I put my face close to hers as my cock went in and out of her. “Come on, Sandra,” I said softly into her ear. “Fuck me back, honey. Let me feel you fucking me back.”
Her eyes remained tightly shut. “Stop calling me by my name,” she protested wearily.
“OK, you fucking slut whore. Fuck me!”
Slowly, with palpable reluctance, she did begin to grind her body against mine, to meet my thrusts with upward parries of her own, increasing the depth of penetration of each inward plunge into her vagina. “Good girl,” I whispered into her ear. “That’s a good girl, sweetheart. Yeah….fuck me back…just like this.”
I became gradually aware of something. I could feel that, against her mental will, physically her body—precisely, that particular part of her body that lay between her legs and was being pounded by a male’s penis—was, in fact, responding to the sexual stimulation. I could feel—and could hear from the suction sounds that now emanated from our mutual genitals, that her pussy was self-lubricating. Certainly her saliva that had initially lubricated my cock had dissipated. This new wetness that I felt had to be pussy juice! The bitch was hating this but was stimulated by it at the same time. Fabulous!
Her eyes remained shut as we fucked. My hands were pinning her wrists to the floor on either side of her neck. “Tell me, sweetheart,” I said as I nibbled at her neck, smelling her essence. “You must be a horny little bitch, aren’t you? Divorced and all. When was the last time you got laid?” I waited for an answer as our bodies moved together in a horizontal love dance, but Sandra remained silent beneath me as she moved her hips in rhythm against mine. “I mean it, baby. Tell me when the last time was you had a fucking cock!?”.
“Fuck you,” she murmured. Her voice reeked of weary defeat.
I lifted my torso off hers. “I mean it, bitch. Tell me when the last time was that you got laid!” My cock went in and out of her as I said this. More tellingly, my hands encircled her neck once again.
Without opening her eyes, she said, “I haven’t….not since…I kicked my husband out…out of the house….” She said this while continuing to meet my thrusts with slow, twisting movements of her own pelvis.
”How long ago was that?”
Eyes closed, she responded: “Six months ago.”
“Why did you kick him out?”
“None of your fucking business!”
“Megan’s none of my business, either, right?”
She shuddered beneath me. “He was cheating on me, okay?”
“Cheating on you with who?”
“What does it fucking matter?!” The flow of her tears began anew as she sobbed beneath me.
Screw it. I began pumping her harder, turned on by this classy woman who, outmatched as she was physically, was therefore, as a protective mother, sacrificing her own body, using the only weapon at her disposal, her own sexual favors, in a desperate bid to sexually satiate a rapist and thereby keep him, she probably thought, from having the stamina to later assault her virgin teenage daughter. The thought of this was a huge turn on for me, and I felt my penis strong and large inside this heroic woman’s body.
I forced my arms between her spread thighs and, with my shoulders, pushed them upward until her legs were raised high into the air. If Megan was looking in our direction, her mother’s calves and wide spread feet, now dangling in the air, would have undoubtedly been visible to her.
Visions of Sandra flooded my memory as I fucked her: the vision of her waiting patiently for her daughter at the shopping mall. Of her high fiving other mothers at the volleyball match. Of her sashaying past me on her way to work in her office building. Of her sucking my cock only minutes before. Beneath me now on the floor, she shed the tears of a ravished, taken woman. I knew that had it not been for my ability to blackmail this woman with the threat of raping her daughter, she would have fought me to the very end, and our encounter could have turned into a much uglier one for her.
After awhile I put my weight on my elbows and knees, taking my weight off her. Her legs fell, and her heels planted on the small of my back. I stopped moving, letting her now do the work. Beneath me, my victim continued to slowly bump and grind. I stared down at her in fascination, feeling my cock go in and out of her pussy as she moved beneath me. What she lacked in true passion she made up for with the fierce determination of protecting her little girl. It was a heart rendering performance—for anyone who had a heart. For me, it was a cock hardening performance.
It was also a testicle draining performance. I could feel that I was on the verge of orgasm. It seemed that Sandra could sense it. She increased the vigor of the bumps and grinds of her pubic region against mine, wanting to make me come, wanting me to finish—finish so that I would achieve what I came for and get the hell out of her house!
For that reason, at that moment I abruptly pulled out of her. I got up, kneeling between her spread legs that had now fallen limply to the floor. The woman’s eyes flickered open questioningly. She saw as I reached for my bag of tricks, from which I pulled another set of handcuffs, and before she could react, I slapped the cuffs on her wrists in front of her body. “What are you doing?” she shrieked.
I stood, and then fell back in a sitting position on the bed, my knees too weak to stand. On the bed, Megan was starring at me in horror. Her eyes took in my shinny, rock-hard cock that swung in the air. She gasped, speechless.
“Get the fuck out of here now!” It was Sandra crying from the floor. I reached down and grabbed her by the handcuffs that held her wrists together in front of her naked body. I used these to yank her off of the floor. She protested as I flung her roughly onto the bed, where she landed next to the prone and outstretched body of her naked daughter.
“You fucking bastard!” Sandra screamed as I pulled her arms upward and refastened the handcuffs so that her wrists were now bound to the horizontal bed head rail in the exact manner of her daughter. She kicked violently with her free legs. I had to watch out for them. “You miserable fucking bastard!” she screamed.
I ignored her. I was taking in a marvelous sight. Mother and daughter, both gorgeous, naked and terrified, both lying on their backs side by side, their arms outstretched over their heads, their wrists shackled to the horizontal bar of the bed head. They were monumentally beautiful.
“I want Megan to witness the rest of this,” I said, my voice husky with lust. “I want her to watch her mommy getting fucked!”
I was ready to mount the mother again, but now, obviously, our deal was off. She was a smart woman and I think that she at that moment realized in despair that there never really was a deal, that I had just been stringing her along. Imagine that! If you can’t trust your rapist, whom can you trust?
In any event, this meant that she was no longer going to willingly allow me to mount her. She kicked out at me with her legs in a fashion that would put a mule to shame. She was trying desperately to land a kicking blow to my testicles. I had no choice but to bring a solid punch downward into her belly, followed by a stunning slap to the face. Beside us, daughter Megan screamed in terror.
The girl’s mother was no longer in a condition to offer resistance. She was too concerned with efforts to draw breath back into her lungs. It was easy for me to crawl in between her now limp legs. I even took the time to shove a pillow under her ass, lifting the angle of her pussy upward to better receive me.
I was through with all the preliminaries. They had been a load of fun, but my lust level now required sating. I hovered over the still stricken woman—she was still gasping for breath—and ran my arms underneath her thighs, forcing them wide apart. I looked down and, without using my hands, visually guided the tip of my engorged penis to the lips of her pussy. She was unable to deny me. Slowly, my cock slid into her still wet canal. I went all the way into her in one motion. When I felt I was to the hilt, I pushed inward even harder. I was so deep that I was surprised the tip of it didn’t come out her wide open mouth—wide open in its frantic bid for oxygen.
I looked over and was pleased to see that Megan was watching. She appeared to be in shock, a condition that may have made it impossible for her to look away, despite how badly she may have wanted to.
I turned my attention back to her mother, whom I began to fuck very hard. The bed springs resounded. Very quickly I felt my ejaculation coming, and when it did, I buried my cock as deeply into my victim as anatomically possible. I ceased my movements and so that I could better feel the full effect of the spasms that sent my hot sperm squirting into the depths of her womanhood. She had mostly recovered from the effects of my blows by now, and her head swung violently back and forth on the mattress in futile defiance, her face a tight grimace of frustration and humiliation at the fact that her rape had been fully consummated.
I kept myself inside her for the longest while, basking in the glow of my conquest, feeling the sweat of both our bodies, feeling the rage that—despite her present state of tired surrender—coursed palpably through her veins. At last I rolled off her, my now semi-flaccid penis sliding form her wet cunt. My body came to rest, facing upward, lying between the two beautiful, naked women.
********
I lay for a long while simply savoring the situation. The room was quiet. My two companions lay beside me, all three of us on our backs, all of us motionless. Sandra and I were both physically spent, while Megan undoubtedly was emotionally exhausted. Neither of the women was straining anymore against the shackles that bound their wrists to the cross bar of the bed head. They obviously realized the futility of it, and it certainly caused them pain if they persisted. The only noises the two made were sniffles, as both their noses were clogged with snot from so much crying. It seemed that both were too tired, too scared, too defeated, too humiliated to voice anything at this point.
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