Chapter 9
Curt stripped the coverlet from the huge four-poster bed, disclosing the sheet. "Down on your back," he told Ralph. "Since we're gentlemen, we wouldn't ask a lady with a sore ass to get on the bottom. She'll ride you from on top."
Isabel watched, still blinking away tears, while Ralph obediently slid onto his back and stretched out with his rugged-looking erection waggling in the air.
"First time I fucked your wife I couldn't understand how I got in so easy," Curt said casually. "That's a real piece of machinery you got there, Reverend." He lifted Isabel onto the bed on her knees. "Stand up and slide your cunt down on that," he said.
She did as she was told, awkwardly, but with no mishap. She whimpered once when the new position stretched her discolored rump, but she straddled her husband's thighs as the blubbery head of his long penis burrowed more deeply into her chalice. "Ohhh!" she breathed as she sat down~ upon it completely, wide-eyed at the extent of the penetration.
This whole incredible experience can't really be taking place, Ralph Fairbanks thought. He would wake up presently to find it a dream. Naturally he was going to do all in his power to prevent Isabel's picture being sent to the Board of Trustees, but he had never expected to have any pleasure from it. He knew he should feel guilty for having whipped his wife so severely, but at the moment the sensations engendered by the feel of her tight sheath upon his rigid shaft was all he could encompass.
Curt pushed Isabel's upper body forward until her heavy breasts brushed Ralph's chest. "Give her a little ride from underneath," he instructed the minister. Ralph raised and lowered himself underneath his wife, and his jogging penis frictioning he: clutching cunt caused her to move her own hips tentatively. She sighed deeply at the warming result.
Her new position had elevated and spread Isabel's streaked hindquarters. Hardened prick in hand, Curt straddled Ralph's lower legs as he approached Isabel's plumped-out hemispheres. "Hold her, now!" he warned. He shuffled closer on his knees and applied his prick to Isabel's anus.
She quivered at the contact. All too well she recalled the excruciating pain of the assault upon that portion of her body in Curt's office. She switched her hips from side to side despite the pain in her behind, trying to dislodge the intruder. Curt gripped her waist and held her firmly, boring harder with his big tool.
"What are you ... trying to do!" she gasped. "I'm . . . filled!" Her brain was in a ferment as the burning smart in her behind was offset by Ralph's jogging rigidity stirring up an entirely different kind of heat inside her vagina.
"If one prick's good, two's better," Curt answered. He had his prick thrust deeply between Isabel's voluptuous, wealed hind cheeks, and he thrust forward steadily.
"Oooh!" Isabel bleated as Curt wormed his way in an inch, ground forward another inch, and then burst through the brown-ringed barrier with a corkscrew movement. Isabel squalled. Curt rested for a moment with his hard cock inside to the hilt, his belly resting against Isabel's behind.
"How's that . . . for a sandwich!" he panted.
The feel of the two big prongs separated only by a thin flap of her own flesh caused hot flashes and cold goosebumps to alternate upon Isabel's flesh. Once Curt's engine had bludgeoned its way past the barrier of her stubborn sphincter, the pain in Isabel's rectum subsided to a bearable level. Then the two cocks actually began to rub together through the elastic membrane as well as in both her agitated apertures. Her senses reeled at the multi-faceted sensuality assaulting her.
Isabel almost bit her tongue as she felt a quick flurry of movement from Ralph underneath her as the hot throb of his sperm shot into her gaping maw. Her behind went into a sudden, uncontrolled little dance as she unexpectedly came herself and gushed madly all over her husband's quivering lance. She moaned in delight still tinged with shame. She was inwardly stricken at the realization that Curt had not only felt her orgasm, but had in fact helped to trigger it.
Curt's thick cock was stimulated by the contractions of Isabel's pussy which induced sympathetic squeezing activities in her sphincter. He plunged into her blubbery-feeling rectum while he built up a head of steam that was relieved only when he shot jet after jet of boiling come into her distended interior. "Agggrrrhhh!" he roared mightily. His back ached with the effort he put into drenching her anal area.
Isabel was still making tentative small flirting movements of her hips when Curt pulled out with an audible sucking sound. The raped anal ring snapped to like a trout on a May fly. A trickle of sperm emerged from its reddened center and oozed down a plump white thigh.
Curt backed away on his knees, glanced down at Isabel's welted croup, and grinned. She was prostrate on Ralph's chest, her head buried in his neck. Her husband's hands stroked her back and gently kneaded the upper slopes of her handsome behind. Curt slipped from the bed and began to dress.
When he was ready, the tableau on the bed had changed in only one respect. Dr. Ralph Fairbanks was moving rapidly under his wife once again with a visibly renewed erection.
Curt Sylvester laughed.
He tossed the pictures of himself and Isabel on the floor beside the bed before glancing at his watch.
If he hurried, he might just manage to catch Geraldine Kearns when she was leaving her assignation with her dentist.
That could be extremely interesting.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Curt Sylvester said to the pair on the bed as he started for the bedroom doorway.
He was sure they didn't even hear him.
Bobby Maxwell escorted Cindy Gaynor up the back stairs of the bakery and opened the door to his room. Cindy looked around curiously at the small space. There were dark shadows under her eyes, but she was being determinedly cheerful. Bobby's face was marked by healing cuts and bruises.
He opened her handbag and removed a stiff-feeling sheet of parchment with a legal seal upon it. "What are you going to do with our marriage certificate?" Cindy asked.
"I'm gonna tack it up outside the door so's everyone will know we've got a license to screw," he told her.
"You'll do nothing of the kind!" Cindy said, blushing. She snatched the certificate away from him and returned it to her bag.
"We'll have a real honeymoon as soon as I get straightened out," he promised. "An' I'm sorry the bed is so narrow."
"A girl can make do with a narrow bed," she said demurely. "In some circumstances."
"Don't you mean in some positions?"
Her blush deepened. "Why do I feel so strange with you now after all the things we've done together, Bobby?"
"Do you think it could be because you're about to be fucked by your legal husband for the first time?"
She placed a finger over his lips. "You're going to have to watch that kind of talk when we go to live with mother until you find a good job," she warned.
"You don't suppose your mother is allergic to creaking bedsprings, do you? That would be terrible."
"You're the one who's terrible," she retorted. She nestled her blonde head on her husband's shoulder. "But I feel so good, Bobby. Honestly. So good."
He hugged her, rocking her slender but firmly curved young body to and fro. "Turn up that little pink plaything, baby," he whispered in her ear. "From the feel of things inside my pants, I'm gonna split your zipper."
Cindy stood quietly while he removed her dress.
Monica Simpson drew a sobbing breath and stared up at the ceiling. She was suspended by bound wrists from the top of the bathroom door, an arm on either side of its narrow wedge. Her wrists were cushioned by a pillow heavily taped across the top edge of the door. Waist high, another pillow was taped in place covering the edge of the door against which she hung like a side of beef.
The doubled-up belt whistled through the air and cracked loudly upon her scarlet buttocks. "Ohhh, Jesus!" she begged as the white-hot flame scalded her bare seat. Her legs climbed slowly until all her weight was suspended from her bound wrists while her pussy rubbed furiously against the pillow which kept the door from scratching her. Slowly she put her feet down on the floor again. "Ohhh, God, Pete," she sobbed, "my ass! You're burning ... it up!"
The burly man standing with belt in hand took a drag on his cigarette, glanced at the second hand on his watch, and swung the belt again. Monica again yelped, her buttocks puckering in a convulsed shudder as her legs once more performed their climbing action and her cunt writhed frantically against the pillow.
When her trembling legs descended and her feet again touched the floor, the burly man stepped forward and lifted her down from the door. She dropped to her knees in front of him as he unbound her wrists. The room air felt chilly upon her cherry-red behind as she unzipped his trousers. "Oh, God, I want it!" she whispered feverishly. "Let me get it nice and big, Pete!"
Her shining chestnut hair moved in closely against the front of his thighs and settled there.
Isabel and Ralph Fairbanks sat on the edge of the bed in the manse's master bedroom. It was time for their usual mid-week session, and the shades were drawn as usual. Little else was the same, however.
Two lamps were on in the bedroom as husband and wife sat nude, holding hands. Isabel's arm circled Ralph's waist while his right hand toyed with' the nipple of a springy, velvety breast. Isabel's head was inclined slightly so she could see her husband's penis slowly lengthening in his lap.
After a moment he removed her arm, took hold of her waist, and urged her body first sideways and then face downward over his lap. Isabel relaxed while Ralph alternately stroked, patted, and lightly pinched her magnificent white orbs from which the recent weals had vanished, but upon which stripes were still visible.
She moved her bottom slowly in graceful rotation as her husband played with it. In contrast to her previous attitude, she felt she couldn't show him enough of herself now. He removed a hand covering one hind cheek to stare intently at the whole of his wife's buttock area. "Lovely," he said softly. "I hope to be dazzled by it more often in the future, my dear. Perhaps not at the breakfast table-"
"Why not?" she asked recklessly, turning over on his lap to look up at him.
They exchanged smiles, and she widened her thighs obligingly when he dipped a finger into her pussy. She sighed deeply. "How am I ever going to learn to be the wife you deserve, Ralph?" she asked with a touch of apprehension.
"We will learn together," he said firmly. "Enjoyably, I'm sure." His finger was out of sight inside his wife's fleshy grotto. "We've earned something better, Isabel, and we're going to have it."
Dr. Ralph Fairbanks picked up his nude wife bodily and settled her on her back in the center of the bed.
She breathed a sigh of thankfulness as she raised her bottom to receive the pillow her husband placed beneath it, and then she held up her arms to enfold him.