Chapter 4

In an open space among the redwoods in Muir Woods a frisbee spun, seeming to hover motionless mid-air for a moment before Vivian snatched it and threw it out again with a fling of her forearm. It arched up and then curved to the side. Ted made a running leap to catch it and with a snap of his wrist sent it back to Bob. While the three played, Fran cooked hamburgers on the grill and Ellen unloaded a wicker picnic basket. Gene sat at the far end of the nearby picnic table, no longer reading the Sunday Chronicle, stacked messed-up in front of him. He sipped a Budweiser and stared off into the woods, tapping his foot on the ground, tapping out some internal rhythm or expressing impatience.

Having been glancing over her shoulder every few minutes in a furtive effort to tell what was on her lover's mind, Fran poked one of her burgers with the corner of a spatula to see how long they had to go, turned them for a final minute or so and skipped over to her lover.

"Hungry?" she asked.

Gene shrugged and grimaced and said, "Mmmm ... so-so."

"Well, what's wrong?" she whispered. "Aren't you having a good time?"

Gene shrugged again and gave her a seconds-long penetrating look before saying, "So-so."

"Well, is something wrong?"

"Don't fret about it," he said, almost snapping, "Your hamburgers'll burn."

"There's no reason to sit here and sulk," she said, leaving and going back to the grill. Honestly, she didn't know what got into him sometimes; he acted so unfriendly. But it had been so long since she had related to a man intimately that she had almost forgotten her feminine wiles: she felt awkward whenever she tried to get him out of one of his bad moods; yet she always felt guilty whenever he was in a bad mood, fearing that maybe she wasn't quite measuring up, that she was letting him down somehow.

Ellen called the others and everyone sat down to eat. Dinner was somehow unpleasant, and Fran couldn't quite pinpoint the reason, in part because she didn't know anything about cars and that's what the boys had talked about. Ted had said that he wished he knew something about cars so that he could fix his, since his universal joints were going out. Bob then volunteered to help him with it, since his old car had been the same model, a '63 Chevy, and he'd once had to do the same thing to it.

"Hell, it's simple," Gene said. "Even if you haven't done it before it's no big deal. All you do is climb under it and unscrew four nuts and then you can pull out the drive shaft. No problem."

"You and I know that," Bob said, "but I don't think Ted's ever looked under a car before."

"And there's just two U-joints to replace once you got the thing out."

"I think there's three U-joints," Bob said.

"Naw, a '63 Chevy just has two," Gene said.

"I'm positive," Bob said. "I recall quite clearly..."

"Bullshit!" Gene roared, and Fran couldn't clearly remember what happened after that, exactly what had been said, just that Bob had withdrawn and become more and more silent-and Fran could tell from his manner that he knew he was right-while Gene became livid with rage that Bob wouldn't admit that a '63 Chevy only had two U-joints. The whole thing was insane. Gene was like a bull seeing red; he seemed to assume that he was personally under attack.

Something else had troubled Fran: As they were getting ready to leave, putting everything back into the cars, Ted goosed Vivian. And rather than one of his playful pats or tweaks, it had seemed like an absolutely ferocious goose. Vivian had been an inviting enough target, Fran supposed, (she always was!), leaning way over to get something out of the back of the trunk, her panties stretched over her buttocks as her dress rose tightly covering her mound of Venus. And coming up behind her, Ted had dug his hand into his sister's helpless crotch, and dug and dug ... squirming his fingers God knew where before Vivian managed to get her head free from the trunk and straighten up, but even once she had stood up she lurched and jumped and danced for what seemed like a full minute as her brother dug his stiffened fingers into her thinly pantied honeypot before she managed to shake her ass free.

"Holy Jee-sus!" she cried.

Ted grinned leeringly and Vivian blushed as she reached down to pull her panties out of her crack.

What bothered Fran was that such sex-play seemed totally unnecessary. They had been raised in a liberal environment, had always been natural about their bodies, had seen each other nude and thought nothing of it until Ted had gone to law school. So why did Ted now need to attack his sister's crotch?

But while Fran found that vaguely troublesome, she was far more troubled by Gene. In the car he was grimly sullen and she knew there would be trouble when they got home. She began preparing to try to smooth it over.

As the day wore on Gene said nothing and did not appear disturbed by the incident, and by nightfall Fran had almost convinced herself that nothing had really happened, that it had just been one of those momentarily unpleasant situations that are best forgotten-there had been a whole string of them lately between Gene and the kids and she was always on edge, hoping to make the best of it. Gene seemed to think everyone had it in for him, yet there was nothing specific to point to, just half-imagined insults and petty annoyances.

Not until they got into bed that night did the bomb fall.-

"I think it's time I left," Gene said.

"You mean leave me?" Fran said, calmly.

"That's right."

"Oh," she said, fighting to keep a stiff upper lip, "Is there any reason?"

"I'm tired of this."

"Oh," she said. "Well, I suppose if you get tired of a woman after two weeks, there isn't any other way, is there? You just pack up and leave."

In spite of her apparent calmness, the look on Fran's face was one of incredible hurt, and whether from sympathy or because it was how he really felt, Gene touched his fingers to her cheek and said, "Why shit-no, baby, I'm not tired of you. Not at all. You're the best pussycat in the world," he purred, and relief flooded up in Fran's heart.

"You got a good sense of how to keep a man happy," he continued, running his hand to her shoulder and on down to her hip, giving her a squeeze before pulling up her nightgown. "You're a real fine piece and sometimes I think you really care about me," he said.

"I do," she said, parting her thighs as he slid his hand into the hairy vortex at her belly's base. She always began to slaver the minute he touched her and he teased her dampening puffy pussy lips for a minute before sliding his middle finger between them, burying it to the second joint in her slick, tingling vagina. She clamped her legs shut again, imprisoning his hand on her crotch.

"What's the problem, then?" she asked. "Why do you want to leave?"

"Shit, lady, you got too many relatives, that's all. The way I figure it, you've either got a lovin' scene or a family scene ... a woman either wants a lover or a papa for her kids," he drawled, and if she hadn't known in her heart what he was leading up to Fran would have smiled to hear him talk like this, since he wasn't that much older than Ted. "Now, sometimes you can get both," he continued, "but the way I see it is like this: I've got just a little bit too much of the dog in me yet to put up with a heavy family scene, that's all. I don't have time for it and it takes too much out of the lovin'."

"I'm ... I'm sorry you see it that way," was all she managed to say.

"It isn't just the way I see it," he said. "It's the way it is. I can't hack the scene-not the way it is ..."

She knew what he wanted her to say but steeled herself against the impulse to say it-what had her ten years of self-sacrifice been for, anyway?-her will power hardening and suffusing throughout her being ... until he swished his finger. He straightened his finger and began poking it stiffly in and out her clammy pussy, flicking every cuntal cranny within reach, each swirling jab-like a butter knife in a mayonnaise jar, she thought-sending electric jolts pulsing through her cunt, setting her spine a-tingle.

"Of course, if you want me to go, you don't have to say anything," he said, as he began to withdraw his hand. "I wouldn't want to ask you to do anything you didn't want to do."

"No!" she gasped, grabbing his hand with both of hers and holding it firmly to her pussy as her legs shot apart. On her back now, she began wiggling her hips and in urgency tried to pull his not-entirely-cooperative hand back into her twat. She succeeded in twisting his fingers enough to get two of them into the seething orifice of her vagina and proceeded to use them to fuck herself, panting now.

He grazed her nipples lightly with his knuckles and they sprang immediately to life, achingly filled with blood. Idly, he squeezed one of the hard throbbing points with his thumb and forefinger, saying, "This isn't fair to you, to get you all worked up like this. One of us, at least, has to be firm and make up his mind."

"I'll... I'll speak ... to Vivian... tomorrow," Fran panted, making up her mind, rather her body making up her mind for her as perspiration broke out on her brow. "Oh," she groaned, "please fuck me now!"

Gene's cock was ramrod stiff and he needed no further prompting. He moved in between her parted legs and, taking each in a hand, doubled them back against her chest. Fran's finger-frictioned love nest pouted up at him from the midst of damp, blond pussy hair, and he lowered his head and ran his tongue along her passion-reddened slit. "Ahhhhhhhh!" she exclaimed, stretching her thighs still farther apart. "I go wild when you eat me!"

"But that's not what you want most right now, is it?" Gene said. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do. I want to hear it."

"I want your cock in me!" she said feverishly. "I want you to ram your big black cock into my cunt as far as you can. I want you to fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk for a week!"

In the back of Fran's fevered mind churned the thought that since she was abandoning her children, essentially, for sex, pain should rightfully accompany her pleasure.

Gene shuffled closer to her on his knees and Fran groped for his hard-standing love tool. "Let me put it in," she begged. "I love to put it in me!"

She bumped the swollen head against her cranny in search of her cuntal entrance. Her hand steadied and then she bucked her hips, her opening stretching to admit the thick bluntness. Her breath whistled between her teeth, "Ohhhh, that divine feeling," she moaned.

Gene immersed his thick cock in her upthrust quim with steady pressure. His black-veined rigidity was engulfed in Fran's straining twat an inch at a time. He joggled his hips to widen her slick passage. When he was belly-to-belly with her he lowered his head to the juncture of her neck and shoulder and then began to pump with fury. Fran gasped as his cock powerdived into her tight-clasping cunt, all her soft womanliness in motion. Belly, breasts and buttocks jiggled gelatinously as Gene plunged with rapid deep thrusts into the hungry receptacle.

"MMMMMmmmmm" Fran moaned through her nose as her cunt was buffeted deliciously by the deep-lodged ramrod. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she gibbered, raising her legs higher and clasping Gene's waist tightly with her thighs, her upraised bare bottom wiggling passionately as Gene continued to churn her pussy into a lather.

A hot spark, ignited in her interior, suddenly liquefied. "Gene!" Fran screamed as the spark became a blaze. Her thighs trembled as she writhed beneath her lover's steady poking. "Oh! I'm-ohhhhh-it's good! It's-I'm-'m cummming! OHHHhhh!"

Her convulsing cunt deluged Gene's fleshy wedge, piercing her to her body's depths. Fran's behind sank back to the bed as the huge cock plummeted her juicy cavern with high abandon, his balls slapping her anus with loud smacks as he grunted from the exertion. Her hands strayed down his muscled back to his buttocks as she urged him on, as he continued to pound her oozing, no-longer twitching twat. His hard stomach resounded noisily on her soft one and she wiggled her punished pussy beneath him as her teeth began to rattle from the increased force of his fucking. She couldn't catch her breath and panted in time with the slaps and squishes from below.

And then a shudder rippled through her and it was followed by another quick flame, fomenting dizzy excitement in her hard-pounding depths, "Ohh! Ohhh! Gene, just a minute longer-I'm ... I'm ..."

His fierce lunges steadied into slow-grinding thrusts as Fran's pearly, wide-spanned rump climbed from the bed again and jiggled in fleshy abandonment. Her hips spiraled in feverish frantic movement as her breath stopped coming completely and she gurgled deep in her throat, her body wrenched by uncontrollable interior forces while his prick strokes into her returned to their former resounding intensity. His shoulders hunched and his knees dug into the bed for additional leverage. His teeth nipped at Fran's neck as he pounded her creaming twat for all he was worth, and then he bellowed hoarsely as his hands slipped beneath her to compress her hind cheeks while hot jets of sperm traveled the length of his shuddering cock and inundated her twitching sex chute.

After a moment Gene's abated erection slipped gently from Fran's ruby-red pussylips and he moved out from between her legs and rolled onto his back. Fran flexed her legs several times, savoring the diminishing sensation still lodged in her cooling cunt. Then she turned and whispered in Gene's ear, "You throw a wonderful fuck. Just wonderful."

It was wonderful and Fran lay awake thinking about it long after the form in bed beside her had begun to snore lightly. Her mind worked: To get something good in life, you have to sacrifice for it, you-you have to give something else up sometimes. Thus she rationalized her decision, attempting to come up with a mental framework in support of it so that she would not feel guilty. She remembered her spells, her periods of seeming sexual insanity during the past ten years when she couldn't get it off her mind, when she would lie on her bed without her panties and play with her pussy by the hour-suddenly, the thought of sticking her hand into her own pussy (unless her lover watched, since he seemed to get turned on by the sight of her doing that to herself) made her want to vomit. Never again. Never would she be that hard-up again.

She spoke to Vivian late the next morning, her first opportunity. Vivian was breakfasting-branching really, since it was after eleven-on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, grape jelly, Fran noted as it dripped from the sides of the sandwich onto the table. The girl was not at her most approachable.

"Do you and Bob ever feel that you would like more privacy?" Fran asked, somewhat deviously.

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"Don't you ever think you would like to be alone together more often."

"We can just go into the bedroom if we do."

"Don't you get tired of having me around all the time?"

"Uh, no. You don't bother us. I mean, gee whiz, we like having you around, Mom."

"I like having you around, too, dear. But, well, as a woman grows older she has to adjust, uh, she goes through what you might call changes."

Vivian frowned as she licked jelly from her fingers. "You're not entering menopause already, are you, Mom?"

"Good Lord no!" Fran said, aghast at the thought. She was silent for a moment as she watched her daughter cram the last of the sandwich into her mouth, the "last" being fully one fourth of it which she stuffed in with her fingers. As soon as she had the gob wadded into her mouth, two or three chews and a gulp, she proceeded to lick her fingers clean. Fran had spoken to her too many times in the past about "scarfing" down her food to want to go into it now.

"The love that a person has for his family is somewhat different from the love he feels for others, usually one specific other, who sometimes can be the answer to, uh, loneliness."

"You mean sex?" Vivian said as she rubbed her napkin in circles on the formica, mopping up the excess jelly. "Yeah, sex is great."

"What I'm saying, dear," Fran said, forging ahead, determined now that she had a start, "is that while the two kinds of love aren't mutually exclusive or anything like that, one of them can sometimes impede the progress of the other, or it can seem to."

Fran paused, suddenly at a loss for words. Vivian sat frowning. "Oh," she said, finally, "you mean we're getting in your way, is that it?"

"Well, I hadn't quite meant..."

"Is that what you're sneaking around trying to say?

"Please, Vivian! I'm not being sneaky!"

"Oh. Okay. Then what exactly did you mean to say?"

Fran had the distinct feeling that Vivian was bullying her. She almost wanted to cry, "All right, have it your way!" but she loved her daughter and did not want to alienate her. Fran merely wanted to be understood.

"You're still young, quite young," Fran began.

"Don't pull that kind of rank on me now," Vivian huffed. "You've never done that."

"What I was going to say," Fran burst out, a helpless edge in her voice, "was that you're young and your whole life is ahead of you, your life is full of possibilities. I am not young and my life is not so full of possibilities. I have few options and have to take pretty much what comes my way."

"Oh, bull. You have fabulous legs, your waist is tiny, and your boobs are bigger than mine. What are you complaining about?"

"But I won't be that way much longer! I have to get what I can while I still have time!"

"Okay, so we're getting in your way. What do you want us to do about it?"

Fran took a deep breath. "Well, if, if Gene and I just had some time to ourselves, we could discover what we can achieve together. We won't know what kind of love we have until then. That's all I'm asking you for-that you try to understand and give us a chance. That's all..." Fran trembled, her mouth half open, her eyes beseeching and about to emit tears.

"What do you want us to do about it?" Vivian repeated, her mouth set in a tight firm line as she stared expressionlessly down at the table-top.

"Well, isn't there someplace else you could go for awhile? Couldn't you take a vacation somewhere?"

"We don't have much money. You know that."

"You could go stay with Ted, maybe."

"He's just got a one bedroom place, y'know. And he has to study a lot."

"I don't think he'd mind, not for awhile. Why don't you call him and ask?"

"Anything you say."

"Don't look so glum; I'm not deserting you or anything."

"True," Vivian said. "You're kicking me out-there's a distinction." She tossed her wadded napkin into the waste basket and stood up.

"Please try to understand," Fran said, hugging her daughter with both arms.

"I'll call Ted," Vivian said, breaking free of her mother's grasp.

Fran remained in her room long after the sounds of feet tramping and doors banging had ceased. When she was sure they weren't coming back she went out, looked into the room they had shared which was now empty of personal effects and turned away, firmly shutting the door. She sat in a chair in the living room looking out over the bay. The fog was coming in. It was a dreary day and being in a houseboat on the water made it no less dreary. The houseboat was empty, strangely empty of life. Fran had always had her children around her and now they were gone.

She went back into the bedroom and removed her clothes, folding each item of attire as she removed it. Once naked, she lay on her back in the waning daylight Without moving she listened to the creaking of the houseboat at its moorings as the tide came in. Everything became grey as the sun set and a chill grew in the air. Fran did nothing to protect herself, but lay naked even as her body broke into goose bumps, the more conscious of her nakedness because of the chill as darkness engulfed her.

Aware only of the gentle rocking of the houseboat with the tide, and not quite asleep, Fran dreamt. As she lay in an almost comatose state, her mind drifted. She dreamt she was on a raft adrift in a sea of darkness, no stars to light the sky, a mystic ebony shaft glimmering in the distance...

Bathed suddenly in light, she sat up, shielding her eyes with her hands.

Standing at the foot of the bed, Gene stared down on his woman, thinking, She got rid of them, just like I said. She's lying here naked just like I told her to....

She had looked so prim all those months in her street clothes when she came into the supermarket, never giving him a second glance. And then she had come in one day half-dressed, begging for attention, acting like a goddamn prick-tease, and she'd thought she was going to get away with it. Well, old Gene had showed her a thing or two. Like most white women, she had been secretly screaming to be dominated by a real man. This was one female who was never going to act uppity around him again. He wasn't going to let her forget who was boss.

Her eyes having adjusted to the light, Fran smiled just then and maybe that was a mistake. She smiled and patted the bed beside her-it was a natural enough gesture, one made by a woman who wanted her lover to come to her. But Gene scowled. She was acting too damn proud of herself, just a bit too pleased with herself, like she expected him to get down on his knees and thank her for something.

"The kitchen's a mess," he said. "That's a hell of a thing for a man to have to come home to. You're going to get your butt paddled."

"What?" She said, frowning, her mouth dropping open.

"I said you're going to get your butt paddled, just like anybody else who misbehaves," he said.

Fran was aghast, her mouth hanging open empty of speech. She tried to remember the kitchen's being a mess. A few dishes in the sink maybe...

"Come here," he barked. "Lie down here across my knees."

He picked a hairbrush off the dresser and sat down in the straight chair at the foot of the bed. The edge in his voice sparked Fran to motion. Uncomprehendingly, she slowly rose from the bed and stepped over to him. Roughly, he pulled her down across his legs. Fran felt so awkward that it was silly. Her feet touched the floor on one side of Gene and her face would have almost reached the floor on the other if she hadn't held herself up with her hands. She was going to be spanked! What a silly idea! She stifled a giggle-Gene gazed down upon the ample buttocks of the woman resting across his lap, a thick tuft of blonde hair visible between her thighs. Fran wiggled, trying to get comfortable, and as she unclenched her buttocks and shifted her thighs she revealed a flashing glimpse of her pink-lipped pussy nestled in its furry embrasure. This gave Gene pause to think for a moment, as countless generations of men before him had paused to think when presented with the same sight. He licked his lips, then dropped the hairbrush onto the floor.

Fran felt herself being tugged up: he was nudging her hip and pulling on her shoulder. What was this? Not even so much as a playful slap on the fanny? Only too glad to get down from her awkward perch, Fran righted herself and stood.

But no sooner had she stood than Gene began to position her anew. With no idea what he had in mind for her, she had all the coordination of a rag doll as he adjusted his chair, then had her straddle him, facing the bed, then toppled her forward. She now lay with her pelvis and lower abdomen on his knees, her thighs parted with one on either side of his hips and the back of the chair he sat in. Her breasts dangled in the air next to the baseboard at the foot of the bed, upon which rested her head and shoulders. Her face was turned to the side, her cheek on the satin bedspread.

All this had the effect merely of unfolding her snatch a bit. Her hairlips had parted to expose the ragged pink edges of her pussy. Gene seized her generous buttocks with his hands, squeezing them for a moment before his thumbs dipped between her wide-spread thighs to stretch the sensitive ridges of her twat. At the moment of contact, the pink gaping hole began to bubble its lubricant. He spread the thick liquid over the surface of the small, soft folds with his thumb. Her clitoris thrust to attention, and stood quiveringly. When he smoothly slid two fingers into her dripping chute, Fran squirmed deliciously. When he began to twist his fingers back and forth and flick her clitoris with his thumb, Fran moaned, gasping for breath as she closed her eyes.

When she canted her pelvis and began to rotate her hips, Gene abruptly withdrew his hand. Emptied too suddenly, Fran felt slightly nauseated, but her ass was still canted up at him when the first blow fell, smarting one globe, followed quickly by a second open-handed slap, leaving a hand-print in scarlet on the other globe.

"Ow! Ow! Ouch!" Fran yelped as the blows rained onto her hapless posterior. Both quivering quaking masses turned bright red as Gene slapped them without mercy. Fran writhed and wiggled her ass from side to side in an effort to the blows; she bit her lip and tears began to fall from her eyes. But in her heart, choked-up and confused though it was, she knew that there was a tightness in this, that for having been cruel to her daughter she deserved punishment of some kind and this was it. And since she had abandoned her child for lust, it was poetically just that she have her desire aroused first But she had had all she could bear: she wailed openly, "Ahhhh! Ohhh! Wahhhh! It hurts!"

"What hurts?"

"My ASS! MY ASS HURRRTS!" she wailed.

Heedless of her pleas, Gene redoubled his efforts, smacking her frantically contorted buttocks so that his own hand burned, flailing her with loud-sounding salutes. Between her abused dancing buttocks the brown berry of her anus winked at him, as did the pink flesh of her gaping twat: his prick had risen like a sword. He poured another hail of explosive wallops upon her almost brick-red rear as her shrieks died away to strangled sobs and low moaning gasps as the hot flame built up in her revolving posterior. Gene stopped abruptly, shaking his hand to get the sting out of it, watching curiously as Fran's seething backside continued to writhe. With his other hand, he gently stroked the heated flesh. Fran sobbed convulsively as her florid buttocks slowed from their unseemly dance.

When she had slowed just enough so that he could get a bead on her, he pressed two fingers into her seething pussy. Fran gasped and her tears stopped. Sobs became moans as fingers gouged the walls of her cunt and a thumb diddled her clit. The unseemly dance of her ass began again more rapidly than it had slowed.

"Yes! Yes!" she cried. She wanted this. Her pussy was enflamed and her buttocks blazed and she needed release. Her contortions of pained pleasure were even more extreme than those of pure hurt. Her whole helpless body wiggled and humped as Gene's hard fingers swished briskly in and out her pussy. With loud smacks her breasts slapped against the baseboard of the bed as she bucked, her whole highly charged body shuddering on the brink. She held her breath, ground her upthrust blindly-clasping pussy onto the ramming fingers, and came, gurgling, "Ah! Ah ... arghh!"

When she collapsed, visibly sagging as soon as her twitchings had subsided on his fingers, Gene tested the rubbery brown ring of her anus with his forefinger, tracing the outline of the tight orifice with his fingertip before dragging the woman to her feet and lowering her onto her face on the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom.

He reappeared, a moment later, with a jar of cold cream. "Now I'm going to fuck you in the ass," he said.

Not sure that she had heard correctly, Fran looked around to see Gene smearing white cream on his stiff black cock. She thought he looked silly and was about to giggle until his words sank in and she realized what he was going to do with his cold-creamed cock.

"No! No! Please!" she pleaded. "Not now! Not today! My ass is sore enough."

"You're not that sore," he said, giving her already-abused fanny a stiff thwack.

Fran grimaced when he raised his hand, but the blow didn't hurt anywhere near as much as she anticipated, since her buttocks were now only mildly sunkissed pink, the fire having gone out of them. She looked over her shoulder as, his stiff-standing prick now covered liberally with cold cream, he got an additional gob on his fingers.

"Spread your legs," he barked.

Against her better judgment, Fran did, and two seconds later the unpleasantly cold gob of cold cream had been deposited smack dab on her anus.

"Noooo," she moaned, clenching her buttock muscles as tightly as she could. "You're hurting me."

"Relax, damn it," he said, "or I'll give you another hiding."

But there was no more chance of her relaxing than of hell freezing over. Before she knew it he had pushed his finger into her tiny opening to the first knuckle. He grinned as Fran's squirming behind resisted, her knees clawing the bed as the stubborn finger slowly pierced her. With a final thrust Gene inserted his finger all the way until his palm was pressed flat against the wriggling cheeks of her abused backside. "Www! Owwww! It hurts! Noo!" she gasped, hardly able to get her breath through the exquisite pain lancing her anus.

"Come on, sweetheart, you ain't felt nothin' yet," Gene said with a tiny malicious smile. "Just wait until I get my cock in there."

Fran feared she would faint on the spot. Buggering, she had heard it called-it was something homosexuals did. The thought that it could happen to her boggled her mind. Gene was being more of a brute than she'd ever imagined he could be. He might seriously injure her. That giant cock of his thrust into her tight little asshole ... it was a manifest impossibility.

But Gene began to rotate his finger deep inside her anus to loosen the passage. There was a strange grin on his face as he felt the soft, buttery smoothness inside her rectum as he skewered her. Fran, writhing under this ruthless penetration of her, thought her whole bottom was afire for a second time that evening. A second later she shrieked as she thought his finger had doubled in size only to realize that a second finger had been urged into the passage alongside the first.

She sobbed openly, just as she had when she'd been spanked. The piercing pain tore at her interior like a fiery dart. Rage mingled with her pain, rage that she was unable to prevent this cruel exploitation of her flesh (after all she'd sacrificed!) but then the pain became so acute that it drove everything else out of her mind. "Ow! Ohhhh! Ouch! NO! Oh God, stop! You son of a bitch!"

There, the words were out before she quite realized she'd said them. For a moment she thought she'd hurt his feelings. The fingers pulled out of her aching rectum with a loud popping sound. "Oh, thank God!" she moaned, sorry she'd offended him, but indeed grateful to have him cease, then her voice suddenly soared almost to a scream as she felt Gene lowering his weight on her back and his long, thick cock gliding up the damp crevice of her buttocks to her aching asshole. "NO!" she wailed, feverishly, "No! No! No!"

"You'll love this," Gene told her confidently. "It'll only hurt for a few seconds. Then you're gonna go off your nut."

Fran's eyes bulged in terror as she flinched from the great prong digging at her shrinking, puckered anus. Gene worked his way forward slightly on her perspiring back and pushed against her sphincter with which she fought to keep him out. But the finger-penetration had left the muscle tired and sore. "Ahhhhhh!" she screeched as she felt the black-crowned head of the big prick lunge its way into her agonized rectum. She thought she was being split in two.

Above her Gene grunted noisily as he thrust with his hips to force his cock into her straining rectum in quarter-inch increments. The pressure on the head of his fleshy rod was driving him half out of his mind with pleasure. He gained more ground with short lunges that buried him more deeply between her rouged-looking hind cheeks.

Fran pounded on the bed with the flat of her hands as the fiery dagger forced its way farther and farther inside her alimentary canal. She seemed to have no voice left. It hurts so, it hurts so, it hurts so, her brain screamed tiredly over and over again. Her entire body ached with the effort-the unavailing effort-of repelling the ravaging prick in her distended anus.

And then there was a pause... what a miserable day this has been, she thought. I've been spanked and buggered.

She raised her head inquiringly, hoping from the lack of movement that it was over. Gene hadn't pulled out of her ass, she knew; she still felt stuffed beyond belief back there. While the pain hadn't gone, it seemed to have moved to the background while a strange half-expectant, anticipatory sensation took over.

Then Gene began to move upon her, sliding his godless cock inches in and out of her loosened passage. Was she actually at this moment being fucked in the ass, she thought wonderingly. The impossible was happening. The big cock massaged hidden areas of virgin flesh in an almost snuggling manner. She felt the palpitations of her mildly glowing buttocks under the weight of Gene's body at each thrust he made into her ass. A hot coal suddenly ignited in Fran's reawakened cunt. Was she losing her mind? Was her body beginning to respond to this foul use of it?

Gene fucked her expanding flesh steadily, and Fran raised her hips tentatively. She was at once flattened on her belly again by his next surge which seemed to penetrate even more thoroughly. She thrust her glowing bottom upwards again to meet his next plunge. "Ohhh!" she grunted as the big cock smacked into her rear. It was half painful, half stimulating. "Ohhh! Oh! Ohhhhh!" she murmured as her ass-fucking continued.

Gene's body dripped sweat on her own lathered flesh as they both worked harder. Fran couldn't understand herself. She was being used as she had thought only animals were used, and here she was beginning to enjoy it. The prick in her anus was now moving in and out almost freely. She'd been spanked mercilessly, she'd had one orgasm, and now the friction of a cock in her rectum was so stimulating her that she could feel the coal of her cunt glowing a deep red and knew, incredibly, that she was going to have another orgasm. She reached under her up-thrusting hips with both hands to clasp Gene's giant throbbing balls and to hold them tightly against her ignited cunt.

Gene's movements began to quicken and she sensed that the tight constriction afforded his cock by her asshole was about to take its toll. His weight pounded her as he plunged frenziedly in and out of her rectum. Fran heard herself squealing in mingled pain and pleasure as his frantic efforts pierced new depths. He jerked spastically upon her back as hot sperm burst from his cock, rocketing into her pierced rectum. "Ahhhhhhh" he yelled in her ear as he came in throbbing bursts.

The thick semen felt soothing to Fran's lacerated flesh. For an instant she felt she was standing on tiptoe, and then she was flinging her hips upward onto the prick still impaling her rear while she ground her pelvis lasciviously against the bed. Lightning bolts coursed through her flesh as she writhed furiously. "Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!" she cried out as convulsions wrenched her pussy for a second time that night. "There-there!" Humping her middle up and down, she came with a blinding force that threatened to leave her senseless. She had never known such a climax.

She fell forward on the bed with a man, exhausted. With the cessation of tactile sensibility in connection with her immense arousal, the pain in her rectum returned. Not nearly like before, but it was definitely sore. Gene's prick, still not fully subdued, remained inside her. She whimpered when he started to withdraw it despite his sperm-lubricating deluge of her interior.

With a yank Gene pulled his deflating penis from her ass with a whooshing sound. "Ouch!" she cried as she rolled onto her side, once free from his weight. She extended a hand behind her to tenderly explore her ravaged asshole. It felt wet and slippery to her examining finger, and very, very tender.

Fran was one very tired, very sore woman. This was one night in her life when she'd gotten a hell of a lot more than she'd bargained for and in a way she'd never have chosen to have it.

"Well, now I know," Gene said, his voice melodious and affectionate.

"Know what," she murmured.

"You not only got the sweetest cunt, you got the sweetest asshole I ever found," he said, half meaning it.

"Uh," she grunted, thinking that that second distinction was one she'd never have prayed for.