Heather Brown
Kidnapped housewife
CHAPTER ONE
My cunt was filled with ten inches of hot, throbbing cock. The fit was so tight I thought I would scream.
Inside, I was tense. In knots.
Repeatedly, I'd come to the brink of orgasm and then failed. The harder I was fucked, the more frustrating it was for me. This affair was turning out like all the others.
"Fuck me harder, harder!" I forced myself to beg, even though the phallic jackhammer splitting my thighs was already killing me.
Despite my suffering, I was not yet ready to give up my quest for an orgasm. Through the agony, I wanted to come so bad I could taste it.
To emphasize my willingness to go to the limit no matter how much it hurt, I wrapped my legs around the hard-fucking owner of the hard-on splitting my guts, yanking him into me even deeper. I could feel his balls broiling against the lips of my pussy.
"Holy shit, Angie," he cursed my name, "you're twisting my Goddamn prick off!"
"Just shut up and fuck me, Dick Tracy," I masked my inner turmoil and purred. "If I wreck your pistol, I'll get you a new one. They're doing wonderful things with vinyl these days."
That brought a lopsided grin even to the craggy face of the lieutenant. Roy Parker had a reputation for being a no-nonsense cop, but he was just a big goofy kid once he got his cock in my pussy. Let's face it, the most famous cop in the city – almost a cinch to be elected the next District Attorney – was just nuts about me.
And, in most ways, I was pretty crazy about him too. The only problem was that "most" does not, comprise 100% of the pie. At the bottom-line I had a glaring deficiency that warped my whole existence.
I couldn't come when a man fucked me. Only masturbation could draw forth the squeal of ultimate release which otherwise eluded me.
Why beat around the bush about it? Frigid is what they call it. I was frigid.
But that wasn't the entire story. Had I been just normally frigid, with no interest in sex, I might have cheerfully become an old maid building her own little empire in an upstairs library. Alas, things were not that simple.
To my utter dismay, I was a frigid woman who was constantly turned on by sex. When my husband, Tom, couldn't satisfy me, I went out looking for other men in self-defense.
In the beginning, I'd been sure my lack of fulfillment was all Tom's fault. However, after a series of affairs without a single orgasm, I was forced to sadly acknowledge the blame was mine.
Still, despite batting zero, I never stopped searching for the perfect fuck. Most of the time I could still psych myself up that the next man was going to be the one to make the difference in my life.
It wasn't any lack of love for my husband that caused my many affairs. Truthfully, I loved him a great deal but, unfortunately, through no fault of his, just short of orgasm with him. Marriage could give me all the material comforts, but it couldn't provide the climax I so desperately craved.
Of course, so far, adultery hadn't been any more fruitful than monogamy. Even though a handful had brought me to the brink, no man's plunging cock had ever succeeded in pushing me into the orgasmic abyss.
Frequently I wished that I could just turn my back on it all. Say, "What the hell, there's more in life besides sex."
But I could never make myself believe it.
The more I tried to get away from sex, the more I thought about it. My mind would become uncontrollably infested with explicit images of cocks and pussies. I'd get so horny that I'd have to masturbate. After I'd made myself come with my own hand, I'd optimistically convince myself that it was all friction and any man's cock could bring the same result if I gave it a chance.
So, shamelessly, I gave tock after cock the chance to validate my theory. The fact that they always turned up losers had never stopped me from trying again.
Until now.
Yes, I was starting to wonder if this constant playing around was worth it. Not only was I getting no orgasm from it, if my husband found out I might lose the security of my marriage and home.
When I'd hooked up with Roy Parker, I thought more than with any of the others that he might be the one to finally light my fire. He was such a man's man, as a woman I couldn't resist him.
Roy was so dynamic – a man on the rise. Ruggedly handsome. A hard body. A cock the size of a stallion's. If he couldn't take me over the edge, what man could?
And to his everlasting credit, the lieutenant brought me close several times.
Did I say close? Teetering.
Please let me fall! I prayed over and over again to myself as Roy rammed his enormous cock to the depths of my pussy. Let me go down the big black hole!
But, right up to the present, it was all in vain. No matter how hard the lieutenant fucked me, I couldn't come. The tense pain passed as I realized the obvious and I felt like I was hanging in mid-air.
On the top, Roy couldn't have been any the wiser. He'd reached the point in fucking where the male thinks about nothing but turning his nuts inside out. There's nothing in the universe but the cum he's about to explode.
"Unnnnh… unnnnhhh… unnnnhhh," he grunted in triplicate as he ground the tip of his dick into the farthest reaches of my pussy. His cock seemed like it had grown another inch in the last second.
Convinced I was never going to come, I felt like a robot, programmed to make all the right movements without emotion. When Roy made his ultimate thrust, I automatically responded by wiggling my ass.
My body had never felt more efficient. Or cold. "Come, you bastard," I dutifully cried, "come in my cunt!"
"Abhhhhhhh!" he moaned like a speared whale. Suddenly he was coming a ton up my pussy. The excess was already dripping from my thighs.
"Oh, your cum is so hot," I told him. And I wasn't lying – it was. If only it had made any difference to me at this point. Chicken soup would have had the same effect.
"I know it, baby," he arrogantly panted. "All of us cops shoot hot lead out of our pistols."
"I thought you police sharpshooters were supposed to aim between the eyes," I cracked, not between the lips.
Unfortunately, my joke did not divert him from asking the question I most dreaded. "How was it for you?" he murmured in my ear as he worked his dick around in the sloppy goo of my cunt.
"Terrific – it was terrific," I lied. "You've got a marvelous cock."
"Then why didn't you moan?" he persisted with his unwanted inquiry. "I like the women I fuck to moan."
"Then I'm not the first?" I tried to tease him out of it.
"Put a lid on that bullshit!" he barked like he was browbeating a suspect. "You didn't come and you know it, Angie. Spill it."
Sadly, I nodded my head. I was on the verge of admitting to him that I was frigid. But, then, when he said it first, I couldn't go through with it.
"That's it!" he exclaimed, like he had just solved the crime of the century. "It's not my fault. It's you – no man can satisfy you. You're frigid!"
"Negative, it's you. You just don't know how to satisfy me," I impulsively upped the ante in order to conceal my secret.
"What're you talking about?" he replied with gruff defensiveness. I was getting to him.
"I'm surprised you haven't thought of it yet," I taunted him. The intrigued expression on his face told me that he had forgotten all about my alleged frigidity.
"What?" he blurted like a little boy trying to guess his birthday present.
"A woman has more than a single tight hole between her legs," I met my own dare. With that, I grabbed his big dong out of my cunt and began rubbing it against the puckering knot of my anus.
"You want me to fuck you in the ass, Angie?" the normally hard-bitten cop gushed in awe like a kid confronted with all the ice cream he could eat.
"It's the only thing that makes me come," I lied, wishing that even such limited orgasmic privileges were mine to enjoy. Other than by my own hand, I was a washout.