The momentum of her forehand miss left Sandra off balance a split second, just enough time for me to tackle the bitch as she was getting ready to let me have it with a backhand swing. She and I and the lamp went crashing into the wall, over tuning the small bedside table. We rolled to the floor. She scratched the shit out of my shoulder before I was able to subdue her with my strength, and for the second time pin her to the floor, my naked body pressing against her now naked body. From the bed, Megan cried.
I slapped Sandra’s face viciously and her body went limp under mine. “Okay, sweetheart,” I panted as I held her wrists to the floor. “Just for that, I’m going to fuck the living shit out of your little girl. She’s going to be a quivering, crying mass of shit when I’m done with her!”
“No!” she cried beneath my crushing weight. “No, no, please, I´m sorry!” She was sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for breath. “I’m so sorry!”
“We had a deal, bitch. It was either going to be you or the girl, and now it’s going to be the girl!”
“NO!” she shrieked. Slowly she regained some composure but was still unable to mouth more than monosyllables. “Please…take me…I’ll do…I’ll do whatever….I’m so sorry.”
My hands ravished her naked body as she now lay docilely beneath me. “You’re ‘sorry’, huh?” I sneered. “Show me, bitch! Show me how sorry you are.”
Her crying subsided as I guess a wave of acceptance flowed over her. With a numb expression on her face, she began to rub her thigh against my swollen penis. She looked me squarely in the eyes as she did this, her own eyes swollen from crying, her cheek glowing red from my hard slaps. I lowered my mouth to hers. She did not avoid my kiss. She didn’t exactly kiss me back, but she didn’t press her lips totally together, either. My lips caressed hers as she continued to rub my penis with her thigh.
“If you bite my tongue,” I whispered into her ear, “I will perform a double mastectomy on your daughter, do you fucking understand me? I have the knife in my bag.”
The woman nodded quickly in agreement as she continued to rub my throbbing cock with her thighs, and press it between her knees. Our eyes again locked for a moment, and then I lowered my mouth to hers. Her lips were parted for breathing purposes, and my tongue shot easily into her mouth and went exploring as I held her two wrists with one hand and used my other hand to massage her tits.
As I French kissed her, Sandra wiggled her wrists as an indication for me to release my grip there, and when I did, her hand trailed down my body until her fingers found my penis and encircled it.
I drew my face back and looked at her. The expression on my face informed her in no uncertain terms not to try any funny stuff with the family jewels. She merely stared back up at me as I hovered over her prone body, a blank, non-committable look on her face. The tears from her red, swollen eyes had diminished to a trickle. She began to masturbate me. Our eyes remained locked. “Just leave my daughter alone,” she said softly, her voice cracking. “Please. I’m begging you.”
The room became so quiet that the girl on the bed called out in a frightened voice: “Mother? W-w-what’s happening?! Are you okay?”
“Everything’s okay, baby,” Sandra said, not taking her eyes off mine as she slowly masturbated me. “Everything’s going to be okay.” With one of her hands continuing to stoke my cock, her other hand cupped my balls. As she did this, my own hands went around her neck and my eyes riveted on hers. She did not misinterpret the meaning of the fingers around her neck. One false move with the valuable cargo that she now held in her hands and she would be one very sorry woman indeed. She understood the situation quite well. With one hand she squeezed my balls only ever so slightly, while her other hand continued to masturbate my pulsating penis. “Everything is going to be okay,” she whispered to me as she worked. “Isn’t it.” This was not a question.
“That’s up to you, sweetheart” I said softly. “So far you’re doing a vey good job. You want to keep me happy. A blow job right now would keep me happy.”
Sandra looked at me devoid of any expression. Our eyes remained locked until she began to scoot her body downward. I took my weight off her to allow her to slide her naked body downward beneath mine. Her tongue licked a trail down my chest as I rolled onto my back on the carpet and spread my legs for her. She was holding my balls in one hand and my swollen cock in the other as her mouth neared my manhood. Her lips parted and she took my penis into her soft, warm, moist mouth.
“Remember the knife in my bag, Sandra. You want your daughter to keep her tits, don’t do anything foolish.”
My hands fisted her hair as she proceeded to suck my cock in what actually became a very fine blow job. She was a woman on a mission—the mission of saving her teenage daughter from being raped. I did not, however, allow myself the luxury of getting totally lost in the pleasure of what she was doing to me, because I obviously did not fully trust her. My forearm still smarted from her ferocious bite, and my shoulders bore ugly scratch marks from her nails. She might have tried ripping my cock off with her teeth at any moment, and I was prepared to smash her in the head if I felt the slightest aggressiveness with those teeth.
Instead, she was really being a good girl, taking my swollen dick in and out of her mouth in rhythmic motions that were stunningly erotic. I ran my fingers through her hair as her head bobbed up and down. These motions, combined with the knowledge that my cock was in the mouth of a woman believing that what she was doing was saving her daughter from rape, was a turn-on beyond all proportions. The daughter, meanwhile, tied to the bed and not able to see us but obviously hearing some slurping sounds coming from the floor beside the bed, would from time to time cry out to her mother, “Mom, are you okay? What’s he doing!?” To which each time her mother would reply, taking my cock out of her mouth just long enough to talk soothingly to her daughter. “Everything’s okay, baby. Don’t worry. I’m fine.” After each reassurance, the mother would open her warm, wet mouth and once again envelop the penis of her daughter’s would-be rapist, trying desperately to distract him from any notions he might entertain regarding her precious little girl.
After enjoying her blow job for awhile longer, I at last rolled Sandra onto her back and began fucking her mouth in downward motions. “Keep your teeth out of the way!” I hissed as my cock rammed the roof of her mouth and on several inward strokes reached half way down her throat. The girl on the bed now heard her mother gurgling and gagging loudly. “Mommy?” she cried. But now her mommy couldn’t respond because mommy was no longer in control of her mouth and that which invaded it. “Mommmmy!” The combination of hearing the teenager’s cries and feeling the warmth and wetness of her mother’s mouth surrounding my cock was bringing me to the point of orgasm. I thought briefly about ramming my cock deep down Sandra’s throat and exploding my cum halfway down her esophagus, but instead I suddenly withdrew completely. This woman’s body had other orifices that deserved my attention.
Gagging and gasping, Sandra took huge gulps of air once I pulled my penis from her mouth. Her breasts rose and fell, flattening against my chest on each inhalation. Her nose was running from so much crying that she really needed to have her mouth open to breath, and she definitely was concentrating more on getting air into her lungs than she was on the fact that I was now spreading her thighs apart and positioning the head of my swollen cock at the gate of her womanhood. When she felt the tip of my penis nose its way into the folds of her vagina, Sandra came back to life. “Please,” she cried weakly as she looked down her body to her widely spread legs and to my engorged penis. “Can you at least use a condom?”
I laughed out loud at that. “Sorry, Sandra. Damn if I didn’t remember to pack rubbers!”
A look of abject hatred flashed from Sandra’s eyes as she realized I was ready to slide my manhood into the folds of her fear-shrunken vagina and there was nothing she could do about it. Thankfully for her there was the abundant lubricant of her saliva on the thing. Her eyes shut tightly as she felt the tip of my cock push aside the outer lips of her femaleness. I paused for a couple seconds to relish the moment—that I was about to fuck that hot woman I spotted in the shopping mall just a few days ago—and then plunged fully into her. She gasped as I did so, and then, when I paused again, now with my cock buried deep within her, she began to weep.
¨What’s the matter, bitch?” I spoke into her ear, my voice cracking with lust as I felt the walls of her vagina clinging to my manhood. “Aren’t you on birth control?”
She did not respond. She merely wept softly. I took her chin between my fingers and pointed her face toward mine that hovered over her. “Answer me, bitch. Are you on birth control?”
“No!” she cried.
“Haven’t been getting laid much lately, huh,” I said, and with that began to fuck her hard. My cock pumped her, possessing every inch of her womanhood. She was mine! The elegant, sophisticated Sandra McFarland was being my bitch!
Her pussy was tight, contracted as it was with the fear that any woman feels when she is being raped. I felt this tightness gripping my cock. It made for a fantastic sensation that validated my suspicion that rape would be a lot more fun than sex with a willing partner!
I proceeded to fuck her slowly for I don’t know how long, pressing her body against the firm carpeted floor, riding that delicate balance between the edge of coming and holding back. Gradually, the force with which I fucked her increased. Before long I was giving her solid thrusts that rocked her body, causing her to emit soft grunts, similar to those noises that female tennis players make when hitting the ball. Occasionally her daughter would call out for her, but the woman could barely breathe beneath my onslaught, let alone continue to offer the reassuring words to the girl that she had been voicing since I had first dragged her to the floor.
Leave a Reply