"I'm gettin' tired of waitin', bitch," his voice snarled menacingly above her, and the terrified young wife felt her stomach turn Over in icy fear at his calm threatening tone. Steadying herself by leaning her trembling hands against the corded columns of his thighs and breathing a silent prayer for help in the humiliating ordeal, Susan again began tentatively pulling and sucking on his lust-distended staff, sliding it in and out of the puckered oval of her full red lips. Her jaw ached from the effort of holding her mouth open wide enough to encompass its rubbery thickness but, reminding herself that she had no choice, indeed that her very life might depend on her ability to please the sadistic young man since Tim's phone call had removed the hope of immediate rescue, she did her best to relax and, as Art had said earlier, "make it easier on herself." Fighting down her terror and queasiness, she pulled experimentally on his thick rigid penis, gradually relaxing into a steady bobbing rhythm in time with the thrusts of his lean hard pelvis.
Once she had made the first gesture of surrender, she was surprised to discover that, although she still felt the act was shameful and debasing, it was not, in actual fact, as repulsive as it had always seemed to her. Except for the gagging sensation that occurred each time the heated tip of his cock-head plummeted headlong against the fiercely resistant muscles of the back of her throat, and the recurring sense of humiliation she felt when sudden mental flashes reminded her of the degradation to which she was being submitted, she found the texture of his throbbing blue-veined cock inside the virginal cavern of her mouth not really that unpleasant. Out of curiosity and the desire to hasten the completion of her ordeal, she began working in earnest to satisfy Art's warped sense of enjoyment. Her tongue slid wetly over the sensitive underside of his blood-engorged shaft, tracing an uneven path along the veins that stood out from the smooth flesh.
"That's pretty good, bitch," her captor hissed, rotating his hips obscenely as he savored the feeling of her slick heated tongue against his lust-swollen penis. "You're gonna make a real fine cock-sucker!"
His lewd words made Susan cringe inwardly with renewed horror at her situation, and hot, hopeless tears sprang to her eyes. She experienced a sudden vivid image of herself as she might have looked to an imaginary third party in the room, kneeling on the floor of her own hallway, stark naked, before the menacing figure of a deranged youth whose huge penis was plunging heedlessly, tormentingly, in and out of her mouth. Strangely, however, the humiliating fantasy-image also aroused unexpected twinges of excitement in the ravaged young wife's consciousness. From some deep recess of her unconscious mind, far beyond her control, began to come other equally obscene sexual visions, all of them of herself and Art, and sometimes Tanya, copulating wildly in every imaginable combination and position. The unbidden images flooded her with warm erotic feelings that surged excitingly through her naked kneeling frame.
Carried away by their sensual force and scarcely knowing what she was doing, the young wife began sucking on her tormentor's now rapidly plunging shaft with instinctive expertise, as though she had been doing it all her life. Her tongue whirled deftly around the swollen cock, up to the tiny opening at the tip, then all the way down until she felt the wiry softness of the curling pubic hairs at the base and his hard wrinkled balls slapping against her chin. Her hands began involuntarily squeezing and kneading the taut hair-covered flesh of his muscular thighs, and little moans of pleasure escaped her lips as her head, still gripped by his powerful hands, bobbed back and forth like a rubber ball.
Art groaned with satisfaction and threw his head back in a grimace of delight as he responded to her increasing ardor. Possessively he wound his long fingers in the curling tendrils of her thick brown hair, manipulating her head any way he wanted to increase his pleasure. Looking down at the kneeling young housewife, he felt a thrill of pride and deranged lust at the transformation that was once again taking place in the prim girl who knelt before him. They were all the same, he grinned lasciviously, screaming and weeping and saying "no" until he'd shown them who was boss. That was what they all needed, a good stiff cock, and if they protested, a little roughing up usually brought them around. He didn't know which he liked more, the actual physical pleasure, or the sight of some uptight semi-virgin beginning to crack, the way this one did last night, the way she was about to do again. He could feel it in the trembling of her hands that were beginning to dance over his naked thighs and hips like butterflies, hear it in the little gasps and moans of erotic arousal that escaped from her throat with each thrust of his heatedly excited cock. Her tight pink pussy was probably creaming already. He smiled to himself at the thought, and gripping her head more firmly, he held it in place so that he could increase the rhythm of his lustfully impaling strokes.
His appraisal of the young wife's state of arousal was far from inaccurate, for Susan, to her shame and amazement, was falling prey to ripples of salacious delight coursing through her loins. Despite her moral outrage at Art and the terrible things to which he had forced her to submit, once again her body was betraying her. A tantalizing sensation seemed to emanate from the little crevice at the juncture of her thighs, and she could feel a warm passion-induced moisture seeping Out of her heatedly throbbing vagina. She squeezed her thighs together, but found to her dismay that this only intensified the feeling. Oh God, she thought despairingly, what's happening to me? How can I possibly be… enjoying this? I'm… I'm no better than a nymphomaniac!
Suddenly the pace of Art's movement increased sharply, and a low animal-like groan burst from his lips. His grip on her hair tightened cruelly, and instinctively, Susan knew that his orgasm was about to overwhelm him.
"Aaaaaaggggghhhhhh," he growled, forcing her head down onto his pulsing shaft of cock-flesh as the first jet of creamy-white cum spurted lewdly into her mouth. Once again the young wife gagged uncontrollably and struggled to escape the steaming liquid that spouted forth in hot gushes, but her resistance was futile. With maniacal strength Art pulled her forward so that his furiously throbbing penis was jammed all the way against the back of her throat, and she could smell the pungent male odor of his swaying testicles. Stimulated by the intensity of his release, the young wife found herself suddenly gulping down the scalding cum as though it were soda, sucking greedily at his ejaculating penis as though she wanted to drain him to the very dregs of his orgasmic passion. The tickling sensation between her legs was almost unbearable now, and she writhed uncontrollably, grinding her knees into the thick pile of the carpet until they were raw and red.
Finally it was over, and with a great sigh of relief, Art released her. Susan sank back onto the carpet, shaking with the effort of her labors and with her own hotly inciting but still unrelieved desire. She huddled in a heap on the floor, numb, aware only of the agonizing ache between her quivering thighs and the fire that raged unquenched through every part of her being. Suddenly she became aware that she was being watched, and looking up, she saw Art, still towering over her, grinning down at her knowingly. Feeling herself flush with embarrassment, she hastily averted her eyes.
"Don't worry, slut, your hot little pussy'll get filled up soon enough," he mocked her.