Chapter 3
Tom hummed to himself as he finished shaving. It was glorious out, just perfect for the picnic that Ingrid had planned. He knew that his wife wouldn't believe him if he said he was going to work overtime again, especially as it was Sunday afternoon and he had supposedly worked the day beforehand so he had told her that he had made a golfing date with one of the men from work. She accepted this without saying a word, although he could tell she wasn't pleased. It was the middle of the afternoon yesterday when he finally got home, and Jean had seemed to be upset about something, but when he had questioned her about it, she refused to say anything. Tom figured she must be upset over the way he'd gone to work on a Saturday, but, when he tentatively mentioned it, she had brushed the subject aside. Well, what the hell; if she wanted to keep her thoughts to herself, he certainly wasn't going to stir them up.
The unfaithful young husband could hardly wait to see his seductive secretary again. It had been hard dragging himself away from her yesterday, but he had to in order not to make his wife suspicious. He had never met anyone like Ingrid in his life, and, suddenly, he felt like a new man. Virile, attractive - feelings he hadn't experienced with Jean in a long time.
Not even in the earliest days of his marriage had he felt the surge of power that he felt after making love to Ingrid yesterday. She was all woman, and she made him feel like a complete, satisfied man.
"Will you be home for dinner?" Jean asked tonelessly, as he picked up his bag of golf clubs and headed for the front door.
"Better not plan anything, honey," he said carefully, "Al and I might grab a bite out somewhere and then have a beer later."
Jean just shrugged indifferently, and stood immobile as he gave her a salutory peck on the cheek. After he'd left, the house suddenly seemed forlorn and empty, and she drifted into the kitchen somewhat absently and began washing the morning's dishes. As she did so, she tried to control a rising sense of solitude, a growing realization that something, somewhere, was fundamentally wrong with her marriage. She knew that her husband's lack of attention and frequent absences from her, whether to work or to "go out with the boys," were only a symptom of a far deeper and more serious malaise. But, try as she might, she couldn't pinpoint the reason for what seemed to be Tom's lack of interest in her.
He was so changed lately, she had to assume it was his promotion and the extra pressure of his work. Even this golf date this afternoon -before he was promoted, he never did anything like that.
Oh well, she sighed to herself, its all part of being an executive, and being alone all the time is part of being an executive's wife!
She wondered how she was going to fill her afternoon. She had thought of driving to the park and taking a long walk there, but the knowledge that she would feel utterly left out when she saw all the couples there made her decide not to. She knew that she had to find something to occupy all the lonely afternoons and evenings she was sure to be spending alone from now on, at least until Tom's position was firmly secured on the executive ladder. They had both known when he took this particular job and applied himself to his field, that there were sacrifices that would have to be made, but adding everything up, they had agreed that it was worth it. Now Jean wondered if they had been foolish. After all, the best years of Tom's life were being spent climbing painfully rung by rung up that ladder, while she was left at the bottom, ready to either catch him when he fell, or climb up after him when he reached the security of the upper rungs. But Jean was slowly learning that, for her, material benefits did not compensate for emotional paucity.
The train of Jean's thoughts was halted by a knock on the kitchen door, and she turned, wondering who it could be. The sun reflecting on the wire mesh of the screen door made it difficult to see who it was, and then Jean recognized young Randy Webb, her gardener, remembering at the same time his promise to return to finish cutting the yard.
"Oh Randy, come on in, I'm just finishing up the dishes," the young housewife said, wiping her hands, on the dish towel at the same time. "I didn't expect you to come on a beautiful afternoon like this."
"Oh, yes'm, if I promise a thing, then I do it."
Randy wandered into the kitchen, glancing around him as he did so, taking in the brightly new kitchen appliances and the freshly scrubbed floor. Boy, he thought to himself, this sure is a hell of a lot different from my place.
"Did you get that lawnmower fixed?" the husky teenager said aloud, noticing at the same time that Mrs. Lincoln was even more sexy than she'd been two days before, even though she had more clothes on. Now she was wearing a pair of really tight shorts, and a kind of neck thing that just barely came down to cover her tits. Jesus Christ, what he wouldn't do to get a hold of those two nipples and twist them right off!
"Yes, I took it in yesterday afternoon, and they fixed it right away, just like you said." Jean folded the towel and set it on the towel rack, turning back to the boy just in time to see him avert his eyes guiltily from her bare midriff. She realized with amusement that he must have been looking at her breasts. Boys! she laughed to herself. Well, I suppose they all start getting ideas sometime.
"I thought you were going to the beach yesterday afternoon," Randy said, abruptly turning his eyes back to her as though chiding himself for being such a kid.
"Yes .. . well, we didn't go. My husband, uh .. . "
"Stood up, huh? By your own husband?" Randy's voice was more confident now, assured.
"Well... yes, yes I suppose you could say that." Jean tried to keep her voice light, even though the memory of how her picnic had been ruined the day before by Tom's thoughtlessness still upset her. Then she noticed the odd way the young boy was staring at her as she answered, and suddenly grew confused. "Uhhhh . .. well, are you ready to get to work?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
Was she mistaken, or did Jean detect a note of suggestiveness in his voice. No, it wasn't possible, she reassured herself. After all, she was almost twice his age!
"Well, the lawnmower is out in the garage, you know where." Jean turned back to the sink, but then became aware of the fact that Randy hadn't moved. "Well?" she asked, turning back to him, put slightly off balance by his familiar grin.
"Yeah, right," the blonde headed youth replied, going to the door and then turning, a strangely meaningful look in his blue eyes. "And maybe later, when I get hot, you could give me another Coke or something, O.K.?"
"Yes, all right. Yes."
And then he was gone, sauntering out the screen door and turning off the patio in the direction of the garage. Jean was nonplussed. Something in the way he had looked at her struck an unpleasant cord deep inside her, and she couldn't explain what it was. And then she thought of it: It was the same feeling she used to have when she worked the fashion shows as a model, when men buyers would look at her in a particular way, as if to say, "I know you're a model, baby, and what else?" Jean had always felt like shouting back at these leering men that just because she had a good figure and was a model didn't mean that she was as loose as some of the other girls were. And now, in her own kitchen, something in the way young Randy Webb had looked at her gave her the same reaction. Why?
Jean had always considered Randy as nothing more than a young kid who came over once every two weeks to cut the lawn. But she realized, as she thought about it, that the teenager's eyes, as he had looked at her just now, were not the eyes of a boy. No, not even those of an adolescent. They were the cold, almost calculating eyes of the men twenty years his senior who had come to the fashion shows when she was a model!
Jean looked out the window, to where Ranoy had gotten the lawnmower from the garage and was preparing to start it. Suddenly she noticed his manly build, saw the muscles that made him seem from a distance more like an athlete in his twenties than the youngster she'd considered him. And then she remembered the emphasis he'd put in his question about her husband not going to the beach with her, and also the special tone he'd given his request for a Coke later. Almost as though he was demanding it, rather than asking. And was it only her imagination which suddenly saw a lewd suggestiveness in his phrase, "When I get hot?"
OH, this is crazy, the housewife suddenly laughed to herself. What am I thinking about? Randy is a boy, and I'm almost old enough to be his mother, give or take a few years. Don't be a silly little ass, Jean Lincoln!
And with that, she turned back to her chores, the first of which was to rescrub her shiny kitchen floor. As she began to work, she heard the roar of the lawnmower outside, and looked outside to see Randy beginning to push it through the jungle of her backyard. She watched him outline a square of mown grass around the yard, and then begin to follow it in, pushing easily through the tangle of three-inch grass. And she looked up again when he passed to notice that he'd taken his shirt off, revealing the mature physique he was so proud of.. . and almost every time he came around, she took a moment to just glance out the kitchen window, to gaze at the handsome sixteen year old and laugh at herself for taking his youthful admiration of her as a threat, to laugh and to feast her eyes unconsciously on his magnificent young body.
Jean's sidelong, sometimes unconscious stares out her kitchen window were not lost on the young Randy Webb, however. On the contrary, he made certain to check the window out of the corner of his eye each time he passed it, and almost always he found the beautiful Mrs. Lincoln standing there, obviously looking in his direction. The very thought excited Randy so much that he could hardly keep mowing the grass. He could feel a steady hardening of his physically mature cock in his blue jeans, which he could only control by pushing the lawnmower faster and faster through the heavy grass. Christ! He'd thought maybe Mrs. Lincoln was interested in him, or at least thought he was good looking. But then he'd gone home and chided himself for imagining things. Even though he'd lain awake for two nights dreaming of really socking it to his voluptuous employer, still he hadn't really been able to make himself believe that his thoughts had been anything more than the fanciful flights of his over-active imagination. And yet, here she was, not even able to take her eyes off him while he was working!
Randy knew he'd taken quite a chance by being so forward in the kitchen, talking about her husband like that, and giving her that sexy come-on. Well, what the hell! He had to find out didn't he? And it looked like he'd been right before, that she really might open up to him if he played his cards right. It was a good thing he'd had a couple of beers to calm himself down over at his friend's house before coming over this afternoon, or else he'd be so excited he'd be cumming in his pants right now!
The sun burned down on the husky teenager's back, doing nothing to relieve him of his mounting excitement. His imagination had already taken him where in reality he might fear to go, and by the time he had finished the yard, he was fully convinced that Jean Lincoln was as hot for him as he was hot for her. Of course, it was only his imagination, fueled by Jean's unawareness of his sexually mature attitudes, but the fact remained that the lawnmower flew around the Lincoln's yard, and inside of thirty minutes, the mower was shut off and Randy was standing at the kitchen door, breathing hard and sweating profusely.
"Well, ma'am, all done!" Jean looked up from where she was cleaning under the refrigerator, and said with surprise: "So soon?"
"Yes, Mrs. Lincoln," Randy grinned, still standing outside the door. "I guess I was just looking forward to that beer you promised me."
Jean stood up, and then smiled. "You mean Coke, don't you?"
"Naw, I'll take a beer if you don't mind," Randy said, coming in the back door and throwing himself into a chair at the kitchen table.
"Well, I don't know, Randy," Jean began. "I don't think you're quite old ... "
"Aw, Mrs. Lincoln, I been drinking beer for years. I even drink it with my Dad. Besides, it's hot as hell out there, and I deserve some kind of reward for finishing up so fast, don't I?"
Jean felt strangely intimidated by this young boy's brash self-assuredness, but she rationalized her way out of the problem by accepting what he told her at face value. After all, if he was allowed to drink beer at home .. .
"Well, all right. Just this once ..." She took one beer out of the refrigerator, and then two, "I guess I'll join you. It is getting hot, isn't it?" "Yes, ma'am. It sure is," Randy grinned broadly, took the can she offered, and tilted his head back to let the cool liquid pour down his throat. He smiled to himself as he continued to chug the beer, knowing that Mrs. Lincoln couldn't fail to be impressed by this little trick that always dazzled the girls in his housing project. When he'd finished, he banged the can down on the table, looked at Jean to see her surprise, and then quickly moved to the refrigerator himself.
"That's all right," he said quickly, taking a beer and opening it in one motion. "I'll get this one." His head whirled a little from the beer's effect on his over-heated body, and he almost stumbled coming back to the table.
"Now wait a minute, Randy. I don't remember saying you could have two." Jean's voice was strident, almost like a mother chastising her young son. The tone of voice was not lost on Randy.
"What do you think? I'm not old enough or something?" Randy steadied himself with his hand on the table. "I bet I could out-drink you any day. And your husband, too."
Jean started to protest again, but stopped as Randy again tilted the can to his mouth, and began swallowing the alcohol in great quantities. He chugged the beer until he thought his lungs would pop, but he didn't care. He would show this older woman that he wasn't some kid or something! He was somebody that she better watch out for, that's what!!
He only finished his beer three-quarters of the way before he had to quit, again banging his hand down on the table and spilling most of the rest of the can's contents over the table. He stared at the frothy pool, his breath coming in gasps, and tried to stop his head from whirling around and around. He felt so dizzy he could hardly sit up straight, and it made him angry; made him feel weak in the presence of this older woman. What if she thought he couldn't hold his liquor? What if she thought he was just a punk kid trying to impress her or something? Why wouldn't his goddamned head stop spinning?!!!
"I .. . I ... saw," he began. What was he trying to say? He knew, but the words didn't come through his gasping breathing.
"Randy, are you all right?" Jean was suddenly worried, not only for him, but also she was suddenly aware of the terrible anger he was feeling, and the violence in him which she'd never seen before. The motherly concern in her voice, though, was the worse reaction she could have had. It drew his attention like a red cape draws bulls.
"I saw you .. . looking at me through the window," the muscular teenager managed, turning his cold eyes on the beautiful older housewife, raking her voluptuous body with them, taking in every curve of her abundant succulent breasts and smoothly tanned thighs. Now was the time, he thought to himself drunkenly. Now was the time to make his move before he lost control of himself!
"I don't know what you mean, Randy ..." Jean answered, more than a little frightened as she saw the same gaze which she used to associate with the older men looking at her, but which was coupled now with a youthful violence that was beginning to terrify her.
"Oh, I think you do," Randy went on, standing up suddenly and almost losing his balance, catching himself on the table and straightening up quickly with a silent curse. "I think you know what I mean . .. baby."
Jean listened to the slurring of his speech, and saw the eerie look in his shining eyes. She experienced a tremor of fear as she stared at him, unable to believe that this was the same boy who had walked in her kitchen door, Desperately, she tried to keep her voice steady and maintain a semblance of calm self-control. It was ridiculous: The last five minutes had played like a fast-action film, with unbelievable transformation coming over the obviously excited boy.
"Randy, I think you'd better leave. You've had a little too much to drink, and-"
"I have not had too much to drink!" Randy yelled with fierceness in his eyes. And then his voice grew softer. "Whatsa matter . . . doncha want me around, Mrs. Lincoln? You were thinking something different when you were watching me out that window, I bet!"
"Randy, I'm warning you. Please go right now, or I'll call the police!" Her urgent warning only seemed to spur the teenager into sudden action. His hand reached out swiftly and gripped the startled wife, and Jean stiffened as the boy's strong fingers tightened around her shoulder, his surprising strength and the cold threatening expression in his icy blue eyes evoking a sudden stab of panic in her stomach. Events were crowding too fast on her harried consciousness and shivers of terror coursed through her as he suddenly propelled her backwards up off the kitchen chair.
"Get your hands off me!" she suddenly shouted, but her cold command only infuriated the teenager, and he raised his hand, slapping her brutally across the face.
"Don't tell me what to do," he stormed, his speech slurred from the effects of chugging two beers, "you think I'm just a kid .... but I'll show you that I'm a man!" Glaring fiercely at the suddenly frightened Jean, who was trembling from the jarring impact of his blow, he pushed her suddenly through the kitchen doorway and into the living room, and then against the sofa, unbalancing her and sending her sprawling across the soft deep cushions.
"Leave me alone. .. please get away from me!" Jean pleaded desperately, all pretense of superiority and authority dropped. She was frankly terrified of this single-minded assault on her by this muscular youth. Oh God, she sobbed silently, what does he want with me?
Randy slowly forced the overpowered woman's arm back beyond her head and stretched his rangy muscular body over her softly trembling figure. He clamped his hungry lips over her ripely inviting mouth, digging his tongue against her defiantly-set teeth, forcing it hard into the sweet moist cavity of her mouth.
Her stomach churning from shock, Jean lay motionless under his clenched and restraining grip, her brain screaming alarm, flooding the intricate channels and nerves of her body with adrenalin. She had to get away from his maddened assault!
Suddenly, with a bound of unforeseen strength, she jerked away from him and ran, her heart pounding with terror, darting into the bedroom. Awkwardly, she fumbled with the lock, her numbed fingers frantically grasping the bolt that would shut him out, that would give her time to reach the bedside phone and call the police. She could hear his footsteps crashing towards her as she pushed the small stubborn piece of hardware. Dear God, she begged inwardly, If I can only get this damned thing shut!
In the space of another second, the limber youth had reached the door and was forcing it relentlessly open with his sturdy shoulder!
"Not so fast, Mrs. Lincoln," he leered as he pushed the door fully open and grabbed the frantic housewife.
Randy laughed, a coarse victorious chuckle as he roughly shoved her down on the big double bed.
"You're gonna stay put this time!" he spat, squeezing her painfully against the bedclothes. "Don't move a muscle, you cock-teasing bitch, or I'll beat the shit out of you!!" His voice was cold with rage, his steel-blue eyes boring into her frightened and contorted face. She moaned with fright as his hand began to fumble with the thin protection of her very brief halter top. She wanted to stop him, to push his hand away, but she was too afraid, too terrified of arousing the seething anger that lay under his cool adolescent exterior.
With a quick, sharp tug, he ripped away the sash of her halter and violently pulled off the confining fabric of her short shorts, exposing to his diabolical lust-inflamed gaze the lovely sculpted contours of her voluptuous body, completely naked but for a flimsy string of white nylon bikini pants. A low gasp of excitement came from the drunken youth's throat as Jean tried ineffectually to cover her suddenly exposed breasts. She looked so fabulous! Until this moment, all his sexual experience had been with immature, adolescent girls or baggy prostitutes, and his dazed brain blazed at the sight of the softly fleshed mounds of her erotically full breasts, the glossy firm roundness of her magnificent thighs rising to the sensual flare of her silky smooth hips. His eyes riveted on the enticing blonde crevice of her panty-clad pubic mound, and his mouth hung open as his breath pumped raggedly in and out of his heaving young chest. The boy was almost out of his mind with rampaging desire and his fiery cock was a jumping and aching hardness between his tensed legs, straining the rough fabric of his tight jeans. Hurriedly his hands opened the buttons of his fly, allowing his already rigid penis to spring free in the cool air of the bedroom, thrusting itself, upright with proudly assertive desire from the wiry thatch of his pubic hair. His still thickening member was sending sharp and urgent impulses to his sex-crazed brain, urging him to hurry, to answer the clamorous demands of his raging lust. This older woman's body was even more sensually exciting than he'd expected. Seeing her lying there nakedly trembling before him filled him with a wild sense of male power: A grown woman, scared to death of him! She was nearly old enough to be his mother, and Randy felt a sudden wicked thrill as he savored the fact that she was a married woman as well, supposedly completely out of his reach! Yes, when he first saw this luscious piece so cool and unapproachable in her fancy home, he never dreamed he could get the best of her so quickly . . . and what a woman! he thought exultantly. He gazed down with drunken satisfaction at his massive erection poling obscenely out from the open "vee" of his fly, and smiled happily to himself. With a rush, he finished undressing.
Jean gave a low and frightened whimper of fear as she felt Randy's strong young hand slide firmly between the quivering columns of her tightly clenched legs, and then felt him push relentlessly upward, forcing apart her tender inner thighs, thrusting his fingers aggressively under the elastic ridge of her bikini panties to graze momentarily against the curling tendrils of her pussy hair.
"Noooooo! Noooooo!" Jean screamed with undisguised horror, recoiling as though she had just been stung. She ground her panty-protected buttocks down into the softness of the bed in futile retreat from his roughly invading hand.
"Hold still, bitch!" he barked at her, his other hand shooting out to deliver another brutal slap against her tear-stained face.
Jean lay back numbly, unresisting now, her eyes brimming with tears, staring vacantly ahead. She was excruciatingly aware of Randy's forceful hands grasping the sensitive inner surface of her long legs, but there was nothing she could do about it. Her fear of this brutal young thug and what he would do to her had mastered her and she wanted only to escape the throbbing pain of his blows. She was desperately afraid of rousing his temper further, of provoking something she sensed in him, a bestially uncompromising anger. She stared unseeingly at his massive cock which was balanced obscenely between her splayed legs. She was willing her brain to lose itself into oblivion, to ignore the unthinkably lewd assault that was taking place right in her own neat, familiar bedroom.
A long violent tremor shot through her as she felt her young tormentor's fingers grazing once more against the palpitating nylon-covered mound of her vaginal hair. Shudders spasmed through her terrified body as she felt his fingers grasp the flimsy elastic waistband of her panties, and then a wave of sheer unmitigated horror crashed over her as Randy, with a quick powerful tug, ripped the gossamer veil of protective fabric right off her cringing loins, with one swift brutal gesture, destroying the last barrier of her defense against his violent assault. A cold shudder of nausea swept through her - this just wasn 't happening! It just couldn 't be!
Her widening eyes focused on him and she really saw clearly for the first time the huge hardness of his lewdly swollen cock, poised at the entrance to her vulnerable vaginal depths. It was so hard, so furiously erect, so frighteningly obscene!
A lewd pornographic image of herself dazzled her mind, blinding her rational thought; how she must look, naked and flat on her back, spread-eagled under this youth's purplish and upraised penis, her most private flesh exposed to the lascivious attentions of a complete stranger!
She could feel the blood in her veins chill as she saw him guiding the angry red length of his desire-hardened penis towards the trembling little opening to her body, the blood-swollen tip parting her blonde pubic hair, and then, without hesitation, surging forward as he flexed his hips, driving hard up into her unprepared cunt, sinking his pulsating thickness almost to the hilt in her tenderly stretched vaginal entrance!
"AAARRGGGGHHHHH .. . !" she groaned helplessly as her agonized legs splayed and kicked out futilely on either side of the youth's lean young body.
For a long moment, during which Jean thought she'd die from the agonizing pain, Randy held it there, savoring the wildly exciting sensation of feeling his virile young penis sunk at last into the older woman's heatedly resisting vaginal depths. Then he clenched his teeth and, cupping the trembling mounds of her soft firm buttocks in his hard palms, he shoved forward, groaning savagely, forcing his long rangy cock all the way to the hilt in Mrs. Lincoln's sorely bruised cuntal passage.
"OOOHHHHHHH ... OH GOD. YOU'RE KILLING ME .. . STOP! STOP!" she wailed, sobbing piteously, twisting her body in a vain attempt to escape the desire-hardened mass of his impaling member buried agonizingly in her soft interior.
The full shock of her lewdly humiliating position came home to her, the bottomless degradation and shame of lying helplessly in her own bed, her intimate depths filled by the obscene hardness of a young boy's penis, a boy who was almost young enough to be her son! The twisted and bizarre quality of this outrage seemed to inflame her agonized brain and destroy the last reservoir of her resistance. This young teenage boy was actually raping her right here in her own bedroom! She would never be able to live down this horrible lewd attack on her private self. How could she ever regain her self-respect after this cruel ravishment of her body? And she had only herself to blame! She was almost twice his age, and yet she had brought him into her house, given him some beer, and when he made sexual advances toward her, she had been too confident of her ability to resist him. It was her own fault entirely that she had stumbled into this hopeless mire of sexual depravity. She felt depressed and frightened, full of self-loathing and pain from the granite intrusion of Randy's impossibly hard thick cock that flexed itself deep in the buffeted and resisting walls of her aching cunt. There was no stopping him, and there was nothing she could do but accept the obscene rape of her helplessly pinned body. Randy slowly withdrew the lengthy glistening column of his submerged penis, pulling against her reluctantly clinging sheath, leaving only the lust-bloated head still buried firmly in her violated vagina.
Jean moaned involuntarily as her tortured cuntal walls closed behind his painful withdrawal, but her relief was only momentary as Randy, arching his back, his eyes blazing with uncontrolled lust, abruptly slammed his blood-engorged shaft back up into her cringing vaginal mouth, far up into her tortured little belly, smashing the inflamed head against her tender cervix. He crammed the full length of his lust-distended member into her defenseless body in one brutal stroke, his dangling balls slapping against the smooth naked cheeks of her quavering buttocks.
Viciously he withdrew, pulling his heavy bloated shaft out with agonizing abruptness, and then smashed immediately into her again, maintaining a powerful sawing rhythm in and out of the protesting flesh of her futilely struggling cunt. With mounting excitement, he thrust into her, flogging her bruised vaginal lips with the harsh impact of his pubic bone, twisting and stretching the sensitive walls of her vagina and wringing the first reluctant drops of moisture from the battered passage of her pain-wracked cunt.
"Oh Christ, ooohhhhh ..." he gasped as his bulging eyes followed the progress of the long hard length of his glistening cock, moist now from her unwilling secretions, pistoning into her soft blonde pubic triangle. His eyes widened as he gaped at the raggedly pink flanges of the protective folds of flesh around her writhing pussy, drawing back with each outstroke, then being swallowed in again as he drove forward with a relentless pumping rhythm into her helplessly servile body.
His driving male hardness seemed to fill every recess of her violently agitated body. His lust-inflated cock expanded stroke by stroke, seeming to stretch the clamped walls of her burning sheath, whipping her battered genitals into a tingling mass of throbbing nerve-endings.
With his hands holding her down, the lust-drunken teenager kept fucking mercilessly between Jean's forced open thighs with deep hard strokes, cramming his palpitating cock to the thick hilt each time on the instroke, and then pulling it all the way out until the heavy bulbous head alone was still submerged, until at last the lining of her inner cuntal walls was flowing with the unwished-for stream of her vaginal juices.
"Aaaaggghhh! AAAaaggghhhh NO! No! No!" she moaned helplessly, her head tossing from side to side, her body aching all over from the terribly throbbing thrusts between her open legs. Her brain was dazed and reeling and her eyes stared vacantly ahead, wishing only for this terrible ordeal to be over. She was humiliated and debased beyond belief and she wished that she could be spared the terrible agony which accompanied her demoralizing humiliation. She felt she had done nothing to deserve this lewd assault on her body by a lust-demented teenager. She didn't deserve it but yet she could do nothing to prevent it. She was a helpless victim of the youth's overpowering strength and driving masculine desire.
But even as the young wife lay there, her head drubbing with disbelief, the unbelievable happened! She recognized within herself the first signs of a slow insidious betrayal of her higher moral self deep within her tortured body! Terrible as the realization was to her, a tiny flickering flame had been lit deep inside her helplessly resisting belly, and was grimly persisting, even spreading in a slowly smouldering combustion of desire within her own loins. It was terrible, unthinkable, but she was beginning to feel a kind of hotly primitive urge building deep within her savagely assaulted cuntal region, a mindlessly growing but still obscured desire, a raw need that was threatening to engulf her completely!
"... Uuugggghhhnnnaaahhh ..." Randy suddenly groaned, a sudden vibrant thrill of delight shooting up from his wildly pistoning cock as her moist warm vaginal sheath clutched convulsively at his inflated instrument. His loud coarse groan of pleasure seemed to trigger an instinctive response in Jean as his strange young voice flooded her confused consciousness with a ripple- of lurid pleasure.'
For a long never-ending second, she wavered, teetering between reluctant tolerance and lewd submission . . . and then, helplessly, irrevocably, her love-starved body gave way to a tidal wave of lust, welling up from her heated vaginal passage. She felt herself falling, falling endlessly into a current of total surrender.
"Oooohhhh .. . yessss .. . mmmm ..." she moaned, her voice husky and distorted with passionate arousal. Her entire body was slowly undulating as she thrust her suddenly eager pelvis forward to meet the full force of her young lover's pistoning penis. Her softly quivering buttocks jiggled shamelessly with mounting excitement, and her wetly glistening lips were curled lewdly to emit breathless mewls of undiluted pleasure. Her blue eyes darkened with the smouldering haze of an unleashed sexual inferno and her whole body burned with the raging flames of complete arousal, her brain crazed to the point of near insanity. She rocked and slapped wetly against Randy's pile-driving rod of flesh, her heaving breasts smacking obscenely against the smooth hardness of the sixteen year old's muscular chest. Her blonde fair flew back like a golden wave of water and she moaned like a wild woman, her full lips parted in ecstatic abandon.
"Ooooohhhhh yes, Randy, yes . .. it's so good, sooooo goood .... " she crooned as her arms wrapped tightly around his young neck, and her nails dug savagely into his back, her hands sliding desperately down to his thrusting buttocks and forcing them harder and faster against the openly presented plane of her hungry cunt.
Man, she's crazy for it.. . she's really hot. .. Randy thought ecstatically as he continued to fuck frantically between her widespread legs. He had no idea she'd be so turned on by his screwing. .. that was beyond his wildest dreams. But she was! He was afraid in the beginning that maybe he'd made a bad mistake, and he was really going to be in for some trouble. She had fought against it in the beginning, acting all haughty and proud, but she had succumbed, and now she was just like any other woman, dying to get fucked!! His thoughts ran on lasciviously as he continued to pound against her, lewd smacking noises resounding through the bedroom as she stretched her long tanned legs farther and farther apart in a hungry effort to engulf all of his hotly plunging penis.
Jean Lincoln was a moaning and unmindful mass of pure pleasure, every ounce of her perspiring body alive with tingling excitement, She thought she'd go out of her mind from the pure pleasure of fucking and being fucked half to death. She didn't know or care-why, but she loved it! Forgotten was her initial anger, forgotten was the disgust she'd felt, forgotten was everything - her husband Tom, his job, their sexual problems, everything but the madly overpowering spasms of pleasure which were convulsing through her from this teenage boy's wanton fucking!
Their perspiring bodies rocked and bucked nakedly against each other, filling the bedroom air with the tangy acrid odor of sex and the wild cries of sexual arousal as they flailed uncontrollably in the age-old rhythm of copulation. They were demented and mindless as they twisted and jerked against each other, Randy's wetly pounding young body crashing between the widespread and wantonly kicking legs of the tall blonde housewife. "Christ, Mrs. Lincoln . . . you sure .. . know .. . how to . .. fuck!" Randy panted admiringly as the quickening tempo of their love-making signalled their mutually approaching orgasms.
"Oh God, Randy, don't stop now!" Jean begged wildly, knowing that the full blasting force of her climax was hovering just beyond her reach. Suddenly, her voice caught in a series of whimpering moans and her legs wrapped up tighter around his back as a violent explosion seemed to tear her apart.
"Oh my God, Randy .. .I'm cumming! I'm cumming . . . AAAAHHHHHH ..." she groaned, her voice cracking with passion, her pelvis jerking out of control as the detonation of her body-shattering orgasm struck her with the force of a bomb, disintegrating her flesh into billions of atoms of excruciating pleasure, lighting blaze after blaze of blinding light behind her wildly rolling eyes as her pelvis convulsed upward around his deep-sunk penis.
"Aaaaagggrrrrhhh ..." she continued to sob wildly as her head flailed from side to side, her body quiveringly alive with mind-blowing sensations. Again and again, her long tanned body jerked and flailed like a puppet on a string as floods of unbelievably unexpected pleasure washed over her. She was a mindless mass of total feminine arousal, and she forgot to be frightened by the terrifying force of her orgasm. She had never known that cumming could be like this . . . it was a completely different experience from what she usually had. It was miraculous, and this young teenager was the wonder worker! In the dim of her orgasm-clouded brain, the rejoicing young housewife was aware of a powerful stiffening in her young lover's body, and then he was trembling from head to toe, his pelvis thrusting forcefully against her wildly kicking legs, raising her loins up off the bed from the force of his spasmodic pounding.
"Aaaarrrhhhh . .. uuggghh ... oh God, Mrs. Lincoln, I'm there .. . I'm . .. aaauuggghhh!!"
He was cumming too, shooting his roiling sperm deep and hard in needle-like spurts into the hungrily pulsing sheath of her eagerly waiting belly, sending jets of the precious liquid far up into the depths of her greedily welcoming interior. He continued to pump into her without let-up, filling her helplessly flooded belly with more and more of his hotly foaming offering, until she felt filled all the way up to her throat with his seething male sperm. His orgasm seemed as if it would never end, as he continued ejaculating into her, the heated male semen trickling pleasurably through her still quivering cuntal depths, until at last, his powerful young penis began to deflate, finally slipping ineffectively from the widely-stretched passage of her pulsating vagina.
It was almost dark when Jean realized she'd been asleep. She was still stretched out naked on her back on the wide double bed, her thighs still moist from Randy's sperm and lasciviously spread and she was filled with such incredible exhaustion that it was an effort to close them.
Was her husband home? Her first worried thought made her sit bolt upright, convulsed with fear, but after a minute, she was able to determine that there was no light or sound in the dark, empty house. Randy Webb was gone She didn't know when or how .. . and she didn't care. She knew that she'd have to drag herself to the bathroom, wash away the exterior signs of the young teenager's brutal assault, but that would have to come later. Right now, she couldn't move. Her entire body felt sore and abused, her battered loins still tingling as a lewd reminder of her shameless orgasm. Shame and mortification flooded through her as she recalled how she had thrashed about in wanton abandon as Randy had poured his scalding sperm far up into her shamelessly hungering cunt, how she had actually climaxed from the teenager's obscene love-making. It was almost impossible to believe, but it was true! She had actually succumbed to her bases impulses, had actually enjoyed the lewd rape of her body by a boy almost half her age.
Tears sprung to her eyes and she felt utterly sullied, sunk to the lowest depths of depravity. How could she ever even hold up her head again after what had happened to her? She was no better than the youth who had assaulted her She had enjoyed the cruel rape, she, a married woman! Sobs convulsed her quivering body as her dazed brain tried to grapple with her feelings. What could she do? What was to become of her? How could she live with herself after this? Overwhelmed by the realization of what had happened to her, and of how her body had betrayed her, Jean sobbed helplessly, giving vent to the pent-up feelings of her shattered emotions. It was a long time before she could force herself to rise and go to the bathroom, to try to cleanse herself of the shame and degradation she felt permeating her entire being.