Chapter 3
Henry Kilmer walked through the corridors of his school unaware of the advancing figure. She timed her steps as perfectly as she could because Judy Locke was a determined general. For the past three months this thin red stressed girl of seventeen had intended to "accidentally" rendezvous with her shy, intended victim. Today, she would be sure that she did not miss. This time she would make certain that she was able to break through his defenses. She had armed herself with all the necessary equipment. Her high stiletto heeled shoes pointed out of her clinging, tight jeans. Her halter top revealed every ripple of her taut, flat tummy. Her small, firm breasts peered their cleavage from the top of their tight harness. Her straight, dark hair was pulled atop her head, which shown off her magnificent blue eyes.
Her supple rear swayed rhythmically as she bounced toward her meeting. Her movement was timed just right and her right elbow met his left hip perfectly and her books sprayed about the hallway.
The shock of their impact woke Henry from his daydream.
"Oh!" he exclaimed as he bent to retrieve her fallen text books. "I can't believe that I was so clumsy. I didn't even see you coming. I hope that you're alright. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please accept my apology." his words leapt from his mouth in a rapid fire delivery.
Judy just shook her head, relieving Henry immediately from the burden of guilt that he was feeling.
"No, I'm alright. I hate to sound like your mother, but you really should watch where you're going." Judy felt a slight pang of remorse as those words dripped from her red lips, but like the talented huntress she was, she continued to ensnare her prey.
"Aren't you Henry Kilmer?" she asked, quite aware of the answer to her question.
"Yes, I'm Henry Kilmer." he answered, curious to where this girl had learned his name.
"I thought so." she stated as she joined Henry in the task of gathering up her fallen books. "I think that we're in two classes together this term." she delivered flawlessly, noting that the weeks of practice in front of her bedroom mirror had allow herself to hone her speeches.
"Really? I must confess that I haven't noticed you."
Judy thought that she had made a mistake in her selection of a man.
"But I really should have noticed someone that looked as beautiful as you do." Henry complimented.
"Why thank you, kind sir." she smiled as they stood with her fallen books now gathered in her hands. She hadn't selected him poorly, after all. She was pleased with the way she was handling the situation.
"Well, maybe we'll bump into one another again sometime." Henry offered as he turned to leave.
Judy sensed her prey was escaping.
"Are you through for the day?" she asked secure in his answer.
"Yes. I was just about to go home."
"If you don't have any plans to meet someone or anything, I'll walk part of the way with you." she said as her free arm wrapped around his.
Henry was taken aback by the boldness of her advances, but he felt that this girl offered him no threat. They exited the school with Judy's arms firmly secured to his. They talked about school and she remarked that he was the only boy that she had ever met that had enjoyed it. He explained that the pace of schooling was much different here than in the bigger cities and that he welcomed the opportunity to learn something and have time for information to sink in, rather than rushing to the next item on the teacher's calendar.
Judy thought to herself that she had finally met a boy that even her mother would like. Polite, studious, shy, just what her mother thought that she needed. A boy that she could one day mold into the perfect husband, just what her mother had done with her father.
Henry found that they had walked almost all the way back to his house when he noticed how far they had come.
"Hey! Where do you live? I've lead you back to my house. I hope that you haven't been led out of your way."
"You're leading me just where I want to go," she wanted to say. Instead, she offered, "No, I don't live very far from here. I'm really surprised that we haven't run into one another before today." they both laughed as the words, "run into," came from her mouth.
"Yeah. Well, I had better be off now. Maybe we’ll see each other on the way to school." Henry stated as he was too insecure to advance any other words that might subject him to a rejection.
"You can count on it. Henry, since tomorrow is Saturday, I was wondering if you're busy in the afternoon? If you wanted to you could come to my house with your books and maybe we could study together, or something." she offered.
"Well, I'm not just sure ... "
"Come on. Don't be afraid, I don't bite." she said, leaving off, "Not unless your cock is in my mouth."
"Alright, what time should I be there?" he asked. His heart beating madly.
"Any time you want. My parents are away for the week and so well have the whole house to ourselves. It's 220 St. Anne."
"I know where that is. I’ll be over around noon." he said.
"That will be fine. 220 St. Anne, don't forget." she said, smiling that she had caught her prey.
"I'll be there." he turned from her and began walking down the path which leads to his parent's farm.
Henry's thought drifted off to the events of the day as he neared the farm's main house. It hadn't been a bad day. He received his customary A in Math and another in English. But the best came last, he had been able to talk to a girl for the first time. Until now, the only women that he could relate to was his mother. She was always so understanding of his ways. She never yelled at him. His father would often get drunk and treat her badly, but she would never think of taking it out on him. No matter what her mood, she always greeted him with a warm smile and a great big kiss.
He walked up the steps leading to the farm house and didn't notice anything funny until he reached for the knob of the door. The door was ajar and his thoughts raced to the safety of his mother. He had heard of a rapist in the area and he knew what a welcome catch his mother would be to a man like that. He did not even want to think about it.
Henry raced into the house and called his mother's name, "Mother, Susan, Mother." he called, but his frightened cries received no reply.
Perhaps she was outside and his fears were incorrect. He would look like an idiot to his father when they would surely walk in together after work. The fear of possible over-reaction calmed Henry. He would go up to his room for awhile and wait for his mother's return. He was suddenly sure that the door being left open was no more ominous than a back firing auto. As he climbed the stairs leading to his room, he thought that he heard his mother's muffled voice coming from behind her closed doors. He was certain that he had erred until he heard her weak voice again.
"Mother, is that you?" he asked, again becoming concerned for her safety.
When his question went unanswered, he decided to knock on the door. His soft knock pushed the unlocked door open. Henry gazed at her figure of his beautiful mother's nude figure bound by a leather belt to the bed and his heart nearly stopped beating.
He raced to her aid and couldn't help from noticing the angry black and blue welts that colored her blood stained rear. He unfastened the belt that secured her nude form and drew a sheet over her body.
Susan Kilmer raised herself into her son's arms and the sheet slipped from her breasts. Henry noticed the outline of a huge handprint covering the nipples of her large tits.
Susan wept openly into her son's chest.
"Henry, I'm so glad that you're finally home. I was left here for six hours." she managed to state in between her tears.
"Mom, what happened to you?" Henry asked as he tried unsuccessfully to divert his eyes from her breasts.
Inspite, or possibly due to their manhandled condition, Henry found his mother's boobs to be hypnotizing. The darkened hands surrounded her rich, red nipples making Henry secretly wish that those were his hands.
"I was attacked."
"By whom. Who could have done this to you? We should call the police."
The word "police" conjured up visions of the headline that would blaze in tomorrow's newspaper:
HUSBAND BUGGERS UNFAITHFUL WIFE
What could be gained by calling the police. They would end up thinking that she just got what she deserved. Maybe her husband would even end up some kind of a hero and she might even be considered a whore by these backward old biddies that inhabited the town.
"No, we won't call the police. I would be too ashamed to admit to what happened to the police. I could never stand the embarrassment of telling a stranger what happened."
"But Mom, whoever did this to you should be punished." Henry argued as his mother continued to cry into his now wet shirt.
"They'd never catch him. You know the way these things work. He gets away, and I have to live with the shame of everyone knowing what happened to me," she stated sincerely.
"Alright. Whatever you think is best." Henry said as he heard his voice drop. "But what will you tell father?"
"Don't worry. Do you think that you could help me into the bath? I have to wash."
Henry supported his mother as she weakly rose off the bed. Her ass was severely sensitive and Susan nearly blacked out from the pain of resting her full weight upon her bottom. Her son lifted the bed sheet to her as he helped her advance toward the bath.
With his mother's full weight being supported by his one arm, they entered the bathroom and Henry switched on the light. The warm glow of the 150 watt bulb provided Henry with the full measure of the violation that his mother had received. As she leaned against the wall while he turned on the tap, the bed sheet fell off her beaten body. Henry viewed his mother's exquisite, nude body for the first time. Against the white walls of the bathroom tile, he saw her ravaged breasts and welted stomach. Somehow, the acts of violence done to her made her even more sensual.
When the warm water had filled the tub, Henry advanced toward his mother. For the first time Henry's eyes fixed upon her pussy. If this was the first one that he was to see, then her pussy was going to be the greatest one of them all, this was the mold that all of them would be that one that all the other's would have to live up to. The blonde hairs of her twat formed a triangle which pointed directly to her snatch. Henry felt slightly guilty about thinking of his mother in this way, but her presence, lowering herself into the tub, wiped away all feelings of guilt.
Susan sank into the heated liquid and her wounds ached. The warm fingers of the water enveloped her as Henry gently soaped her bare back. Tenderly, he rubbed the soap into her. Susan began to calm herself as the thoughts of her husband's brutal assault vanished from her mind. Now, she was in her tub and gentle, lovingly warm hands caressed away her moments of terror. Who could worry as her son's hand massaged ever widening circles on her easing back.
Up her spine and down to her sore bottom his hands roamed on their mission of mercy. Henry had worked up quite a lather on her back but was reluctant to do the same to her front. His mother's knowing hands lead him to her breasts.
"Be gentle. I'm very sensitive." she quietly asked as she brought her child's soapy arms to her damp nipples.
All feelings of pain had subsided as his lubricated fingers traveled to and from her rapidly erecting points. His hands began to drift more easily now as Henry's breath became noticeably deeper. He could feel a growing in his pants as the water played against her breasts, cleansing them for his eyes and revealing him to his wildest delight.
Helplessly caught up in the realm of his senses, Henry allowed his hands to drop to her pussy. The sudden action of his fingers playing with her cunt, woke Susan to the realities of the situation. She couldn't allow herself to be caught again, and this was her son.
Susan turned to her son and quietly removed his hands from her region. She lifted herself slowly from the water and softly kissed her son's cheek.
Henry suddenly became aware of what he had been doing. He hoped that his advances would not get back to his father because he would surely kill him if he knew what he had done. Henry quickly tore himself from the bathroom and ran into his room. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and he did not want to add to his mother's shame by letting, her know that he was crying.
The rapidness of his exit brought Susan to understand what her son must have gone through. In spite of herself she found her feet leading to her son's room. With only that soiled sheet to hide her nakedness from him, she quietly entered his room. She saw Henry weeping on his bed.
"Don't cry, Henry." she offered in a whisper.
"Please leave me alone. I can't believe what I just did." he shouted amongst his tears.
Susan sat next to her son on his bed. He grabbed the pillow tightly to his face to hide his shame.
"You have nothing to worry about. When you found me in shambles and you helped me to feel better, that's all. Don't feel badly, Henry. Feel glad that you could help me."
Susan saw her son's grip loosen on the pillow.
"But I touched you."
"And you made me feel good."
"But it's not right." he cried.
"Is what happened to me today, right." she asked.
He let go of the pillow and turned his wet face towards her.
"What does that have to do with what I did?" he asked, puzzled at his mother's analogy.
"I couldn't explain it to you. Trust me. What you did was not wrong."
"But ... "
Susan stopped his words with her lips. She had not intended her kiss to be anything more than a reassurance to her son, but she found that the meeting of their lips ignited something in her. Perhaps it was this utter innocence of her son as opposed to the brash violation that her husband had made her endure, but somehow, she felt that if she let her son's desire hang on the ledge, she would really do equal damage to him as her husband had done to her.
Susan brought her hand to his cheek and gently stroked his face. Their lips parted and she made certain that he saw her smiling eyes and the nod of her head. Susan brought her lips to his and they met in a simple, beautiful moment.
Henry allow his lips to part and her tongue entered his mouth. With all the tenderness that she could muster, she lead him on to the bed. She darted her tongue into his mouth and lovingly opened the snap of his pants.
"Lie still and relax." she whispered as she pulled down his zipper.
Susan reached her fingers into his pants and softly grasped his cock. She pulled it from his trousers and blew away the few dark pubic hairs that covered the head of his prick. She looked into her son's eyes and warmly delivered her loving message. She lowered her lips upon his cock and instantly noticed an upward motion of his cock. Expertly she brought her warm lips up the entire length of his growing member. She lubricated his shaft with her saliva as she brought her lips down again on his cock and to his furry balls.
She swirled the saliva around in her mouth and thoroughly enjoyed his taste. His growing meat filled her mouth as she brought her lips to the tip of his mushroom. Gently she bit his cock and Henry let out a slight whimper. Susan concentrated her sucking on the head of his shaft.
Henry felt awakened to new emotions. How could he describe these new feelings. The warmth of her throat felt like liquid velvet as she engulfed his entire manhood. Yet, when she carefully bit the tip of his prick, his entire body quivered with this sharp sensation.
Susan brought her hands to his balls. She gripped them tightly and Henry's eyes locked securely. Her fingers loosely formed around his shaft as they began to be raised and lowered onto his fully erect penis. She correlated the moving of her fingers in relation to the sucking action of her lips, expertly. She increased the speed of her sucking and she felt the first droplets of come oozing from his cock. She basked in the savory salty taste of his come, as she rolled it around her mouth.
All thought of motherhood was driven from her, as the drops of his jism swam down her throat. Henry's eyes were tightly closed and his mind flashed the pictures of what was occurring. Although he couldn't actually witness the event, his brain flashed the visions for him. He could clearly make out his mother's incredible body as she worked herself on his cock. Her face, her hair and her lips moved with the ultimate in grace, bringing him to heights that he had never seen.
Susan gripped his cock tightly around the base. She wanted to make sure that the explosion of his cock would burst like an Atom Bomb in her mouth. Restricting him in this manner would only serve to heighten his eruption.
Henry thought he would burst but something in his mother's actions prevented him from doing so. He felt his cock swell and build with waves of semen. The pain in his balls begged for release, but release was not soon in coming as she worked her lips over the sensitive head of his erection.
Bite and suck, bite and suck, she altered the movements of her mouth. She knew what she was doing to him, but she was his mother, and mother's always knew what was really best for her little boy.
Driven to the breaking point, Henry began to pant wildly. He found that he had little control of his body and that his instincts had taken over. He desperately tried to free his cock from her hands. It needed, it begged to explode. His actions only brought another bite from her teeth.
Her teeth sank into his flesh and Henry gave out with a scream. As his voice filled the room, Susan mouth moved more quickly upon his cock. Building his swelling cock to the apex, she released her gripe on his cock. Come, delicious come shot into her mouth and filled her entire oral cavity with his juices.
Henry screamed as tensions were instantly released. The mouth of his cock spat come like a fire fighter's hose. His nozzle sprayed and sprayed again. His mind flashed glorious clouds of bright color into his mind. Reds, greens, and bright yellows formed a rainbow on his horizon. He heard his voice cry aloud with the rush of jism that jet from his being.
Susan savored the last drops of his juices on her tongue. She worked hard for this and she deserved to enjoy them. She allowed them to slowly drain down her throat and she tried to follow the taste of their essence as they traveled toward her stomach. She had enjoyed what had transpired between her son and herself, it calmed her. It let her forget about what violence had been already done to her just that day and concentrate on the gentle deflowering of her son.
Henry's pulse was lessening now as his heart rate eased to a more normal pace. His eyes slowly opened and the world looked somehow different to him. It had lost its mysterious edge that he had found frightening. Somehow, he felt there was something different about himself. He felt a power had been injected into him. He wanted to tell his mother about the difference that she had made to him, but for some reason, the words did not come from his mouth. He looked at her and he reminded himself that this was his mother. But, though his thoughts were filled with confusion, he did not feel the guilt that he might have felt, but he felt closer to her than he had ever felt before. She had taught him about tenderness and sexuality, though her body was ravaged by the scars of a beast that had, no doubt, never experienced the feelings himself.
Susan rose from the bed without saying a word to Henry. She exited the room without ever looking back at her son's prone figure. She had given to him her most wonderful gift and now she had to attend to the business of dealing with her husband.
She entered her room and looked at the ugly marks that he had inflicted upon her. They were ghastly, but perhaps she could work them to her advantage. At first, she felt guilty about feeling weak and submitting to her husband, but if that was the way that he wanted to play the game, then she would gladly enter his arena and play his game.
"This time," she said to herself. "I would be his master. I will control what happens in our little game, I'll never let him get away with this ever again, he will be the one to crawl. I will be the victor."
George Kilmer sat at the local bar alone, consoling himself with a double scotch on the rocks. The first three drinks had not yet even taken affect, but he hoped that this one might cause a chain reaction.
"Fucking women." he said to no one. "Fucking women. They take your money, your house, and your cock and they give it back to you, up the asshole."
He downed half of his drink and returned the glass to the bar.
"I come home early from work and what do I find, some Spanish prick giving my wife the once over. And she was loving it. Like I don't give her enough!" he screamed as several of the other patrons turned to take notice of their brother's plight.
"But I showed her who's boss." he mumbled. "I showed her whose cock she needs."
George took another belt from his glass and down the rest of his drink.
"Left her right there." he pointed to the floor for strength. "Left her right there on the bed ... ass pointing to the sky ... begging me for more. I guess I proved my point to her."
George continued to ramble until he felt an arm touch his back. He reeled around with his eyes ablaze. It was one of his best friends and neighbors, Michael Harrington who had overheard what his pal had been saying. Michael had likewise been drinking and the two of them sat and drowned their sorrows together.
"Hey George. I heard what you said. I want to tell you something. I always thought that Manuel was up to something with my wife but I could never catch the bastard." Michael said to his friend.
"Yeah, Mike. Really? You thought that Tammy was fucking that little cocksucker!" George said almost relieved at the thought that he wasn't the only one that had been dumped on by a horny wife.
"Yeah." Michael said as he raised two fingers to order two more drinks. "It always seemed strange to me that I would catch her taking a shower in the afternoon on the days when he worked for me."
"So what did you do?"
"Nothing. Since I didn't ever catch them, I never thought that they were going at it."
"Well I caught them and if lever see that prick again ... I'll cut his balls off." George remarked with a raised fist in the air. "I'm not going to let him get away with it."
Harrington, enveloped with the rage that his friend was feeling, suggested that they might be able to find Manuel and beat some sense into him and the truth about him and Tammy out of him.
"No." George answered. "I whipped him pretty bad and I don't think that we'll be able to find him around here for quite awhile."
"Well how will I ever find out if she was unfaithful?" Michael pleaded with his friend.
"I don't know what to tell you, Mike." George confessed. "Let's have another drink."
As the two comrades down another sampling of double scotches, the effect of the liquor, combined with the rage he was feeling, yielded a perfect way for George to suggest to get the information for his friend.
"Mike, if you really want to find out if Tammy fucked that bitch, then I know one sure way to find out."
Harrington leaned over to his friend. "What's that George. I would do anything to find out the truth!"
"Anything?"
"Yes ... anything, George." his friend answered.
"The way that I taught Susan who was boss was to beat and fuck it out of her." George bragged.
"Now she really knows the way it is."
"Is that what you're suggesting I do to Tammy?" his friend asked.
"Yes." confirmed George. "You go back home and teach that bitch some manners!"
"I'm not sure that I could do that." Michael said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well what if she called the police, or something like that."
"She wouldn't do that. Besides, you’re the one that was hurt in this matter, not her." George advised.
The two friends swallowed down another drink and Michael began to see the reasoning that his friend was offering.
"You know what, George? I think that what you said just might be right," his friend stated.
"Of course it is."
"But I don't think that I could pull it off alone. Do you think that you could help me?" he asked.
"I don't know, Mike. After all, this is your wife." George confessed to the realities of the situation.
"I don't care. One cheating bitch is the same as any other to me."
"Are you sure?" George asked again. “Will it really work?"
"I was never quite sure of anything else in my life. After all, if it wasn't for you, I never would have gotten the idea." Michael praised his friend.
The two figures hoisted another round and toasted their friendship. Michael pulled his thin coat around his shoulders and the men left the bar together.
As they walked across the fields to Harrington's farm, George and his friend had to relieve themselves. As they might have done as teenagers, the two contested whose stream of piss would travel further. After deciding that George was the winner by a very narrow margin, the men again resumed their journey.
After several moments, they reached the Harrington farm. From the outside, his house resembled a carbon copy of the house that George had bought. The same two stories, the same chimney at the top, and the same picket fence surrounding its entrance. Michael opened the latch and they entered the main grounds. George followed his friend up the stairs and watched as Michael struggled to find his house keys. After several moments of fumbling around his pockets, Michael found his elusive quarry. He brought the key to the lock and inserted it into the chamber. The key turned and the lock opened. Michael turned the doorknob and the two comrades entered the house simultaneously.
They found Harrington's wife, Tammy in the kitchen trying to save the night's dinner. She was a tall beautiful woman, that looked like a goddess. Nobody would believe her right age of thirty. She was ten years younger than her husband and when they married eleven years ago, there was some concern about the differences in ages between the bride and her groom. Tammy, had made her husband a great wife. She was faithful, charming and always ready to give anything he wanted, including a blow job whenever he felt the need. In all their years of marriage she had never once strayed from her marital vows. Although she had five opportunities a day, Tammy would pride herself in the fact that she had remained true to Michael.
When her husband and his friend burst into the kitchen she turned to face them. She was trying to save a roast that she had spent three hours on. It was not like her spouse to be late, but she would forgive without a second thought.
"Hi darling." she greeted him."How was your day?" she said not even suggesting that she was upset about his tardy arrival.
"We have no time for pleasantries, bitch." Michael barked back.
Tammy sensed that something was wrong and instinctively moved away from the oven.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "Are you alright?"
"He will be soon, you fucking slut!" shouted George as he grabbed Tammy's arms, causing her to drop her ladle.
"Mike, aren't you going to stop him?" she begged as he answered her with a slap to her face.
She couldn't believe what happened.
The blow struck Tammy's face and she reasoned that this was not her husband doing this, but some evil incarnation of rage and alcohol that she smelled on their breath.
"Come on bring her upstairs, George."
They two friends carried the auburned haired women up the stairs and into the master bedroom. George threw her on the bed and Tammy resisted his attempts to rip the shirt from her chest.
As she struggled against his allies advances, Harrington had gathered up four of his old ties. They raced to the bed and grabbed the right wrist of his stricken wife. He harshly pulled her arm to the bedpost. His wife's lean arm was no match for his brutal strength and as he yanked her arm, she felt it being pulled from its socket.
He bound her wrist to the post as George fought to pin her feet. Once George had succeeded in his task, Harrington gripped his wife's left arm and fastened that to the other post.
"Now let me do her legs." he shouted.
As his friend held her down, Michael pulled the tie in a knot around her ankle. He fastened it to the post and then did the same with her remaining leg. Once this task was completed, they had his wife, bound spread-eagle to each of the posts on the bed.
Tammy looked up at her tormentors and knew that she was at their mercy.
"Mike, why have you done this to me?" she turned to face her neighbor, "George, does Susan know that you're doing this?"
"You know why we're doing this. Just like my wife knew why I did it." was George's violent reply.
That answer provided Tammy with more knowledge than she desired. If George had done this to his own wife, then how could she prevent herself from meeting a similar fate. She had to know the reason for this violent violation.
"At least tell me what I've done?" she asked.
"You fucked that Spanish prick and now we'll fuck you." was Harrington's tearful reply.
"Manuel!" she shouted. "Is this all because of him. You know that I never laid a hand on him. You must be crazy, Mike. If you'll just untie me and send your friend, the goon squad, home, I'll set you straight."
"No!" he answered."You'll only lie to save yourself. The only way that I'll let you go is for you to tell me the real truth."
"But nothing ever happened!" she exclaimed.
"Bitch!" he screamed as he tore the silk shirt from her body. "You lie and now you'll pay for it."
Harrington tore the flimsy bra off of her, revealing her round tits. The bounced slightly as Michael placed one of his knees on the bed. Swiftly, he ripped off her pants.
"No, Mike. Please!" she pleaded, helplessly.
Her pleas were answered with the sound of her panties tearing. She was in shock, how could this be happening to her.
Her furry cunt was opened to George's eyes and he realized that there could be no turning back. He watched as Tammy attempted to divert her cunt from the thrusts of her old man. Finally, her husband landed a solid blow to her face. After this, George noticed that his neighbor's wife offered no resistance to her husband’s fully erect prick. He shifted inside her box and humped her with all his strength.
"Talk bitch. Is this how Manuel did it?" he cried.
The tears running down her face was the answer that he was returned as George witnessed the wild flurry of hips, pumping Tammy's pelvis. Deeper and deeper he sank his shaft into her furry muffler. Michael grunted as he spent little time on technique, he had a mission and he was anxious to get it accomplished.
As the juices of her cunt oiled his entrances, Harrington felt little resistance to his meat. The mixture of rage had made his fucking furious. He banged her and banged her, with little regard to the disgrace that his wife was enduring in front of another man.
For her part, Tammy was rapidly losing herself in the pile driving of her cunt. With each harsh hump, the realities of what was occurring to her vanished. She no longer remembered that their actions were being witnessed by an intruder. His cock was the only reality that she really knew. The only thoughts that really filled her mind with the only reality that she needed.
George witnessed this event before. He saw Harrington fucking his wife into the same state of submission that he had seen his very own wife attain earlier in the day. He knew that it would only be moments before Tammy would melt and tell the truth to her husband. He felt that he had to be an actual physical player in these events, not just an interested bystander. He had to participate. He saw Tammy's rich lips and he pulled down his pants. His cock hung fully, as he forced it into the wife of his best friend.
Much to his surprise, Harrington found that the sight of another man's cock in his wife's throat was thrilling to witness. He timed the plunges of his meat to coincide with his friends forceful thrusts into her mouth. He could feel his cock erupting, as he tried in vain to keep it going. The jism shot from his cock and he pulled it from her cunt. The booze had had its effect upon his friend because he saw that George had just shot his first spray of come into Tammy's eyes.
"What a way to teach the bitch who is the boss!" he thought as Michael fired his come onto her face.
Tammy was coated in come as her two attackers fired their orgasmic blasts of white liquid. She was lost in waves of guilt and shame, but somehow the hot liquid made her feel great. It was as if she were the only game in town and every prick had to find her. Instinctively, she found herself opening her mouth to catch their blasts.
She loved the taste, and she knew it.
The curious mixture of their tastes, filled her mouth. She had never been unfaithful to her husband before, and now he had helped to make her do it. She had both hated him and loved him for it.
George watched as the two cocks white washed her face. Occasionally one of their blasts found their way into her mouth. He laughed as drank the last few drops of jism. He laughed to himself when he wondered if she liked the way he tasted better. He gazed at the entire situation. Tammy had a beautiful body which she had worked into terrific shape. He could count the ripples of muscles in her stomach and could see the muscles of her legs flex against the tension of the ties that fastened her. Even for the few seconds that she sucked him, he knew that this women had given him one of the best blow jobs of his life. Maybe he could get her again sometime.
"I don't think that she'll give me any more trouble, George. I want to thank you for what you did for me." Harrington stated.
"Don't worry about it my friend."