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HelpWife.txt -- 1/7
WARNING:
This story is fiction and should be treated as such.
The following story contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you're not
an adult or reading descriptive sex stories upsets you, don't read any further.
I'm not the author. I don't have the talent.
I can only be the "TheEditor," grobert@soho.ios.com
A Helpful Wife
Chapter 1
"Tim! No, please don't!" Melanie Cartwright protested.
She struggled for a moment with his hand, pulling it with hesitant force
from beneath the top of her thin, low-cut dress. Tim Cartwright resisted
somewhat drunkenly, and then let his hand be pushed limply away.
"Melanie, for God's sake!" the young man thickly hissed. "We're married,
aren't we? Jesus, you act like we were still going steady."
"Oh, darling, it's not that," she moaned in a soft whisper against him.
"It's that we're in a public theater, that's all."
"What's that got to do with it?" he growled in a low voice.
"I mean... I mean, it's not even a drive-in! We can't... we can't make a
spectacle of ourselves in front of all the others here. We're not teenagers
any more, you know."
"Not by very much," he chuckled wetly against her ear. "I bet you just
don't want your new boss to see you necking, right?"
Melanie flushed slightly, feeling her rosy cheeks flare with heat in the
darkened movie theater. "No," she protested, "it's not that at all. Mr.
Anderson is a married man. He knows all about love." She dropped her head to
his shoulder and began to sigh gently, trying to show her husband she wasn't
such a prude as she sometimes sounded. "We'll have plenty of time for loving
later, when we get home!"
"Think you can stand seeing sexy films like this every night while I'm
gone?" her husband, Tim, whispered suggestively.
"You... you know I don't like them, Tim," she replied, stiffening.
"Besides, I'll be out in the lobby all the time I'm working. Now hush and
watch the movie. You're the one who wanted to see it so badly."
"Yeah," Tim breathed huskily, looking back to the screen with
liquor-dulled eyes. "And man, it sure is a hot one, isn't it?"
Melanie Cartwright didn't answer, again feeling a rapid sensation of
blood rushing to her face as she blushed with embarrassment. She'd never seen
one of these so-called "art" films before, but avoided them by telling Tim that
she was not interested in the more lewd and prurient side to love-making. But
the curvaceous blonde wife, only twenty years old and married just one month
over two years, had been continually urged by her handsome, twenty-two year-old
husband to at least try one before she dismissed the whole idea. And her girl
friends, those other young wives and mothers who lived in the apartment-house
complex with her and Tim, always seemed to be talking in hushed giggles about
the candid versions of wild erotica which their husbands were taking them to.
In spite of her deeply religious upbringing and her own ingrained sense of what
was decent and what was not, she couldn't help admitting that she had been
secretly curious about what such films were like, titillated by their come-on
newspaper ads.
Now, tonight, there had been no way of avoiding seeing one such movie,
even if she had desperately been against the idea. For one thing, she hadn't
been able to find the proper words to argue after all the drinking they'd done
during dinner. Tim had taken her to a fancy restaurant before coming here, and
they had lingered over their tasty food with different wines with every course,
not to mention the before and after cocktails. Tim had more to drink than
usual, and Melanie could see he was not very sober, but she, too, was feeling
the alcohol's effects to a marked degree.
For a second reason, he had insisted that he wanted to go here, and she
didn't have the heart to turn him down, as this would be Tim's last night with
her for the next four months. Her husband would be away from home and bed for
almost the coming third of a year, and of course Melanie had wanted to make
this the best possible going-away night she possibly could. The reason her
husband was leaving was one of those minor tragedies that can strike young
married men "on their way up" who must sacrifice personal pleasure momentarily
for a more secure and richer future. There had been many tears and even a few
arguments ever since Tim had told his wife of the necessary parting, but they
both knew that it would be best in the long run, a temporary parting that would
only make their marriage happier later.
Tim Cartwright had left his menial job as warehouseman at McHugh Plumbing
and Heating to join a new, progressive and energetic firm of plumbing
representatives, Flynn & Associates. It was a real chance to make something out
of himself, Tim had told Melanie; perhaps the only chance he'd have before he
was twenty-five and most of the trainee positions were being filled by younger
graduates. But as a new representative of many different plumbing
manufacturers, he had to go to New York City and start learning a thousand
different details at the parent office of Flynn & Associates, and travel all
over the country visiting the multitude of factories for further teaching.
If Melanie could have gone with Tim to New York, there would still have
been frequent times when they would have been apart. But a warehouseman doesn't
make much money, and there hadn't been the savings available to allow her even
that much. The sad fact was that there was hardly enough money to buy Tim the
new suits he needed and send him to the other side of the nation. Melanie
would have to stay in California, in the small suburb of Greenridge, and keep
their tiny apartment for when Tim returned to his new sales position in the
area. Partially out of a desire to keep her mind occupied and partially to
help meet financial ends, Melanie had taken a job.
The new job to which Tim had just referred was the second reason they
were at the movies tonight. Melanie had a high school education, having
married Tim almost the moment she'd graduated. She didn't have the skills or
the diploma necessary for many of the positions that were offered, and in a
residential district such as Greenridge, there weren't many openings for the
few things she could do, such as typing or filing.
Both Tim and she had felt very lucky that the Bijou Theater in the small
downtown shopping area had needed a girl to take tickets and operate the candy
and popcorn concession in the lobby. The owner, Amos Anderson, had wanted
somebody to replace his wife, Sybil, from the chores, and was most pleased that
someone as smart and beautiful as Melanie was available. Older women, he'd
said to her, were continually getting sick or baby-sitting their grandchildren,
and teenagers from school were eager, but often irresponsible. Melanie was, as
far as Amos Anderson was concerned, the perfect combination, and he'd been glad
to allow her the few extra daysand nightswith her husband until Tim left. But
tomorrow evening she would be going to work at the Bijou, and the theater was
the leading movie house for erotic, sex-oriented films...
After watching the picture, SINNING STUDENTS, for almost an hour and a
half tonight, Melanie was beginning to feel slight twinges of doubt about
whether she should have agreed to see it with Tim. Or, for that matter, that
she should have taken the job at the Bijou at all, considering the kind of
movies they were showing! She had told her husband the truth about working out
in the lobby, closed off from the images on the screen by the closed
swing-doorsbut still and all, just knowing this was the type of films the
customers were viewing would be a shameful thought continually torturing her
mind. The soft mewling sounds coming from the other women in the audience
around her, and the grating noise of heavy deep breathing from their male
escorts was telling enough of the effects such eroticism was having. She could
see through the dim light the vague shapes of other couples wrapped in tight
embraces around the darkened theater.
Her eyes glanced back to the screen just as the climactic moments of
SINNING STUDENTS were being unreeled in vivid color. It was the age-old story
of seduction behind the stone walls of an exclusive girl's school. There had
been the usual scenes of teasing foreplay with different young teenage girls,
all of them beautiful in their youthful, firm innocence, as they fought for all
they were worth against the perverse temptations that were continually being
forced upon them. Melanie had been watching a number of scenes where one after
the other of the girls were shown in various stages of undress, with their
budding, tautly uplifted little breasts often filling the screen in larger than
life detail, or fleeting glimpses of their hair-fringed pubic mounds and
lithely rounded buttocks as they nakedly displayed their nubile young bodies.
But now the wide-eyed wife was viewing the most lecherous of the
professors as he was thumbing through a book in his small room. At first
glance it appeared as though he were reading it very quickly, but as the angle
of the camera turned, she could see that he had photographs secreted between
its pages. His eyes gleamed lasciviously as he studied them, but the camera
did not show them to the avidly awaiting audience.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. He snapped the book shut,
looking up as the door opened and a young brunette schoolgirl hesitantly
entered. She couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen, Melanie thought
with disbelief; where on earth had the film producers ever been able to hire
such sweet, innocent virgins as her? The teenaged girl was dressed in the
school uniform and carried a set of books in her arms, and the dialogue was to
the effect that she wanted the teacher to help her with one of the lessons.
She didn't understand it, she said, and the professor, a wicked gleam in his
eyes, said he would be more than glad to explain it better. She sat down and
shyly opened her book to the page from which he'd been teaching that morning,
and the sound track went over the lesson, the professor inching around closer
and closer to the seemingly unsuspecting girl. Then the teacher straightened,
snapping his thumb, and said he'd forgotten something that would make the
lesson easier, and he excused himself and left the room.
The girl sat erect in the chair, looking around the small room nervously,
biting her lip as if she felt a certain danger just being there all alone. But
after a few moments, curiosity got the better of her fears, and she reached
across and took her tutor's book to check a figure in her own studies. The
camera showed the gasp of surprise and the shocked expression on her face as
she opened the book and saw the pictures hidden inside. Her first reaction was
to close the book and slide it back across the table, but then her innocent
wonder took over again, and she reopened the book, shuffling the photos with
increasing interest.
The pictures were on an angle to the camera and slightly out of focus to
give a tantalizing, erotic build-up, but enough was shown so that Melanie could
see that they were pornographic pictures of a man and a woman nakedly entwined
in lewd sexual intercourse. The camera switched back to the girl's face as a
slow change from amazement to wide-eyed excitement seemed to come over her
emotions. The stimulating effect the obscene pictures on her immature mind was
apparent, for Melanie could see her eyes slowly dilate and the unmistakable
smoky haze of passion begin to flicker through them. The violin music began to
grow as she breathed harder and panted in a rhythmic excitement, and she
writhed with increasing passion on the chair. The camera lowered to the floor
and viewed upwards under the table. The student girl pulled her skirt up
slightly and inserted her middle finger up under the tight leg band of her
flimsy nylon panties, gently stroking the barely hidden crevice of her moistly
parting vagina. A few curls of dark pubic hair and occasional glimpses of soft
pink flesh could be seen glistening wetly as her slim inner thighs quivered and
her firmly rounded little buttocks undulated. She slipped more of her finger
deeper into her virginal young pussy and rotated her hand faster and faster
with increasing arousal...
Melanie held her breath as she watched the school-girl fingering herself
on the screen. She had never in her life seen anything like this, and was
grateful for the protective covering of the darkness around her.
It all looked so real and true-to-life that she couldn't believe it was
only being acted, and again she found herself wondering where tender-aged girls
could be gotten to do such sordid things in front of a camera. Through a
lightheaded intoxicating haze of martinis and wine which she'd had during a
pre-movie dinner, she could feel her own body begin to tingle in sympathy with
the school girl on the screen. She remembered lying in her own bed when she'd
been no older than this girl, and touching her private parts with her own
fingers to relieve the building force of her flowering womanhood. That had
been years ago, but still she blushed slightly from the shame and guilt
flicking through her conscience, and she squirmed her own buttocks nervously,
feeling the soft edge of the seat brush electrically against the tender
swelling of her vagina. She twitched from the unexpected shock the contact
brought, her breath quickening involuntarily.
Tim eagerly pulled Melanie close to him again, letting his hand dangle
gently over her shoulder. His fingers lightly touched the tip of her breast,
and he felt her jump slightly from his fingertips, but he held her tighter,
pressing his hand gently against the softness of her throbbing breast. The
young husband was growing more aroused by the second, and lewdly exciting
images of the things he would do to his luscious wife's soft body ran through
his mind. Man, tonight would be the last night for at least three or four
months with herand after watching this hot sex film, he would turn Melanie
every way but up, and then maybe that way too. She had never liked different
variations because she thought them to be perversions, but after tonight she'd
know she had been fucked when he finished with her, whether she liked it or
not!
Up on the screen, a spasming look of horror came on the school girl's
face just as Tim Cartwright returned his attention to the movie in front of
him. The professor had come back into the room unexpectedly and caught her
finger fucking herself with the pictures spread out on the table. The man
grabbed the young girl roughly and cursed her, while she mewled and pleaded for
forgiveness, but he marched her over to his bed, obviously bent on punishing
her. He pulled her down over his knees and she kicked out wildly behind her.
Then he lifted her little skirt up over the trembling moons of her fear-quaking
buttocks and began spanking her through the flimsy white panties with the palm
of his hand. The slappings were harsh and authentic sounding as they came
through the speaker, and the girl screamed and kicked under his brutal
spanking, her sleekly naked thighs shivering piteously before each cruel blow.
While the teacher yelled at her to leave his private things alone, the
camera zoomed in on her flailing buttocks, where he was slowly beginning to
draw the white nylon panties down over the delicious firmness of her reddened
buttocks. When her panties were all the way off and thrown to the floor, the
professor pushed the girl from his lap. She knelt in front of him on the
floor, tears of pain and humiliation streaming from her eyes as she pleaded for
mercy and begged him not report her to the headmaster of the school. The
corrupting teacher's face shone with a cruel glint then, and he outlined what
she must do for him if she didn't want to be expelled that very moment...
"Take your clothes off, my little peach. Strip and then we'll do some of
the lovely things you were looking at."
"No! No!" the sweet angelic voice cried back.
"Yes!" the insidious professor demanded. "Be quick about it!"
Quaking with fear, the teenaged girl rose to her feet and began to slowly
remove the clothing from her budding young body. The professor did the same,
grinning satanically as his pants dropped to the rug. His big, hardened penis
was just out of the range of the camera, but the whole audience including
Melanie knew it was no more than an inch past the bottom of the screen. The
girl stood naked in front of the older man, her arms crossed futilely over her
well-developed, high-tipped breasts. The curly hair covering the mound at the
base of her tender white belly was soft and sparse, and the tiny folds of flesh
covering the narrow slit of her pink vagina were plainly visible.
The teacher gleefully made her sit down on the edge of the bed and spread
her legs wide apart so that he could kneel between them and see up between her
parted thighs. He reached forward and placed one thumb on either side of the
rounded hair-fringed lips of her pubic mound to splay their tender flesh slowly
apart. The camera zoomed in to expose all of the moist pink valley of her
tight young pussy, and her gently throbbing clitoris could be seen just above
the puckered opening of her little cuntal hole...
Melanie gasped in increasing surprise, unable to believe her eyes and
ears. A tightening sensation was gripping the pit of her stomach, and she
blinked her eyes that were hazy from the dinner drinks, trying to bring them
into proper focus and assure herself she was actually seeing correctly. The
horribly filthy movie was against every moral lesson she had ever been taught,
and she knew it was terribly wrong to even be watching it! Yet instead of the
absolute revulsion she would have sworn she'd have felt, she was experiencing a
strange, light-fingering tingling deep up between her own thighs, and tiny
licking flames of unwanted arousal burned through her raw nerve ends. Dear
God, it was lunacy to be sitting here at all, but she was perversely enjoying
it as well!
Her husband had pulled her so close against him now that she could hardly
move and during the excitement of watching the young girl strip, he had
inserted his hand down into the bodice of her dress again. She could feel
small pinpricks of delicious sensations racing through the tips of her naked
breast as he rolled the hardening nipple teasingly between his thumb and
forefinger. The heat of his breath seared her ear as he turned his head toward
her again and locked his lips wetly against her. She tried to twist away, but
the pressure of his hand and mouth were too great for her to fight.
"Come on, Melanie," he whispered into her mouth. "Don't start acting
prudish again. Nobody can see us, and nobody would care if they did."
She remained rigid for another moment, and then allowed herself to go
limp, knowing the futility of resisting his savage strength. The thought
crossed her mind that this was the first time he had kissed her in a theater
since they'd been married, and she had almost forgotten the forbidden thrill of
what it was like. In spite of her guard being up against letting any emotional
display happen in public, she could feel tiny butterfly-like sensations flit
increasingly through her stomach.
The now familiar voice of the professor came through the speaker,
piercing her mind even though she had her eyes closed and her head turned away
from the screen. "You want me to play with you, my little dove?" Melanie heard
the voice lewdly ask.
"Oh, yes... Oh, please, yes! I want you to, Sir!"
Melanie sucked in her breath, her face flushing. She could hear the
sounds of heavy breathing and movement on the bed and then: "How?" her teacher
rasped excitedly.
"With your tongue, Sir! I want you to suck me like the man is doing in
the pictures you have."
"By damn, I will! Get up on the bed and spread your legs!"
The older man's voice came through with a guttural passion she had never
heard in her own love making with Tim. Her face turned a still brighter
crimson as her husband continued to kiss her with hotly pressing lips and
mouth, and she heard another long delay in the voices and a more intense
movement of the bed. And then the voices returned:
"Ahhhhhhh," a high ecstatic sigh came. "Suck me, Sir! Suck me harder
and deeper; stick your tongue all the way up my pussy!"
Tim Cartwright felt renewed passion surging through his loins as he heard
the girl moaning in the throes of abandoned sex on the screen. He could feel
his massively erect penis jerking in the tightness of his pants and, as he
paused in kissing his wife, he was able to see a small portion of Melanie's
soft upper thigh as she squirmed in her seat next to him. God, how he'd like
to grab his wife right that instant and throw his prick to her while they
listened and watched this wild sex movie! But he knew her well enough to know
that any advance like that would freeze her up until she was colder than an
igloo outhouse. He'd have to somehow control himself until they got home: but
then, by God, he'd fuck her silly!
Tim withdrew his lips from her's and looked back at the screen. "Hot
damn, look at that!" he gasped heavily into his young wife's ear, his hand
tightening harder on her softly warm breast.
Melanie turned her head slightly and caught the view of the movie just as
the young girl wrapped her hands in the older man's thick black head of hair
and pulled his face forward with all her strength into the moist pink opening
of her loins. Her teacher's tongue was snaking out and swiping across the
throbbing flesh of her tender vagina, bringing groans of lewd delight from her
tightly clenching lips. He teased the tiny bud of her clitoris for a moment
with his lips and then began to run his mouth up and down the full length of
the widely spread vaginal slit. Her hips responded with slow hard grinding up
against his face, and she writhed and twisted like a belly dancer under the
hotly probing tongue. The girl was being turned into a raw quivering mass of
desire before the eyes of the movie audience, contorted expressions of sensual
joy clear to all upon her passion-twisted face...
At the same time, the camera was able to view the professor's hardened
penis as it stuck out from between his naked thighs while he knelt before the
abandonedly writhing girl. A ripple of sensation coursed through Melanie in
spite of herself as she pondered its giant size. It was much bigger than
Tim's, and she clasped her own legs tighter together as she involuntarily
wondered what it would be like to have something that big sliding up between
her thighs. She glanced guiltily away from it, only to see once again his
thick tongue curling wetly up into the swollen pink lips of the teenaged girl's
eagerly spread vagina. Melanie gasped at the obscene sight, having heard about
men doing this to women but never having thought the sight of such a depraved
act could excite her against her will. And yet it was, and she could feel a
building moisture up between her tightly pressed thighs as the emotions
reflecting on the girl's face in the film transmitted themselves to her own
body.
Thoughts of her own nights of love-making fluttered unconsciously into
her mind as she watched the lewdly sucking mouth on the screen. She could
recall how early in their marriage Tim had trailed his wet lips from her bare
breasts and down her naked skin in a similar attempt to go lower and plant
moist kisses on the soft flesh and satin hair surrounding her defenseless
vagina. She could vividly remember how she had screamed for him to stop and
then sobbed that he was acting "evilly" as she had pulled him back up over her.
He had always taken her the normal, "right" way after that, but without the
fire he had shown before, and she had always wondered why at the time.
Was this the reason? Was it really the kind of animal things she was
viewing in the movie now that it took to please a man? Tim had ceased his
attempt to force her into such unnatural and debasing acts, but he had become
increasingly casual and indifferent in his love making. If he'd been drinking
as he'd been tonight, he could be almost cruel and brutal with her, and
occasionally he had actually hurt her! She did have to admit that she was
prudish in certain respects, and that not once in the two years of her marriage
with Tim had she enjoyed sex like the girl in the movie was obviously
experiencing. Had she been kidding herself what it should be like when two
people make love? The thought raced through her mind against her willwhat
should it be like? What would it be like? No... no... such abnormal acts were
wicked and that was all there was to it...
"See her?" Tim said softly, nuzzling against her cheek. "If you'd let
me, I could do the same to you..."
"No!" his young wife protested, squirming away from his still teasing
fingers on her naked breast. "No, you know that's not love, just raw sex!
It... It's just not right to do!"
She could feel the moisture begin again between her tightly pressed
thighs and she involuntarily ground her buttocks harder against the seat to
quiet the unwanted, lewd stirrings she felt.
"But look at the girl's face," Tim continued wetly into her ear. "She's
letting the old professor screw her, now that she's hot enough to go up in
smoke. She's enjoying it! She's enjoying everything the man's been doing to
her. Christ, honey, she's not holding herself back."
"Don't talk like that!" she hissed angrily as the word screw excited her
strangely against her will. "I'm not frigid. You don't have to resort to
those horrible things to make a self-respecting woman like me happy."
But even as she argued with her husband, her eyes locked on the view of
the once innocent young girl on the bed with her thighs spread wantonly apart
and the older teacher hunched down between them, his enormous penis sunk all
the way up between her uplifted legs. The camera angle showed clearly his
thick glistening hardness disappearing into the soft, hair-lined folds of her
widely stretched vagina. His cock was in almost to its hilt, only a tiny inch
of it remaining in sight, wet and throbbing. The professor's buttocks were
flexing and hollowing rapidly as he drove himself hard into the nakedly
writhing young schoolgirl beneath him. Her slim white legs were wrapped
tightly around his muscular body, her trim ankles locked in a lewd death-grip
over his perspiring back. His fleshy prick was spearing into her virginal
pussy like a steel rod, bringing groans of indescribable joy bubbling from her
moist full lips. The girl's face was contorted in the most depraved picture of
pure raw lust Melanie had ever seen.
God, how she must feel, the aroused young wife heard herself think. And
I've never felt that way, I know it!
Melanie had never seen two people making love before and it looked so
strange to her. She wondered if this was the way she and Tim looked, and the
thought caused her to squirm slightly and press her thighs together to hold
down the erotic fire mounting against her will deep in her loins.
Tim had dropped his hand to massage still more of her aching left breast
into further hardness beneath the covering of her dress. She shuddered from
his maddening touch, feeling her breath coming in short, labored gasps now.
His lips were whispering moist entreaties into her ear, using words she had
told him repeatedly were wrong and obscene, but which were now strangely
exciting to her. In rising passion, Melanie pressed her thighs together as
tight as she could to extinguish the sinful lusts growing mercilessly up
between her legs. She wasn't a streetwalker, a common slut without pride or
decency in what she did, and Tim had no right treating her like she was one
especially on this last night that they'd be together! She knew she had to
leave the Bijou this very instant or she would find herself in a situation with
an unsober husband she could not control! How embarrassing, how utterly
humiliating that would be, to have something happen in front of her new
employer!
"Tim!" she whispered on the verge of hysteria, pulling his hand from
inside her dress. "We must go! We must go right now!"
"For Christ's sake," he snarled bitterly, "What's the matter now?"
"I can't take any more of this... this awful movie!"
"You've got to be kidding!"
"I don't care I don't care, please take me home. Please don't make a
scene, Tim, not on our last night together," she quavered, tears suddenly
filling her eyes."
"And if I don't go?" he sneered drunkenly, anger smoldering in his
glaring eyes.
"I'll... I'll go home by myself!"
"Gawd Almighty," Tim swore thickly, but he jerked his wife angrily to her
feet, reaching behind him to grab his own coat. "Then let's get the hell out of
here and home, so I can have my little going away present." He snickered
obscenely as he thought about it. "Yeah... that'll be better than watching a
movie."
"Ohhhh, Tim!"
He shoved her through to the aisle, his rage still growing inside him.
"Don't 'Oh Tim' me, you wet blanket. I'm telling you now, Melanie, that you'd
better be good to me tonight. Damned good, you hear?"
Melanie gave him a cold stare in answer and walked stiffly up to the
lobby, Tim trailing behind her. Out in the lobby, the sudden glare of bright
lights made her pause for a moment, and then Tim caught her roughly by the arm.
"C'mon," he growled. "I'm hotter than a firecracker."
"Stop being so crude, Tim," she snapped waspishly at him. "I ought to
say goodnight to the Andersons. It's only polite."
"Well, make it snappy, unless you want to be raped here in the lobby."
Melanie was shocked and dismayed by the way her husband was acting,
afraid that it was because of the liquor and the stimulation of the movie. The
very way Tim was behaving was reason enough for the young wife to believe such
films are wrong and should be censored, if not banned entirely. Rigidly, she
crossed towards the refreshment stand which was against the back wall between
the two sets of aisle doors, self-pity and anger boiling through her. Oh God,
no telling what Tim would be like in bed considering the mood he was in now!
If only...
"Hello, Mrs. Cartwright," a warm, throaty voice said, "Are you leaving?"
It was Amos Anderson who was speaking to her.
She blushed, stammering in reply: "Why... why yes, we are. Tim has to get
up early in the morning to catch his plane, and..."
Anderson chuckled appreciatively. "I understand. You two want to be
alone, with more important things to do than just seeing my old movie."
"Oh no, Mr. Anderson, we enjoyed it very much!"
"I'm glad you did," Anderson smiled, stroking one end of his small,
clipped mustache. "But please, call me Amos. After all, we're working
together now... Melanie."
"All... All right, Mr... I mean, Amos." She dimpled prettily at the big
man who was her new boss. She guessed him to be about six-two, and around two
hundred pounds. His thick brown hair, lovingly rippled into waves, was long
over his ears and at the base of his neck. He had a wide, handsome face, with
a short nose above a heavy-lipped mouth, a firm chin cut by a deep cleft and
thick eyebrows over small, pale brown eyes. To Melanie, the slightly older man
was awesomely masculine, so... well, she hadn't been able to put her finger on
it, other than he had seemed to her from the first moment they'd met to be
overwhelmingly magnetic. In that respect, he reminded her of Tim in a more
mature way, of her husband's forceful and pervasive huskiness, and an odd sort
of tingling of animal attraction had hit her in the pit of the stomach when
she'd been interviewed for the job ten days ago. Even now, standing as they
were in the lobby of his theater in a very respectable manner, she found
herself studying him with a detached interest, not as a potential sex
mateheaven forbid the ideabut just as a very attractive and stimulating male.
Amos' wife, Sybil Anderson, came from behind the candy stand where she'd
been counting change and joined Melanie and her husband. She had a throaty,
purring voice that the young wife had always associated with torch singers,
like Peggy Lee, and she thought the woman to be very attractive in that same
sensual way.
"So good of you to come on my last night," Sybil cooed in a light-hearted
manner. "I can't say I'll miss the job, not after all the years I've spent
standing behind there!"
"Well, I'm hoping I can do half the job you've done, Mrs. Anderson,"
Melanie answered diplomatically. "I'll certainly try."
"And you will, I'm sure you will," Sybil laughed encouragingly. She had
a rather narrow face, a straight nose with a little flare at the nostrils, a
generous red mouth, long black lashes, and neatly plucked eyebrows. Her hair
was sleek and black and glossy, gathering fully around her shoulders and down
over her ripely rounded breasts. She was wearing a pale blue dress with a
white starched collar peeking over the severe neckline. But she could have
been wearing a steel diving suit, and it still wouldn't have held back the
innate sexuality that exuded like perfume from this provocative woman. Sybil
was, Melanie thought, the perfect mate for such a virile man as Amos Anderson.
"Melanie!" Tim called out gruffly. "C'mon."
"Oh, I better be going," she said nervously, catching the impatient look
in her husband's eyes. "Goodnight, Amos? and..."
"Sybil. Do call me Sybil."
"And Sybil. I'll be here at seven tomorrow night!"
"Be looking forward to it, my dear," Amos said genially and shook her
hand.
Melanie hurried back to her husband, biting her lower lip with
apprehension and embarrassment. She appreciated the way Amos Anderson had not
acted as if anything was amiss, though it must have been clear as crystal that
there was; and he had been a gentleman the whole time, rather than acting like
a complete idiot as Tim was doing. A deep sense of shame still pervaded her
entire being at the way Tim had been touching her so intimately only a few
short minutes before, and the way he was fidgeting around now as though he were
some stud bull unable to behave like a civilized man. She had no desire to say
another word to him, and she just hoped that they would get out of here and
home before something worse occurred. At least at home whatever happened would
be privately between just them...
Behind them, and out of range of their hearing, Amos and Sybil Anderson
stood in the deserted lobby, admiring the young couple as they left the
theater. Amos turned to his curvaceous wife, a sly little grin forming on his
lips. "I," he said lewdly, "am going to fuck that sweet girl."
"Amos, you're out of your mind," Sybil chided. "I don't think you can
con her into our bed short of raping her. She's too young and naive, and only
been married for a couple of years."
"Sure, but did you catch that idiot she has for a husband?" Amos chuckled
suavely, patting his wife fondly on one firm buttock. "Melanie's the kind who,
when they fall, fall hard. It'll be fun trying anyway, even if we don't
succeed."
"We?" Sybil asked with a glimmer in her bright eyes.
"Damned right. You, my love, are going to help me not only get that
girl, but mow her all the way down until she's ready to be made a star."
"Ahhh, a new actress for our pictures!"
"We've many lovely creatures for our shows, but the ones past twenty are
all so common looking." Amos Anderson sighed appreciatively.
"But that little bitch... ahh, she could make us a fortune!"
"And you've got a plan... for us!"
"Uh-huh, but I'm not going to tell you until we get home. Show's about
due to end, and anyway, it'll do you good to wait for the details."
"Why, you horrid tease! I think you're making this all up!"
Amos laughed heartily, noting the anticipatory smirk on his lovely wife's
face. "Nope, I've got a plan, all right. And my dear... when have you ever
known me to fail?"
"Never," she had to admit, smiling. "Not even once..."
HelpWife.txt -- 2/7
A Helpful Wife
Chapter 2
Tim Cartwright drove with the car window rolled all the way down, the
cool night breeze ineffectual against the swirling heat of his inebriation.
The drinks he'd had only a couple of hours ago were headier than ever in his
bloodstream, and were making his already maddened emotions a hazy blur. He
glanced savagely at his lovely blonde wife who was sitting far over against the
door, and the sight of her demure, righteous expression enraged him all the
more. She hadn't talked to him since she'd demanded to leave the movie, and
that was just fine by him!
Some hot piece of ass he'd married! Out of bed Melanie demanded all the
little things involved with a story-book romance, with her teasing and
suggestive remarks and her provocative come-hither looks. But she was all sham
as far as he'd been able to determine in two years of bedding her; all
sugar-coated icing on a flat, stale cake.
Goddamn Melanie! He loved her very much, and he'd be deliriously happy
if only she was a woman, a red-blooded female who wanted him physically. His
cock and balls were aching for the loving caress of a sensual wife, but all
he'd been able to expect from her was the responsiveness of a pound of calf's
liver. He often pictured the ideal situation with Melanie mewling and moaning
with pleasure as he made love to her in a hundred different ways, and she in
turn writhing and sucking and kissing him with unquenchable lust just like that
little teen-age bitch had been doing in the sex movie. He could almost feel
the creamy secretions of her nakedly hungry cunt as she whispered his name in
pleading supplication, and he groaned as he drove, gripping the wheel tightly,
knowing all too well that her pussy was as dry and arid of moist desire as the
Sahara Desert in summer.
Goddamn it! This was the last night before he went away to New York City
for God only knew how long. He had to have her! He had to and no question
about it! He was going to fuck the shit out of his young wife tonight whether
she liked it or not, come hell or high water!
Tim drove more recklessly than was usual after he'd been drinking, his
lewd and obscene desires firing his liquored brain until he was unable to think
of anything except Melanie stretched out naked on their large double bed.
Christ I'm drunker than I thought! he told himself, but he didn't care... he
didn't care about anything except fucking!
They entered the quiet residential street on which their apartment house
was built, the car tires screaming as he suddenly braked in the parking lot
beside the red brick building. Still without a word between them, Melanie and
Tim, both tight-lipped, took the elevator to their sixth-floor apartment.
Melanie stood to one side and tapped her foot with irritation as Tim fumbled
with the key to the locked door.
Inside the sparsely furnished living room, Tim drew his wife to him with
an abruptness which surprised her. Her wetly parted lips were smothered as he
pressed his mouth hotly to her. She felt herself go rigid as the warm
quivering eagerness of his tongue bid for entry into her mouth, and then she
gently pushed free of him.
"I... I'll make some coffee," she offered in a gasping voice.
"I don't want any damned coffee," he snarled down at her. I want a
drink."
"But"
"A drink, damn it! Can't I have a drink in my own fucking house?"
Melanie cringed from his yelling voice, turning around so that he
couldn't see the tears forming in her eyes again. The evening was ruined.
Their last few moments together, and it was ending in bitter and hateful
quarreling. She took off her coat slowly, and then almost fearfully, she said
timidly, "Are... Are you coming to bed, Tim?"
"Damned right I am, baby," he grinned with drunken lewdness at her.
"Soon as I pour myself a drink. You go get yourself all ready for lover-boy.
Because he's rarin' to go tonight!"
He watched her slump off in the direction of their bedroom, and then with
a disdainful grunt, he stalked to the cabinet where the bourbon was kept. He
didn't bother to find a glass, but unscrewed the cap and tilted the glass neck
directly to his mouth. The hot liquor burned all the way down to her stomach,
making Tim feel slightly nauseous for a moment. He staggered to an easy chair
and sagged down in it, lifting the bottle up to take a yet greater swallow. A
few seconds later he was rewarded by a lightheadedness that swirled heatedly
through his blood, and he raised the bourbon still again to take more of the
soul-inflaming alcohol.
His long, hardened penis was bent mercilessly in his pants, and he could
tell that he was oozing seminal fluid from its passion-throbbing blunt tip,
soaking into a wet stain in his white underpants. Never had he felt so hot and
intensely aroused, the combination of the drinking and the lust-arousing SINFUL
STUDENTS film boiling in his mind with ever-intensifying desire. The pain in
his doubled-up cock was now excruciating to him, and with the desperation of
the drunken man he was, Tim reached down and fumbled for the fly of his
trousers. The zipper protested, because the sitting position he was in made
for awkward maneuvering even for a sober person, but slowly he was able to
lower it until his white underpants bulged through the narrow opening.
Tim Cartwright looked down at the protruding bulge. There it is he said
drunkenly to himself. There was his hard cock with which he'd fucked his share
of girls in school. He was a damned good looking guy, and he didn't mind
telling himself so, for enough eager and willing girls had while they'd been
rolling in the sack with him. He had a tall, broad-shouldered shape to his
lean, muscular body, with a tanned face and a smile that they all said could
have been used in a toothpaste commercial. He ran his hands through his rich
black hair and stared morosely down at the aching bulge that was enlarging from
the open zipper of his pants, and Tim thought to himself that a fat lot his
good looks and big cock was doing him now.
Trembling with pent-up frustration, he touched the swelling flesh and
felt a tremor race through his loins and buttocks. The narrow band of thin
white underwear seemed to widen of its own volition as he ran his fingers along
its frontal band, the sensations he was causing himself almost too overwhelming
to be withstood. His fingers caressed the stiffened cock, its outline hard
against his underwear, and then he pulled the material aside. Like a steel
spring unwinding, the fleshy shaft and blood-swollen head of his hotly aroused
penis shot free and out into the open air.
Tim stared with fascination down at his own erect cock, seeing the
lust-bloated hardness quiver with anticipation. He'd never seen it bigger!
His fingers caressed his large, rigid shaft, and the cool air of the living
room made it tingle all the more maddeningly.
For Christ's sake, this is stupid! he chastised himself. I haven't done
this since I was a Boy Scout! But he continued almost without conscious
effort, the foreskin folding back as his hand stroked the long burning length
of his cock. Sperm churned in his hotly tormented scrotum, and he could feel
the rising of his impending cum building in the base of his penis. He sat in
his living room chair like that for a long moment, staring down at his
rock-hard cock as the full fist of his hand wrapped around its shaft and pumped
up and down with furious speed, his breath becoming ragged and hoarse.
It was only then that the drunken young husband realized that he was too
far gone to fight the primeval urges his body was thrusting upon him, and with
a violent surge of salacious lust, Tim Cartwright leaped to his feet. He
started his desire-wracked body toward the door to his bedroom, his hand once
more enclosing over the turgid hard length of his erectly pointing cock.
Yes... Toward the bedroom and his wife Melanie... Ready or not, here he
came...!
Melanie had gone into the bedroom feeling an overwhelming sense of
sadness and despair. She began to fold back the sheets of the double bed,
wondering what had gone wrong with the evening and what she might have done to
avoid this awful situation. Had she been unfair to make Tim leave the theater
when she had? Was she being too demanding of him to treat her with respect?
No... if anybody was too demanding, it was Tim. Physically demanding, she
thought, and she shuddered at the knowledge of what would probably happen to
her in just a few minutes. It seemed to her at times like now that the only
reason Tim married her was for her body, and that all he ever had on his mind
was sex. He wanted to make love to her almost every night, and then like an
animal at times.
Melanie shuddered involuntarily again. The thought of Tim's huge, brutal
hardness tearing into her defenselessly tight vagina made her tremble with
fright. Didn't he know how to be gentle and patient with a woman? She had
been a virgin when she'd married him, and he certainly had been aware of that
better than anyone else. She had dated many boys before she'd met Tim, and had
engaged in the usual back-seat petting with a few who had appealed to her more
than others. She had even on occasion let a couple of them brush their hands
over her full ripe breasts, but despite their pleadings she had never let it go
any farther. It had aroused her somewhat, she admitted to herself, but she had
always overcome this by strict concentration on the moral values her mother had
drilled into her.
Her mother was extremely religious and had made Melanie attend church
with her every Sunday without fail, when most of her other friends had been
running off to play. Her mother had also given her persistent warnings on the
evils of "s-e-x" and the innate beastiality of men. Melanie had told Tim
frankly about her strict upbringing because she wanted to be a giving and
loving mate for him. All she had ever asked in return was for him to be
patient with her and understand why she didn't believe in pre-marital
intercourse or all the lewdly wicked positions in which some uninhibited
persons indulged. Tim had promised he understood and would cherish her
wishes...
But he had not, taking advantage of her love and trust in him even before
they were married to press his baser instincts. She had never gone "all the
way" with him during their courtship, but several times it had been very close,
being all she could do to control the both of them in their moments of passion.
Often, in compromise, she had let him reach under her sweater and
unfasten her brassiere, and caress her nakedly exposed breasts while they were
petting in the back seat of his car. One time they had parked inside the
garage of her parent's house where it was very dark and private, and he had
massaged her painfully full breasts into a maddening hardness until she had
allowed him to slip off her blouse and brassiere. He had suddenly taken one of
her nipples into his wetly eager mouth, and the gentle playing of his tongue
around the chip-like bud had nearly driven her insane with new sensations. She
had hardly noticed when his hand had slipped under her short skirt and had
begun to caress her creamy white upper thighs.
"No, Tim, no!" she had gasped, sensing that she might not be able to hold
him back this time. But he had kept on stroking her, insinuating his
outstretched middle finger under the legband of her thin nylon panties and into
the moistly heated slit of her virginal vagina. It had started a tingling
sensation that she had never known before, and she squirmed around on the car
seat beneath his hands, her heavy breathing fogging up the window beside her.
"Tim, not now, darling, wait for our wedding night..."
He had paid no attention to her and she had heard the metallic sound of
his zipper opening. She had tried to pull away with a suddenly gripping panic,
but his finger between her thighs had been probing up into her wet vagina,
sending electric thrills of rippling pleasure up through her that froze her to
the seat. She had not been able to move for the moment as the delightful
sensations raced around inside her body, and he had taken this to mean she had
surrendered her will to his abuse. He had stretched the elastic legband of her
panties farther aside, and suddenly tried to roll over on top of her to insert
his fleshy male hardness. At the last possible moment she had clamped her legs
tightly together and trapped his fully exposed penis painfully between them.
Tim had struggled like a maniac to pry her thighs apart and get the tip
of his rock-hard penis up into the wetly throbbing opening of her vagina. But
she had been possessed with the fearful certainty that she must wait for a
wedding ring, and had struggled with all her strength against his attempting
rape. Just as he had forced the head of his straining cock under the legband
of her panties and the throbbing blunt tip was poised between the unwantedly
spread lips of her cunt, she had felt it begin to jerk out of control. Tim had
gasped and she had felt hot, thick liquid spurt out from the end of his penis
and drench her matted pubic hair with his warm white sperm. It had covered the
insides of her thighs wetly and had dripped down between her legs to moisten
the car seat beneath her squirming buttocks.
Tim had emitted a final groan and had collapsed over her body as she
began crying with uncontrollable hysteria. He had tried to comfort her but she
had refused him to even touch her, feeling soiled and dirty and humiliated
beyond belief. But later, she had calmed down enough to realize that Tim was
only a man and controlled by the fevered desires her mother had always warned
her about. She had scolded him and made him promise never to do that to her
again, reminding him that it was just as much his responsibility as her's not
to let himself get carried away before they were married. He had apologized
and had never made any serious attempt on her virginity after that.
It had been a wonderful wedding night, and she had felt a complete woman
to have been able to give up her virginity to him. Nothing else in the world
had ever felt so good as his hotly throbbing penis stretching her tiny hymen
and then slipping wetly all the way up inside her belly. The thrills he had
given her that night had raced too wildly through her for her to think of her
original fears, and she had relaxed her tense inner muscles to give him greater
access to her womb. With each delightful stroke he made, she had been able to
feel her bridegroom's penis jerking into greater hardness until at last the
white hot semen that had once spilt all over her outer skin surged in seemingly
unending streams to inundate her inner cuntal walls and fill her belly to its
fullest.
Yet strangely, she had not felt that mysterious peak of excitement that
she had heard women could enjoy as well as men. "Climaxes," she'd heard
whispered from the lips of her girl friends; "orgasms," she had read in the few
forbidden sex manuals she'd glimpsed through. Or maybe she had experienced a
cumming like her new husband had, only she hadn't known it... Confused and
bewildered, Melanie had always been too ashamed and reticent to ever ask about
what she might be missing. Still, it had felt good for her, and she had always
tried to be agreeable when Tim had wanted her. And then had come his lurid
demands for perversions, and his increasing estrangement as though he was
tiring of her...
God, how times have changed, Melanie thought bitterly as she smoothed out
the bottom sheet and stood up. Tim's actions during that dirty movie tonight
were the worst yet. In spite of what everybody else says, maybe her mother had
been right all along...
She undressed quickly then, folding her dress and underclothes in a neat
pile on top of the clothes hamper. As she waited for Tim to finish drinking
and come to bed, she looked at herself critically in the full-length mirror
attached to the wall beside the bureau. Melanie Cartwright was a slim woman,
about five feet six inches, and her body was beautifully and symmetrically
proportioned to her size. Her blonde hair hung long, and when she let it fall
down across her shoulders, it partially covered her voluptuously full breasts.
She did that now, thinking that she looked very sensual that way, and almost
brazen. She swept the hair back up again, studying the creamy white skin of
her breasts and the pink aureoles that made large, perfect accents for her
small, bud-like nipples. She raised her arms over her head, stretching her
globular breasts taut, and she looked like some classic nude sculpture from the
Golden Age of Grecian art.
She stood that way for a long moment, letting her eyes roam down across
the flat plane of her stomach and the cute indentation of her navel. The curly
blonde hair of her sparse pubic triangle was silky and golden, highlighting the
pink fullness of her vaginal lips. And she could see the tiny tip of her
clitoris peeping shyly out from the softly rounded flesh of her cuntal valley.
She pirouetted lightly, examining the dimpled curve of her satiny buttocks and
the rippling smooth muscles of her calves. She had long, curvaceous legs which
tapered from the firm swell of her thighs down to her neat little ankles and
small, dainty feet.
I've got a good body, Melanie thought, I really do! But it hasn't
brought me full physical happiness in two years of marriage...
Suddenly the bedroom door burst open, hitting the wall behind it with a
resounding crash. Tim stood in the doorway, breathing in every inch of her
lovely nakedness. He had seen her naked before, of course, but never like
this! Every sensual detail of her unadorned flesh was lucidly clear to him in
spite of his drunkenness, from her tiny rising nipples down to the soft curls
of her pubic hair that nestled invitingly below her soft white belly. His eyes
blazed with the uncontrolled lust which was burning through his loins, and his
immense, fully exposed penis pointing and jerking ahead of him as he moved
deliberately across to where his young wife stood in dreadful apprehension. He
held his massively rigid cock pointing at her with his hand still beating
frantically up and down its lust-hardened shaft.
Melanie felt fear clutch at her throat until she thought she could not
breathe. Dear God! This was worse than the time before they were married,
when he'd nearly raped her in the car with all his clothes on, only his zipper
down to expose his genitals! At least then, he hadn't been flaunting his...
his member at her like he was now, and playing with himself so wickedly!
"I've got to have you," he breathed raggedly at her. "Right now, right
here!" Melanie cowered back, whimpering with fright. He stepped closer and
then grabbed his naked wife with his free hand, sweeping her to him despite her
protests. She was hauled ruthlessly against the hardness of his
lust-burgeoning cock, and she could feel the pounding heat of his rigid penis
against her trembling flesh as she stared abjectly up into his desire-contorted
face. His eyes were more obscenely glittering than she had ever seen them
before, and his mouth was tightly drawn back over his teeth like a wild animal
ready to pounce on some unsuspecting prey.
"Tim! My God, Tim, please! You're drunk!"
"Damn straight, I'm drunk, woman!" he snarled down at her thickly.
"Drunk from wanting to fuck you!"
Tim's hands explored her warmly naked body with rough callousness,
clutching and squeezing her soft, sensitive flesh as his penis throbbed
excitedly against her cringing belly. Melanie struggled feebly for one panicky
moment, but she couldn't fight his overpowering strength, and she thought
desperately that perhaps if she gave in a little it would help return him to
sanity. She thrust her moistly parted lips against his mouth and flicked her
wet, pink tongue between Tim's teeth. He sucked it hungrily, his own returning
kisses burning her like a firebrand.
"Easy, darling, please be gentle with me..." she murmured entreatingly
into his ear, but the drunken young husband was beyond hearing her pleas.
There was no verbal response from him, just a deep-throated growl of desire
rumbling from his throat as he pulled her cruelly toward the open bed. She
felt herself fall upon the mattress and roll to one side, and then she dimly
felt him crawl up on the bed beside her, hovering momentarily with an evil grin
of pure lasciviousness spreading across his alcohol and passion-lined features.
"Now, damnit, I'm going to fuck you!"
"No! Don't! Don't use that word!"
"Fuck, baby! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Tim unbuckled his pants and slipped them down to his knees. Then he
sprawled drunkenly on the covers as he tugged at all his clothes, and within
seconds he was as naked as she was.
"Please, Tim! Please be gentle with me!" Melanie's voice moaned as he
leaned over her nakedly defenseless body. He held her down against the
mattress with one hand and ran the other greedily over the lush contours of her
young flesh, kneading her ripely succulent breasts with hands he seemingly was
unable to control. His head dipped down to the tender budding nipples, and he
chewed hungrily at their pink tips until he could feel her resistance slowly
giving way and the sweet taste of her skin filling his mouth.
"No, darling, noooooo!" Melanie mewled hopelessly, but her pleas fell on
deaf ears. Her long blonde hair thrashed from side to side on the coverlet,
her face contorted with torment and fear, as she cried out over and over until
the sounds became nothing but incoherent mumbles of slurring words.
Ignoring all of his wife's moaning cries, Tim rolled on top of her and
caught her naked young body as her long slim legs scissored out in one last
desperate attempt to escape his brutal assault. Drunkenly, he held her wildly
straining body tighter to the bed, imprisoning her, as the weight of his heavy
chest tensed down upon her like a giant boulder. His hips fell heavily down
between her full widely-splayed thighs and pinned her jerking buttocks tightly
down against the bed. The soft fleece of her curly pubic hair brushed
teasingly against his throbbing male hardness, inciting him to incoherent
ravings of drunken lust. His knees spread her legs farther apart as he ground
his lean muscular pelvis into her squirming, defenseless loins.
"I'm going to fuck you silly, baby," he hissed viciously down at her.
"Yeah, I'm going to fuck you just as if you actually wanted it!"
"Ohhhhhhh," Melanie groaned haplessly, knowing she was to be brutally
raped... Raped by her own unloving husband!
Tim Cartwright drove his hand down between the fear-trembling hollows of
her soft inner thighs in his mad search to find the elastic snugness of her
cringing little vaginal hole. He felt the blunt rubbery head of his cock slip
moistly between the sensitive pink lips of her cunt until, using his fingers to
guide it, he led it directly up against the tight pulsing hole of her pussy. He
jammed his blood-rigid shaft forward with a groan, shoving it all the way up
inside her soft white belly with one savage lunge of his driving hips.
Melanie felt his heatedly pulsating penis forcing its way along the
tender walls of her vagina, pushing her resisting flesh before its skewering
hardness like a sword slicing through meat. She winced tearfully from the
excruciating pain, knowing full well from previous times that there would be no
escape for her, no let-up of the torture until he had emptied his burgeoning
testicles inside her and mercilessly filled her womb with his lewd cum.
Tim rammed forward again, hearing maliciously his testicles slap up
against her twitching up-tilted buttocks. She ground her hips against the bed
in a futile effort to relieve some of the brutal pressure, kicking out her legs
vainly in the air on either side of his cruelly impaling body. "Timmmmm!" she
screamed wildly. "Oh God, you're hurting me! Agggghhhhhhhh! You're hurting
me so much, Timmm!"
The alcohol-crazed husband grinned obscenely as he heard her guttural
wail of pain that had come bursting helplessly from deep in her chest. He
pumped his rock-hard penis deeper and faster into her warmly yielding flesh,
his thick shaft of meaty cock sinking with each demonical stroke all the way
into her fear-quivering pussy, the warm wet walls of her cunt wrapping tightly
around it.
"That's right, baby!" Tim taunted down at her. "Scream for it!" He
flexed again, and asked: "You love it like this, don't you?"
"Uhhhhggggg!" she yelled piteously. "My God! You're killing me! You're
killing me!"
"That's not the right answer, Melanie!" Tim snarled, thrusting even more
savagely down inside her quivering belly. "You like it, Don't you?"
"Ohhhhh, yes! Yes!" the tortured young wife cried out, tears running
freely down her red-flushed cheeks. She was afraid now of offending him and
making him crueler and more brutal to her than he was already, and she
frantically lied: "Yes! I like it! I like it! Ohhhhhhh!"
Tim laughed more harshly in response to her babbling words, stroking more
quickly in and out and pounding her tender, stretched vagina harder and faster.
He moved his clawing fingers back to grip her supplely fleshed buttocks and
pull her tightly grinding cunt closer to his driving loins, his vicious thrusts
filling the bedroom with lewd, smacking sounds that blended with Melanie's
continuous moans of torment and pain. His own breath became shorter and
heavier, blowing out from his tight-lipped mouth in little gasping puffs, and
his naked flesh gleamed wetly with beads of salty sweat. He felt himself lose
the last remaining vestiges of self-control, and he howled out wildly: "I...
I'm cumming, baby! Fuck back! Ohhh, fuck back!"
But even as he blurted out his climax, the first powerful streams of his
hot white semen began to erupt from the suddenly expanding head of his
throbbing cock, searing deep up inside the fleshy well of his wife's tightly
pulsating cunt. His cum spewed forth with the rolling force of a tidal wave,
burning Melanie's inner belly with liquid fire, drowning every fractional inch
of her raw, sore little pussy until the hot semen spewed out around her
painfully swollen vaginal lips. Melanie could feel the trickling sensation of
his warm, wet sperm flowing down between her hair-fringed cuntal crevice and
puddle on the clean white sheets beneath her wildly trembling buttocks.
And then her husband collapsed, his once-hard cock deflating rapidly with
his momentary satiation. Tim fell exhausted across his nakedly cringing wife,
one arm splayed wide across the bed and his legs like rubber limbs nestled
between her involuntarily open thighs. Melanie stared up at the spent muscular
body of the man above her, and in the wake of his spent-out passions, shame and
revulsion filled her mind, tears falling like rain from her red-rimmed eyes.
"Why?" she moaned softly to him. "Why, Tim... Why do you treat me like
this?"
"You'd never understand," he breathed huskily against one pulsing breast.
"You'll never understand about a man's feelings. I'm no robot that can take
being married to a beautiful woman like you and having to beg for a decent
piece of ass."
"Don't... Don't talk like that to me!" Melanie hissed. "You wouldn't say
or do such things if you loved me!"
"I love you plenty, baby," Tim responded, feeling anger once again
building in his stomach.
"Only I married a statue, not a woman!"
"You... You're nothing but an animal! A sex maniac!"
"An animal?" He raised up over her, his face contorting with indignation.
"A sex maniac?" He felt his limp penis begin to rejuvenate with new-found life,
hardening out into as strong an erection as ever. He heard his fearful wife
stifle a cry as she felt him push his rehardened cock along her semen-matted
pubic hair and down into the moist slit of her lubricated cunt. "A sex maniac,
am I!" he growled thickly. "Well, I'll show you just what a sex maniacan
animal sex maniaccan do to a frigid old prune like you!"
Tim never even gave her a chance to adjust to his sudden re-entry deep up
into her womb, beginning to fuck immediately in and out of her like a dog gone
wild. His only thought was to flood more hot cum deep up inside her where it
belonged, and he vented his raging, drunken lust time after time, spewing her
belly again and again with the thick, white liquid of his sexual
frustrations...
* * *
Meanwhile, in a sprawling ranch house high up on the wooded hills outside
of Greenridge, Sybil Anderson switched off the light in her maple furnished
living room and walked into the lavishly decorated bedroom, where her husband,
Amos, was waiting for her.
She slipped off her shoes and did a small pirouette in the center of the
room before she padded bare foot to the huge king-sized bed. There, she smiled
seductively at Amos while she slowly undid the buttons along the front of her
light blue dress.
Amos' breath sucked in slightly from the excitement of her provocative
strip. Damn, he thought, there's just no woman like her!
Undulating her lithe, firm body, she slid the dress down along her
slender shape until it lay on the carpet at her graceful feet. Her eyes were
heavily ridded and smoky as she watched her husband's face while she
tantalizingly reached behind her and unhooked her brassiere. She pulled the
thin cloth cups away from her firm, full breasts, making sure that the already
aroused berry-sized nipples were the last to meet Amos' hungry eyes. She
dropped the brassiere on top of the dress and then slipped her fingers inside
the waist-band of her bikini panties and slowly began to work them down over
her long, tapering legs until she was standing before him entirely naked.
"You like me, lover?" she purred throatily at him.
"Christ! You're a damned whore when you get near a bed!" Amos gasped
appreciatively. "But hell, I wouldn't want it any other way, my dear."
His eyes roamed hotly down over her well-tanned body, savoring the full
swell of her rounded breasts and the fleecy, dark curls of her pubic hair which
framed the moist, pink folds of her vagina. She was something else, all right,
and in the six years they'd been married, he had never had such an insatiable
woman who could please him more. None had ever surpassed Sybil in any way, and
that was quite a compliment for Amos Anderson to give, considering the number
of women he'd had in those six years with her.
Sybil reveled in his openly lustful gaze for a long moment and then lay
down on the satin spread of the huge bed. She scissored her legs invitingly
wide in a wanton pose, exposing to his eyes all the moist pink crevice of her
hair-fringed cunt. She rotated her hips up and then lowering them in a
measured, sexually intoxicating manner. "Aren't you going to get naked for me,
lover?" she cooed lewdly.
"You better believe it!" Amos breathed huskily. He quickly shed himself
of his trousers and shirt, letting his clothes fall where they would in a
disorganized heap on the thick carpet. He stood at the edge of the bed and
looked down at her voluptuous nakedness, his long, thick penis standing out
rigidly beneath the taut muscles of his well-developed abdomen.
"Open wide, my dear... I'm coming in fast!" he grinned, and leaped on the
bed beside her.
"Not so fast!" Sybil giggled mockingly, rolling out of the way. "You
were going to fire me up with the plan you've got for little Melanie
Cartwright, remember?"
"Ah, my dear, but you're torturing me," Amos pleaded good-naturedly. He
knew this was a game with her and one that they often played. He knew she was
more than ready, right now, but that she liked to be coaxed a little before the
action began. "I'll tell you afterwards. I promise."
"No, sir," she said, squirming her legs together. "No talkie, no
fuckie." And then in a seductive coyness, she reached over and placed one hand
around the pulsating thickness of his upstanding cock. "You tell me all about
it. I'll just sort of... amuse myself while you are."
"Well," Amos said, grinding his teeth together as shivers raced up and
down his spine, "we'll use the old One-Two-Three play on her. I think that'll
work the best."
"One-Two-Three?" his naked wife asked as she moved closer to him across
the bed. Her fingernails scratched lightly over his long hard cock which was
reaching yearningly toward the ceiling, and Amos groaned and gritted his teeth
at her teasing ministrations of his testicles and penis. She raised up on her
knees and hovered on all fours with her face poised just above his squirming
loins until he could feel the hot air from her breath, and then she dipped
lower, planting a kiss on the blunt tip of his penis.
"Go on, lover," she sighed softly. "What's One-Two-Three?"
Again, all that Amos could do was groan and thrust his loins upwards
involuntarily as the warm moistness of her soft lips closed over the throbbing,
sensitive head of his penis.
"One... ohhhhh, One will be just me. I'll... oh God, Sybil! I'll...
I'll get her up here all alone and seduce her for the first time, and then...
Ohhhhhh!" He lifted his head slightly to watch her contorting face, and then
reached down to tangle his hands tightly in her hair to guide the rhythm of her
bobbing head.
Watching and helping her made the wild sensations that much more exciting
to him, and he lustfully gazed at the thickness of his saliva-gleaming hardness
slide up and down between her wetly ovalled lips.
"GO-wan, go-wan," she mumbled around his plunging cock, increasing the
swirling of her tongue around the lust-swollen head of his thick, rigid cock.
"Go on... what's Two?"
"Two... Two is when you... Ohhhh, and then I..." Amos shivered, unable to
think coherently as his wife became caught up with her delicious task and
concentrated on taking all of his heatedly throbbing hardness deep inside her
hungry wet mouth. "Oh, to hell with it," he finally managed to gasp. "Just
suck me off. I'll tell you... tell you later, my dear!"
He watched hypnotically as the soft flesh of her lips clung to the
rubbery skin of his hardened shaft on every outstroke she made with her mouth,
and then enclosed inward as she sunk the full length of him all the way to the
back of her throat. Her ripely dangling breasts danced below her pumping
torso, their hard red nipples brushing tantalizingly across the sensitive flesh
of his belly, adding to the lust-inciting scene.
"Suck, my dear... suck!" he hissed, dropping his head back heavily on the
mattress and pretending for a moment the woman who was sucking his cock so well
was the innocent blonde girl he had hired for the theater. By God, he'd shove
his prick all the way down to her stomach when he finally got into Melanie.
He'd pump his hot cum all the way down her throat and into that white little
belly of her's until she burst!
"Ohhhhhhh, suck! Suck, Sybil, suck!" he grunted to his wife as she
slaved below, her body beginning to gleam from the tiny droplets of
perspiration forming over her skin. He felt the pressure growing in his
testicles, and knew it wouldn't be long now before he would cum inside her
warm, wet mouth. He shoved his loins hard up against her face in his quest for
the final climax that was building... building deep inside his painfully aching
cock. He gasped and his lips bared back over his teeth as though he were being
tortured by fire, and then...
His big, hard penis began a sudden wild jerking that flooded his wife's
wildly sucking mouth without warning in a torrent of thick white sperm. Her
cheeks bloated outwards with each bullet-like spurt as she tried to keep from
choking by swallowing as fast as she could, mewling and crooning all the while
around his thrusting loins.
With one last savage groan, Amos Anderson emptied the last of his semen
into her lips, but his wife went on nibbling voraciously, sucking every tiny
droplet from the head of his ejaculating gland. Gradually, his satiated penis
deflated in her mouth, and Amos threw his arms out to the side in exhaustion, a
great sigh of delight escaping from his lips. Sybil lay for awhile with her
head on his inner thigh, still nibbling gently at the now limp and useless
penis in front of her. Then she crawled up over his naked belly, kissed him
hard on the lips, and dug her tongue into his mouth.
A moment later, she took her mouth away. "What about number Two, lover?"
she teased softly, smiling down at him with a slight sparkle of triumph in her
eyes. "What about me and you and number Two?"
Amos chuckled contentedly and stretched out with satisfaction before he
answered his wife. "Simple, my love. I know you've had your eye on that tight
little Melanie for as long as I have. Well, what better way of breaking her
into our kind of movies than to show what all sorts of loving can be
likeincluding your own special brand! No reason why we can't both enjoy her
hot young body, is there."
"So part Two is when the two of us have her at the same time."
"Exactly, and with my little snap-shot camera along for fun-time photos.
That should take the stuffing out of her for good!"
Sybil smiled erotically down at her husband, pleased at the obscene idea
he was proposing. She preferred the hot, hairy bodies of men and their large,
pleasure-giving cocks, but every now and then she had a lusting for the satiny
feel of another woman's soft curves under her arms and lips. And lovely blonde
Melanie Cartwright's tender young body had been as arousing to her as it had
been to her husband. Yes, it sounded delectable, and she knew how Amos loved
to watch her making lesbian love with another woman just before he joined in to
become the third partner of a depraved seance a trois...
"And number Three, lover," she asked in a passionate voice unmistakably
excited by his obscene plot. "Quick, what is it?"
"Well, One will be with one me and Two will be with two, right? But
Three... ahh, that might be with more than just three! We'll get as many of
the boys together as we can, and then let things happen as they happen, andthe
best part will be"
"Yes?" Sybil asked breathlessly.
"The best part will be that we'll let our color movie cameras roll the
whole time. We'll do it in the studio out back, and presto! We'll have our
next full-length feature!"
"My, you are clever," his naked wife teased. "We'll blackmail her into
cooperating with the photos of us with her. When are you going to start in on
precious Melanie?"
Amos thought for a moment, then replied: "I'll have to judge that as it
happens. It depends on how soon I can get her to trust me. Then a little of
that marijuana on a balmy, romantic night up here..."
"Wonderful!" Sybil chimed in gleefully. "As long as I can watch!"
The lascivious sex film producer began to laugh with lewd delight, and
before she knew it, Sybil was joining in with him. If her husband's cruel
seduction worked, and Sybil was sure it would, she would soon be face-deep in
the lovely blonde softness of that young wife's velvet pubic hair. Sybil could
feel her mounting desire just at the expectancy, her already moistening vagina
flowering still more, and her high, round breasts hardening tautly with tingles
of anticipatory passion. She reached her hand down and felt her lascivious
husband beginning to stir with renewed desire, his large, thick cock hardening
again with rising excitement. She grinned, feeling the wetness seeping between
her own throbbing thighs, and knew that it was going to be a long, delicious
night with Amos...
Followed by many even longer, more delicious nights with innocent,
unsuspecting Melanie Cartwright. After all, Sybil silently smiled to herself,
doesn't every woman want to become a movie star?
HelpWife.txt -- 3/7
A Helpful Wife
Chapter 3
One month to the day after Tim Cartwright had flown to New York City, his
wife stood in the ladies room of the Dew Drop Inn, primping her hair before a
large oval mirror over the wash basins. She was a little inebriated, although
far from being drunk, and a crystal stem-glass filled with a Brandy Alexander
stood beside her elbow on the ceramic ledge of one sink.
Lord! she muttered under her breath as she reached for the glass, she
had eaten nothing since a quick lunch, and here it was after midnight! The
soothing warmth of the Alexanderher third since she'd arrived at the Dew Drop
Innwas causing a slight tingling sensation to ripple through her blood. She
raised the glass to her lips and finished the drink in one long sip. It tasted
good; almost too good, she warned herself, and then she giggled at the idea of
being in danger. What danger could she be in here, surrounded by all the
richest people of Greenridge and a guest of Mr. and Mrs. Anderson? None, of
course. The Dew Drop Inn was where only the most prominent and civilized of
the local residents ate and drank and danced. Certainly nothing wrong could
happen to her, she was certain of that. Why, she was as safe as if she was in
her own home!
Home... the one word made her smile bitterly at her reflection. Home and
Tim were where the last real danger had been. The thought of her long-gone
husband made her remember vividly the last night they'd been together, and
despite her promise not to dwell on the awful event, the liquor eased her
defenses enough so that once more she reflected upon his savage attack. How
could Tim have been so cruel to her, she thought. Why had he been such a raging
animal.
She glanced around the ladies room and saw that she was still alone, and
in a moment of recklessness she ran her hands over the sweater-enclosed tips of
her round firm breasts. They had been so sore and swollen, and her nipples so
raw, that she hadn't been able to wear the softest brassiere without pain for a
week. Her shoulders trembled as she thought back to the horrible rape of her
body by her husband and the way he had used her as a tool solely for his own
gratification without even the slightest consideration for her wants or needs.
He had used her like a slavehis own wifeand the memory sickened her even after
all the days which had passed since then. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she
recalled his last parting words just before he'd angrily stormed out the door
with his suitcase. She could still hear his voice ringing in her ears as he'd
yelled at her:
"I don't think you could make any man happy. Maybe when I'm in New York
I'll go out and get myself some slut off the street who'll give me the loving I
need!"
Dear God, would he? Has he? His letters had been so infrequent and
vague, his answers to her own almost daily letters sometimes ignoring the most
important parts. This was deeply distressing to Melanie, and she sometimes had
difficulty in sleeping at night, wondering if Tim still cared for her and was
being faithful to their marriage.
She looked again down her slim body, provocatively dressed as it was in
the short mini-skirt and thin pullover which Mr. Anderson had said was her
theater uniform. The rounded peaks of her breasts stood out defiantly, and she
could almost see the taut curve of her buttocks where they flowed gracefully
into her firm legs, the hem-line of her skirt being so daringly high. She was
proud of her youthful, curvaceous body, and yet it was the reason for all her
troubles. If she could have been a Plain-Jane, she would probably have been
settled down with children and happily married to some average fellow. She
would never have attracted such a popular boy as Tim, but then she would never
have been cursed with being wanted just for her striking beauty.
The hazy effect the brandy was producing seemed to simplify things into
an either-or kind of situation in her mind. She turned around and started for
the door of the restroom, and as she stepped out into the dim warmth of the Dew
Drop Inn, she fleetingly wondered if there couldn't be a middle ground
somewhere in between where she could find true happiness...
Melanie threaded her way unsteadily through the ring of small, intimate
tables which surrounded a polished dance floor. Over in one corner was her
table, the one she was sharing with Amos and Sybil Anderson. This was the
first time that she had been with them socially, and though she had been
reluctant at first, she was now glad that she had accepted their invitation and
pleased that they had asked her to join them.
Both the Andersons, especially Amos, were so understanding and nice to
talk to, and Melanie couldn't help feeling that her new employer had a real
interest in her welfare. When she had gone to work that evening, Amos had
invited her to a party at his house, which, he said, was being held after the
theater closed for the night. She had made excuses at first, declining the
invitation because she had never liked to drink much and would have preferred a
quiet time at home alone. But Amos had persisted in his genial and persuasive
way, saying that he was meeting Sybil for a cocktail after work, and the least
Melanie could do was have one with them. She realized then that his invitation
was really a good-natured attempt to get her out of the shell of self-pity into
which she had withdrawn. For this, the lonely young wife was grateful to him,
and had then accepted for both the cocktail and the party, suddenly wanting a
few gay hours to help take her mind off of Tim's absence and seeming neglect.
At first she had been very nervous in the Dew Drop Inn, feeling
improperly dressed in her scanty skirt and sweater, but there'd been no chance
to rush home and change, and Amos had laughingly told her that it was too dark
for anybody to be that inquisitive anyway. She had also felt unsettled at just
being out like this, alone and without her husband, even though Amos and Sybil
were only good friends. But, after a drink had calmed her nerves a little, she
had mused that if Tim didn't think enough of her to return her daily reminders
of love, then perhaps she deserved an innocent diversion like this.
"Well," Amos Anderson said expansively as she approached, "I thought for
a minute you'd gotten lost. I was about to send a Saint Bernard out looking
for you with a cask of Brandy Alexanders. Female Saint Bernard, of course."
"No, no," Melanie giggled, sitting down. "You know how long it takes
women to freshen up."
"Ah, how well I do," the handsome man sighed with exaggeration, and then
winked broadly at his wife. "But you're back, my dear, and just in time for
another round of drinks."
"But really, I don't think"
"Nonsense!" Amos boomed, signaling for a waiter. "Sybil has to leave in
a few moments to drive some of the guests to our house, so we'll just have time
for one more quick one. Waiter, bring us two scotch-and-waters and one Brandy
Alexander."
"You like the Alexanders, Melanie?" Sybil asked.
"Oh yes, very much. I... don't like the taste of liquor very much, but
these are very smooth and refreshing. I should have discovered them before.
Thank you for suggesting them, Mrs. Anderson."
"Do call me Sybil," the older woman purred.
"That's for sure," Amos chimed in, a slight red flush of alcohol covering
his cheeks. "We're out for a good time tonight. Let's eat, drink, and be merry
as the saying goes, because we're all good friends together. Melanie, Sybil
and Amos. One-Two-Three. Yes, siree."
The new round of drinks appeared, and after she had sipped almost half of
her brandy, Melanie noticed that the lack of food was finally making a
difference. She was really beginning to feel the liquor, but in a most
pleasant manner as she relaxed and some of her mental caution disappeared. She
soon found herself having a very animated conversation with both the Andersons.
Amos was witty and could converse artfully on a dozen different subjects, and
even his slightly naughty risque jokes didn't offend her, but set her laughing
delightfully. He was a very nice, very handsome, very urbane man whom she was
finding herself liking more and more. A rapport with Sybil also developed
easily, and they were soon discussing the latest fashions and what it would be
like to take a round-the-world cruise.
Melanie was enjoying herself more with every passing minute, feeling
giddy and light-headed and almost carefree for the first time since Tim had
departed. She was extremely happy that she'd agreed to go along tonight, and
was looking forward to the rest of the night up at the Anderson house.
"Why don't you ask Melanie to dance, Amos?" Sybil suggested as the
conversation hit a momentary lull. "I have to leave in just a moment and want
to finish my drink, but you shouldn't let such good music go to waste."
"An excellent suggestion," her husband agreed with a smile, and rose from
his chair to offer Melanie his arm. "Shall we, my dear?"
"Well..." She hesitated, but then thought if Sybil had suggested it, it
must be all right. "I'd love to, Amos."
He led her out to the dance floor where the small combo was playing one
of the quiet old favorites. She was taken by surprise when he curled her
warmly in his arms, pushing the sharp, full tips of her breasts deeply into his
chest. She wasn't sure how to react at first, and stiffened automatically as
he hugged her close.
"Don't be afraid, my dear," her boss whispered warmly into her ear. "I'm
not planning to bite you."
Melanie's face flushed in the dimness of the dance floor as she felt him
push forward harder and spread her legs slightly so that the mound of her loins
were forced against the top of his thigh. The soft silkiness of her dress
seemed to hide nothing from her senses and she could feel the resilient flesh
of her right thigh brushing tightly between the older man's legs as they moved
slowly in time to the music. Inadvertently, she made contact with the softness
of his trousered penis, and with a start, she felt a slight stirring of his
manhood beneath his pants.
"We... we shouldn't be dancing like this, Amos. It... It doesn't look
too good to be this close, and your wife might object."
"Oh, she won't care," Anderson said in an offhand way. "She doesn't care
what I do."
"B-But you're a married man," she stammered in a whisper. "And... and I'm
married, too."
"Yes, my dear," Anderson replied with oily smoothness. "That always makes
it more exciting, don't you think?"
Melanie suddenly lost her tongue, surprised as she was by his
strange-sounding words to her. Before she could think of a proper answer, the
music stopped and the combo leader announced it was time for intermission.
"Your husband is a very good dancer," Melanie managed to say, trying to
cover the blushing she was feeling in her cheeks.
"Sybil is too," Anderson said, smiling broadly. "Used to be the best in
Vegas, and not too many years ago, either."
"Don't listen to him," Sybil said to Melanie. "When a man is as good a
leader as he is, I could have two club feet and still dance well." She tipped
the glass of scotch to her lips and drained it in two swift swallows, then
collected her purse and stood up. "Well, I must be off."
"Oh," Melanie said, "must you?"
"If you want a party tonight, I do. I'm not sure when I'll get back, so
you go ahead and have another drink, and I'll see you all at the house later
on."
"Goodbye, dear," Amos said, and kissed his wife lightly on the cheek. He
knew there was no turning back for the young wife sitting next to him now. With
Sybil leaving, the stage was set for his seduction, just as they'd been
planning for the last thirty days. Yes, he was going to enjoy playing husband
this evening with Melanie, now that his own wife had made her excuses and left.
A slight twinge of anticipation rippled between his thighs as he pictured
little Melanie nakedly groveling before him.
"Well," he said warmly, turning his attention to the lovely young
innocent sitting next to him, "Here's to us, Melanie. Here's to us and our
getting to know each other better before the night's over."
Melanie tipped her glass to his and took a large, deep drink of her
Brandy Alexander, her eyes sparkling at her handsome boss over the rim of her
cocktail.
Another round of drinks was brought, and the two of them continued to sit
in the Dew Drop Inn, talking for almost half an hour. For some reason Melanie
couldn't explain, she was beginning to feel uneasy about being alone with Amos
Anderson. She already felt wicked and worldly for being out with another
maneven though it was not a datebut it was something else bothering her
slightly which she couldn't quite put her finger on. She knew that it was
perfectly all right in this day and age for her to be in the company of a nice
man like him, as it might not have been in her mother's day. She knew nothing
would happen, just as she'd told herself in the ladies room, and Amos Anderson
had been the very soul of gentlemanly discretion. Yet still there was a
pervading air of something wrong, something deliciously wrong as though she
were skirting some forbidden fate. She tried to recall what might have caused
it, but she could find nothing on which to base her small twinge of
apprehension. As she set her glass down, she decided to relax and stop being
such an old wet blanket, and that the tingling sensations in the depth of her
belly were only the result of one too many Brandy Alexanders on an empty
stomach.
"Well, my dear," Amos Anderson eventually said, "shall we drink up and be
on the way to my house?"
"Yes," she replied gratefully. "Yes, let's. Maybe your wife will be
there with the guests by now."
"Perhaps," Anderson said suavely, but inside his head he was thinking:
not a chance, little one. Sybil won't be where you can see her, and there
won't be any guests around to save you now...!
* * *
The ride to the Anderson home was beautiful, Melanie thought as she sat
beside Amos in his large convertible. The road wound through the lovely wooded
hills in back of Greenridge, and she could see out of the windows the
flat-lands below with their myriad of twinkling city lights shining like a
thousand fireflies. She was impressed by the rolling, well-landscaped grounds
around his spacious house when they arrived. But it was quiet, and the house
was dark, with no cars parked in the large driveway, and Melanie realized that
her employer's lovely wife had not yet returned from picking up the other
guests. Amos noticed this as well, and as he drew up the car in front of the
double-doored garage, he said jovially, "Well, my dear, we're on our own for a
while longer. Come on in, and I'll get things ready for the party, hmmm?"
He shut off the powerful engine, and was hardly out of his side of the
car before he was opening the door for her. He offered his hand, and Melanie
had a fleeting urge to refuse the proffered assistance, but then she took it
and allowed the older man to help her out. They walked up the driveway to a
crushed oyster-shell path which led around an outcropping of moss-covered rock.
She could hear a soft trickling of water as a stream fell pleasantly over the
rocks and flowed into a small Oriental pool. The path had a wooden bridge over
the water, and then came to the front porch, where a massive wood door was
recessed in green tiled framework.
Amos opened the front door, and Melanie followed him into the living
room, where he switched on the overhead lights. The lamps were soft and warm,
easing Melanie's small sense of apprehension, and she gazed around in wonder at
the size and luxury of the room. All of the furniture except for a long white
English lounge were of the finest Early American maple. One whole wall was
glass, with sliding panels so that a person could step out onto the flagstone
patio beyond. A large oil painting of the modernistic school hung prominently
near a white porcelain fireplace.
"Sit down, my dear, and make yourself comfortable," Anderson said as he
crossed the room to a maple console. "Slip out of your shoes, why don't you?
I'm sure your feet must be tired after standing on them all evening."
"Thank you." Melanie answered, and she did as he suggested, removing her
flats and then sitting down on the couch. She drew her bare legs up under her
on the cushion, and primly tried to pull her short mini-skirt down as far as it
would go.
Anderson leafed through a record album and said over his shoulder: "Would
you like a little music while we're waiting?"
"That would be nice," she replied, dimpling. "Something soft and
soothing, if you have it."
"I most certainly do, my dear." In a moment, violins and muted horns
drifted across the room like a cloud of relaxing warmth. "Percy Faith, I hope
you like him?"
"Oh yes, very much." She tucked her legs further beneath her as Amos
Anderson came over and sat down on the couch. She was pleased to see that he
didn't try to sit next to her, but actually sat a little further away than was
socially necessary. She had been foolish, she thought to herself. Amos was a
handsome, appealing man with a certain allure which fascinated her, and that
was the only reason for her slight uneasiness. Herself! And certainly she
wasn't going to do anything wrong!
"It is nice, my dear, it is indeed." Anderson closed his eyes and tapped
his fingers on the arm of the couch as though the only thing in the room were
the strains of the music. For all his aching desire to thrust his rapidly
hardening cock up into the narrow slit of her tight little cunt, he knew that
to suddenly attack her would be the worst plan he could follow. She would have
been pawed half to death by school-boy dates and more than likely by that oaf
of a husband of her's, and he figured correctly that before any physical
conquest of her tender young flesh, he would have to lessen her mental barriers
with a sophisticated approach. And he had just the thing to do it with, too...
He picked up a scrolled silver cigarette case from the table beside him
and opened its hinged lid, selecting a thin brown cigarette from its contents.
He held out the case.
"Have a cigarette, my dear?"
"No, thank you. I have my own in my purse."
"I noticed that you are just about out. Please try one of mine and see
how you like them. They're as mild tasting as your filter-tips, only with more
flavor."
"Really? What kind are they?"
"Mexican, my dear," Anderson said, and then to reassure her, he added:
"The soil down there makes the tobacco look different."
"Well, I"
He urged the case closer to her hesitating fingers. "Just take a few
puffs slowly and see, my dear. Go ahead. If you don't like it, put it out,
and I'll mix you a drink."
"All... All right," she answered falteringly, and took a cigarette,
bending her head so that Amos could light it for her.
"Slowly, slowly," Anderson instructed her. "That's the way they taste
better." Melanie watched him as he took a drag and inhaled very gently. She
followed his example, and found a strange but not unpleasant taste. She
inhaled deeper on the next puff and held it down a few seconds. After three or
four inhalations, she could hardly feel it go down her throat at all, it was so
smooth. She continued to smoke, holding the air down for as long as she could
each time...
"Do you feel anything?" Anderson asked blandly as she neared the end of
her first cigarette.
"Why yes, I do. I feel... feel very nice," Melanie said in a voice that
didn't seem to be her own. She glanced at the man sitting beside her, and he
suddenly looked to be miles away. "What... What kind of cigarette did you say
this was, Amos?"
He answered with a soft chuckle. "Marijuana."
"Marijuana!" She had heard about the drug only fleetingly, and then
mostly to do with its being smoked at wild parties. "Will... Will this make me
do things I don't... I don't want to?"
"No, of course not, my dear," Anderson scoffed. "You smoke it because it
doesn't make you dull and sleepy like alcohol can. It leaves you mellow and
feeling smooth, that's all. Isn't that how you feel now?"
"Yes, Amos, yes it does..."
Anderson smiled back at her, passing her another thin brown cigarette to
replace the one she'd smoked. Without thinking, Melanie pressed it to her lips
and pulled deeply, feeling this one heightening the pleasant sensation the
first had caused. She felt strangely and euphorically bodyless and liked it,
and the longer she held the curling smoke in her lungs, the softer her world
became. She noticed the lights of the room becoming fuzzy, but the thin, brown
cigarettes had dulled any fears she had about what she was doing... or should
be doing. She was beginning not to mind anything now with the delicious warmth
of the marijuana filtering through her blood and mixing headily with the
alcohol she had already consumed. She could feel her flesh tingling all over
deep inside... deep down where she had never felt anything before in her
life...
The corrupting movie-maker caught the almost imperceptible relaxing of
Melanie Cartwright's natural defenses, and inwardly gloated with obscene
delight. He continued to talk with her as he watched her smoke the strong
marijuana, his tones as warm and calm as the music and the cigarettes. He was
experienced in the sensing of the most subtle of moods, knowing perfectly when
to retreat or advance, and he moved inexorably from innocuous subjects at first
to other, more intimate discussions. He was well aware that even the mention
of sexual things would produce a passionate response in the drugged soul of
this innocent young woman and cause a sensual tingle which would fill her
slender, firm body until she would not be able to resist it... Or him...
"How are you feeling now, my dear?" he asked, handing her a third
marijuana cigarette.
"I feel so wonderful, Amos. I wish I never had to go home."
"It must be miserable, there all alone without a man."
"Even with Tim, it's" Melanie caught herself just before she blurted out
all her innermost troubles. She put the back of one slim hand to her mouth in
a gesture of silence.
Anderson moved closer, sliding himself across the cushions of the couch
until he was almost touching her voluptuous young body. "What is it, my dear?"
he asked in a soothing voice. "Tell me, what is the problem. Maybe I can help
you."
Melanie shook her head, taking another deep puff of her cigarette in an
effort to still her beating heart. "N-No," she managed to whisper. "I... I
can't tell."
"You should confide in somebody, Melanie. I can see that you're very
upset about Tim for some reason, and it's no good to keep it bottled up inside
you."
"M-Maybe not, but I can't." She swallowed thickly, her mind dreamy from
the effects of the marijuana and brandy. "It... It has to do with sex, you
see."
"Everybody has sex lives, my dear. In this day and age of sexual
freedom, sex is talked and shown everywhere you go. Look at the
advertisements, the books, the movies I show at my theater. You shouldn't be
afraid to talk about sex with me..."
Melanie was dimly aware of Amos Anderson touching her shoulder with his
hand and draw her closer to him. His arm feels good, she thought to herself,
and so comforting... She pulled again on the cigarette in her lips. The musky
odor of Amos' cologne filled her nostrils, stimulating her more, and she
allowed herself to be pressed close against the firm supporting chest of her
employer. She lowered her head against his muscular leanness and thought
wretchedly of her marriage to Tim and how he hadn't held her in such a warm
embrace for an awfully long time.
Amos felt the soft, resilient flesh of the unsuspecting young wife press
tightly to his own body, and her firmly ripened breasts pulsing against his
chest. He let the soft strands of her honey-colored hair brush against his
nostrils as he whispered to her: "Maybe I can help, Melanie... Please let me
help you..."
"No," she moaned against him. "No, nothing can make it right."
"Shhh, you're getting too upset, my dear..."
"Oh, Amos, I'm miserable!" she heard herself mewl involuntarily. "I'm so
terribly miserable!"
"Then tell me about it, my dear. You'll feel better..."
Then, haltingly, she found herself unable to stop from pouring out her
heart to him. Even though she knew she should be more discrete about her
marital secrets, she was gripped by an overwhelming urge to confess to this
strong handsome man who was holding her as her father had after a nightmare.
Perhaps it was his soft, reassuring voice, or the influences of the brandy and
the cigarettes, but whatever was urging her on, it was uncontrollable, and she
unburdened her misery to Amos Anderson. She told him in half-sobbing, broken
words about what had happened to her that last night before Tim had left for
New York, and the nights which had preceded it in her less-than-perfect
marriage, and she even included the sordid incident in Tim's parked car when
they'd been engaged. It all came out, and when she was finished, she pressed
her tear-streaked face tight against Amos' chest, sobbing as though her heart
was broken.
The lecherous older man stroked her hair lightly in gentle comfort, and
then he stroked the satiny skin of her arm, a small smile playing across his
handsome tanned features. So... just as he thought! A rutting boar of a
husband, and a frigid mother! And yet, he could tell that irately Melanie was a
very passionate woman beneath her surface, only waiting for the proper
combination to stroke her furnace to the boiling point. And he was just the
man to do it.
By God, he was... and would be tonight!
In the same tone of voice as he'd been using all along, Anderson said
softly into her ear, "Don't think about it any more, my dear. Don't think
about how your husband took you all those times so brutally... Don't think how
he hurt you inside..."
Despite herself, Melanie was beginning to slowly experience an almost
soporific dream as she remained huddled in Anderson's strong, gentle embrace.
His words were soothing and hypnotic to her, and though she was aware that he
was telling her not to think of what she had done and felt with Tim, the
visions were more clear in her mind than ever. She didn't want to think about
it, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She clutched the thin material of
Anderson's shirt, finding security in his masculine nearness and the gentle
stroking of his hand on her bare arm...
Anderson could feel her warmly throbbing breasts harden beneath her thin
sweater, and he knew his words were having the desired effect on her mind. She
was thinking about it, seeing her and her husband mentally, and the images were
causing her unmistakable, if unwanted, arousal in her body. It's working, he
thought gleefully. I'm going to fuck this bitch yet!
"Don't think how he would press his naked body down on your's and force
his hardened penis deep up inside your tender vagina with brutal force. Don't
think how he would pump up and down frantically inside you..."
Strangely, perversely, the images of Tim raping her painfully swollen
pussy came back to her a hundredfold. The marijuana and brandy swirled
heatedly through her bloodstream, and her nerve-ends seemed to tingle for
reasons she could not understand. She could feel a taunting tendril of some
unmentionable sensation creep slowly through her loins, and a strange moistness
seep out from between her tightly clenched thighs to wet the soft white nylon
of her panties. Her nipples were hardening under her brassiere, even though
she willed them not to with all her strength. The images continued to grow of
their own volition, and Amos was too close, too exciting...
"Don't think about you and Tim, Melanie. Don't think about how he was
fucking you. Yes, fucking, my dear... fucking is exactly the right word to
describe how he slid in and out of your sweet little cunt until he came with
his sperm deep up inside you..."
Anderson could feel Melanie trembling beneath his arm, and now with other
emotions than just misery and shame, he thought victoriously. Her loneliness,
her physical needs, the aphrodisiac marijuana, and the alcohol in her blood
were all working in harmony, on her basic sensual nature, breaking down the
barriers of her false prudishness and baring the hot, wild woman beneath. He
couldn't control his eagerly pulsating cock from leaping into full erection at
the idea of sliding his own male hardness up inside the pussy which her husband
had foolishly rejected. Damn, he couldn't wait another moment! She was
breathing faster and faster with every word he cooed into her ear, and if there
was ever going to be a time to make his play for her, it was right now!
Now was the time to strike!
HelpWife.txt -- 4/7
A Helpful Wife
Chapter 4
"No, Melanie," Amos Anderson whispered with rising heat. "No, don't think
about how your husband fucked you. Think how much better it will be when I
make love to you! No man has ever made love to you... gentle, blissful love...
but I will. I'll show youlead youto the joys you've missed."
He pulled her on her side so that they were facing each other on the
long, wide couch, and then he ground his loins tightly into her's, sliding his
hand up over the soft roundness of her buttocks beneath her short mini-skirt.
"Oh, Amos, no!" Melanie whimpered into the wetness of his mouth as he
leaned over and kissed her hard upon the lips. She tried to pull away from
him, but she could not seem to find the energy to resist his caressing touch
and delicious kiss, the evil effects of the marijuana gluing her to his arms.
She squirmed against the cushion of the couch, forcing the crotch band of her
panties deeper into the crevice of her inner thighs. Its smoothness excited
the sensitive pink lips of her vagina. She could feel tiny throbs beginning to
pulse in the little bud of her clitoris, and she bit her lower lips tightly to
hold back the forbidden sensations that were slowly building up between her
legs. Dear God, what was happening to her?
Her alcohol and marijuana-dazed body stiffened as she felt her handsome
employer begin massaging her softly trembling buttocks from behind. As he
ground his loins harder against her, his mouth still locked wetly to her's, she
gasped and held her breath, feeling the rising hardness under his pants
pressing into her own unwantedly moistened genitals. She clenched her eyes
tightly shut, fighting her new unquenchable passions, but the soft fingers of
his hand nipping teasingly against her inner buttocks and the hardness of his
pulsating penis grinding into her loins brought further moans of helpless
submission to her lips.
"Oh, Amos, please don't," she mewled as she felt more lewd delicious
feelings rippling across the surface of her flesh. "N-No one but my husband has
ever touched me like this!"
"Always a first time for every thing, my dear," he laughed softly,
dropping his other hand down between their tightly merged bodies to the
flatness of her belly.
"Ohhh, don't do this to me please!" she sobbed. Her body jerked slightly
as she felt Anderson's fingers hooking and sliding the material of her short
skirt up the front of her naked thighs. She moaned and tried again to pull
away, using all her will power to overcome the strange new sensations that were
unwantedly building up deep in the pit of her stomach.
"My dear, what you need is to be made love to properly for just once,"
Anderson whispered. "Just once. You'll never have to be unhappy with what
you're getting at home again!"
Melanie gasped and held her breath as she felt the hem of her skirt reach
the top of her skirt reach the top of her thighs and his fingers suddenly come
in searing contact with the softness of her naked flesh. An electrifying shock
danced along the nerves of her inner thighs as she felt him trying to slip his
fingers slowly under the tight elastic leg band of her panties. She squirmed
desperately but futilely against the unyielding strength of his embrace,
whimpering as the full impact of this handsome older man wanting to make love
to her burst through the lulling effects of the marijuana and brandy. God,
what had come over him? And worse, what had come over her? They were both
married, and just because her husband was three thousand miles away was no
excuse for her to act like some whore! She had to get out of this awful mess
before it was too late!
"Please, Mr. Anderson," she sobbed helplessly, cringing against the back
of the couch. "Oh, please let me go! I feel like a fool behaving this way
with you. I love Tim no matter what, and I can't do anything I'd be sorry for
later. I just can't, Mr. Anderson!"
"Amos, my dear. Call me Amos, remember?" He smiled paternally down at
the fearful young wife. "And why can't you enjoy yourself a little on the
side? Nobody would know. Your husband is out in New York, and besides, he's
probably balling some pick-up he's made in a bar right now!"
Melanie moaned in self-pity. The suspicions she'd been harboring about
Tim being unfaithful to her pierced her heart like a dagger as she heard
Anderson's words. "I-I don't care," she said miserably, knowing she did. "I
would know what I had done, and that would be enough. I'd never be able to
face my husband again! I've gone too far as it is!"
"Too late, my dear," Anderson chuckled with a cold, cruel glint in his
eyes, as he decided to really take the initiative, "I want you, and deep down
inside you know you want me to make love to you. And by God, that's what's
going to happen."
Melanie tried to speak, but she couldn't, only able to press herself
tightly back against the couch in disbelief. She watched, mesmerized, as he
began stripping his clothes from his body with his free hand. She wanted to
close her eyes to shut out the horror, but before she could find the strength,
he was completely naked. His thick, hard penis stood out from beneath the firm
muscles of his tanned abdomen like the menacing shaft of a heavy, blunt spear.
He leaned toward her, still holding her thighs down with one hand, and stroking
the heavy uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over the bulbous head of his
hardened cock with the other.
"Bet your husband never had anything like this to slide into you," he
gloated proudly. He continued his tormenting of the terrified girl, watching
the contorted expressions of fear and unwilling arousal cross over her face.
Melanie tried to avert her eyes, but against her will, she found that her
gaze was dropping again to the hard fleshy erection he was holding in his hand.
God, it was thick! In spite of her fear, her drugged mind wondered how a woman
could take such a thing inside of her without being split completely apart.
Anderson was built and he knew it, and he hunched near her for a moment
longer reveling in the awe the size of his cock was bringing to her eyes. Then
he leaned over her and hissed, "Are you going to take your clothes off or shall
I do it for you?"
Melanie gasped and held her breath as she felt the hem of her skirt reach
the top of her thighs and his fingers suddenly come in searing contact with the
softness of her naked flesh. An electrifying shock danced along the nerves of
her inner thighs as she felt him trying to slip his fingers slowly under the
tight elastic leg band of her panties. She squirmed desperately but futilely
against the unyielding strength of his embrace, whimpering as the full impact
of this handsome older man wanting to make love to her burst through the
lulling effects of the marijuana and brandy. God, what had come over him? And
worse, what had come over her? They were both married, and just because her
husband was three thousand miles away was no excuse for her to act like some
whore! She had to get out of this awful mess before it was too late!
"Please, Mr. Anderson," she sobbed helplessly, cringing against the back
of the couch. "Oh, please let me go! I feel like a fool behaving this way
with you. I love Tim no matter what, and I can't do anything I'd be sorry for
later. I just can't, Mr. Anderson!"
"Amos, my dear. Call me Amos, remember?" He smiled paternally down at
the fearful young wife. "And why can't you enjoy yourself a little on the
side? Nobody would know. Your husband is out in New York, and besides, he's
probably balling some pick-up he's made in a bar right now!"
Melanie moaned in self-pity. The suspicions she'd been harboring about
Tim being unfaithful to her pierced her heart like a dagger as she heard
Anderson's words. "I-I don't care," she said miserably, knowing she did. "I
would know what I had done, and that would be enough. I'd never be able to
face my husband again! I've gone too far as it is!"
"Too late, my dear," Anderson chuckled with a cold, cruel glint in his
eyes, as he decided to really take the initiative, "I want you, and deep down
inside you know you want me to make love to you. And by God, that's what's
going to happen."
Melanie tried to speak, but she couldn't, only able to press herself
tightly back against the couch in disbelief. She watched, mesmerized, as he
began stripping his clothes from his body with his free hand. She wanted to
close her eyes to shut out the horror, but before she could find the strength,
he was completely naked. His thick, hard penis stood out from beneath the firm
muscles of his tanned abdomen like the menacing shaft of a heavy, blunt spear.
He leaned toward her, still holding her thighs down with one hand, and stroking
the heavy uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over the bulbous head of his
hardened cock with the other.
"Bet your husband never had anything like this to slide into you," he
gloated proudly. He continued his tormenting of the terrified girl, watching
the contorted expressions of fear and unwilling arousal cross over her face.
Melanie tried to avert her eyes, but against her will, she found that her
gaze was dropping again to the hard fleshy erection he was holding in his hand.
God, it was thick! In spite of her fear, her drugged mind wondered how a woman
could take such a thing inside of her without being split completely apart.
Anderson was built and he knew it, and he hunched near her for a moment
longer reveling in the awe the size of his cock was bringing to her eyes. Then
he leaned over her and hissed, "Are you going to take your clothes off or shall
I do it for you?"
"D-Don't touch me," Melanie finally managed to stammer through her
immobilizing euphoria. But she knew there was nothing to do to stop him now,
for the small part of her mind that was still rational was far too weak to
fight both his strength and her own body's strangely rising sensations. This
naked man was going to ravish her helpless flesh no matter how much she pleaded
with him not to!
He reached out and drew her hard against him, cupping her terrified young
face in his palms. With a triumphant grin he pressed his wet lips tightly down
over her's again, thrusting his tongue deep into the warm depths of her mouth.
She sagged limply on the couch, feeling the hardness of his fully exposed penis
digging into the softness of her stomach. A last faint thought of trying to
tear herself away flickered hopelessly through her mind, but faded with the
tender caress of his hands pressing into the sides of her cheeks.
"That's my lovely girl," he breathed into her mouth softly. "I'll be nice
and easy... so gentle with you. You'll see."
Melanie was dimly aware of his hands leaving her face and snaking around
her body to the hemline of her sweater. Almost as if he had hypnotized her
into submission, she allowed him to draw the thin pullover up over her breasts
and off her head and arms. The snaps of her brassiere came next and she heard
him mutter a faint sigh of lusty appreciation as he dropped it to the floor and
her full white breasts burst into the warm living room air. He reached behind
her again to the zipper at the back of her skirt, and with one swift downward
motion, he opened it away from her ripely flaring buttocks. She could feel the
sensual rush of air against her thighs as he pulled the skirt from her. She
swayed dizzily on the couch as she willingly arched her hips permitting him to
pull her white nylon panties slowly down over the softness of her rounded
buttocks and let them drop to the small skimpy pile of her other clothing on
the floor.
There was nothing left. He moved her feet up and now she lay stretched
out completely naked on the couch, hearing him panting on his knees beside her.
The heady smoke of the marijuana wafted sensuously through her blood,
intensifying the uncontrollable sensations which were unwantedly directing her
actions. She gritted her teeth together, resisting as best she could, but her
utter helplessness and the thought of her husband making love to some other
woman were too much for the tormented wife's confused, bedrugged mind. She
could only squirm back a little, whimpering as the tip of his finger found the
narrow tender crevice of her vagina and thrust gently into it, parting the soft
pubic hair and making sudden delicious contact with the hotly throbbing head of
her tiny clitoris. She was wet and sensitive from the unwanted desire that
permeated her entire being, and she sucked in her breath tightly to hold back
the sigh of pleasure she felt growing deep in her chest. There was nothing she
could seem to do to fight him back, and tears of disgrace cascaded warmly down
over her face as in her shame she found herself reacting involuntarily to the
tingling caresses of her overly sensitive breasts and vagina. She was unable
to keep from widening her legs, and found her buttocks suddenly undulating in
an involuntary up and down rhythm to the light teasing of his fingers sliding
between her thighs...
And all this while, Sybil Anderson was sitting with a lewd grin of
excitement on her face as she concentrated on the large plate glass before her.
She had come directly from the Dew Drop Inn, parking her car in the garage
where it could not be seen, and gone to the now pitch-dark den beside the
living room, where a two-way mirror was installed. She could clearly see all
the action, but from the other side, the glass was only a mirror which
reflected images, and now she sat sipping a tall Scotch as she watched her
husband progress with his seduction.
Damn! Sybil thought. Amos really knows how to get a woman going! She
could feel a slight twinge of jealousy overcoming her as she studied his face
and saw the unmistakable signs she knew so well. Her husband liked to fuck any
woman he could lay his hands on, and that was all there was to it. But what he
was doing now to that innocent blonde, Melanie, was going to let her, Sybil,
inside that same girl later. She leaned back with the obscene thought of those
long slim legs wrapped tight around her as she shoved her tongue deep inside
that warm, tender pussy. By God, she'd show little Melanie what loving was all
about! She could feel moisture seeping from her throbbing cuntal lips at the
idea as she turned her attention back to the two naked bodies writhing on the
wide couch on the other side of the mirror. Small beads of perspiration began
to form on her brow from the excitement she always felt when she watched her
husband fucking another woman half to death...
Through half-slit eyes, Melanie could see the shadowy form of her naked
employer crouching between her open legs that were splayed like angel's wings
on the soft, wide couch. She could feel the flat palms of his sweating hands
pushing against the softness of her inner thighs, and she watched with
gathering horror as his head dipped slowly down... lower... lower... and then!
"Ohhhh!" she jerked, as his hot moist lips closed over the hair-fringed
mound at the base of her belly. His eager face disappeared from her view into
the soft fleece of her pubic hair as he planted wet tickling kisses on the
still resisting crevice, his tongue flicking lizard-like at the quivering
opening of her cunt.
"Ohhhh God, don't! Please don't!" she whimpered, trying desperately to
screw her naked buttocks back down from the hot tongue flicking mercilessly at
her defenseless vagina. His answer was a lewd chuckle and a further stab into
the tight fleshy slit of her moistly pink flesh.
"Ahhhggggggg!" she moaned in undisguised humiliation, her head falling
back on the cushions as his tongue speared the involuntarily swelling lips of
her cunt. In spite of her terror and revulsion at the horrible perversion
being done to her helpless genitals, tiny wisps of forbidden pleasure began to
burn deep down inside her belly, and tingling little goosebumps rippled across
her quivering belly and full heaving breasts.
"Oh God, I can't, I can't let you do this!" she sobbed helplessly,
fighting the torturing sensations that were steadily building out of control
through her naked young body. She clenched her teeth tight together and fought
with all her will against the growing flames that were threatening to burst
into uncontrollable fire and devour her resistance. But it was a losing battle
as Amos Anderson sucked and licked ceaselessly at her increasingly submitting
loins, and her drugged mind hopelessly sensed her love-starved body beginning
to shamelessly desert her. Her smooth rounded buttocks jerked up involuntarily
toward his wetly darting tongue, sending more delicious spasms of sensation
coursing through her raw nerve ends.
Amos felt her surrender and, with a savage grin, he thrust his thick wet
tongue deeper into the hotly quivering sheath of her responding vagina. He
worked hungrily, feeling the soft moist pubic hair brushing tantalizingly
against his cheeks, knowing that she was far too gone now to fight anything he
wanted to do to her. As his lips rounded and covered the wetly clasping cunt
before him, he could hear low guttural moans from the girl whose soft warm
thighs were now closing spontaneously around the sides of his moving head. He
could feel her pink wet flesh moving around his long extended tongue as her
cuntal walls opened and closed in a sucking motion, attempting on their own to
pull him deeper into her. He had never seen anyone so hot, even with the
marijuana, and he knew she was now completely at his mercy and loving every
moment of it. She needed fucking bad and she was going to get it, her body
lost in the heat of her arousal.
"Ohhhh! Ohhhh!" she moaned, the cruel realization of her total loss of
control hitting her with shame and humiliation. But her thoughts were
fleeting, all that mattering now to her being the delightful shafts of pleasure
piercing through her nakedly quivering flesh like tiny prickling needles of
fire. She had never expected sex to be like this, that any man could bring
such things from her body. She reached down and desperately tangled her
fingers in his hair, guiding his face deeper to the spreading lips of her
hair-lined pussy, splaying her legs wider with abandonment to give him greater
access.
The evil movie owner could stand it no longer. His penis was incited to
a hardness he could no longer control, and he had to fuck this innocent young
wife before he exploded his cum all over the couch. He grabbed her flailing
legs behind the knees and shoved them roughly back against her shoulders,
slithering up her sweat-streaked body at the same time. His long rigid cock
brushed against her saliva-wet pubic hair, peeling her narrow pink vaginal slit
pulsing its lips with open invitation.
Melanie could see Amos Anderson hovering over her through her passion and
drug-dimmed eyes. She could feel the hardness of his thick fleshy penis lying
the full length of her quaking pink cunt, the jerking head of his cock
throbbing between her wide spread buttocks. He insinuated it in a maddening
tease that caused her to twist her hips up toward it, her hungry pussy
searching desperately for its hard blood-filled tip. Forgotten now were her
morals, her marriage, her vows to Tim. Nothing mattered any longer except to
have this man's penis far up inside her! Her belly was screaming for it!
Melanie felt the lips of her eagerly quivering vagina being forced open.
The elastic rimmed tightness resisted for a moment and then gave way before his
hard cruel pressure. The pain was harsh and she mechanically clenched her
muscles against it as a long low wail came from deep within her throat.
Anderson shoved again, enjoying her screams of pain, ramming forward and
sinking his lust-inflated cock all the way to the hilt. Her legs jerked out
wide on either side of his lean muscular body as she screwed her buttocks deep
down into the cushions in an attempt to escape the sudden brutal impalement.
"Nooooooo! It hurts! It hurts worse than Tim's!" she cried out. She
felt as though her body was being torn down the middle and that she would be
ripped in half from this giant male member embedded so deep in her belly. Her
face was contorted with the agony of his vicious stab inside her, her lips
curled back from her teeth, and pleading whimpers coming tumbling from her
swollen lips. God, oh God, she couldn't take it! She couldn't!
Anderson held her there for a moment, savoring the spectacle of this
innocent young wife impaled helplessly under him with his huge pulsating prick
buried deep in her tight little cunt. She'd never had it this deep, he gloated
to himself as he pinned her back in the lewd humiliating position. He wished
that her stupid husband could see her now, spread-eagled this way with a
strange man making her scream and yell. And then he felt her vagina contract
involuntarily as she flexed her inner muscles to relieve the impossible
pressure. He throbbed his penis gently, expanding it inside her, but still not
moving his body.
"Ahhhhgggg," she whimpered through bared teeth, trying to accustom
herself to this greater impalement.
He waited a moment and then flexed again, watching her contorted face
below. Her mouth hung limply open, her eyes clenched tightly shut. He flexed
again, this time setting a slow teasing rhythm to his throbs. He watched her
nostrils begin a slow hesitant flaring in time to the beat and knew that she
was on that fine line between pleasure and pain.
"Ohhhhh, God! God!" she mewled as the buried cock expanded more and
stretched the narrow passage walls of her vagina still more.
Anderson now began long smooth strokes into her defenselessly exposed
loins that were wet and slippery from his saliva. He withdrew the shaft of his
burgeoning cock until just its blunt tip was left inside the hot dilated
opening of her cunt, and then thrust forward hard with his hips until his
testicles slapped against the wide-split crevice of her buttocks.
Melanie groaned helplessly as her tender vagina was plundered again and
again almost beyond endurance. He was driving her head hard back against the
cushions of the couch with every jack-hammer thrust he made, and she couldn't
fight from her hopeless position. Her arms were pinned down at her sides by her
own updrawn legs. She could feel the giant heated rod of his hardened penis
sliding wetly up and down inside her warmly tight passage, and she strained
back against his vicious assault on her femaledom. But gradually she was
becoming accustomed to his monstrous size inside her, and a masochistic
pleasure she had never known before began to replace the firebrands of pain
that raced from her totally filled loins to the top of her head.
Goddamn, Amos is fucking her good, Sybil Anderson gasped from her seat
behind the two-way mirror. She watched the fleshy hardness of her husband
skewering to its hilt down between the young girl's widespread thighs, and an
obscene thrill rippled through her at the sight. Melanie Cartwright didn't
know it yet, but this was just beginning for her, and Sybil could hardly wait
for her chance to delve between those same urgently jerking thighs. In fact,
the way she felt right now, thinking about tasting the softly succulent flesh
between those long slim legs, she was tempted to go out and join them this very
moment!
Melanie could feel her womb flare wide and the tightly resisting lips of
her hair-lined cunt flower open to receive his massively heated staff of love.
Her nakedly writhing body felt itself coming to life now, the pain receding
more and more as maddening tingles darted up from her soft white belly.
Electric sensations rippled through her suddenly twitching cunt and out their
fleece-lined lips, dancing like lightning across her trembling thighs and up
through the tips of her pink, palpitating nipples. She rotated her hips from
side to side around the fleshy impaling cock, her vagina dilating to its
rhythmic beating, her body matching his pounding lunges with her own eager
upthrusts as she greedily sought more of his long hard cock.
Dear God, it had never felt this good when Tim had "fucked" her! She
didn't know why, and she no longer cared to ask. There was nothing else in her
world now; no tomorrow, no today, no Tim nothing except her deep, wet grotto of
lust and the pistoning hardness filling it. This was madness she had never
knowna total surrender to the lure of flesh, and her drugged mind reveled in
her wickedness.
"Ohhhhhhh, yes! Yes, Amos, fuck me! Fuck me hard! Hard!" she begged,
gasping. She was approaching what she instinctively knew was an orgasm,
something she always missed before, and her body became more animal than human
as she twisted and contorted in her frenzied quest for her first climatic
release.
A sudden flash of brilliant light made her clench her eyes tightly shut.
Through the haze of passion and marijuana she was vaguely aware of someone
having entered the room with a camera in their hands, but it didn't matter to
her. Nothing mattered except the naked body driving into her from above.
"Judas priest!" she heard a voice like Sybil's breath. "Look at little
Miss Innocent go!"
"I told you she'd let loose once the grass got to her, my dear," an
Amos-like voice panted triumphantly. You've been watching?"
"Every breathless stroke. Don't fuck her to death, lover. I still want
some of her tender pussy too, you know."
"In a minute, my dear. I'm almost there, and so is she!"
"Ram it to her, lover. I want a good shot of this!"
The puzzling voices continued as the remarks became more lewd and bright
white flashes struck again and again. But it didn't matter to Melanie. She
drove on unheeding, almost ready to cum and unable to stop. Her ravenously
hungry vagina spiraled up the full length of his slippery plunging cock as she
strove wildly for the end. Then
"Ohhhh God! God, yes!" she screamed up at him. "This is it! I... I'm
going to cum! Ohhh God, I've never cum before, and now I'm going to
cummmmmmmmm!"
Suddenly, with a deep-throated mewl, her naked young body began vibrating
uncontrollably, and heated secretions of release flowed from her throbbing
cuntal passage, drowning his impaling cock with a sticky warmth. She reached
frantically around under her squirming buttocks with both her hands to caress
his testicles that were pressing into the split of her behind. She felt them
spasm...
"Cum! Cum with me! Ohhhhhhh, God, cummmmmmm!"
She could feel her insides splitting delightfully apart as the head of
the deep-sunk penis suddenly flared into a hugeness that threatened to tear her
belly in two. It began to spurt and she could feel his delicious thick sperm
shooting into her like molten lava, erupting in spilling answer to her own hot
flowing cum into the already filled cavern of her pinkly quivering vagina.
"Ohhhh, fill me up! Fill me up!" she moaned incoherently as the tender
flesh of her pussy clasped like a hungry glove around his wildly spurting cock,
sucking the last drop as it continued to gush her own hot streams of orgasmic
fluids. She screwed her buttocks up tightly against the still squirting shaft
in her cunt and, with another scream from between her tightly clenched teeth,
felt her body exploding over and over into what seemed a thousand tiny sparks.
Her strength was suddenly gone and she collapsed back on the cushions, feeling
Anderson's once-hard penis slowly begin to deflate inside her cum-flooded
pussy.
"Ahhhhh..." she sighed dreamily. She'd been fucked and fucked better
than she had ever been before in her life. Her pubic area throbbed with a
sweet continuous ache, and her flesh trembled from the passionate sensations
which had turned her into a sex-craving animal. So wonderful... and as the
very shamelessness of her wanton surrender flickered hazily through her mind,
the mental image of her naked body being fucked to orgasm by this lewd man
lying above her incited her drugged mind once more to arousal. The hunger in
her belly began raging out of control again almost instantly. Unconsciously
she began to undulate her buttocks in tiny circles, squeezing with her cuntal
muscles at the fleshy, flaccid penis still pulsing inside her loins. She had
milked it dry once, but spurred on by her newly discovered sexuality and the
marijuana in her blood, Melanie was gripped by the desire to have Amos' long
thick cock harden in her again. She wanted more of his hot thick sperm to fill
her thirsty cunt until it overflowed and ran down her already wetly covered
thighs. She wanted to wallow in it again, wallow in her new-found depravity.
"Again... Oh, God, again!" she sobbed out with frustration into his
mouth. But it was useless. As much as she squeezed her buttocks up against
his softened penis, it would not come alive, again, its mastery lost over her
seething emotions. With a satiated sigh of contentment, Amos Anderson rolled
from between her still gyrating thighs and onto the floor beside the couch.
"Noooooo! Nooooo, I want more! Fuck me! Fuck me again!" Melanie was
beside herself now with her drug-induced lust. She kicked her legs wide out in
the air, her own fingers manipulating ineffectually the hair-fringed slit
between her thighs. She dug into her vaginal flesh greedily, trying to reach
that impossible height to which that vanquished cock had sent her a moment
before.
Sybil smiled and tripped the camera she was holding another time or two,
a glitter of obscene desire burning in her eyes. Then she handed the camera to
her husband, who was sprawled on the carpet, and said: "All right, lover, now
it's my turn with her."
"Yeah, and I'll add a few good ones for the album before I join in, too."
Melanie felt the cushions of the couch depress as another body sat down
beside her head. Through lust-glazed, marijuana-fogged eyes, she struggled to
see who it was, and then her hands froze in their lewd position of
masturbation.
It was Sybil Anderson!
"Oh God," she mewled in sudden humiliation at Amos' wife seeing her like
this, naked and with her belly still filled with the wetness of her husband's
sperm. She opened her mouth in horror, but was too paralyzed to scream.
Instead she jerked one arm up from her still widespread loins and over her
face, her face reddening from the shame of being caught in this adulterous
position.
"There, there, Melanie," Sybil cooed softly. She began stroking the
satin blonde hair which was flowing across her legs as the young girl buried
her head in the cushions beside her thigh. "I'm not mad at anything. Don't
look so sad."
"Wh-What?" Melanie moaned in a broken, sobbing voice.
"I've come to join your little party, not upset it."
Melanie listened, mouth agape, scarcely able to believe what was going
on. As the initial reaction of horrified panic settled into disbelieving
wonder, she now sensed warm, unclothed skin brushing her cheek, and only then
realized Sybil was as naked as she was!
The young wife gasped, raising her head from the couch to make sure she
had felt correctly. In shocked astonishment she stared at the sight of the
naked beautiful woman sitting so close to her. Dear God, what now... now that
she's here nude like this? Join the party? How? But Melanie's glazed,
drugged mind was too filled with unsated passions, and her belly too aching
with unfulfilled desire, to fully understand.
Sybil leaned forward and took Melanie's tear-streaked face to her large,
firm breasts. Cradling the young wife tenderly as she caressed her brow with
gentle fingertips. "Now, don't get so upset just because you were fucking
Amos, dear. I've been watching, you know, watching you all the time and really
enjoyed it."
"S-Sybil? I... I don't understand... What are you doing?"
"Shhhh," Sybil whispered. "You just relax and let me bring you more good
times."
Anderson's passionate wife trailed her eyes along the length of the young
woman's body with undisguised relish, coming to rest at last on her slim white
thighs where thin trails of lewd sperm that had just been pumped into her could
still be seen glistening wetly in the dim light. Her face contorted with
feline pleasure as she thought that now her turn had come... that Part Two was
just beginning!
Melanie lay as if frozen against the soft, warm breasts pressing into her
cheek, a dry, almost strangling sensation in her throat. She was shocked and
surprised, and yet not quite able to resist the smooth motherly caresses. She
shuddered, torn between the hot desire scorching her still throbbing vagina and
the quick twinge of shame and humiliation that flickered through her confused
mind. Then Sybil's hand reached downward to touch and caress one of her
breasts, and Melanie experienced another new sensation she had never known
before. She gasped, momentarily closing her eyes, as she heard Sybil's husband
chuckle lewdly beside the couch and flash another picture. The long, slim
fingers caught her nipple, rolling and squeezing it in a tender, understanding
way only a woman could know, and Melanie began to tremble all over at the
strange forbiddenness of the situation. This was vile and degrading, worse than
when Amos had ravished her willing body with his hard, brutal penis... but at
the moment her entire being was in a torment of drug-filled lust, and she
couldn't have stopped the beautiful woman's fingers if she'd wanted to.
"You're such a pretty girl," Sybil sighed. "I've thought so since I
first saw you. Have you fucked many men, Melanie?"
The obscene question jolted her. At first she didn't know how to answer,
or even if she should...
"Tell me, love... Please tell me. I get more excited then..."
"N-No..." Melanie finally stammered, not really knowing what made her
respond to the lewd question. "O-Only my husband."
"And mine, don't forget," Sybil giggled delightedly.
"Y-Yes, and... And Mr. Anderson." She blushed crimson, the obscene words
exciting her strangely through the marijuana haze of her mind. "I... I let
your husband fuck me."
"And you loved it, too. But you'll like his wife just as well before I'm
done. I'll promise you that. I'll make you cum like you've never cum before,"
Sybil whispered seductively, now tilting her head down so that her nostrils
breathed heavy hot air on Melanie's face. "Kiss me, love... Kiss me..."
Melanie stiffened as the warm moist lips of Mrs. Anderson closed over
her's, and a darting tongue probed along her tightly closed lips. There was a
feeling that to kiss another woman would make what was happening all that more
obscene, as if there was actual love and affection between them rather than
just a basic urge to relieve the tensions unbearable in her loins. But Sybil
had her hand cradling her head now, and after a moment of hesitation she
surrendered to the insistent soft tongue, opening her lips to let it slide into
her mouth. Their mouths fused hotly, and Melanie found herself responding with
all the passion she would have saved for her husband, sucking and savoring the
saliva from the naked woman's mouth, and only conscious of the delicious
sensations the French kisses were causing in her already excited flesh.
"Ohhhhh, God, Sybil," she murmured as they broke apart. "God, I can't
seem to help myself..."
"Isn't that wonderful; But tell me... Tell me what you want!"
"M-Make me cum, Sybil... Ohhhh make me cum...!" Her own lewd demands
made her drugged mind reel with excitement, and her pulsing blood raced faster
through her fevered flesh. Sybil's hand continued to massage her breast with
that special woman's touch, while Melanie, her abused body still smoldering
with the lust-inspired fires Amos Anderson had kindled in her loins, found
something horribly fascinating in his lovely wife's attentions. She closed her
eyes again and began to tremble all over from the depraved sensations she was
feeling, and Sybil held her tight, rubbing her naked body against her own so
that the nipples of their breasts crushed against each other.
Melanie felt the woman's full thigh raise and her slim leg entwine about
her until the soft curly hair of their pubic mounds brushed warmly together.
Her hand was on Melanie's buttocks, pulling them apart to slip between and
caress the tight sensitive anus with her finger, forcing Melanie to move
against the back of the couch and bend slightly.
And then the lesbianic wife of her employer was slithering down the young
wife's yearning body, and Melanie groaned as Sybil kissed her breasts with
soft, wet, feather-light lips. The couch sagged again and Melanie caught her
breath as the woman commenced to shower moistly heated kisses on her quivering
white thighs and tautly rippling belly. And then Sybil forced her legs wider
apart, rolling her gently over on her knees. Melanie now straddled the other
woman who was lying face up beneath her and between her widespread thighs.
The full expanse of the shamelessly aroused girl's moist pink crevicefrom
her tiny quivering clitoris hidden in the soft curls of her blonde pubic hair,
down past the wetly sensitive vaginal opening which had just been fucked, to
the puckered rosebud of her anuswas entirely open and splayed above the older
woman's lustful eyes. And in turn, Sybil was lying in such a position as to
present her own dark-fringed throbbing cunt only inches beneath Melanie's young
face.
A great shudder coursed down Melanie's spine as Sybil's hotly quivering
tongue licked across the soft blonde pubic fleece just around her wetly
throbbing cuntal slit. When the tormenting tongue licked again, Melanie cried
out deliriously as the black-haired wife nipped her budding clitoris with her
sharp white teeth. The younger woman let all remaining thoughts of right or
wrong, depravity or passion, pass in one sudden surge of rising ecstasy, and
she lowered her firm thighs downwards upon the kissing mouth of Amos' wife,
ecstatically as her sensitive pink flesh was licked and kissed with frenzied
delight.
In turn, Melanie found that she could not resist brushing her own fingers
lightly over the tanned belly and full round thighs of the gorgeous naked woman
below her; then she felt a new surge of excitement when she saw the older wife
tremble and mewl with desire as little droplets of secretion moistened the
pulsating edges the flowering cunt below her face. Sybil's skin felt so good
to touch, and as the other woman continued to plant long slaving kisses on her
burning vaginal crevice, Melanie was filled with a mounting desire to return
the soft liquid caresses. She reached down around Sybil's warmly writhing
buttocks and lowered her mouth to brush lovingly through the soft velvet curls
of dark pubic hair below her. I can't... I can't kiss another woman's
genitals... And then, suddenly, in a burst of passion her lips and tongue were
burrowing down inside the tender swollen folds of moist vaginal flesh. She
could smell the fragrant bouquet of feminine aroma rising from Sybil's heated
loins, and her own moistening pussy ached all the more from the twin
excitements of being licked so voraciously and sucking another woman's cunt in
return. She screwed her naked young buttocks down harder, splaying her thighs
as far as they could go to allow all of her backsides to be fondled and
suckled.
It was this wanton movement which caused Sybil to mewl back in a gasping
muffled voice:
"Ohhhh! That's it, dear! Faster! Lick and suck me harder!"
Melanie sucked hungrily now, teasing the woman's little clitoris as Sybil
was doing to her own, and salivating as she had never before from licking the
moistly quivering loins below. Her insides felt as though they had melted with
the heat of her passionate arousal. She thrust her tongue harder and harder
into the other warmly perfumed vagina every inch of her on fire and the walls
of her grasping young cunt sending out erotically maddening sensations
throughout her entire body.
Amos chuckled as he watched through the viewfinder of his camera, and
shot a snap of his wife's licking tongue hotly embedded between Melanie's
lust-swollen cuntal lips. His massive penis which had been soft and drained
only moments before was once more stone hard and throbbing with lust, and his
hands were shaking so badly that he could hardly take any more pictures.
Christ! His plans were working perfectly! Nothing had gone wrong, and there
remained only his additional subjugation and submission of the writhing,
drug-lusting young girl on the couch above his naked wife for Part Three to be
equally successful.
With a growl of bursting passion, he attached a timer to the camera and
then positioned it on the coffee table near the couch so that its lens was
aimed directly at the wetly probing mouth of the mindless girl. Yes... he'd
get one perfect picture of him and heronly one, but it would have to do. Once
he started in on her, he knew he'd never be able to leave those soft warm lips
of her's until he'd cum in her mouth! He set the timer and then moved for her,
fingering his turgid, aching cock lightly and feeling the savage heat of his
urgency boiling up like a volcano in his testicles.
Melanie didn't notice the naked Anderson until he had climbed on the
broad, soft couch in front of her bobbing head and had knelt between his own
wife's widely splayed legs. Fingers tangled in her hair, rudely jerking her
hungry young mouth up from the delicious folds of Sybil's soft vaginal flesh,
and then hands fumbled with her wet lips glistening with saliva and secretions.
She felt a rubbery hardness pressing against her mouth, and she opened her eyes
to stare at the long thick cock lewdly pulsing against her mouth.
At first she did the natural thing and struggled, trying to roll her head
from side to side and draw her thighs together against Sybil's ravenous sucking
of her cunt, but the older man held her tight and she could not move away. She
could only tightly clench her teeth and lips together and try to keep from
opening them, but Amos was not to be denied. As he increased the pressure, it
felt as though her lips were being pushed back through the sharpness of her
teeth; she could even hear him groan as he ground his spongy hardness against
her mouth. It was then that Sybil added an extra delicious thrust with her
fire-lapping tongue which Melanie was unable to ignore. She gasped with wanton
delight at the sensations coursing through her sex-crazed loins, and at this
moment the man crushed his heatedly throbbing penis through her softly parted
lips and into the warm cavern of her wet mouth.
Amos began immediately to screw his throbbing cock viciously back and
forth between his lips with an all-consuming lust. The despairing young girl
closed her eyes, her humiliation and her shame knowing no bounds, trying not to
think of the depraved attack to which he was subjecting her. But it was
impossible! His hands were holding her in a vise-like grip, his palms pressed
hard against her ears until they were ringing. His thick testicles bounced
against her wettened chin, and there was a warm musky odor from his genitals
which flared her nostrils with a strange excitement.
"Suck harder, you bitch," she heard him command harshly from above. "Suck
my cock harder..." And she did! She was conditioned to following his every
lewd demand now from the arousal in her flesh and the marijuana in her blood.
Her wetly parted lips slowly began to nibble at the thrusting thick penis, and
she coughed and spluttered at first until she became accustomed to this
unnatural invasion of her mouth. Oh God, what am I doing? she moaned crazily
to herself as two Andersons, man and wife, began to pummel her helplessly
sandwiched body between them. The sensual desires deep inside her belly which
had been released by her orgasm and triggered anew by Sybil's licking tongue
began to flicker hotly through her loins, and the mental image of how she must
look in her surrendered position only incited her more. The saliva in her
mouth grew and grew, becoming salty and thick with the emissions seeping from
the tip of Amos' wildly pumping cock. She could feel his penile shaft
expanding between her tightly ovalled lips as it had inside her cunt, and she
moaned piteously around it as he thrust his flexing buttocks forward and drove
his impaling hardness down her throat as though he were trying to meet his own
wife's lashing tongue that was skewering deep into her vagina from below.
Sybil had begun to lick and suck still harder now; spurred on by the
lewdly inciting thought of how her husband must look as he savagely speared his
wetly gleaming penis in and out of the innocent young wife's tortured mouth.
She lashed mercilessly up at the quivering bud-like clitoris of the young woman
splayed above her, using her teeth to tease and delight while Melanie writhed
and churned uncontrollably in rising desire. With an obscene and triumphant
satisfaction she could feel the muscles of the girl's inner thighs flexing and
unflexing with their own implacable lust, and she knew that any slight
hesitation the girl might have felt earlier was rapidly disappearing. She
could feel her own spiraling climax approaching like a rocket and spread her
quivering legs farther apart as she reached down along her perspiring body to
thrust three fingers into her own swollen cunt. She massaged her hungrily
clasping vagina with surging motions while she continued to suck salaciously in
time to the cruel buffeting of Melanie's writhing young body between her and
her equally depraved husband.
Melanie Cartwright had never felt so utterly abused and depraved before
in her life. But a lascivious fire was burning in her belly as the very
knowledge of her helpless submission weakened her already drugged spirit. A
strange masochistic joy once again began to rage through her tingling nerves
with the ever increasing sensations of Amos Anderson's long hard penis ramming
wetly between her lips and his wife's greedy mouth raping her hotly throbbing
pussy. She was beginning to desire this lewd subjugation and was growing to
wish for more of the obscene sensations which were saturating every inch of her
naked flesh. She rolled her clenching buttocks down in tiny lewd circles and
constricted the muscles of her cuntal walls to squeeze the wet, flashing probe
of the woman's spearing tongue. At the same time, she sucked insatiably at the
thick, swollen cock in her mouth, her cheeks bloating with his every thrust. It
was the first time in her life she had ever tasted a man's penis and she
hungrily explored it with her tongue, an excited moan escaping from her throat
as she betrayed her surrender to her own tormenting passion.
"That's right, my dear," Amos chuckled down at her, his voice coarse and
rasping with his arousal. "You like a man's cock now that you've tried it. Go
on... go on and take my balls! Squeeze them but be gentle! And suck! Suck
until I cum in your mouth!"
Melanie cupped his semen-filled testicles gingerly with her fingers, not
because he had spoken, but because she was unable to do anything else. She
sucked demon-like in a haze of drug-inspired passion, swishing her tongue
around and around the throbbing hardness sliding in and out between her tightly
ovalled lips and taunting the thin little hole in the blunt head of his cock
with increasing delight. The masochistic joy of being abused like some dirty
slut picked up out of the gutter permeated her innocent young body, and
submissive mewling sounds escaped from between her lips locked wetly around his
hard thrusting penis. She groaned with the forbidden excitement of knowing that
at any moment he was going to spew his lewd white sperm into her mouth until it
ran from the edges of her lips in heated white trails, and wickedly she wanted
to experience the lewd taste. She wanted to feel him shoot his cum into her so
she could swallow the creamy semen down her throat until her stomach was as
filled as her adulterous cunt. Her shame and debasement would be complete
then, and she would be the whore she had allowed herself to become tonight. She
had lost control over everything she knew was right and good and true, and
there was nothing left for her. She could never face Tim again with the same
innocence, for somehow she had turned into the animal she had previously
deplored, her decency and self-respect having totally deserted her for some
unknown, nightmarish reason she was unable to fathom. The Andersons wanted her
to fuck, then she would fuck! They wanted her to suck, then she would suck!
They wanted her to be a whore, and that was what she had become!
Her tormentedly drugged mind droned on senselessly, the very helplessness
of her position excusing away the weird masochistic sensations that were
surging so erotically through her belly. Her head bobbed up and down slavishly
over the thick shaft of his hardness, sucking to end it, sucking to draw his
milky white cum from it as she thrust her loins down harder against the more
than willing Sybil, opening her cuntal muscles wide so she could receive every
fractional inch of that wonderfully working tongue deep up inside her.
Above her flailing head, Amos groaned incoherently, every nerve he
possessed pulsing and throbbing between her soft warm lips. The pressure
building in his testicles as she eagerly fondled them was excruciatingly
wonderful, and his wildly throbbing cock seemed to be inflating beyond anything
it had ever done before. Then suddenly there was a jerking spasm in his loins,
and he knew his end had come. Nothing in the world could have stopped the flow
of thick white liquid that rushed like a geyser up from his aching testicles
and out the tip of his suddenly jerking penis. He gripped her head tightly
between his hands and shoved his lust-hardened shaft deep down her throat,
feeling her wildly sucking lips drawing his hot sperm out into the warmth of
her salivating mouth. He could feel her throat tighten and untighten as she
swallowed in great hungry gulps the hot, boiling cream he was spurting into
her, and he could see her cheeks bloating as the working cavern of her mouth
filled and emptied, only to fill again as he shot his cum relentlessly into her
mouth.
Even when his climax had ended, Melanie would not let go of his rapidly
softening penis. Her lips continued to nibble, her throat and cheeks
constricting as if to draw all of his fleshy manhood inside her, and Amos knew
that his wife was just about to tongue fuck the young blonde wife to orgasm.
Melanie felt as though she were losing her mind as she spasmed in
convulsive waves, her mind whirling in depraved sensuality as the fluid of her
cumming flowed out around Sybil's deeply flicking tongue. Her face contorted
and a low guttural moan erupted as she felt the other naked woman thrashing in
her own throes of orgasm, not knowing and not caring that Amos' wife had buried
three fingers inside her own cuntal hole to achieve this gratification. And
then, at last, it was over...
Melanie's legs bent obscenely as she rolled over and felt Amos' now limp
penis slipping from her mouth with a wet, sucking sound. A long sigh of
satiation rasped from the abused young wife's heaving chest, and she relaxed
her legs in relief from the painfully stretched muscles of her previously
kneeling position. Her body was beaten and filled as it had never been before,
and her heart pounded in her chest as she saw the obscene picture the three of
them nakedly made on the wide cushions, her arms and legs spread apart and two
sprawling people she hardly knew nakedly covering her between them. The
euphoria of the marijuana waned with the relaxation of her climax, and as her
mind slowly returned to sanity, a new and even more powerful wave of shame and
humiliation overcame her. God, she had no idea what had come to possess her,
but she had been unable to control herself in any way, and not only had her
body shamelessly betrayed her, but she had also betrayed her deep abiding love
for her husband. And with her shame, she was gripped by a bitter desire to get
away from this horrible house as fast as she could...
"Like it, my dear?" Amos said casually, lifting his head and grinning at
her.
"Yes," she said miserably. How could she deny the obvious after the way
she had been acting? "Yes, but now let me up. I want to go home."
"In a minute, in a minute," he replied in an off hand manner. "I'm still
resting comfortably. You sucked me inside-out, I swear, and right after I
fucked the hell out of you, too. I'm a little tired. Can you blame me?"
Melanie groaned from this further indignity. It was bad enough to have
been so weak and corrupt to have allowed herself to surrender to the man whose
cum lay hot and sticky deep in both her body's ends, but to have to listen to
him talk about it afterwards was simply too much to take.
"Amos, please, let me up, please," she whimpered.
"What are you worried about? There's nobody here but us chickens."
"I know, I know," she pleaded, struggling with muscles that were as
responsive as melted rubber. "But I've had enough."
"Let her up, Amos," his wife said sympathetically. She moved slightly so
that her thigh was no longer resting on Melanie's leg. "She looks dead-beat and
worn to the bone."
"Yeah, she does at that." Anderson smiled and sat up, removing his arms.
"Maybe she has taken all she can for one night."
"Forever," Melanie whispered in a promise to herself. She pulled herself
slowly to her feet, pausing as she nakedly stood to allow her aching limbs time
to adjust to the change before she tried to walk.
She saw herself in the full-length mirrorthe two-way mirror which she was
still unaware had helped in her seduction. She studied with tear-blurring eyes
the bruises and welts that marked her smooth white skin, and she reached up
hesitantly and touched her throbbing breasts. She winced, for they were
actually more raw and sore than they had been after Tim had so brutally raped
her a month ago. She stood a moment longer, eyeing her piteous form in the
mirror, and then stumbled back to the foot of the couch to pick up her clothes.
They were still in the heap in which they had fallen when Amos Anderson had
stripped her drug-helpless body naked a seeming eternity ago. A picture of
that disheveled pile could tell without a word the whole story of her sordid
downfall. The phrase "one picture is worth a thousand words" ran crazily
through her mind. A few hours ago she was still a faithful and innocent wife
who had never had anyone other than her husband, and now she stood with the
lewd sperm and obscene saliva of two complete strangers one female, one male
lying deep inside her body. No matter what Tim might be doing in New York, it
didn't excuse her for what she had done here tonight, and she vowed that
somehow she would always keep her shame a secret from him. Her husband must
never knownever!
She struggled slowly into her thin pullover and tight mini-skirt, and
then surveyed the living room one final time. It would live in her mind
forever as the symbol of her impossible degradation. Then she turned without a
word and started slowly for the front door.
"You want me to call a taxi, my dear?" Anderson asked.
She turned and studied the naked man. Handsome and muscular, a small
satisfied smile on his lips, Amos sat in total ease on the couch with his legs
casually crossed. His wife was curled beside him, a cat-like smirk on her
face, one of her slim hands tenderly stroking her husband's obscenely exposed
penis.
"No," Melanie said coldly, shivering as she turned away from the
salacious pose the two of them made together. "No, I don't want you to do
anything more for me, Mr. Anderson. You've done quite enough already."
She opened the large front door, hearing a soft chuckle, and she paused,
her spine stiffening. "And what's more," she called back over her shoulder,
"Please don't expect me at work tomorrow evening. Or any other evening."
"Oh really, my dear?"
"That's right. I quit!"
She didn't bother to close the front door, tears of shame and
self-loathing falling down her blushing cheeks as she stumbled out into the
night. Behind her, she could hear Sybil's loud, mocking shriek coming from
inside the Anderson home and chasing her into the dark street leading back to
Greenridge...
HelpWife.txt -- 5/7
A Helpful Wife
Chapter 5
Melanie Cartwright sat in an old squeaky rocking chair, her hands folded
neatly in the lap of her bathrobe as she stared sightlessly as the animated
screen of her television set. Her eyes viewed but did not watch; her ears
heard but did not listen; her mind was concentrating on more important matters
than the raucous images dancing only a few feet away. Three days of bed rest
and home care had alleviated most of the physical damages to her ravished,
battered and bruised body, but Melanie doubted if anything could ever eliminate
the horrible mental injury done to her soul.
Lethargically she rose from the rocker and walked to the kitchen, where a
three-quarter full bottle of bourbon was on the counter. It had been new and
unopened that morning, just as two empty ones resting in the garbage sack
beneath the sink had been full the last two respective mornings, and more than
likely this one on the counter would join them by tomorrow. It was her only
sedative to calm her ragged nerves enough to function during the daylight hours
and sleep through the dark night's constant dreams.
She poured herself a half a tumbler full, put the bottle back on the
counter and returned to the rocking chair in the living room.
Though it was brightly shining outside with Saturday's mid-morning sun,
she had closed the venetian blinds, unable to face the brilliance in her
present frayed condition. She took a long drink from the straight bourbon and
felt the liquid hit the bottom of her stomach. The warmth crept through her
body, causing a slight tingling sensation to ripple across her skin. It felt
good, so she raised the glass and took another long sip. Her heavy-ridded,
shallow eyes turned back to the soap opera on the television screen, but once
more her mind returned to the horror of that Wednesday night when she had
innocently accepted the Anderson's invitation...
The drinking at the Dew Drop Inn... The smoking of the marijuana... The
surrender of her spontaneously passionate body to the assault of her
employerher ex-employer now, thank God... The obscene mouth of his naked wife
upon her wide-splayed thighs... Oh dear God! She shivered convulsively and
took another large swallow of the amber liquor to soothe the misery in her
heart. She knew she should be filled with repugnance and loathing for the vile
things that had been done to her, and she was. But her nightmares were not of
them so much as of her own despicable submission and performance, and that was
scaring her more. She had not merely succumbed to the Anderson's perverted
advances, but had given herself willingly, and what had happened was as much
her own doing as either of theirs. The fact of the matter was that she had
been completely and wantonly enslaved by the ugly but delightful sensations
they had sent coursing through her helplessly trapped body. Had she been the
strongly moral person she had always thought herself to be, the whole repulsive
incident would never have happened.
God, she was so desperately ashamed. Tim would never forgive her if he
ever found out about that night. He was too proud and sensitive, and while a
woman might forgive a man for an indiscretion, a man could never forgive a
woman no matter how unfair it was. She still loved her husband, too, perhaps
more now with the dreadful knowledge that she had let her body betray her
fidelity. She alone had to suffer for this, and she was determined to protect
his honor and her marriage from the secret, no matter how much it might hurt
her deep inside herself.
Melanie drained her glass and returned to the kitchen to fill it once
more. After placing the bottle on the counter again, she changed her mind and
took it with her into the living room, setting it down within easy reach beside
the rocker. Again her mind revolved with the horrid remembrance of that
night...
Yes, there was no doubt about it. As things stood, the appalling truth
would be kept locked within her heart, there to remain hidden forever as far as
she was concerned. Time, she hoped, would eventually seal the vicious episode
away in some dark recess of her brain, there to heal until only a minor scar
would remind her it had ever happened.
She leaned her head back in the chair for a few moments, wondering how
she could ever convince Tim to move to another town or suburb, the further away
from Greenridge as humanly possible. But she knew she had to, for she must
never chance seeing the Andersons again, and so far she hadn't, not even
returning to the theater for her pay check. She could feel blood rising in her
cheeks at just the thought of what Amos' lean muscular handsomeness and Sybil's
voluptuous sensuality had done to her. Truly, they had reached her baser animal
instincts before they were through with her, and she could never allow her
naked flesh to run away with her like that again. At least not with anybody
else except her loving husband...
It was rather warm, and Melanie opened her flower-print bathrobe she had
been wearing since she got up that morning, and exposed her unclothed body to
the slight breeze that came in through a partially open front window. Once
more she inspected her soft, white skin, this time not looking for outward
signs of damage as much as for tell-tale traces of dissipation. Strange, she
had to admit to herself nobody could possible know by looking that she'd been
fucked and sucked half to death by another man and woman...
She concentrated on her breasts, and remembered vividly how Amos Anderson
had first taken their taut, puckish fullness and made them throb with life.
Yes, and had made her come alive until she had climaxed for the first time
ever, begging shamelessly for his thick, long penis to slave a burning fire in
her uncontrollably lusting vagina... a vagina which until then had known no man
except her husband. Melanie squeezed her eyes tightly shut as the erotic
memories came flooding back, reviving a sudden twitch between her thighs. She
was forced to squeeze her legs tightly together in an effort to end the
tingling sensation there, moaning as she again lay her head back against the
wicker of the rocking chair.
This is no good... I'm only torturing myself... I've got to get a firm
control of my senses! My God, am I going mad?
Suddenly she realized that the doorbell was ringing, and after a few
moments of waiting and hoping whoever it was would go away,, she resignedly
stood up and carelessly tied the cord of her bathrobe around her waist. She
walked down the short hallway to the door and opened it.
"Yes?"
"Mrs. Cartwright? Registered letter for you." A white-haired,
stoop-shouldered postman handed her a manila envelope. His eyes blatantly
traced the contours of her breasts and thighs under the loosely tied bathrobe,
and he smiled with obvious appreciation.
"Th-thank you," she said, drawing her robe tighter around her and
grabbing the envelope. Who could? There was no return address on the letter
itself, and only and unreadable scrawl on the receipt pasted to its front.
"You have to sign for delivery, Ma'am," the now ogling older postman
said, and held out a thick stub of pencil. She signed with a hurried
signature, blushing furiously at the knowledge that with every second she was
in front of him, the postman was breathing heavier with excitement. She handed
the pencil back and slammed the door before he had a heart attack on her
doormat and died with that obscene smirk on his lips.
My God, she thought as she took the letter back into the living room, and
sat down again, had she sunk so low that even a postman had no respect for her?
Angry at him, and at herself, she ripped the envelope open and dumped the
contents out in her lap... and was abruptly shocked mindless as if stunned by a
bolt of lightning!
There, lying in her lap was her pay check from the Bijou Theater. And
with it were three of the most pornographic photographs she could have ever
imagined. And worse, they were of her with Amos and Sybil Anderson!
In horror, she picked one of them up. The picture was a full-color
reproduction of herself kneeling nakedly on the couch with Sybil, sprawled
beneath her, licking hungrily at her tender pink vagina. Melanie had her
smoothly rounded buttocks splayed wide in full view of the lens, showing all of
her desire-moistened cuntal slit. With a helpless cry of revulsion, Melanie
flipped to the next, and saw her flushed wet mouth lewdly ovalled around
Anderson's hard, glistening penis. She gasped at this obscenity, but the third
picture was by far the worst. It showed the naked man's thick fleshy cock
pumping out his surging white semen into her painfully stretched vagina, her
backsides lewdly flooded with the overflow of his cum.
Melanie groaned and fell back, her arm over her eyes. From deep in her
subconscious, she now recalled the bright flashes going off and the strange
noises in the background. Her passion-crazed mind had not related them to a
flash camera at the time, but it was unmistakably clear to her now that's what
they had been.
She laid in the rocker for several minutes without moving, then slowly
sat up and looked down again at the horrible reminders of that evening, almost
vomiting at the lust which was so plainly visible on her face in each of them.
One of the three photographs had turned over, and on the back of it she saw
that a message had been written in the familiar penmanship of Amos Anderson. It
read:
"If you want the others, come to my house Saturday (today) at three
o'clock in the afternoon. If you think your husband would like the photos
instead, don't show up. Love, Amos."
It wasn't until she had read the message three times that the full impact
of its implications hit her. My God, what did he have in mind for payment?
He'd want something, she had no doubt about that... but what? He knew she had
no money...
And then her stomach knotted and convulsed as if it had just turned over.
She suddenly got the meaning, all right. There was little question regarding
what he had in mind, only what was to happen if she should be agreeable. The
ghastly truth that she was going to have to bargain the keeping of her secret
by giving Anderson her body seemed unbelievable to her, yet she knew that she
might have to do just that in order to avoid a worse fate. Suddenly she felt
nauseous as vivid memories of Amos Anderson crouched over her face, his large
throbbing hardness shoved halfway down her throat, flooded her mind. She fell
limply back on the rocker, reached for the half full glass of bourbon, and
drained it straight down. Droplets ran loosely down the edge of her mouth. The
burning sensation helped dull her senses a little, and she immediately poured
herself another, trying to smother the knowledge that in a couple of hours she
would have to return to that horror-house in the hills, for Tim's sake if
nothing else.
She couldn't bear for him to know the depths to which she had wallowed by
seeing those indecently filthy pictures of her. It would destroy all love he
had for her in one wide-eyed scathing moment. She drank the whiskey to give
her courage, then staggered defeatedly into the bedroom and began to dress. She
put on the same thin, low cut dress she had been wearing the night Tim had
attacked her, the irony of the choice not escaping her bitter thoughts, and
took a last look at herself in the mirror and a last glass of liquor. She
wanted to be as alluring as possible in hopes she could convince Mr. Anderson
to give her the dirty pictures without having to compromise herself too much.
But she had the most dreadful apprehension that merely looking nice would not
be enough to satisfy that evil man's degenerate soul.
* * *
Melanie's taxi pulled up in front of the Anderson's spacious home a
little before three. Well, better late than never, Melanie thought with
wryness as she paid the driver. The neighborhood was quiet but there were an
awful lot of automobiles parked around, and she had a momentary sense of panic,
almost turning to tell the driver to take her back to her home. But her
overwhelming desire to recover those pictures took hold of her again, and she
gathered up her spirits and walked along the crushed oyster shell path, over
the bridge, and to the front door. She pounded the brass knocker, and after a
few moments, the door slowly swung open.
Amos Anderson stood smiling in the doorway, softly tweaking the end of
his mustache with one hand, the other in the pocket of his crimson velvet
smoking jacket. The thumb of the hand that was in his jacket pocket was
exposed, and it rubbed along the seam with a casual motion. Melanie couldn't
tell if he had a shirt on underneath the smoking jacket, although he was
wearing a pair of snug trousers and his usual black shoes polished to a high
luster.
"Well, my dear, I see you accepted my invitation," he said smoothly.
"Good to have you here again."
"I-I want those pictures, Mr. Anderson," she blurted, trembling.
"Yes, I suppose you do." He moved aside and held the door wide for her.
"Well, do come in and we'll chat about it. And please, my dear, please call me
Amos. I so prefer it among friends."
He was definitely no friend of her's, but Melanie didn't want to say
anything that would harm her chances, so she replied: "Thank you... Amos." She
walked into the all too familiar living room, and almost sat down on the wide
white couch before hastily changing her mind and settling in a small chair
instead. She nervously crossed her legs, seeing already from the way that
Anderson was roving his eyes over her mentally cringing body that it would not
be easy to accomplish her purpose.
"Now then, my dear, let's consider this situation." Amos talked softly,
leaning with one elbow on the mantle of the porcelain fireplace. "You have
something I want, and I have something you have to have."
"Mr. Anderson... Amos," she said, catching the fire in his sultry eyes,
"I love my husband... I want to forget what happened between us. Please, won't
you let me have those pictures?"
"My dear," Anderson said, chuckling, "you are most amusing at times. Give
you the pictures? Don't be naive!"
Melanie's head reeled from the whiskey and the humiliation of sitting
here with this handsome but evil man while his feverish gaze absorbed every
inch of her body. Dear God, it was as if he were undressing her with his eyes!
She attempted one last desperate act in an effort to frighten him into giving
her the prints without further compromising herself. She glared back up at
him, her features as cold as she could make them.
"Amos, if you don't hand over those pictures to me at once, I'm going to
leave here and go directly to the police!"
"Go ahead, if that's what you want," Anderson shrugged nonchalantly and
added; "Go ahead, but it'll be the word of a respectable businessman against
that of a girl who poses for dirty pictures. Pictures that would soon be
published in a chain of nationwide men's magazines, and hawked in every skid
row bar from here to... to New York City!"
"No!" Melanie gasped, jumping to her feet. "You wouldn't!"
"No, not if we can come to some kind of, ah, arrangement, my dear. After
all, we are both adults, are we not?"
"Blackmail!" the horrified young wife hissed. "You're nothing but a lewd
blackmailer!"
"It's not very polite to call me names, Melanie," Anderson replied with a
mockingly sorrowful expression. "After all, you are Mrs. Cartwright, aren't
you? You are the one who's married to Timothy Cartwright, but who let me and
my wife both fuck you silly last Wednesday night, aren't you? I mean, you are
Mrs. Cartwright the adulteress?" He laughed in a throaty delight at his
rhetorical questions. "Of course you are. Now, do you want to go or stay
awhile?"
A ghostly tremor rippled over the terrified woman as she stared with
disbelief at her debasing tormentor. Her throat and lungs constricted tightly,
and she knew deep in her heart that it was useless trying to plead to a decency
he didn't possess.
"Well, my dear?" Anderson urged maliciously.
"I'll... I'll stay," she managed to say in a strangled voice.
"That's better, my dear. Besides, I'm doing you a favor. I could make a
great deal of money with those pictures, you know, but I'm allowing you to bid
for them first. I think that's rather noble of me, don't you?"
"How... how much do you want?" she stammered, clutching the arms of the
chair behind her with claw-like fingers. "I don't have much, but... But I'll
pay what I can..."
"Not money. Oh, my dear, never money. I want you, all of that lovely
firm body of your's!"
"Oh God," Melanie moaned and slumped back into the chair again, her whole
body sprawling with defeat, her dress hiking inadvertently up over her slim
round thighs. "I... I can't, Amos. I... I've never been unfaithful to my
husband, except that once, and... and I just can't again!"
"Yes, you will," Anderson replied, his voice growing stern and harsh with
command. "You will or else I'll ruin you!"
Melanie sat in a state of shock, bitterly realizing that this horrible
man would do exactly as he threatened if she did not give in. Every degenerate
across the nation would have the pictures of her engaged in unnatural acts of
love. It would kill Tim, and she would be humiliated no matter where she tried
to run and hide.
"If... If I agree," she said dully, "I want the pictures first."
"Heavens, no, my dear," Anderson said. He licked his thick lips, knowing
she had mentally surrendered herself to the inevitable. "No, you'll get them
afterwards. They're my insurance, you see."
"How... How do I know you'll give them if I do?"
"Oh, you can trust me." he answered, coming closer to the chair. "But
this has taken all too much time, my dear. The others are impatiently
waiting."
"Wh-What?" Melanie whispered in a choked voice. "What do you mean,
others? Another man?"
"Why, of course. We're going through that little door over there as soon
as I've undressed you, and down into my private cellar where everybody is
waiting to see what you can do for me."
"But I thought..." the stunned young wife whimpered. "But I thought I
was just going to have to please you!"
"Ah, but it will please me this way, my dear."
"Oh, no," she moaned, revulsion mushrooming inside her disbelieving mind.
"Please don't make me do that. I can't, knowing others are watching. That I
can't do! I won't!"
"Well, we'll see about that when the time comes." Anderson reached down
and lifted her dress, beginning to pull it up over her full thighs. "First
we'll just take your clothes off and then a little bit of make-up... to make
you even prettier, and then"
Melanie had lain motionless in a momentary shock from the horrible
threats he had been making, but this last one to perform in some cellar with
other men all aroundwas simply too much for her mind to accept! As he reached
to move her dress up higher, she reacted to his touch with a hysterical
repulsion, and without fully realizing what she was doing, she lifted one leg
back and abruptly kicked out in terror, catching Anderson full on the chin. He
was caught by surprise, and let out a growling yell as he tumbled backwards
onto the carpeted floor. He slowly regained his feet, shaking his head to
clear it, a slight trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.
"You shouldn't have done that, my dear," he said in a low, coldly
composed fury. "No, you shouldn't have done that at all..."
Melanie shrunk back in the chair, her heart leaping into her throat. She
saw his eyes flicker with a cruel hatred, and she knew that any compassion he
may have held for her before had been totally destroyed. Deep fear gripped her
belly as she watched him bring his hand slowly to his mouth and wipe the blood
away. His gaze glanced to the smeared streak on the back of his hand and then
quickly back to her.
He slowly untied the satin sash of his velvet smoking jacket, exposing
his bare, muscular chest beneath, and without a word withdrew a long leather
belt from his pants. Melanie huddled in frozen terror, her eyes staring in
wide-eyed horror as he raised his arm and cracked the belt through the air, the
tip biting through the cloth of her dress and brassiere to snap at her left
breast with a sudden excruciating pain. She cried out in agony, and fell
limply to the floor in front of him, hands clutching his pants legs in a
beseeching manner.
"No! I'm sorry! Oh God, Amos, I'm sorry!"
The belt sang through the air again, this time catching her full across
her back and as far down as her buttocks. She screamed again, this time deeper
as the cruel leather cut its way into the bare flesh of her legs, leaving a
tiny red welt rising on her skin behind its cruel path.
"Aggg! Aggg! No! No more, please! I'll do it! I'll do whatever you
want! I'll do anything!" she blurted out after several more lashes of the
sickening torture. The pain was unbearable and she knew if he hit her enough
she would faint dead away. Her mind was beyond logical thought, the only thing
mattering to her was to escape his horrible punishment.
"Say fuck, shit, cunt!" the evil movie house owner harshly demanded. By
God, he would break this proud girl's spirit yet!
"Ohhhhh, fuck, shit, cunt!" the words spurt from her mouth without
hesitation, no thought of resistance left.
"Again!"
"Fuck! Shit! Cunt!" she shrieked.
Amos Anderson held the belt threateningly over his head for a moment
longer, a lust-eager smirk dancing across his lips. Then he tossed the belt
aside and reached down for the young wife he had just savagely tortured.
Melanie closed her eyes tightly as she felt the humiliation of his hands moving
over her, stripping her clothing away. He didn't bother with buttons or snaps,
but ripped her thin summer dress from the neck down to the hem, peeling the
pieces away roughly and throwing them haphazardly to the floor. She clenched
her teeth together, fighting off waves of nausea as he drew her thin nylon
panties slowly down her rounded full buttocks and off her tapered legs. Her
brassiere came last as he took each cup in a hand and tore it away brutally,
her firm full breasts popping out like ripe succulent melons ready for harvest.
The tiny red nipples hardened involuntarily as they hit the warm air of the
living room, and stood up like dainty pink buds of a spring flower ready to
quiver into blossom.
Anderson stood back from her a few feet then, and turned to pick up a
cosmetics case nearby. This should be a most entertaining and profitable day
combined, he thought happily, as his gaze once more wandered over the
voluptuous young body sprawled naked and defenseless before him.
Melanie huddled docilely in the center of the carpet, her thoughts a
jumbled mass of humiliation and hopelessness. She knew she was at his mercy.
She could not fight against pain or even the threat of it, and she wished she
was dead this very minute to escape the degradation she knew was to be heaped
upon her naked body now. But there was no way out, only helpless submission to
a brutal man who was entirely without scruples or compassion. She had no idea
what to expect down in that cellar he'd spoken of, but her imagination ran wild
with fears. What could ever be enough for a man like him? Great tears of
self-pity swelled through her clenched eves and rolled silently down her
cheeks.
Suddenly she shuddered as she felt the long, manicured nails of
Anderson's smooth fingers caressing her face. She opened her eyes and saw he
was kneeling beside her with a large, hat box shaped cosmetic bag open before
him. Humming delightedly to himself, Amos began combing her long blonde hair
out into its full length beauty again, spraying it gently as he worked with
some kind of lacquer that made it shine more radiantly than ever.
"Don't be so frightened, my dear," he said in a calm voice. "You were
most accomplished with Sybil and myself last Wednesday night. It really won't
be much different. There are some marijuana cigarettes in the make-up bag
there, if you would like one. "No," she protested, shivering under his light,
sure, touch. "I won't ever smoke one of those horrid things again."
"That's up to you, my dear. I brought them over here in case you wanted
some help overcoming those silly inhibitions of your's."
Melanie sat in dejection as Anderson applied make-up to her in an effort
to erase the marks of her crying and beating until she was presentable again.
She looked at the thin brown cigarettes and pondering whether she should have
one or not to relieve her horror and fear. She was deathly afraid that she
would suddenly be gripped with revulsion and not be able to go through with it.
Once it had resulted in a belt whipping... the next time it should happen, she
was afraid it might destroy her chances forever of getting those pictures back
from Anderson, and with that all her hopes for a decent life again with Tim.
The nakedly trembling young wife reached forward slowly and picked one
out of the cosmetic bag and lit it. She took a deep, deep drag, feeling the
familiar pungent sweetness within her lungs, and then quickly inhaled again. As
she smoked, she sat before the mirror that was in the uplifted lid of the
cosmetics case; and with each pull from the thin, burning cigarette, she
gradually felt a calmness relax some of her tense, frayed nerves.
She watched with detached interest as Anderson worked on her face and
hair, studying in the reflection of the mirror the motion of his fingers across
her skin and the quivering curves of her naked flesh. She was more beautiful
than she had really noticed before, and she moved slightly so she could examine
all of her in the mirror. Her breasts were creamy white and firm as a
teenager's, and she could see, as well as feel, her nipples tingling into taut
erection, protruding from her swelling round globes into the open air. She
drew further from the soporific cigarette, holding the smoke longlonguntil her
lungs would almost burst from the delicious pressure being exerted upon them.
The mirror began to haze her image... Amos' fingers were feeling like little
spider's legs on her flesh... she could feel within herself anything she
concentrated upon... the insidious marijuana again began to take its toll upon
the logic of her mind...
"There now," Anderson eventually said, standing up to admire his
handiwork. "You're all set for your debut. Come, my dear," he said, lifting
Melanie to her feet with his hand, "Come and see where I will make you
famous..."
He led her as he would a timid child across the living room to a door at
the opposite end. With every step of her bare feet, Melanie felt more naked
and defenseless than ever, and with it, a gripping return of her initial shame
and terror. But the marijuana had braced her a little, and she now felt
prepared to go through with it in spite of her revulsion toward the depraved,
handsome man who had her at her mercy. She had created this horrible situation
by her moment of weakness, and there was no one to get her out of it except
herself. She just hoped to get it over with as quickly as possible and get
away with those damning pictures. Then, perhaps, she could piece together a
semblance of a normal life again.
"Ah, my dear, I can see you're looking forward to it after all."
"Don't call me 'my dear,'" she said thickly as he opened the door. "I've
agreed to your terms because I have no other choice, but I won't give you my
soul. You can't make me want you, no matter what you do."
"Are you certain, my dear?"
"Yes, I'm certain!"
Anderson laughed with cruel, taunting maliciousness, and then holding her
by her arm, he guided her down the wide, broad steps to the cellar below...
HelpWife.txt -- 6/7
A Helpful Wife
Chapter 6
Even the soothing effect of the marijuana cigarette she'd smoked upstairs
wasn't enough to prepare Melanie for the shock she received when she entered
the cellar. It was quite large and quite dark, except for a brilliantly
spotlighted circle in the exact middle of the room. She was reminded of a
stage or movie set, or the middle ring of a sex circus, with the audience seats
around it cloaked in darkness. There was a thick white carpet on the floor
that felt nice to Melanie's bare feet as Anderson led her out onto it. Before
her was the largest round bed she had ever seen, also covered with the same
white fur. Where the headboard curved around one quarter of the bed, large
sections of mirrors rose in an arc, high up and then over like a reflective
canopy so that whoever was on the bed could watch every little detail that was
happening.
Melanie wriggled her toes in the fur, nervously shading her eyes with one
hand against the harsh light burning down on her. She peered all around her,
but most everything beyond the ring of lamps was a dim, unrecognizable blur.
She was able to make out Anderson's wife, Sybil, sitting on a low settee off to
one side. Melanie strained her eyes, and it seemed to her that Sybil was
absolutely naked, her breasts and thighs reflections of tanned flesh as she
moved to a more comfortable position. With her looked to be a naked man, but
Melanie couldn't be sure... but as she moved her face around to other points of
the dim room beyond her circle, she was sure that she could see more black
forms of men; some tall, some short, some sitting, some standing, but all of
them unclothed and naked.
"Go to the bed, my dear," Anderson commanded, and meekly Melanie left his
side and stumbled across the carpet to sit tipsily on the edge of the great
round bed. The marijuana was beginning to affect her a little more now, and
her muscles felt sluggish. Her feet dangled, almost touching the floor, and
through her drugged gaze. she could see in the mirrors above her, her own
figure lying below. She could feel the eyes of the countless naked males
around her feasting lewdly on the secret parts that had once belonged solely to
her husband, parts she had protected just for Tim and which now had become her
shame.
"Move back, my dear," she heard Anderson say in a now heavily breathing
tone. She peered in the direction of his voice and thought she saw him
standing beside some large box that was on stilts. "Go on," he snapped
harshly, "move to the center of the bed... Or else!"
Melanie shuddered at the threat of his or else, and crawled to the center
as demanded, tears streaming in tiny rivulets as the helplessness of her
position tormented her confused and shame-filled mind. She cowered there, her
arms trying to cover as much of her as she could, feeling her nakedness as a
great humiliating blanket. And now that blanket would be replaced by something
more evil: the greedy eyes of strange obscene men who did not know her name nor
even cared to know. She would be an openly exposed receptacle in which would
be spewed indecent sperm, and she had no other choice, having to submit to the
revolting violation of her body to protect her marriage and home. God, would
Amos please come to her and get it over with!
Amos Anderson chuckled lewdly as he moved behind the tripod legs of the
16 mm color movie camera and sighted its lens on the naked young wife. It was
time now... time to start Phase Three!
"Dinsdale!" he growled to one of the naked men standing nearby. "Take
that favorite little plaything of your's and start to work on her."
"Right boss!" A set of flashing white teeth sparkled momentarily. "She
looks to be a tender one, for sure!" He scampered across the rug and leaped
nakedly onto the bed, kneeling down beside Melanie's thighs. "Hello there," he
said casually. "My name is Arnold Dinsdale."
Melanie had been unable to see him because of the blinding glare of the
floodlamps, but now her eyes adjusted and she stared in horror at the roughly
handsome face of this strange man. His features were sharp and definite, a
straight nose, squarish cheekbones, and deep-set dark eyes protected by jet
black eyebrows.
"Wh-What are you doing?" she screamed when she belatedly realized what
had happened. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm not going to hurt you," Dinsdale grinned, pushing her naked body
down flat on the bed. "Relax and enjoy it."
As the full impact of what the unknown strange man was saying registered
in Melanie's mind, she realized now that she had been bartered away by an
incredibly vile degenerate. It wasn't only eyes of other men she was going to
have to suffer, it was going to be their obscene penises drubbing into her as
well! God! She saw it all now! If she could only run, if there was only
someplace she could hide! But there was none, and she still had her price to
pay...
Before her thoughts could go any further, she felt a light flicking over
the soles of her feet. Something the nude man was holding in one of his hands
was grazing torturously over the sensitive bottoms of her feet. She struggled
to sit up, but Dinsdale's thick muscular arm held her fast to the bed with his
other hand palm-flat against the soft white flesh of her convulsing belly. But
she had been able to see enough to know that he was grinning lewdly as he
kneeled over her defenseless body, a thick plastic shaft in the hand that was
tickling her feet. It was cream colored, about seven inches long and two
inches around, and it gave off a buzzing hum like a nest of mosquitoes.
"A dildo," Dinsdale explained as she looked back up at his face with a
questioning expression. "Like a man's cock, see, only it's artificial. And
this one's a vibrator as well!"
A dildo! Melanie jerked her feet, trying to escape the maddening
tickling of the artificial penis' vibrating tickle. It was no use. Dinsdale
continued the lascivious massaging slowly up her calves, pausing at the
sensitive inner thighs to rotate the blunt head in small titillating circles
against her nakedly sensitive flesh. The trapped young wife squirmed, held
captive against the bed with Dinsdale's pressuring hand against her belly,
inadvertently opening her loins in a crab-like stance that exposed the moist
pink slit of her vagina completely to his vibrating touch and the greedy eyes
of the naked viewers and the glinting lens of the movie camera.
"That's it!" Anderson yelled encouragingly. "More! More!"
Dinsdale giggled and thrust the tip of the tormenting dildo directly into
the involuntarily parted pubic hair, juggling the plastic vibrator lewdly in
the plainly visible lips of her tight little cunt.
"Ohhhh," she mewled, jerking wildly in her vain effort to escape the
taunting buzzing which was tingling all the way through her body. "D-Don't do
that! I... I can't stand it!"
Still the teasing dildo played at the tender flesh of her vagina, working
its way up the full length of the wetly palpitating crevice to her tiny
throbbing clitoris and flicking it maddeningly until, with a sudden groan,
Melanie felt her loins begin a gentle involuntary rising and falling. She
could hear along with the other viewers Sybil laughing from her settee at the
edge of the carpetthe young wife's desperate pleadings causing all of the
audience to urge the actor to manipulate the vibrating fake cock faster and
faster.
Arnold Dinsdale worked it slowly up over the mound of her genitals and
across the flat white plane of her belly, around his still pressing hand that
was holding her down and then up the sides of her ribs. She felt the plastic
vibrator crawl up over her full ripe breasts and begin to gently caress the
nipples, and in spite of her revulsion toward this indecent torture of her
flesh, her feeling was slowly changing. Against her will, her proud firm
breasts were throbbing into round hardness, and the peaks tweaked up hungrily
as the torturing dildo made small delicious circles around the pink-hued
aureoles.
As the vibrator began its slow downward journey again, she found to her
fascinated horror her body reaching involuntarily upward to absorb its warm
caresses. It dwelled long on the whiteness of her belly and in the flexing
hollows of her inner thighs, again causing a slow uncontrollable undulation of
her rebellious hips and causing her again to draw her thighs back up into a
crab-like position. The wide crevice between her firm buttocks was once more
splayed open to the leering, lust-crazed eyes of her surrounding watchers and,
still unknown to her, to the uncaring eye of the movie camera as well.
Without warning, Dinsdale flicked the blunt tip quickly against the
sensitive moist flesh of her cuntal hole, clearly exposing the unwantedly
swelling lips between the blonde fringe of her pubic hair. The tight, elastic
orifice of her pussy jerked in surprise and tried to screw itself down into the
mattress to escape the cruelly delightful probe.
"Aggggggg!" she gasped between clenched teeth. "D-Don't! Please, please
don't! You're driving me crazy with that thing!"
A sadistic giggle answered her as she undulated against the teasing dildo
in her wetly clasping vagina. She tried to close her thighs against it, but
they would not seem to obey her mind's commands. Tears of frustration again
brimmed her eyes as she felt the control of her body gradually loosening. She
had vowed she would never allow it to betray her no matter how much temptation
it might be subjected to; but the sheer hopelessness of her position and the
vibrator in the hands of this master debaucher, violating all the sensitive,
defenseless parts of her naked body, were forcing her into helpless submission.
"Nooooo! Stop it! Stop it, please! You're killing me!"
"Would you rather be fucked by Dinsdale?" she heard the mocking voice of
Amos Anderson call from somewhere in darkness.
"No! No!" she groaned piteously.
"Tell me," the taunting, handsome face of the actor coaxed, sending more
forceful, spasmodic throbs through the plastic cock embedded slightly in her
rapidly awakening vaginal passage.
"I won't... I can't! Please!" Melanie's resistance ebbed with the
exquisitely maddening pleasure being lavished on her helpless naked being. But
she couldn't bring herself to suffer this further indignation, knowing that
this would be the point of her surrender. The thought of begging a man she had
never seen before to drive his hardened penis into her was unbelievingly
repugnant to her.
"Just say it," Dinsdale hissed. "Just say it and I stop my machine." To
add impetus, he turned the torturing instrument on higher.
"No, no," she moaned, lolling her head as far as she could from side to
side in almost unconscious hysteria. "I won't... I can't... Oh, please don't
make me, whoever you are!"
"Dinsdale's the name. But you like this, don't you?" He throbbed the
fake penis viciously, and began making little strokes in and out of her
frantically groveling cunt. "It feels good to you, right?"
"Ohhhhh, yesssss, it doesssss," she hissed through tightly clenched
teeth.
"Do you want me to stop, though?"
"I... Yes! Oh, please, stop!"
"Say it, then," Dinsdale commanded as cruelly as Anderson would have
done. "Say what you, want!"
"Ohhhhh," the helpless young wife moaned, all resistance fading away as
the lewd sensations from his vibrating dildo slowly changed her body to a mass
of nerve-tingling excitement. "Give... Give it to me, then! Give it to me!"
"Not like that, my dear!" Anderson yelled at the tormented girl. "Say it
with the right words to Dinsdale! Go on, say it!" And then he added the
ultimate cruelty as she sobbed in humiliated recollection. "Beg Dinsdale the
way you begged me last Wednesday!"
Dinsdale had increased the tingling probings until Melanie had no
resistance left. A fiery hot ball of desire had become all-consuming in the
pit of her loins. She fought against it with all her strength but the indecent
plastic penis pursued and tantalized her wet young cunt relentlessly. The
thick, vibrating cock buzzed on, not going any deeper inside her, but firing
the moist warm flesh of her vaginal lips until she thought her belly would
burst from the tickling pleasure tingling through it.
"Oh God," she heard herself shriek, the sweet agony in her body driving
her to a frenzy. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Go fuck me now!"
"Have her ride you!" Amos Anderson directed from behind the camera. "Get
down, Dinsdale, and have her ride that cock of your's!"
Melanie groaned from this further indignity. Her heart sunk as she
realized that in such a lewd position, it would be she who was mostly on
display, with her naked buttocks waving high up in the air off Dinsdale's
plundering hardness, rather than him over her with his covering body. She
watched as the handsome man beside her threw the dildo to one side and rolled
over on the thick furry coverlet, clutching her with steel-hard fingers so that
she was roughly pulled to him.
"Do as he says, sweetie," Dinsdale hissed up into her face. "Climb over
me and straddle my thighs like the good girl you are!"
Melanie hesitantly complied, knowing that she had reached the point of no
return. Her whole body cringing with the horror of what she must do for her
survival, she levered up on her arms, her long blonde hair flowing down her
face and sweeping the strange man's chest, her breasts swaying sensuously with
their erect little nipples almost touching his warm, tanned skin. She kneeled,
straddling with her own thighs splayed wide on either side of Dinsdale's lean
hips, and could sense his hardened penis pointing directly up at her hotly
throbbing vaginal slit. She thought of what was to follow, and tears of shame
and submission flowed down the delicate swell of her cheeks, ruining the light
make-up Anderson had so carefully applied.
He arched his buttocks up off the bed, and Melanie suddenly quivered in
renewed fear as she felt the hugeness of his heatedly thick cock press into the
crevice between her upturned thighs. She involuntarily cringed forward, drawing
away from the blunt rubbery hardness pressing upwards into her loins, but it
relentlessly followed. Her forehead was pressed tightly in the cleft between
the man's neck and shoulder, her face downwards against the mattress, and she
could feel the pungent smell of Dinsdale's perspiration. She felt his hands
close around the tops of her buttocks, gripping them tightly, his fingers
pressing downwards in her soft white flesh. He was going to impale her in
front of everybody. Oh God, he was going to split her!
"Reach behind you, my dear!" Anderson commanded breathlessly. "Put his
cock inside your cunt!"
"Oh, I can't, I can't!" Melanie whimpered.
"Put it in, I tell you," the devilish blackmailer yelled at her, and she
felt Dinsdale dig his fingers deeper into her buttocks with his own display of
urgency.
"Ohhhh," Melanie groaned as she felt her sensitive flesh being squeezed
into painfully tight balls. She couldn't stand it! Trembling in despair, the
naked young wife reached back between her legs and wrapped her fingers around
the hot, hard shaft of this stranger's penis. She tearfully placed the blunt,
pulsing head against the tight elastic opening of her vagina, biting down hard
on her lower lips to hold back the tears of humiliation and fright that were
brimming her eyes. She felt his long hardness begin a slow probing upwards
against her already moistened vaginal lips, forcing its way inside the tight
restricting ring of hot flesh that jealously guarded the entrance to her young
cunt. There was a great stretching feeling in her loins as though the tender
lips of her vagina were being pulled apart, and then suddenly she felt as if
they were being ripped as Dinsdale's long thick cock slithered into her hotly
cringing pussy like the trunk of a tree. The heavy muscles of his loins
crashed hard up against her cruelly splayed inner thighs, pushing her face
brutally against the bed.
"Agggg!" she strangled through clenched teeth. Her vaginal walls were on
fire, his great penetrating penis feeling like a huge drill tunneling deep up
into her belly. Melanie struggled and rotated her buttocks in vain to
alleviate the cruel impalement, but Dinsdale had skewered into her up to the
hilt, and she was a hopeless prisoner before all the lewd, breathlessly viewing
people grouped around the bed.
He began to pump long, even strokings into her, only stopping at the apex
where his pulsing hard cock throbbed menacingly against the tender cervix of
her womb. Melanie's mouth opened and closed fishlike in torment and sensation
as gradually she became accustomed to the massively thick shaft embedded in her
tight young vagina. She could feel the rigid, tendon-like corrugations of his
cock brushing against her overly sensitive clitoris. A strange masochistic
pleasure had begun tippling through her. Even the pain was weirdly enjoyable,
and she waved her buttocks skyward, undulating as much as the thick restricting
shaft of Dinsdale's cock would allow. The sight she made in the mirrors
incited her even more as she raised her head to look around. This was total
subjugation, being forced to kneel helplessly around a naked stranger this way,
her arms supporting her torso off the stage-like bed, her breasts jiggling
crazily underneath from the obscene public fucking she was getting. In the
mirror she could see his wetly glistening penis sliding in and out of her
clasping pink vagina which was puckering and unpuckering around his long
length. God, what a picture it made in her! The lewd portrait of her utter
surrender made her squirm down on the heated shaft as if to punish herself some
more.
Dear God, Melanie thought through her painful haze of humiliation. What's
happening to me? What's happening to me? I can't help it... I can't help
it...
She groaned out her shameful submission to the fiery sensations flicking
through her unwillingly ravished body. Her toes curled tightly against the
softness of the bedspread as she was bucked up and down, fucked like the
helpless slave she was by the great, driving cock up inside her warmly
quivering cunt. Dinsdale pressed his fingers into the firm flesh of her
buttocks and spread their bouncing cheeks farther apart, opening them obscenely
and teasing the puckered little hole of her anus with his outstretched middle
finger.
"Ahhhhhh," Melanie moaned in drugged delight. She was being treated more
like a whore than she had been before, and the strange masochistic pleasure
which had gripped her last Wednesday night spiraled through her shamelessly
aroused young body once again. She wanted to be completely destroyed by it
this time; she wanted to be fucked until she could never walk again! The lewd
subjugation of her helpless, kneeling form was driving her wild with
lust-inciting sensations!
"Ohhhhh, fuck me! Fuck me good!" she chanted through her contorted lips,
sweat dripping from her straining flanks, the rhythm of her buttocks and the
skewering of her vagina bringing unmentionable delight to her senses.
Sybil Anderson watched this lewd humiliation of the naked young wife with
mixed emotions. She felt a slight twinge of pity coursing through her for the
helpless innocent girl who was being subjected to such a thing after such a
short period of marriage. She could see her lying there on the bed with her
legs wide apart probably feeling more naked and ashamed than she had ever felt
before in her life. And yet, the sordid scene was exciting her! God, how it
was exciting her, and Sybil could feel the pit of her belly and thighs hot and
moist from the obscene spectacle her husband was so avidly filming to show
around the nation. The naked young man next to her, whose name was Jack
Armstrong, reached forward and ran his middle finger up the tight crevice of
her hotly moistened cunt, parting the soft vaginal hairs and feeling the
smooth, pink flesh jerk against his sudden contact. He leaned against Sybil's
ear and whispered:
"Get down on the floor like she is. I'll fuck you from behind so we can
watch at the same time. Your husband won't mind."
"He never does," Sybil answered excitedly, slipping off the couch and
sprawling on all-fours on the dim lit floor. Then she felt the heat of Jack's
long hard cock brushing against the wetly pulsing lips of her vagina, and she
reached back under her body and guided his rigid shaft between the tender lips
of her cuntal slit. Jack pressured forward slowly and with one easy stroke
slid his massively erect cock all the way inside her eagerly heaving belly.
Amos' naked wife moaned as she felt the cock-head bury as far into her hungry
little cunt as it would go. Her mouth dropped loosely open, and she began to
squirm back against him in dog fashion as she felt him begin to rotate it deep
up inside her. The head of his thick long prick scraped deliciously against the
far hidden walls of her womb in a sweet magical rhythm that brought swelling
moans from deep in her throat. She kept her passion-glazed eyes tightly glued
to Melanie's naked young body still held tight down upon Arnold Dinsdale's
pumping cock while she herself urged Jack to fuck into her hard and fast.
Amos Anderson grinned an obscene grin of victory from behind his movie
camera. A lewd sucking sound of intercourse was sounding through the darkened
room, and the moist slap of belly against belly joined it melodiously. He
licked his lips hungrily as he viewed the reddish skin of the young wife's
cruelly stretched vagina draw back with the prick of his naked actor friend,
clutching at it as if it didn't want it to cone out, and then disappearing
inside again with each upward lunge. He unbuttoned his pants and let them fall
around his ankles as he watched, fingering his own lust-stiffened penis with
one hand, the heat of his excitement rising like a tornado in his loins. Shit,
how he'd like to be there on the bed with that hot little blonde himself! Even
his wife was joining in! But he couldn't, not and take the pornographic movie
as well, and the way things were going, he would make a fortune out of this
one! But God, if he was in there on the bed, he'd show them all what fucking
should be like!
"Okay, Billy, you next," he said, waving his other hand at a young boy
waiting gape-mouthed to one side. "Go in there and have her suck you off. Go
on, boy, hurry!"
"Sure, Mr. Anderson! Anything you say! Who is she?"
"Melanie. Mrs. Melanie Cartwright, you little bastard." And he chuckled
lewdly as the naked young boy padded quickly out into the bedroom again. One,
now Two... and soon there would be Three!
Melanie felt a slight sag of additional weight upon the bed, and felt
warm, fresh skin settle down near her face. Her head flailed a moment longer
as she fought against the sensual pressure to keep her eyes tightly shut; soon,
however, her eyelids parted and opened a tiny slit. Dimly she saw a small
masculine form hovering near her mouth, and something else, something short and
firm jutting out from it and toward her lips...
A boy! A teenaged boy not more than fifteen years old! He was kneeling
there in front of her, holding her facial cheeks between his hands, his
immature penis standing in adolescent erection from his hairless loins! Nooo!
"Mrs. Cartwright?" Billy asked. "I'm supposed to have you suck my
pecker, Mrs. Cartwright."
God no! She couldn't do that! A man was terrible enough, but to corrupt
an innocent child was too much to ask! And yet... A flutter of salaciousness
rippled through her skewered belly as her lust-filled eyes filled themselves on
the virile young penis waving before her. It was not offensive, only five
inches long, its bulbous head a rich glistening crimson that gave its
white-skinned shaft the erotic appeal of an enticing delicacy. She was not even
repelled. The round firm scrotum was so tight and tender with the look of
textured velvet. So hairless, so fresh, so viriley boyish... God, what was she
thinking? She couldn't want him too! She couldn't!
"Suck my pecker, Mrs. Cartwright," Billy urgently said in his
high-pitched voice. "Please, before Mr. Anderson gets mad at us!"
She resisted for a moment, sickened by the sudden shame of her forbidden
desires. Now she was taking on little boys! Where would it end? Her strange
random thoughts were cut short as the naked youth rammed his short fleshy cock
through her wetly parted lips into the soft warmth of her mouth. She could
feel the spongy bluntness of his boyish penis sliding the length of her tongue,
lifting momentarily her concentration on the more mature penis ramming up from
behind into her wildly rejoicing vagina.
Gloating with youthful pride above her head, Billy began to undulate his
slender pelvis, sliding his virile young prick in and out of the young wife's
lips, never quite withdrawing, but leaving the hot, swollen tip of half an inch
inside the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. Melanie closed her eyes tightly to
block out the sordid sight of the teenager's sparse-haired genitals sawing into
her tightly ovalled lips. Oh God, there wasn't any use fighting it any longer,
not the slightest bit! She would do anything that salacious blackmailing
Anderson forced upon her, and learn to love it as he did. And ohhhhh, God,
this boy was such a tender, lovely child! Moisture filled her mouth, puffing
out her cheeks wide as the youngster shoved forward, burying his slender virile
penis deep in her throat, keeping pace with the man-sized cock fucking
ceaselessly into her widespread buttocks from behind.
Arnold Dinsdale looked up with lewd delight at the sweat-glistening body
of the helplessly trapped woman skewered between his cock in her cunt and the
teenager's penis in her mouth.
He timed his thrusts at her contorted face to match those of young Billy,
ramming upwards as he did, levering up on his toes and thrusting with all his
might to try and meet the smaller prick at the other end of her belly. He held
her warmly undulating buttocks tighter when he heard her cough and choke as the
boy's fleshy hardness rhythmically brushed her throat on the instroke, watching
her tender flushed lips above his face as they clasped tighter with a wild
hunger around the youthful invasion of her mouth.
Melanie felt a rising tide of lust beginning deep inside her dilated
loins. The very hopelessness of her kneeling position and the depraved
ravishment of her naked young body brought strange ripples of obscene fire
dancing through her shattered nerves. She licked and sucked the boyish
erection imbedded between her lips, her saliva thick from the fresh virile
secretions of his lubricating fluid. The taste was indescribable to her, and
the whole of her vaginal crevice felt wet and used beyond belief. Tears of
unconscious joy trickled from her eyes as she wallowed lewdly in the pleasure
of this dual subjugation to the little boy and the lean muscular man fucking
her at both ends.
"Now for Part Three!" she dimly heard Anderson yell triumphantly from
behind his movie camera. "Now she'll take three at the same time! You go and
fuck her in the ass!"
Melanie jerked her tightly clenched eyes open again at the horrible
implications of the movie maker's words. Her shocked gaze locked at the new
man, a Negro, who was stepping toward the bed, and she gasped in terror, trying
to squeeze her thighs tightly together around Dinsdale's cock, her mouth
moaning around the young boy's penis. It couldn't be true! That man would
split her open! Horrible visions of her ripped torn body flickered wildly
through her cringing mind. Amos couldn't mean it! He couldn't!
But it was too late for her now. A gigantic Negro crawled up on the bed.
His huge ebony penis reared out from his black muscular chest like a third leg,
for it was at least ten inches long and two inches wide. The crowd of other
naked men crowded closer, stepping onto the white, brightly lit rug and toward
the bed now to get a closer look at the unbelievable spectacle about to be
filmed before their eyes. Helpful hands from the sides of the large round bed
grasped harshly at Melanie's frantically quivering legs, pulling them brutally
apart so that her tightly puckered little anus was in full view of them and the
camera. Others strained closer around the bedside to get their look at the
pulsating treasure between the struggling young wife's buttocks. One
overanxious hand reached out to pinch quickly at a full white breast, digging
harshly at the dancing mound for a moment before disappearing anonymously back
into the crowd.
The giant black man climbed between her widespread legs and found a
position so he could move without disturbing his white friend fucking upwards
into her wet young cunt from below. Melanie's face contorted in anguish around
Billy's virile cock, every muscle in her body tensed against the inhuman
invasion she knew was sure to come. The full plane of her defenseless
backsides was presented up to the kneeling Negro in helpless sacrifice. It was
his, to plunder at will.
He grinned down at it, his lips bared back over the white ivory of his
teeth in unbridled lust. "I is Balshazar, and I is going to fuck yo' in de
ass, little white girl!"
He stroked his immense black penis with both his hands in greedy
preparation for the assault on the cringingly upturned buttocks swaying in
front of him. His body swayed on his knees like a stalking cobra, the
glistening ebony skin shining in the arc lights that surrounded the motion
picture set. He shuffled forward slowly, his pelvis and great bulging black
cock shoved out and quivering like a savage limbo dancer caught in the hypnotic
throes of a primeval jungle dance.
Her fully bared buttocks quivered uncontrollably as they tried to escape
that monstrous black penis that was going to rip her rectum apart. The
lust-incited crowd around the bed gasped as the great bulging head found the
tightly clenched anal opening and jostled for position against the pink rosette
of flesh, insinuating the merest fraction of its tip inside her anal hole. Then
with a flick of his hips, the grinning Negro forced the blood-filled cock-head
brutally into the pulsing muscle of her hairless little anus, stretching her
resisting rubbery flesh almost to the bursting point.
"Mmmmmmmmaaaaawwww!" Melanie moaned out wildly around the young boy's
still driving penis in her mouth. "Mmmmmmaaaggggg!"
It sunk another cruel inch, the struggling young wife trying desperately
to kick her legs free of both it and Dinsdale's cock to escape the punishing
impalement. The eager hands held them tightly to the mattress, though, and
Balshazar levered his hips and flicked again. His grin widened as his
relentless black cock slid in Melanie's white backsides another excruciating
inch.
"Mmmmuuunnnngggg!"
Another inch
"Mmmmaaaaaagggggghhhhh!"
Her sobbing, struggling protests and resistance only brought a sudden
crushing thrust from the naked black man that plowed his giant ebony cock
deeper into her tightly resisting anus, pushing great waves of rectal flesh in
soft rolling waves before it. Melanie jerked convulsively forward, only to ram
more of young Billy's penis into her mouth as Balshazar's hardness raced all
the way up inside her belly like a runaway freight train. It was an
uncontrolled monster crawling around inside her, filling her every crevice and
pushing her internal organs into tiny balls of agony that could not breath or
move. It was coming all the way up out her throat, shoving the smaller
youthful penis out of her mouth, ripping her soul from her body and devouring
it in great thrusts of depraved sensuality.
The Negro did not even wait a moment to allow the helplessly impaled
young girl beneath him time to adjust to his huge pulsating member buried deep
up in her soft white belly. He began a painfully quick fucking motion in and
out of Melanie's impossibly stretched anus, thrusting forward mercilessly from
the apex of his withdrawal and battering her pain-wracked rectum hard against
his savage loins. Dinsdale's penis embedded in her cunt joined the slowly
pistoning cock in a rhythmic fucking duo, and then Billy caught the same
pumping tempo with his virile hardness sliding between her lips, and soon all
three of them began to buffet her between them like a sack of resilient foam
rubber.
At first the only thing that Melanie could manage to do was utter long
continuous whines that went on and on as they smacked into her defenselessly
naked body with harder and faster force. But slowly and inexorably the pain was
easing, and in its place a weird sensation of happiness tingled through her
naked writhing flesh. The outrageous defilement and subjugation brought
strange pleasures flooding through her blood stream, and her hips began to
unconsciously gyrate in an abandoned rhythm with the increasing speed of the
trio of cocks fucking into her.
A thousand helpful hands groped at her from the leering faces around the
bed. The pain receded more and more, and her whine of agony began to change to
low whimpers of passionate pleading. She began to want this to hurt her, to
want to be torn in half in front of everybody to want to be ripped into a
thousand pieces by the boy in front of her, the man on the bottom and the Negro
fucking her in the ass. They were filling her mouth, her cunt, her raw pink
rectum with their merciless cocks, and she wanted nothing more than to be
brutally punished for being the dirty whoring bitch she knew she had become.
She wanted every entrance of her naked body to be savagely raped until they all
shot off their hot white loads of cum inside her, and that was all there was in
her mindless world to wish for now. She was lost, lost! She could never be the
same again after this, and she no longer gave one Goddamn.
"Ohhhh yes, yes fuck me all you bastards!" she crooned around the boyish
cock ramming between her teeth. She squirmed her body around lewdly among the
myriad of hands and fingers that were crawling over her tingling flesh. She
opened her eyes and cocks were everywhere. The men around the bed had crawled
up on the mattress with them now, and were stroking their hardened penises over
her in time to the black and white pricks smacking into her. Long ones, short
ones, fat ones... she was a prisoner in a great cock heaven, and all the time
while three battering erections were fucking into her, trapping her between
them like an insect stuck to a mounting board.
She grunted into the thick stale air of the cellar room, gyrating her
nakedly upturned buttocks faster and faster as she tried to keep up with the
monstrous poles of flesh drubbing into her like tireless fucking machines. She
felt long fleshy objects dropped into her clenching hands on either side of the
mattress, and other hands press her fingers tightly around them. She knew they
were cocks and began a hard vicious stroking in time to the communal rhythm, as
she felt the shafts of male hardness pummeling into her throbbing body
openings.
Sybil Anderson slid forward desperately, dislodging Jack Armstrong's
still driving penis in her cunt, and turning back to the man, she hissed: "I've
got to have it the way she is! Quick! Put it in my ass!"
Jack placed his cock against her pulsing anal opened and thrust forward
with all his strength. "Aggggggg!" Sybil groaned, fighting to keep the sudden
tears of pain from flowing from her eyes. She hadn't known it would hurt as
much as this! But she didn't have time to further object as the man behind her
plunged forward greedily and fucked her in the rectum herd and fast, until
gradually the pain eased away, and it didn't hurt Amos Anderson's wife any
longer. And just as they heard the first howling signs that the foursome on
the bed were cumming, Jack ejaculated deeply up inside her anal channel,
pumping his hot white sperm far up into her belly. Sybil's own fantastic
orgasm spiraled up until she thought she would go completely out of her mind,
and then the two of them collapsed in a spent and satiated heap beside the
flood-lit carpet leading to the great round bed. As they rolled apart, Sybil
caught the full depraving sight of all three males and the naked bucking wife
between them reach their final crest of climax...
"Mannnnnn, I'm there!" Billy squeaked in his immature voice. He locked
his hands around the back of Mrs. Cartwright's bobbing head and drew her soft
warm mouth deep down upon his rigid young cock. Lying between his slender
loins, all that Arnold Dinsdale could see of the boyish prick was a small bit
at the base which protruded wet and gleaming from the blonde woman's wildly
sucking lips. He watched in delighted awe as her throat contracted and filled
as she swallowed deliriously all of the young fresh sperm pulsating into her
mouth. God, Dinsdale thought, a grown man could not have more cum than was in
the balls of that boy, and then he, too, felt himself explode...
He clenched his eyes shut as his wildly jerking cock gushed inside her
tightly clenching cunt, feeling his testicles erupt with thick white semen. His
hot seed spurted like water through a firehose far up into Melanie's hungrily
milking vagina. She whimpered as she felt it splash the eager walls of her
cunt, and tried to jerk herself downward to suck more of it from the head of
his spewing shaft.
Balshazar's eyes rolled around in his head and his great balls began to
surge his own streaming semen deep into her constricting belly. Melanie ground
her buttocks back upwards tightly against his pelvis to staunch the flow for a
moment until she reached her peak, but her very eagerness only incited him
more. The nibbling clasp of her anal muscles squeezed his mammoth penis clean,
the last drop of his molten load spasming out deep up inside her rectum.
Melanie's hips jerked as she felt the tidal waves of cum inside her, and
her own orgasm hit her like a fist in the stomach. Searing joy coursed through
her fantastically aroused body with the power of a thousand lightning bolts,
curling the tips of her toes and fingers like burning twigs on a bonfire. Her
hands were flooded too with the hot sticky liquid of spitting cocks, and great
pools of cum clung in rivulets to her naked white skin as she saw other cocks
spurting at her naked body from all sides. She wallowed lewdly in it, punishing
and debasing herself in maniacal excitement, the odor rushing through her
nostrils as her own climactic fluids gushed hotly from between her legs and
trickled down around Arnold Dinsdale's deflating cock to the bed below.
The three spent males fell useless and drained from her still squirming
form, and then she was rolled over on her back, other naked bodies taking their
places, spurred on by her screaming supplications for further humiliation. Her
hair was matted thickly with the pungent creamy semen, and her young body was
covered with its whiteness from head to foot. She squirmed wetly on her back
in it as she was buffeted up and down on the mattress by one rampaging man
after another. It seemed she would never get enough...
Amos Anderson grinned lewdly to himself. What a film! He couldn't stop
the camera now, not while that blonde haired bitch was screaming to get fucked
to death. This would be a color epic to end all pornographic films! Jesus,
what could he call it? What could be a title strong enough to match the action?
He thought for a moment, his eyes still lustily glued to the non-stop fucking
on the bed. At last it came to him. He'd call this film GANG-BANG UNLIMITED.
Yeah, that was perfect! GANG-BANG UNLIMITED!
"Oh God," Melanie groaned as they battered her back and forth like a rag
doll between them, using her helpless body as a great pool into which to pump
their burning sperm. How many men could she take? As many as could climb on
her, she supposed. She was no longer human but a great mass of sensitive
flesh, unable to think but only to feel. Time became meaningless to her, a
merging of a countless number of strange and different long hard cocks, fucking
her as they would and where they could. Melanie was beyond caring, though her
body reacted with orgasm after orgasm until her strength was gone, and she
could only follow mechanically.
"Get those legs up!" she'd hear Anderson yelling hoarsely at her from
miles away. "Move that ass! Suck harder!"
She was nothing now but a flesh robot at his command, and weakly moved
her limbs to comply with his shouts as best she could. Many long hours later
she lay spread-eagled on the wet and soiled mattress that would be forever her
bed of shame. The Anderson voice was still speaking in the distance as she
faded to deep peaceful unconsciousness.
"Take a turn on her, somebody. She's not dead yet. I need some film
with some imagination! See what all of you can do!"
HelpWife.txt -- 7/7
A Helpful Wife
Chapter 7
Carlyle came over to where Tim Cartwright was sitting at a desk. Carlyle
was a fat, balding man in his mid fifties, and was chewing on the stub of an
unlit cigar as usual. He was Tim's immediate superior as long as Tim was at
the New York head office, so Tim immediately put his pen down and looked up
with an eager expression on his face.
"Yes, sir?"
"How's it going, boy?"
"Fine. I'll have these figures out by tonight."
"Good, good." Carlyle spread his suit jacket open and thrust his thumbs
into the armholes of his plaid vest. "You're doing a fine job for a trainee,
Tim. A damned fine job."
"Thank you, sir."
"You'll go far with Flynn, I don't mind predicting. But you'll have to
learn more about entertaining customers, first."
"I... will?"
"Sure. That's half the job, showing the right guys a good time. Why,
you've been cooped up in that musty hotel room of your's for weeks like you
were a monk or something. Hell, you're in New York, and that's the finest city
in the world for action."
"I know, sir, but there's all the work. And my wife"
"Hang your wife, Tim, and pardon my bluntness. I'm sure she's a darling
sweet kid from all you've told me about her. But you're here and she's there,
and the one don't have to know about the other."
"But"
"No buts. Tonight you're coming to a little party of mine. You'll be
assistant host, and I'll expect you to be on your toes. We're getting some
girls to come upexpense account quiff for the fellows from Rudiger's Plumbing
and Heating, because that's the kind of thing they call a good time, you see.
Gotta look out for what your customers like as well as need, you know, boy. But
there'll be one for you, too, don't worry. A tight-assed little redhead named
Delores. You'll like Delores; she meets all the boats."
"I don't really think"
"Oh, and you'll be in charge of the projector."
"The... projector, sir?"
"Right. We've gotten in a real hot movie from the Coast. Had it smuggled
in special for the home office library. Cost a mint, but it should be worth
it. I understand this is the wildest fuck flick to come along since Edison
photographed his wife in the bathtub."
Tim Cartwright swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling parched as though
blocked with sand. Girls... and a sex movie! He felt a stirring in his loins
that he hadn't felt since he'd left Melanie back in California weeks ago. "That
does sound good at that!"
"Seven o'clock at my place. See you be there on time... Oh, and pick up
the canister of film from Baynard on your way out tonight, will you?"
"Sure. What's its title?"
"GANG-BANG UNLIMITED! Yeah, that's it. GANG-BANG UNLIMITED. Has one
girl and a cast of thousands. Haw hew haw!" Carlyle walked away, still chewing
expansively on his dead cigar.
Tim picked up his pen again, his mind a turmoil. Christ, GANG-BANG
UNLIMITED! He could hardly wait to see what the girl in it was like!
The End
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