone a favor.

   Maybe it was the combination of intoxicant, the heat of the day and the
perceived ignominy of needing to take a leak earlier that day that made him
plan and execute such a diabolical prank.  However, there was also a
fainter but more sinister voice from a very dim and distant recess of his
mind with altogether different plans.  I got her like a fly in a vise, it
reminisced cruelly, and then, somewhat maliciously, I'm gonna pull her
wings off.

   As he walked into the living room, his smile was not pleasant, but
rather cruel.  His cock stiffened at the thought of the fun he'd be having
with Carmella in a few moments.  He was whistling jauntily now, to the tune
"Angel in the Centerfold", as he reappeared in front of his buddies.

   "Hope you're not mad at us," began Hector who was gesturing with his
half -empty bottle of beer.

   "Aw forget it," replied Rick.  "I wasn't mad at you guys.  I'm cool." He
walked over to the wall unit with the stereo and turned it down.  Then,
turning to the others, he paused dramatically before announcing jubilantly,
"But listen up guys.  I want ya all to keep it dead quiet for the next
little while." He continued, with excitement making his voice falter a
little, "I gotta treat for everybody here." He glanced over at John and
said "Except maybe for you, kiddo, you might want to think of gettin'
goin'."

   "Why?" asked John looking in puzzlement at Rick.  What the hell was his
brother in law saying?  He hadn't even seen Carmella yet and he knew she
would never let Rick send him away without seeing him first.

   Rick looked at him with narrowed eyes, assessing him and then said, "Up
to you kid.  I don't care if you stay.  But then you better just sit
tight."

   "We gotta get goin' anyways," said Hector rising from where he sat.  He
looked over at Bill "Time for us boys to head downtown and maybe get some."
As Bill also raised his bulk and the two stood there, Rick went over to
them and whispered convincingly, "I gotta treat for ya fellas that you'll
never get again." Though his words were slurred, the air of mystery was
enticing and both Hector and Bill hesitated as Rick winked conspiratorially
at them.  He tilted his head towards the bathroom and listened intently for
a moment to the silence as the shower was suddenly turned off.  Show time,
he thought lewdly.

   "Sit down both of you...  Now!" he commanded urgently, his words
suddenly clear again.  "Shut off the TV and shut up.  Not a word!  Not a
sound!" he said fiercely.  Both Bill and Hector sank back into the couch,
bewildered and also befuddled in their mild alcoholic haze.  But they were
silent.  Rick appeared to be a lunatic and so, for the time being, they
just sat there looking at him cautiously.

   John was also keeping a wary eye on Rick.  Something was going to
happen, that was for sure and he had an unpleasant foreboding that it had
to do with Carmella.  What the hell, he thought.  Rick had always been on
the level and never acted strange like now.  He could see Rick over by the
far side of the living room, nervously pacing just a few feet away from the
bathroom.

   The toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened and Carmella called out
in a clear and sweetly feminine tone, "Rick, bring back my bath towel.  I
know you took it when you stepped in here." She seemed willing to go along
with Rick's joke for now.

   Her first words had tolled, clear as church bells on Sunday, across the
small apartment.  Their significance had not been lost on the denizens of
Rick's living room.  With eyes opening wide, and their intoxicated senses
clearing rapidly, they leaned slightly forward.  Their mouths were closed
tight and not a sound escaped from any of the three seated in various poses
of astonishment.  Their ears snatched Carmella's every spoken word out of
the pregnant air.  Their eyes strained to seize even the feeblest glimpse
of Carmella's apparition just beyond the edge of the wall.  They knew now
what Rick was up to and were glad they had stayed.

   "What towel?" Rick said carefully as he walked over to her.  He stood a
little way off, hoping she wouldn't know catch even the faintest whiff of
alcohol on him.  "What do you mean?"

   She became more impatient, her mood growing darker as she changed
subjects abruptly, "What're you doing home?" she demanded.  "You're
supposed to be at the employment center trying to find a job.  And you've
been drinking," she accused angrily.  Changing subjects again, she
continued her remonstrance, "Why didn't you flush the toilet?" And ended
with a sharp rebuke, "And why did you sneak in to the bathroom?  Couldn't
you have at least knocked?"

   Rick, ignoring all this, went over to Carmella, opening the door wide.
"You have a towel on," he stated matter of factly.  He didn't tell here
that his buddies had dropped by and changed his plans for the day. 
Unfortunately and unreasonably, she blamed Hector for Rick's unemployment:
they had both worked at the same company but different divisions and Hector
still had his job

   "You lazy bum," exclaimed Carmella angrily.  "You waste your time
playing these stupid pranks on me.  I don't know how long I can live with
your bullshit.  Go find a job." She stepped out into the clear daylight of
the hall and forced Rick to step aside.

   He grinned at her wickedly and replied under his breath, "You bet your
sweet ass."

   Carmella's voluptuous figure was derived from the classic beauty of her
Mediterranean ancestry: clean eyebrows, dark eyes, well-formed nose, smooth
jaw line and a clear complexion.  Long dark brown hair cascaded over her
shoulders.  Her dark sensual mouth with its full lips held the promise of
unearthly delights for those who beheld them.  She was all soft curves,
standing just a few inches shorter than Rick's five foot eight frame.  Her
breasts were very generous, and her large pink areolas crowned with ample
nipples: they were clearly meant for suckling.  Her belly was plump, but
not fat, and the shape of her waist left no doubt as to nature's endowment.
Carmella's perfect proportions exuded a womanhood meant only to breed and
to breed plentifully.  Her body was unblemished by veins, scars or drooping
fat.  Her legs were clean and hairless: she had also just finished shaving
her underarms and her sex.  Although her eyes now flashed angrily at Rick
as she moved past him into the living room, she still appeared radiant and
lovely from her bath, like Aphrodite emerging from the waves on the sea.
Hector leaned forward slightly and Bill's jaw dropped as they both
stared hard at the feminine loveliness that had suddenly appeared before
them.  Their eyes drank in her beauty and their breathing deepened as they
inhaled her fresh aroma.  Both men appeared intoxicated at the sight of
her. John, however, shrank back, sitting absolutely still as he tried

desperately to become invisible.

   "You miserable, perverted, piece of shit, bastard," she enunciated each
poisonous word through her clenched teeth as she spun around to face Rick.
"What are THEY doing here?  Get them out, NOW!" she demanded, incensed. 
Then, becoming more aware of her mostly nude figure, she intended to
hurriedly sidestep Rick, dash across the now hostile territory and retreat
into the safety of her bedroom just a few steps away.  The momentary delay
caused by her excoriating outburst gave Rick time to anticipate her and he
caught her elbow.  He was unprepared for the whirlwind of fury that
confronted him.

   "You stayed home because of these BUMS?!" she demanded scathingly her
hostile eyes looking from him to his friends with undisguised loathing and
contempt.  Rick had never seen Carmella like this before and might have
wisely decided to attempt reconciliation but for what happened next.

   Carmella, her eyes now blazing mercilessly advanced on Rick, forcing him
to retreat a few steps.  Her voice was clear and cruel as she said, "You
know what?  You're right.  I didn't tell you the real reason that Uncle
Andrew came over today.  I thought I should spare you.  But YOU?!" she said
with an unmistakable hint of derision crowning her reference to him. 
"Uncle Andrew said that Daddy's not paying any more rent for us until you
walk into his office and work for him!" she ended viciously.

   Rick couldn't believe her words but her tone had the unmistakable ring
of truth.  She had just humiliated him in front of everyone: she'd
emasculated him and served his balls up on a platter for his friends to
gawk at.  His swirling thoughts began to swiftly coalesce into black
thunderheads of absolute fury.  Hell, he had honestly considered going to
work for her old man but he didn't want to be carrying a hammer and brown
bagging it to work every day.  He had tried to put her off and told her
that maybe he'd consider it in his own time.  Who knows, he'd argued, maybe
he'd get a job without having to slave for her old man.  He just needed
more time.  But the old man had given him an ultimatum and Carmella had
spilled everything in the open.  Fucking bitch cunt!

   Staring at her with venomous eyes and reaching out to grab her arm, he
said, in a cold rage, "I'M YOUR DADDY!"

   She didn't say a word nor did she hesitate a moment as she raised her
hand and slapped Rick as hard as she could on the left side of his face. 
The dry hard shock of the smack reverberated around the room and Bill,
being the faintest of the bunch, put his own hand to his face, as if he too
had just been struck.  Hector, though, had kept his eyes glued to the front
of Carmella's towel and wasn't disappointed when the light cotton towel
shifted along with her movement.  His foresight was rewarded with a brief
but exceedingly pleasant glimpse of some breast including fresh pink areola
and a hint of nipple.

   The large pale blotch that had sprung up on Rick's face in the wake of
Carmella's striking hand slowly reddened, burning with heat but his eyes
were cold as he looked at her.  "I'M your daddy," he repeated in an icy
tone.  "And like you said, I pay the rent here!" he added, emphasizing the
I.  "And you know I always pay in CASH!," he leered coldly at her.  He was
just able to catch her wrist before a second blow would have landed on the
exact same spot.  Carmella, furious at being restrained, twisted her body
hard to her right and yanked at herself ferociously but Rick's grip held.
Unfortunately though for her, the knot on the towel slipped at that moment
and fell to the floor at her feet.

   "Aiieeii!" a short, sharp yelp of utter dismay ripped out of her being
and she flushed with terrible shame.  Her hands had closed on empty air,
grasping desperately but unable to catch hold of the towel, in a frantic
attempt to save herself from such humiliating exposure.  Mortified and
self-conscious, she tried her best to hide the fullness of her bosom with
her hands and arms but her efforts were woefully inadequate.  No one had
ever seen her like this before, except her husband, Rick.  Even then, she
had only allowed him to keep the light on at the beginning, for a few
minutes, before insisting he turn it off.  Intensely conscious of her
perilous plight, she turned and made to flee.

   "Whoooohoooooo!" Hector whistled, low and wolf-like as his gaze devoured
Carmella's beauty.  His left hand went involuntarily to his crotch,
massaging his hard on while his eyes roamed freely over Carmella's lovely
nakedness.  A soft and almost inaudible ahhhh was the best that poor Bill
Sherman could mumble as he too gazed longingly at her.

   Hearing herself subjected to such debasing antics from those she scorned
and despised turned her apoplectic with rage.  She could not tolerate that
these beasts could treat her like this in her own house in front of her
husband and brother.  The final remaining fiber of temperance and
forbearance in her being snapped and she turned to attack them.  However,
her insensible rage did not diminish the ardor with which her handful of
admirers present there longed for her.  In fact, she was even more exciting
now as much as she was more dangerous.

   "You dirty, filthy pigs," Carmella shrieked at them and twisted
painfully, still in Rick's grip, to face John.  "Johnny, help me!" she
screeched at him.  "Get my towel!" But John was a statue, and he, too, was
now simply staring at her.  Disbelief ran through her for a fleeting moment
as she thought, my brother?  In her slight confusion, she wasn't able to
resist Rick's sudden pull on her.

   The muted tones of Van Halen's "Running with the Devil" playing on the
stereo receiver in the wall unit had suddenly energized Rick.  He had
wrenched Carmella around with a hard jerk and pulled her against him.  He
wrapped his arms around her naked form and held her as she worked
desperately to free herself.  He had given her a quick and painfully hard
kiss on the lips before she was able to wrench her head away.  When he let
go of her lips, she recoiled from him and spat angrily in his face.  Then
she spat again on the floor at his feet, trying desperately to get rid of
the foul taste of garlic and beer that Rick had left in her mouth.  A long
thick white stream of saliva trailed down his cheek over the handprint she
had just left on his face moments before.  Rick put his left fingers to his
cheek and gathered up the dripping saliva.  He turned slightly towards
Hector and said, calmly, "Here, take this."

   As Hector held out his hand, Rick purposely wiped Carmella's spit onto
Hector's hand.  "Go ahead and taste her buddy," Rick urged with a lecherous
smirk.

   Hector's tongue emerged obscenely from his lips and slowly but
deliberately licked Carmella's saliva off his fingers while his devilish
eyes steadily returned Carmella's deer-in-the-headlights gaze.  "Hmm... 
Sweet as honey!" Hector approved huskily, his expression glowing with
mischief.

   Carmella was close to utter panic now.  This can't be real she thought
as her distressed mind tried to rationalize a way out of her predicament.
Not in my own house, her desperate reasoning repeated, trying vainly to
reassure her.  But the atmosphere of the room had changed completely now
and her home was no longer recognizable to her.  The air raged with pure,
unadulterated male hormones and the heavy charge of testosterone saturating
the room seemed to threaten an imminent strike of the most foul kind.  The
most ancient part of her mind with its survival impulse could sense the
looming danger she was in but was powerless to act.  It was her sex that
fueled the raw animal hunger surrounding her closely.

   Her eyes glanced rapidly around the room, looking quickly into each of
the eyes enclosing her, in a last desperate appeal to see if there was any
hope of succor, especially from her brother.  Alas, all eyes were glazed
over in lust, except Johnny, who remained motionless and stared at her
vacantly.

   Schizophrenic thoughts flashed through her mind as she struggled to
retain her sanity.  It was at this moment that she suddenly understood what
that horrible man had meant when he had said to that lady cop in the The
Silence of the Lambs, "I can smell your cunt." Her exposed womanhood was
nature's simplest and most potent aphrodisiac and nothing could save her
from the ravenous male hunger that now almost suffocated her in its
urgency. The dogs circling ever closer to Carmella had, at this moment,
reduced her humanity to just another bitch in heat.  Some things will never
change she thought with crazy bitterness.

   Since there was no possibility of fleeing Rick's iron hug, she chose to
fight.  Catching sight of Hector moving a little closer to her, just off to
Rick's right, and remembering his perverse demonstration as he had licked
her saliva, she suddenly hated Hector more than Rick.  Not caring for her
choice of words, she contemptuously spat out, "Dirty nigger!" She lashed
out with her right foot, aiming for Hector's balls but connecting with his
shin instead, yelling, "You stay away from me!  You filthy animal!" as
Hector went backwards.

   He stumbled, almost falling to one knee before recovering and the sudden
pain traveling up to his groin had momentarily dampened his raging hard on.
As he went down, he was suddenly confused when Rick also pushed him away.
When he had gotten back to his feet, slowly and painfully, Hector was
pleasantly surprised to see Rick struggling with Carmella on the floor.

   When Carmella had kicked Hector, she had lost her balance and Rick had
taken the opportunity to quickly wrestle her to the ground.  As he got on
top of her, with clear intentions, her demeanor made a sharp U-turn. 
"Rick, NO!" she was begging now.  "Please, Rick, not this!  Not here!  Not
like this!" she was pleading through the rainstorm of tears that had now
sprung up on her face.  She squirmed under him, trying desperately with all
her strength to unseat him and to keep her legs closed.

   But she could see no remnant of humanity in the hideously swollen red
face looming over her as he pulled down his shorts and savagely shoved her
legs apart with brute strength.  She bit him hard on his shoulder then,
sinking her teeth into his skin and tasting his blood, but even then, he
was not deterred.  He was deadened to any pleas, threats or efforts she
made to save herself.

   When he tried to shove his cock into Carmella, he found she was bone
dry. Goddammit, he fumed silently.  Guess she ain't so turned on, he
thought with dark humor.  He spat copiously into his hand, rubbed it on
both himself and Carmella and then plunged in.  With little time to react
and even lesser ability to defend herself, she had little choice but to
accommodate him.  He pinned her arms to the ground and body slammed her so
hard and repeatedly that her teeth began to hurt.  Blindly, she wailed at
him and tried to push him out, but there was nothing she could do.  Her
mind went numb as she endured Rick's punishing attack.  He had never hurt
her like this before and now, not only was he killing her, but he was also
doing this in front of his sick friends and her useless little shit of a
brother.

   Her wails had turned into pathetic whimpers as Rick finished by
exploding inside her.  He lay heavily on her as he regained his breath. 
His cock had taken a bit of a beating itself, despite his repeated attempts
to self-lubricate his rape, and now felt raw in some places.  Still, he
felt great as he rolled off Carmella.

   She continued sobbing pitifully as she turned onto her stomach in a vain
and desperate attempt to somehow maintain some isolated shred of her
violated dignity.  Blindly, she felt around on the floor with her hands for
the towel.  Her shattered mind kept repeating to her "My towel, my towel".
Dimly and through a haze of tears she saw that the towel lay crumpled on
the floor, just beyond Johnny's feet.  Her fingertips strained to reach it
and pull it towards her but she never got the towel.  Years later she still
refused to believe that Johnny could have done such a thing.  She even
convinced herself that the towel had never actually been there.  She was
certain that she had only imagined it in the delusional fever of her
torment.

   It was the reality of John's action that had broken the final taboo. 
His hasty action in denying his sister the sanctuary of that measly rag of
a towel was intently noted by the others.  It was in those few seconds,
while no one moved and everyone waited, that Hector deliberated quickly but
cautiously as he assessed the situation.  In his opinion, which he
consistently maintained a high regard for, if Johnny boy wasn't gonna help
his own sister...  and after what Rick just did...  With the right move,
this could become a free for all!  In hindsight, it was the ear-splitting
din of the Jake brake from a passing 18-wheeler that finally sealed
Carmella's fate.

   The deafening racket of the engine brake propelled Hector towards
Carmella, to take advantage of her as she lay on the carpet, face down, in
bruised and battered insensibility.  He was on top of her in an instant,
covering her entire soft, white nakedness with his hard, ebony frame.  As
he briskly removed his shorts, he didn't care to even spare a glance over
at Rick, his unwitting benefactor.

   "I ain't goin' for nobody's sloppy seconds," he said harshly in the
hushed quiet of the closed room.  "Gonna go where no cock's been before!"
he exulted.  Rick, in a drunken rant, had once told him that, in spite of
all his efforts, Carmella steadfastly refused to take it up her ass.  No
one dared to stop Hector as he made his vow to break Carmella's sweet brown
cherry.

   Although caught in a dense fog of shock and denial, she knew that it
wasn't Rick who was pinning her down now.  The hard fat male organ that
pressed urgently into her behind wasn't at all like Rick.  She tried to
yell but her voice was hoarse and broke into pleading sobs for mercy
alternating with hoarse, angry whimpers of vitriol.  She cried, "Dirty
nigger," repeatedly, as she finally recognized her assailant.  But Hector
only groaned with pleasure as his formerly starving cock had firmly nestled
itself in the delicious cleft of Carmella's creamy white buttocks. 
Although, she squirmed fiercely and bucked hard to try and unseat him, this
only pressed Hector's member more firmly into her body.

   Hector leaned over into Carmella's ear and mocker her, "Nigger bitch!"
as he brutally tried to ram open Carmella's backdoor with his cockhead. 
Her hapless sphincter held its own for the moment as she bucked and writhed
in raw anguish but powerless to unseat the delirious Hector who continued
to ride her as the dungeon master Hephaestus rode the ivory maiden
Aphrodite.

   Carmella's scrambled thoughts began to slowly comprehend that this was
not normal intercourse: she had never taken it in her rear.  She had never
let Rick anywhere near her backside but it was now being hammered in by
that filthy nigger pig.  She bit down hard and clenched her sphincter
desperately with all her might.  She could already feel her bowels starting
to come loose, but then blessedly, the unyielding pressure on her ass
ceased to be.

   It was a few seconds before the utter shock and pure disgust of it
dawned on her as she felt the soft wet morsel of flesh, gently but
purposefully, swirling around and darting in and then out of her asshole.
Carmella was revolted.  What a dirty animal!  Only a nigger would do that!
Nigger pig!  All these epithets ran through her befuddled head.  But, try
as she might, her initial loathing and revulsion started giving way as she
felt, at first, a slight tingling, and then a warm and pleasant feeling
where she had just endured a battering, as Hector kept licking at her
little brown hole.  Despite the humiliation she had endured, she could not
control the guttural response of her sex to Hector's ministrations.  In the
jumble of her confusion, her half-crazed thoughts even resented Rick for
not having given her this kind of pleasure before.  He had never done this
with her, and if she had known how pleasurable it would be, she might have
given him what he had desired long before this.  If only Rick had tried
what Hector was doing to her now, she thought as feelings of guilt, shame,
pleasure, loathing and disgust all vied in egregious competition to
dominate her.

   Hector, still seated firmly astride Carmella, had swiveled himself
around to face her feet and gripped the soft creamy cheeks of her ass with
both hands.  Impatient in his heated desire he forcibly spread them wide
apart, revealing the wrinkled brown star of her anus.  Fired by lust, he
buried his face in her bum and inhaled the soft peach fragrance of her
recent bath.  Slowly, methodically and determinedly, he licked at her brown
hole until it was wet and dripping with his saliva.  It took several
minutes, but his efforts were rewarded handsomely when the formidable
pressure formerly sealing Carmella's sphincter gradually began to ease,
eventually yielding completely as her ass opened up.  Hector's keen ears
could now distinguish a barely audible but distinct soft moan of pleasure
as a faint undertone to Carmella's continuing cacophony of tortuous groans
and moans.  He doubted that anyone else in the room had realized that the
bitch, in spite of herself, had enjoyed the tonguing he'd given her ass. 
Fucking whore, he thought to himself with carnal satisfaction.  For all her
uptight missy prissy behavior, she's just a fucking whore.  What the hell,
he thought, all women are whores.  In his conceit, he was supremely
confident that he could turn any woman into a whore.  He was doing it now.

   "Aiiiiieee...  unhhhh...  aiiiieee...  unhhhh," Carmella howled
incoherently through gritted teeth, as her bowels were suddenly torn apart.
It felt as if a red hot column of iron had just been forced into her rear
passageway and she tried frantically to dislodge the foreign object by
clamping down on her viscera but it was impossible and her efforts were
entirely futile.  Hector had her pinned to the floor and was ramming
himself vigorously in and out of her ass.  Both of his hands slipped under
her chest, mashed her breasts then crumpled her delectable nipples between
his fingertips.  She screamed insanely as yet another intense bolt of pain
sheared her breasts and radiated upwards through her shoulders and into her
back.  Finally, all she could do was wail forlornly in her misery as Hector
maliciously sodomized her.

   When Carmella's ass had sufficiently softened under the assault of
Hectors tongue, he had swiftly turned around and rammed his engorged cock,
dripping with slimy precum, into Carmella's rectum.  He hadn't given her a
chance to recover from the pleasure of his tonguing and had slipped into
her like a hot knife through butter.  He felt like a king with Carmella
bucking and howling under him.  Her frenetic efforts to bear down and
contract her anal musculature as she sought to expel him from inside her,
only added to his pleasure.  He passed one arm under Carmella and groped
for her pussy, cupping it whole in his palm.  He massaged her raw pudendum,
none too gently, as he marveled at the silky smooth softness of her
hairless mound, enjoying its feel.  The sensation was so pleasant, that he
decided, from now on, he'd prefer his women like this.  Her cunt was smooth
as silk and his fingers thrust easily into her, well lubricated with both
the remnants of Rick's discharge and the ass-licking he'd given her.  Under
the stimulation of Hector's scrupulous care, Carmella had been helpless to
prevent her body from flooding her vagina with its own natural secretions.
Through the thin membrane separating Carmella's front and rear passages he
could feel his pounding cock and this sensation was finally too much for
him to bear any longer.  Like waves of molten lava, Hector's male seed
spilled forth deep into Carmella's bowels while he brayed in pure animal
ecstasy.  At that moment, he was not so much human, as a black stallion,
riding his mare, and his cock continued twitching in Carmella's ass, long
after it had run dry.  He honestly could not recall when he had last had it
this good.  His hot, sweaty body collapsed on top of Carmella's prone
figure that had long since given up any meaningful struggle and now only
jerked spasmodically.

   Rick, drink in one hand and his cock in his other, had devoured Hector's
performance and felt nothing but hardening resentment against Carmella. 
She had never let him near her ass and now Hector had just savaged her
there.  Goddamn Carmella, he thought, the bitch did like nigger cock. 
Hector's right, she's a nigger whore.  Fuck her.  Hope her shit bleeds for
a month, he thought derisively.  Angrily he had turned up the stereo player
as the Motley Crue song "Girls, girls, girls" poured out of the speakers.
The music had allowed him to comfortably watch Hector go at Carmella
without being overly burdened by her lamentations.

   The preceding spectacle could be well and truly enjoyed only by those
fortunate enough to have been naturally bestowed with that certain steroid
chemical known as testosterone.  However, those poor wretches deprived of
this necessary ingredient for having a good time, would, no doubt, have
stared, transfixed by horror, at the sheer depravity of the scene: the
wails of a savaged woman mixed with the howls of her defiler along with the
heavy metal thunder pouring out of the speakers.  An obscene veil of sweat,
bodily secretions and alcohol hung heavy and palpable in the stinking air.

   Content with his abominable deed, Hector moved his hand from Carmella's
pussy and, grabbing her hair, he pulled her head up to his mouth and spoke
coarsely and contemptuously into her left ear, "Bitch!" He paused,
remembering, then added slyly, "Hey...  Gotta a nice little beauty mark on
the left inside of your asshole.  Betcha you never knew THAT!" With wicked
arrogance, he finished, "And I betcha even Rick doesn't know THAT!"

   After his cock softened and voluntarily withdrew from its brute invasion
of Carmella's bowels, he heaved a grand sigh of utter satisfaction and
moved off her.  He paused momentarily to spread her ass cheeks again and
marvel with delight at the huge gaping hole that was leaking cum down out
of her ass and into her pussy.  He smacked her ass roughly, leaving a
blotchy handprint and gleefully declared, "She's a nigger bitch now!  For
sure!"

   Bill had moved his bulk out of his reclining position and exclaimed in
annoyance, "Fuck!" He was dismayed at having remained behind, and said,
petulantly, "What hole do I get?  Fuckin' sloppy seconds!"

   "Tough luck, buddy.  Its first come, first served," said Hector in a
disparaging tone.  After all, he had done all the hard work.  Without him,
that lazy fat fuck could never have subdued Carmella and things might have
been very different indeed.

   Bill looked over to Rick who sat quiet and unmoving.  Shrugging his
shoulders, and taking a long swallow of beer from the long-neck, Rick
grunted back, "There's a beautiful, naked woman lying in front of you. 
What the fuck are you complaining about?"

   Carmella hadn't moved and still lay face down on the carpet, her chest
heaving spasmodically as anguished sobs rent her through.  Her anger at
Rick had faded away after Hector's savage assault on her, and she now only
hoped for Rick's loving hand to come and caress her and take her away from
this nightmare.  She felt something soft in her hair, and her heart,
although dulled by the recent cruelty, fluttered with faint hope.

   Bill had gone over to where Carmella, still breathtakingly lovely in
spite of her ordeal, lay prostrate and unmoving, still weeping piteously.
He passed his fingers softly through her still damp, long silky brown hair
and bringing it to his face, he breathed deeply again and again, inhaling
the clean scent of her shampoo.  He did this with such relish that he
almost became a little giddy.  He pulled back and, slowly, being hampered
by his girth, he clumsily settled his bulk on her back, kneeled over her
head, pulled down his shorts, wrapped his hard cock in the softness of her
long brown hair and masturbated.

   "Ahhhh...  ," came a guttural moan out of Bill's throat as his cock,
like a canon nestled solidly in the base of Carmella's skull, shot long
thick ropes of heavy semen, right where her hairline met the top of her
neck.  He cleaned his cock with her hair and then massaged his discharge
into her scalp.  As he struggled to rise, he was unable to control the
pressure of his considerable belly on his bladder, and some urine spilled
into Carmella's hair and on her back.  At the same time, and more
embarrassing for Bill, was the loud discharge of passing gas as he finally
stood erect.  He felt sated and completely purged of all biological
necessities, just as if he had stepped out of the toilet.  In fact he
hadn't felt this good in a long time.

   By now, Carmella was immune to just about any further insult or injury.
She had no strength to retreat and lay, crying and whimpering quietly while
the acrid stench of Bill's bodily discharges burned in her nostrils.  John
had finally risen to life and nervously moved over to comfort his weeping
sister.  He sat close to her and, gently, moved his face close to hers.  He
whispered urgently at her, "Sis!...  Sis!" Then after a few minutes had
passed with no response from Carmella, he said again in a helpless voice,
"Sis..." Then simply, "I love you Sis." As she slowly raised her head to
him but keeping her gaze lowered, he gently kissed her forehead and then
her eyes before he dared to kiss her lips.  At the touch of her brother's
lips, Carmella buried her face in his lap and began sobbing fresh tears,
not feeling the heat in Johnny's lips as he had kissed her.

   "Ohhhhh, Johnny!  Don't tell mom!  Don't tell her this!" Carmella wept
and pleaded through a veil of tears, her face still buried in Johnny's lap.
"Promise me!  Don't tell anyone!"

   "Shhhh, no one's going to know," John murmured soothingly as he slowly
caressed his sister's lovely face.  She was beautiful, he thought, and was
not at all ashamed by his thoughts.  Lust had already shrunk his reasoning
and swelled his member before Carmella perceived what was happening.

   The shock of the realization made her gasp harshly as she felt Johnny's
manhood compelling its way through the thin material of his shorts.  Nooo,
Carmella thought in awful dismay but Johnny, with gentle persistence
pressed his crotch into Carmella's face.  The initial silent wail of
protest that had risen in her subsided as she remembered what he had said
and then she could no longer resist.  Johnny had come to comfort her.  He
was the only one to say that he loved her, no one else had said this to her
while they had enjoyed her.  After such a harrowing ordeal, Carmella almost
didn't care anymore, even if she was his sister.  She began to suck at the
small wet area where the head of his penis was clearly noticeable through
the front of his shorts.

   Johnny quickly freed his member from its confines and Carmella willingly
took him in her mouth, her last inviolate hole.  He was overwhelmed by the
intensely pleasurable sensation flooding his groin as Carmella's mouth
possessed him.  His cock was caressed and pleasured with such exquisite
delicacy, much as if it were his own tongue savoring the sweet flesh of a
luscious, ripe plum picked at the height of summer.  His left hand moved,
almost of its own accord, and reached under her, grasping a full, firm
breast.  His fingers found her nipple and fondled it gently, arousing it to
life.  He rejoiced in his love for his sister and at that moment, there was
nothing better for him in all the world.  He held her head with sweet
tenderness in his lap as she buried his shaft in her throat.  His whole
body tensed as torrents of liquid pleasure overflowed from him into her
mouth.  She didn't disappoint him: she swallowed every drop.

   Carmella, with her body pulverized and her spirit broken, lay on the
carpet, like a dead autumn leaf that had been trampled over by so many
passing feet.  Johnny gently freed himself from Carmella's tremulous grasp
and reached over to where his sister's towel lay.  After gently wiping her
face and hair, he covered her naked form as best he could.  It was hard to
believe that only an hour or so had passed since Carmella, clad only in
that skimpy towel, had walked in, oblivious to the fateful turn of events
to come.

   Meanwhile, reclining comfortably on the couch, Rick had, with great
surprise, observed Carmella's performance with her brother.  With wry
chagrin, but also a philosophical resignation, he realized that Johnny's
conduct had trumped his own bad boy behavior earlier.  His sister!, he
mused in unashamed amazement.  He also realized, through his inebriated
haze of testosterone and alcohol that otherwise clouded his judgement, that
his marriage was, in all likelihood, finished.  What the hell, he pondered
laboriously, the marriage was on the rocks long before this anyhow. 
Besides, there was no better way out than with a bang, and then he smiled
sardonically at his own pun.  His marriage ending in a gangbang!  Life's
ironic, he almost chuckled aloud.

   A peculiar and rather bizarre change had, by now, insidiously overcome
Rick as his former natural assurance of all things that were wholesome and
good finally deserted him.  After having mulled it over in his head for too
long, he finally decided that Hector was right.  She IS a whore.  As he lay
staring at Carmella's nude form lying prone on the carpet, he became aware
of a gradual stirring in his loins as blood slowly but inexorably rushed
back into his unsatiated member.

   He stared long and hard at the empty bottle he held in his hand before
letting it drop, with a dull thud, to the carpeted floor.  As the bottle
rolled off the carpet and onto the floor, he looked over at Hector and
Bill. The day was still bright and hot but of little inconvenience as all
of their eyes met in unison.  Without a word being spoken aloud or a
gesture of hands or limbs being made, a scheme was contrived, discussed and
agreed upon.  Rick rose to his legs, stretched hungrily and then, slowly
massaging his engorged malehood, called out to his buddies, "Let's make her
airtight.  After we're through with her, she's gonna bleed cum from her
mouth, cunt and ass for the rest of the summer." Soon, like a plentiful
cornucopia of semen, their seed would gush forth from all of her delectable
holes and Rick went completely mad with lust at this final thought.  She
was their sow now and, like rutting wild pigs, they mounted her
simultaneously.

   After finishing the story, Carmella held the papers in her hand for a
long moment, losing sense of time as she reflected on what she had just
finished reading.  Then she leafed back through the unstapled sheaf of
papers to the very first page and reread the preface to Rick's story.

   We've been married for just over three years now and domestic life has
been relatively sedentary and uneventful.  Don't have any kids.  Don't have
any really pressing personal, financial or social issues other than the
wife being a bitch more often than not nowadays.  Now that I don't have an
office to report to every morning things have been pretty quiet and
peaceful.  Almost boring, if it weren't for the web and I find myself
spending more and more time just surfing aimlessly.

   I feel that a yearning to turn some fantasies into reality is
overrunning me, though I am afraid this may plunge me into an unfathomable
abyss.  I have written this story so that I may enjoy, albeit vicariously,
a consuming fantasy of mine.  In this story I will demolish the armament of
my wife's puritan upbringing and leave the fortress of her traditional
values ravaged and savaged.

   Only after reading these first two paragraphs again, did she finally
toss the papers, dismissing them, onto the small stand beside the bathtub.
She missed her mark and Rick's magnum opus skidded into disarray, landing
helter skelter on the bathroom floor, but Carmella didn't notice.  This was
really utterly outrageous she thought in vexation.  Now she knew where Rick
was spending his energies, and definitely not on finding a job.  Maybe he
could be a writer instead, she reflected momentarily before rejecting the
thought as ludicrous.  All he had written were some pages of revolting
pornography that probably anybody could write.  All you needed was a basic
vocabulary of those filthy four-letter words that even kids picked up
before they went to school.  Besides, she thought scornfully, again looking
over at the jumble of papers littered all over the tiled floor, for all the
trouble Rick had taken in writing page after page of trash, the best he
could manage for a title was "The Towel".  She pulled the drain plug and
watched as the bath water slowly drained away.  She was always fascinated
by the swirling whirlpool of water that rushed into the drain, heading pell
mell towards Lake Ontario.

   Carmella rose out of the tub, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.  As she
stepped onto the bathroom floor, she paused to glance at her reflection in
the steamy floor to ceiling mirror.  But her eyes were again drawn, and
with some foreboding now, to the chaotic debris of Rick's story, lying
menacingly on the floor.  Abruptly, her eyes fixed on the towel rack and
she stared in consternation at the small, skimpy hand towel hanging there.
Where was her bath towel?!  Before she realized it, she had turned her head
to look at the toilet and gave a sharp, involuntary gasp as she saw that it
was not flushed!  As she leaned against the wall to steady herself, her
shoulder accidentally brushed the exhaust fan switch and, in the sudden
silence that followed, she heard Hector's loud braying laugh.  Then came
the opening bars of that nasty Motley Crue song that Rick had been playing
too often over the last few days.  She could not halt the thundering guitar
cords of "Girls, Girls, Girls" as it came roaring through the closed
bathroom door and sheared through the fraying fibers of her being.  Faint
with apprehension, she cowered there against the wall, her arms trying to
shield her breasts as she remembered the awful last words from Rick's
story, about making her airtight.  What on earth did that mean?!  Did he
mean to kill her, suffocate her?!  For the first time in her life, Carmella
was afraid, very afraid.