Chapter 4

The shower was finished, and she had put on a hip-length see-through nightie he had bought her-one of a half dozen. This one was white. She had never worn anything like this before, and the sensual feel of the smooth, light material as it slid over her otherwise naked, cleansed body thrilled her. She ought to be ashamed, she knew, but she wasn't. She knew she was going to be made love to, and though she didn't relish the idea, she had decided it might be a good idea to submit, if only to avoid pain.

She stepped out of the bathroom and entered the larger of the two bedrooms. Tom was there, wearing only pajama bottoms, and her heart began thumping the moment his eyes fastened themselves on her. He had never seen her like this before, and the sight of her was having its effect as she saw the swelling take place in his pajama pants. Every sensuous detail of her delightful nakedness was lucidly clear, from the rising swell of her tiny pink nipples right down to the soft triangle of reddish-blonde pubic hair that nestled mysteriously below her tantalizingly white, flat belly.

His eyes were those of a madman. Susan knew he was going to hurt her, not because he wanted to, not because he was sadistic, but because his desire for her was so great, like her husband he wouldn't be able to wait to get her aroused enough.

Fear trilled its way up and down her spine, and she began to automatically back away from the man. But he was circling, and he had moved between her and the door so that the only direction she might travel to get away from him was toward the bed.

At that moment, nothing mattered to Tom Warren other than the finality of ramming his hard, throbbing phallus into the sweet glove of cunt that had surrounded his fingers, earlier. She had become more than a love-object to him. She was a creature of wanton desire, that is, a creature wantonly desired by him. He had to have her. He had to fill the cup of her with his own hard flesh. Nothing else in the world mattered at that point.

Susan was dazed at the lust in him, and really didn't know what to say. Finally, out of sheer terror, she gasped, "What are you thinking? Why do you look at me that way?"

There was no verbal response from the heavy dark-haired man. She noted he carried all his weight in his belly. His buttocks, beneath the pajama pants, were small and flat, and he had powerful thighs. Even his arms had no flab on them.

He approached her and she backed against the bed. Then his hand was reaching for her, a deep, animalistic groan coming from the depths of his throat. He tugged her roughly down onto the bed. His hands gripped the nightie and tore, and the material was ripped away like so much tissue paper.

"So long," he muttered. "I've waited for this for so long."

"I'll do it, I'll do it!" she gasped. "But be gentle. For heaven's sake, be gentle."

Her voice was resounding through the bedroom in terror as he held her down with one hand and ran his other hand greedily over the lush contours of her body. She automatically resisted. Her breasts were white bowls, firm, yet soft, pink-tipped with circular areolae and centered with equally pink nipples. Unable to help himself, he squeezed one of her breasts between his fingers, and tight puffs of white flesh protruded painfully in bloodless ridges as he compressed all the more tightly. His head fell to the swollen bowls, his mouth moving to the budding nipples. He sucked, his teeth biting into the resilient flesh of the nipple, feeling the rubbery flesh yield to his mouth as he all but gnawed. Though he didn't break the skin, the pressure of his teeth was painful, at best.

"No, oh, God, no ... not like this ... not the way my husband used to be ... please ... be merciful ... be gentle ... I'll do whatever you wish...." she pleaded, but the words rolled unheeded from her tortured lips.

In his insane desire for her, Tom held Susan's straining body firmly against the bed's solid mattress, made even more solid by the board underneath. She was imprisoned now, all but crushed by the heavy weight of the man's chest that felt like a huge, flat stone crushing her. Her short blonde-red hair whipped this way and that as she thrashed helplessly on the bed, her face contorted with horror, her hazel eyes flashing wide in their disbelief that this was happening to her. She continued pleading, but he had knocked the wind out of her, and no words came from her moving lips. Then he did it!

Ignoring her low moans, paying no attention to her pleas, he kicked off his pajama pants, and Susan felt it before she saw it. The sheer breadth and length of it made her look down, and she was stunned at the sight of his penis. It had to be nearly twice the length of her former husband's, and it had to be more than twice as thick. It looked to be almost as thick as her forearm, and half as long, no, three-quarters as long. He expected to fit something that huge into the tiny hole into which he had barely been able to fit two fingers? He was insane.

Her slender white thigh scissored out in a final desperate effort to escape the brutality of what was going to take place. His hips had fallen weightily between her wide-splayed loins, thus pinning her quivering ass-cheeks to the bed. The soft, fleecy down of her red-gold pubic hair was brushing teasingly against his pulsating phallus, inciting and arousing him to incoherent mumblings of crazed and uncontrollable lust.

There was a mirror attached to the dresser off to the left, and in it, Susan saw, as if in slow motion, the assault taking place on her helpless body. The man's heavy knees were digging into the soft hollows of her inner thighs, forcing them even wider apart, and he was pressing his fulcrum down against her, grinding his pelvis against her defenselessly squirming crotch. He was gripping his thick cock now, not giving her a chance to lubricate as he had done when he had fingered her. Brutally, cruelly, he shoved the solidified head of his cock against her vaginal opening. She was so tiny down there, it made her all the more aware of how thick his penis really was. Without warning, he jammed the penis forward, parting the full fleshiness of her moist inner labia. He groaned, and without waiting for her to adjust, crammed the full length of his swollen cock all the way into the narrow closure of her cuntal crypt, burying his "caesar" as deeply as possible into her.

Susan kicked insanely, squealing like a stuck pig, "Yyyyyaaaaaiiiii...."

Her legs wildly flailed the air, hoping to escape from what this insane man was planning, but the cruel impalement continued. Each movement on her part merely worsened what was already happening to her, and she still heard the guttural screech of total torment that came tumbling pitifully from the depths of her throat as the rock-solid pylon of flesh battered its way deeper and deeper into her womanly culvert. The head of his penis battered into the back wall of her cunt, and for a moment she feared he would drill his way right through. But at last his hairy pelvis smacked into the delicate flesh of her groin, signaling it was impossible for him to sink any farther into her. His rigidly fleshy column lay buried all the way inside her quivering belly, much deeper than her husband's had ever reached, stretching her walls much wider than her husband had ever been able to. The inner membranes of her cunt had wrapped themselves around his cock as if intent on adhering to it.

"My God! My God! My God!" she gasped. "Please ... wait ... let me adjust ... please ... you're killing meeeeee...."

But he didn't stop. He didn't even give her a chance to widen inside to his sudden driving presence in the depths of a womb that had, after fifteen years, returned to its virginal tightness.

He began fucking insanely. He had only one thought at the moment, and that was to unleash the glut of sperm filling his reservoir into her cunt, putting a part of himself permanently inside her. She deserved to have him spew his seed into her. She had used him, teased him, and now deserved anything and everything he was going to give her. He was venting his lust, a lust that had grown over six months, into the tightness of her groaning belly time after time, intent on flooding her interior with the seed manufactured in his own body. He would fuck her again and again, until all his frustrations were gone, and he no longer gave a damn about her. Then he would turn her loose, back at her old apartment, never seeing her again, because he intended transferring to another stock brokerage firm up here, in the mountains, and he would live at this cabin where she would never again find him.

Susan felt her belly move with his thrusts, her body lifting, her cunt moving forward, then back, forward, then back, and the pain in her became almost monotonous, until once again the feeling she had enjoyed when he had pushed his fingers into her began mounting inside her, and she knew she was going to come in spite of the agony and in spite of being manhandled, and not because of it.

She didn't realize it at the time, but Susan had found her soul-mate. No matter what he would do to her, she would enjoy it, simply because he was the one doing it to her. He was marvelous, yet he was horrible. He was wonderful, but hateful. He thrust his cock into the pocket of her tight cunt again and again, and when she realized his phallus was thickening even more, and his urethra was twitching, knowing he was on the verge of orgasm, that was when she came.

"YYYYYAAAAAIIIII YYYYYAAAIIII YYY-EEEEAAAA IIIYYYYYAAA GGGGHHHHUUUU NNNGGGGHHHH AAAAIIIIYYYYY EEEE-AAAAAIIIIYYYYAAAAHHHHH!" she shrieked, as he, out of breath, was unable to shout as he spurted his seed into her.

He fucked into her for a long time, as if making sure all the seed he spurted was pumped into her, not wanting it to come out. Susan was so exhausted by what he was doing, she fell asleep before he finished.