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From: "Martina Lee" <susanasue@hotmail.com>
Subject: Caught in the Act (Part 2, 3/17 from Oh, Susana) FM, FM
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This is the third chapter of my book of short stories, collectively 
entitled "Oh, Susana". I am posting all 17 chapters, including reposts 
of the four chapters submitted previously. Please feel free to comment. 

WARNING: This is adult entertainment only, dealing with sex and sexual 
subjects in explicit language and detail. If you are under age for that 
kind of thing, leave now. This story, and others in the Oh, Susana 
series, may be reposted on ASSM, and redirected to ASS, but may not be 
put to commercial use by anyone but myself. I am willing to discuss them 
on ASSD or you can email me at <susanasue@hotmail.com>

Oh, Susana!
The erotic adventures of a South Seas sexpot
by Martina Lee



3. Caught in the Act (Part 2)

Neil climbed on to the bed, his cock swaying at attention, his eyes 
burning into hers. "Hold your legs," he said. Susana hooked her hands 
under her thighs and pulled them towards her chest. Her feet came up off 
the bed and swung apart. Neil shuffled closer. "Higher," he said. 
"Wider." She hesitated for a moment, then reached between her knees, 
grasped the soles of her feet and pulled until they, and her gaping 
cunt, were pointed straight at the ceiling. He loomed over her, and with 
some difficulty depressed his weapon to the horizontal and jammed the 
tip obliquely into her pussy. Then he placed both hands on the backs of 
her thighs, transferred most of his weight to them and forced them 
further apart, and plunged.
She gasped in pain as his cock slammed into her cervix. Then his full 
weight descended on her upturned thighs as he heaved himself up for the 
next thrust, and she gasped again. He had never before intentionally 
hurt her, but now he was positively brutal. Bent almost double, her legs 
spread to the limit and her knees pushed back almost into her armpits, 
she felt she was being ripped apart like a barbecued chicken. Every 
thrust, every withdrawal, was pure agony. "Don't," she sobbed as he 
crashed and pressed, crashed and pressed, his angry cock spearing deep 
into her vitals and his cruel hands pushing, pushing, forcing her legs 
further apart at every stroke. "Don't. Please. It hurts. Don't hurt. 
Stop. Don't hurt me. Please. Don't." He ignored her pleading. His face 
hung over hers, his features a contorted mixture of fury and lust. 
"Bitch," he grunted, driving home each word with another womb-crushing 
shove. "Fucking, lying, cheating, sneaking BITCH."
Gradually, the pain crossed the threshold from torment to rapture. She 
was still pleading with him, but the words were getting mixed up: "Don't 
. . . Stop . . . hurt . . . Please . . . Don't . . . Stop . . . Hurt . . 
. me . . . Fuck . . . me . . . Hurt me . . . Fuck me . . . fuck me . . . 
split me . . . fuck me . . . oh god . . . hurt me, fuck me, fuck me, 
harder, fuck me, split me, don't stop, hurtmehurtme . . . please me, 
hurt me . . . harder . . . harderharderharderfuckmeeeeee . . ." She 
grabbed his head, wrenched it down to hers and kissed him, sucking at 
his lips and tongue and whimpering into his open mouth as she climaxed.
When her convulsions subsided, Neil levered himself off her body and 
flopped face-up on the bed beside her. Cautiously, wincing as her joints 
and muscles returned to their natural alignments, Susana lowered her 
legs and rolled on to her side to look at him. Tears of pain and remorse 
trickled down her cheeks as she studied his face. His eyes were closed, 
his lips bruised and bleeding from the violence of her kisses, and his 
breath was coming in shuddering gasps. Susana raised up on her elbow, 
leaned over him and softly kissed his eyelids. "I'm sorry," she said. 
"I'm so sorry." Without opening his eyes, he reached up a hand and 
touched her cheek.
"Finish me off," he said quietly, and there was no more menace in his 
voice, only resignation. Susana was confused for a moment, then looked 
down his body and saw his cock, still erect and angling obliquely up 
over his belly, reddened from its recent abuse and marbled with whitish 
strings and patches of whipped sperm. She slid down the bed and licked 
him clean. Then she knelt between his calves, leaned forward and took 
him into her mouth.
Later, Neil would tell her it was the most incredible blowjob he had 
ever experienced. That was praise indeed. When it came to fellatio he 
was a connoisseur and she, by virtue of instinct and education, was an 
adept. This time, it was instinct uppermost. In spite of the violence he 
had just visited on her, she sensed that what he needed was absolute 
tenderness. She held him vertical with just the slightest pressure of 
her fingers about the base of his penis and mouthed him softly, her lips 
enclosing him just behind the glans and her tongue sliding voluptuously 
around the tip. Then she "walked" her lips slowly centimetre by 
centimetre down the shaft, stopping at each step to press lightly with 
lips and tongue, until her mouth was full of throbbing cock. Looking up 
from under her brows, she saw that Neil had raised his head to watch. He 
reached out a hand and placed it on top of her head, and his cock 
twitched in her mouth as he pressed her down another couple of 
centimetres.
He sighed audibly, dropped both his head and his hand back to the bed, 
and she compressed her lips and slowly, slowly, shaking her head 
slightly from side to side, her tongue flattened firmly against the 
underside of his cock, she worried her way back to the tip. Then she 
repeated the procedure. Slowly, softly, gently, inexorably, she brought 
him to the boil, refusing to hurry even when his breathing quickened and 
his hips began to heave beneath her.
When she sensed he was on the brink of orgasm, she placed the fingers of 
her free hand lightly on the base of his belly and massaged him with a 
quick, circular motion. It was a trick which she knew from long 
experience helped him to achieve release, and she was instantly 
rewarded. He came forever, his legs twitching, his chest heaving, his 
juice draining out of him in quick, hot spurts. There was an awful lot 
if it, but Susana trapped it all in her mouth and gulped it down, 
continued rubbing and sucking even after it was all gone and he begged 
her to stop. His dick softened, then shrank in on itself, and she kept 
working on it until it was no more than a tiny, trembling, exhausted 
mouse nestling nervously in his pubic hair. She gave him a final lick 
for good measure, then raised her head, stretched herself full-length 
atop his body, and kissed him wetly on the mouth.
His arms went round her and he nuzzled her throat, then rolled her off. 
She lay on her back beside him, waiting for the inevitable. He groped 
for her hand and twined their fingers together. Then the interrogation 
began:
"Who is he?" "Where did you meet him?" "When did you meet him?" "When 
did you start screwing him?" Simple questions, simply answered. He 
didn't ask whether Peter had seduced her — he knew her well enough to be 
sure that, if anything, it was she who had been the aggressor. He didn't 
ask whether Peter was a better lover, or had a bigger prick — if he had, 
she would have said no, just new and different. That was true — Neil 
peppered their sex life with fantasy, blowing her mind as easily and as 
frequently as she blew his cock, so that their lovemaking was a total 
brain and body experience; Peter, though sweet and intelligent, in bed 
was just a big, beautiful, male animal with no imagination. In a way, 
that was part of his attraction for her — it was a relief, for a change, 
not to have her mind fucked along with her body.
"Do you love him?" She didn't even have to think about it. "No. I love 
you. I just fuck him." She lifted their clasped hands to show him their 
interlocking fingers, alternating and seemingly inseparable layers of 
brown and white, a long-ago-discovered symbol of their union which she 
knew meant more to him even than their wedding bands.
"Give him up." Again, she didn't have to think. "No," she said. "I need 
him."
"Fuck off then. Go and live with him."
"No. I love you. I want to stay with you."
"Give him up."
"No."
"I'll kick his teeth in."
Susana giggled. The threat was absurd. "No you won't," she said. "You 
couldn't."
"I will. I'll kick his fucking teeth in."
She giggled again, rolled over and kissed him. "I need him," she said. 
"I truly do."
He sighed and gave in. "All right," he said. "All right, you can keep 
him." She squealed delightedly. "I do love you," she said, and kissed 
him again. He returned the kiss, then gently pushed her away. "I haven't 
finished," he said. "You can have him, but I won't put up with you 
sneaking around. If he's going to be your lover, that makes him part of 
the family. My brother-in-law? No. Closer than that. Co-husband, or 
something. Whatever. I want you here. If you want to fuck him, fuck him 
here. Just don't wear yourself out on him. I still want my share of 
you." He rolled towards her and slipped his hand between her legs. 
"Okay?" She kissed him again. "Yes sir," she said. "Yes yes yes yes yes. 
Sir."
Neil withdrew his fingers from her cunt and got up. "Come on, then," he 
said. "It's news time." He wrapped a laplap around his waist and stood 
waiting for her. Susana picked her knickers off the floor and stepped 
into them, thought about pulling on a dress and decided it wasn't 
necessary. Neil went ahead of her to the door, opened it, and together 
they walked out to tell Peter.
He was sitting dejectedly in the armchair in his underpants, apparently 
watching the TV. It wasn't even turned on. He looked towards the door as 
it opened, took in Susana's near-naked state, and looked quickly away. 
Susana crossed the floor in front of him and stood by the side of the 
chair. Neil walked to the dining table at the far end of the room and 
lit a cigarette. "She tells me she has to have you," he said to the back 
of Peter's head. "I've told her she can." Peter looked wonderingly at 
Susana and she reached out and ruffled his hair. "There are certain 
conditions," said Neil. "She can tell you about them." He sat down at 
the table and picked up the paper.
Susana slid her hand down Peter's chest and under the waistband of his 
underpants, and laid hold of his cock. "Come with me," she said. He got 
to his feet uncertainly, looked back over his shoulder at Neil. Susana 
tugged his tool. "Come on," she said. She shifted her grip, winked at 
Neil, and led her stumbling lover by the balls into the spare room. Once 
inside, she pushed him on to the bed, then turned back and closed the 
door. She stripped off her pants, then his, and sat on his legs, playing 
with his prick as she explained the new rules of the game. He was 
confused, and embarrassed, and it took him some time to catch on. But 
eventually he rose to the occasion, and she had her way with him.
Finally, after about an hour, she lifted herself free of his weary 
willy, wiped herself with her knickers and stepped naked and steaming 
back into the living room. Neil was still sitting at the table. She took 
his hand and led him into their bedroom.
Two days later, Peter moved out of his flat and into the spare room, and 
the game of musical beds was born . . .





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