She Can Take It
(M+/F+, ir, slut)

by Kysa Braswell
www.kysaonline.org

"Ben! No, please don't!" Linda Daniel protested.

She struggled for a moment with his hand, pulling it with hesitant force from beneath the top of her thin, low-cut dress. Ben Daniel resisted somewhat drunkenly, and then let his hand be pushed limply away.

"Linda, for God's sake!" the young man thickly hissed. "We're married, aren't we? Jesus, you act like we were still going steady."

"Oh, darling, it's not that," she moaned in a soft whisper against him. "It's that we're in a public theater, that's all."

"What's that got to do with it?" he growled in a low voice.

"I mean... I mean, it's not even a drive-in! We can't... we can't make a spectacle of ourselves in front of all the others here. We're not teenagers any more, you know."

"Not by very much," he chuckled wetly against her ear. "I bet you just don't want your new boss to see you necking, right?"

Linda flushed slightly, feeling her rosy cheeks flare with heat in the darkened movie theater. "No," she protested, "it's not that at all. Mr. Matlock is a married man. He knows all about love." She dropped her head to his shoulder and began to sigh gently, trying to show her husband she wasn't such a prude as she sometimes sounded. "We'll have plenty of time for loving later, when we get home!"

"Think you can stand seeing sexy films like this every night while I'm gone?" her husband, Ben, whispered suggestively.

"You... you know I don't like them, Ben," she replied, stiffening. "Besides, I'll be out in the lobby all the time I'm working. Now hush and watch the movie. You're the one who wanted to see it so badly."

"Yeah," Ben breathed huskily, looking back to the screen with liquor-dulled eyes. "And man, it sure is a hot one, isn't it?"

Linda Daniel didn't answer, again feeling a rapid sensation of blood rushing to her face as she blushed with embarrassment. She'd never seen one of these so-called "art" films before, but avoided them by telling Ben that she was not interested in the more lewd and prurient side to love-making. But the curvaceous blonde wife, only twenty years old and married just one month over two years, had been continually urged by her handsome, twenty-two year-old husband to at least try one before she dismissed the whole idea. And her girl friends, those other young wives and mothers who lived in the apartment-house complex with her and Ben, always seemed to be talking in hushed giggles about the candid versions of wild erotica which their husbands were taking them to. In spite of her deeply religious upbringing and her own ingrained sense of what was decent and what was not, she couldn't help admitting that she had been secretly curious about what such films were like, titillated by their come-on newspaper ads.

Now, tonight, there had been no way of avoiding seeing one such movie, even if she had desperately been against the idea. For one thing, she hadn't been able to find the proper words to argue after all the drinking they'd done during dinner. Ben had taken her to a fancy restaurant before coming here, and they had lingered over their tasty food with different wines with every course, not to mention the before and after cocktails. Ben had more to drink than usual, and Linda could see he was not very sober, but she, too, was feeling the alcohol's effects to a marked degree.

For a second reason, he had insisted that he wanted to go here, and she didn't have the heart to turn him down, as this would be Ben's last night with her for the next four months. Her husband would be away from home and bed for almost the coming third of a year, and of course Linda had wanted to make this the best possible going-away night she possibly could. The reason her husband was leaving was one of those minor tragedies that can strike young married men "on their way up" who must sacrifice personal pleasure momentarily for a more secure and richer future. There had been many tears and even a few arguments ever since Ben had told his wife of the necessary parting, but they both knew that it would be best in the long run, a temporary parting that would only make their marriage happier later.

Ben Daniel had left his menial job as warehouseman at Lennox Plumbing and Heating to join a new, progressive and energetic firm of plumbing representatives, Fordham & Associates. It was a real chance to make something out of himself, Ben had told Linda; perhaps the only chance he'd have before he was twenty-five and most of the trainee positions were being filled by younger graduates. But as a new representative of many different plumbing manufacturers, he had to go to New York City and start learning a thousand different details at the parent office of Fordham & Associates, and travel all over the country visiting the multitude of factories for further teaching.

If Linda could have gone with Ben to New York, there would still have been frequent times when they would have been apart. But a warehouseman doesn't make much money, and there hadn't been the savings available to allow her even that much. The sad fact was that there was hardly enough money to buy Ben the new suits he needed and send him to the other side of the nation. Linda would have to stay in Nova Scotia, in the small suburb of Greenridge, and keep their tiny apartment for when Ben returned to his new sales position in the area. Partially out of a desire to keep her mind occupied and partially to help meet financial ends, Linda had taken a job.

The new job to which Ben had just referred was the second reason they were at the movies tonight. Linda had a high school education, having married Ben almost the moment she'd graduated. She didn't have the skills or the diploma necessary for many of the positions that were offered, and in a residential district such as Greenridge, there weren't many openings for the few things she could do, such as typing or filing.

Both Ben and she had felt very lucky that the Bijou Theater in the small downtown shopping area had needed a girl to take tickets and operate the candy and popcorn concession in the lobby. The owner, Marshall Matlock, had wanted somebody to replace his wife, Cheryl, from the chores, and was most pleased that someone as smart and beautiful as Linda was available. Older women, he'd said to her, were continually getting sick or baby-sitting their grandchildren, and teenagers from school were eager, but often irresponsible. Linda was, as far as Marshall Matlock was concerned, the perfect combination, and he'd been glad to allow her the few extra days and nights with her husband until Ben left. But tomorrow evening she would be going to work at the Bijou, and the theater was the leading movie house for erotic, sex-oriented films...

After watching the movie, 'Sinning Students' for almost an hour and a half tonight, Linda was beginning to feel slight twinges of doubt about whether she should have agreed to see it with Ben. Or, for that matter, that she should have taken the job at the Bijou at all, considering the kind of movies they were showing! She had told her husband the truth about working out in the lobby, closed off from the images on the screen by the closed swing-doors but still and all, just knowing this was the type of films the customers were viewing would be a shameful thought continually torturing her mind. The soft mewling sounds coming from the other women in the audience around her, and the grating noise of heavy deep breathing from their male escorts was telling enough of the effects such eroticism was having. She could see through the dim light the vague shapes of other couples wrapped in tight embraces around the darkened theater.

Her eyes glanced back to the screen just as the climactic moments of 'Sinning Students' were being unreeled in vivid color. It was the age-old story of seduction behind the stone walls of an exclusive girl's school. There had been the usual scenes of teasing foreplay with different young teenage girls, all of them beautiful in their youthful, firm innocence, as they fought for all they were worth against the perverse temptations that were continually being forced upon them. Linda had been watching a number of scenes where one after the other of the girls were shown in various stages of undress, with their budding, tautly uplifted little breasts often filling the screen in larger than life detail, or fleeting glimpses of their hair-fringed pubic mounds and lithely rounded buttocks as they nakedly displayed their nubile young bodies.

But now the wide-eyed wife was viewing the most lecherous of the professors as he was thumbing through a book in his small room. At first glance it appeared as though he were reading it very quickly, but as the angle of the camera turned, she could see that he had photographs secreted between its pages. His eyes gleamed lasciviously as he studied them, but the camera did not show them to the avidly awaiting audience.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. He snapped the book shut, looking up as the door opened and a young brunette schoolgirl hesitantly entered. She couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen, Linda thought with disbelief; where on earth had the film producers ever been able to hire such sweet, innocent virgins as her? The teenaged girl was dressed in the school uniform and carried a set of books in her arms, and the dialogue was to the effect that she wanted the teacher to help her with one of the lessons. She didn't understand it, she said, and the professor, a wicked gleam in his eyes, said he would be more than glad to explain it better. She sat down and shyly opened her book to the page from which he'd been teaching that morning, and the sound track went over the lesson, the professor inching around closer and closer to the seemingly unsuspecting girl. Then the teacher straightened, snapping his thumb, and said he'd forgotten something that would make the lesson easier, and he excused himself and left the room.

The girl sat erect in the chair, looking around the small room nervously, biting her lip as if she felt a certain danger just being there all alone. But after a few moments, curiosity got the better of her fears, and she reached across and took her tutor's book to check a figure in her own studies. The camera showed the gasp of surprise and the shocked expression on her face as she opened the book and saw the pictures hidden inside. Her first reaction was to close the book and slide it back across the table, but then her innocent wonder took over again, and she reopened the book, shuffling the photos with increasing interest.

The pictures were on an angle to the camera and slightly out of focus to give a tantalizing, erotic build-up, but enough was shown so that Linda could see that they were pornographic pictures of a man and a woman nakedly entwined in lewd sexual intercourse. The camera switched back to the girl's face as a slow change from amazement to wide-eyed excitement seemed to come over her emotions. The stimulating effect the obscene pictures on her immature mind was apparent, for Linda could see her eyes slowly dilate and the unmistakable smoky haze of passion begin to flicker through them. The violin music began to grow as she breathed harder and panted in a rhythmic excitement, and she writhed with increasing passion on the chair. The camera lowered to the floor and viewed upwards under the table. The student girl pulled her skirt up slightly and inserted her middle finger up under the tight leg band of her flimsy nylon panties, gently stroking the barely hidden crevice of her moistly parting vagina. A few curls of dark pubic hair and occasional glimpses of soft pink flesh could be seen glistening wetly as her slim inner thighs quivered and her firmly rounded little buttocks undulated. She slipped more of her finger deeper into her virginal young pussy and rotated her hand faster and faster with increasing arousal...

Linda held her breath as she watched the school-girl fingering herself on the screen. She had never in her life seen anything like this, and was grateful for the protective covering of the darkness around her.

It all looked so real and true-to-life that she couldn't believe it was only being acted, and again she found herself wondering where tender-aged girls could be gotten to do such sordid things in front of a camera. Through a lightheaded intoxicating haze of martinis and wine which she'd had during a pre-movie dinner, she could feel her own body begin to tingle in sympathy with the school girl on the screen. She remembered lying in her own bed when she'd been no older than this girl, and touching her private parts with her own fingers to relieve the building force of her flowering womanhood. That had been years ago, but still she blushed slightly from the shame and guilt flicking through her conscience, and she squirmed her own buttocks nervously, feeling the soft edge of the seat brush electrically against the tender swelling of her vagina. She twitched from the unexpected shock the contact brought, her breath quickening involuntarily.

Ben eagerly pulled Linda close to him again, letting his hand dangle gently over her shoulder. His fingers lightly touched the tip of her breast, and he felt her jump slightly from his fingertips, but he held her tighter, pressing his hand gently against the softness of her throbbing breast. The young husband was growing more aroused by the second, and lewdly exciting images of the things he would do to his luscious wife's soft body ran through his mind. Man, tonight would be the last night for at least three or four months with her and after watching this hot sex film, he would turn Linda every way but up, and then maybe that way too. She had never liked different variations because she thought them to be perversions, but after tonight she'd know she had been fucked when he finished with her, whether she liked it or not!

Up on the screen, a spasming look of horror came on the school girl's face just as Ben Daniel returned his attention to the movie in front of him. The professor had come back into the room unexpectedly and caught her finger fucking herself with the pictures spread out on the table. The man grabbed the young girl roughly and cursed her, while she mewled and pleaded for forgiveness, but he marched her over to his bed, obviously bent on punishing her. He pulled her down over his knees and she kicked out wildly behind her. Then he lifted her little skirt up over the trembling moons of her fear-quaking buttocks and began spanking her through the flimsy white panties with the palm of his hand. The slappings were harsh and authentic sounding as they came through the speaker, and the girl screamed and kicked under his brutal spanking, her sleekly naked thighs shivering piteously before each cruel blow.

While the teacher yelled at her to leave his private things alone, the camera zoomed in on her flailing buttocks, where he was slowly beginning to draw the white nylon panties down over the delicious firmness of her reddened buttocks. When her panties were all the way off and thrown to the floor, the professor pushed the girl from his lap. She knelt in front of him on the floor, tears of pain and humiliation streaming from her eyes as she pleaded for mercy and begged him not report her to the headmaster of the school. The corrupting teacher's face shone with a cruel glint then, and he outlined what she must do for him if she didn't want to be expelled that very moment.

"Take your clothes off, my little peach. Strip and then we'll do some of the lovely things you were looking at."

"No! No!" the sweet angelic voice cried back.

"Yes!" the insidious professor demanded. "Be quick about it!"

Quaking with fear, the teenaged girl rose to her feet and began to slowly remove the clothing from her budding young body. The professor did the same, grinning satanically as his pants dropped to the rug. His big, hardened penis was just out of the range of the camera, but the whole audience including Linda knew it was no more than an inch past the bottom of the screen. The girl stood naked in front of the older man, her arms crossed futilely over her well-developed, high-tipped breasts. The curly hair covering the mound at the base of her tender white belly was soft and sparse, and the tiny folds of flesh covering the narrow slit of her pink vagina were plainly visible.

The teacher gleefully made her sit down on the edge of the bed and spread her legs wide apart so that he could kneel between them and see up between her parted thighs. He reached forward and placed one thumb on either side of the rounded hair-fringed lips of her pubic mound to splay their tender flesh slowly apart. The camera zoomed in to expose all of the moist pink valley of her tight young pussy, and her gently throbbing clitoris could be seen just above the puckered opening of her little cuntal hole...

Linda gasped in increasing surprise, unable to believe her eyes and ears. A tightening sensation was gripping the pit of her stomach, and she blinked her eyes that were hazy from the dinner drinks, trying to bring them into proper focus and assure herself she was actually seeing correctly. The horribly filthy movie was against every moral lesson she had ever been taught, and she knew it was terribly wrong to even be watching it! Yet instead of the absolute revulsion she would have sworn she'd have felt, she was experiencing a strange, light-fingering tingling deep up between her own thighs, and tiny licking flames of unwanted arousal burned through her raw nerve ends. Dear God, it was lunacy to be sitting here at all, but she was perversely enjoying it as well!

Her husband had pulled her so close against him now that she could hardly move and during the excitement of watching the young girl strip, he had inserted his hand down into the bodice of her dress again. She could feel small pinpricks of delicious sensations racing through the tips of her naked breast as he rolled the hardening nipple teasingly between his thumb and forefinger. The heat of his breath seared her ear as he turned his head toward her again and locked his lips wetly against her. She tried to twist away, but the pressure of his hand and mouth were too great for her to fight.

"Come on, Linda," he whispered into her mouth. "Don't start acting prudish again. Nobody can see us, and nobody would care if they did."

She remained rigid for another moment, and then allowed herself to go limp, knowing the futility of resisting his savage strength. The thought crossed her mind that this was the first time he had kissed her in a theater since they'd been married, and she had almost forgotten the forbidden thrill of what it was like. In spite of her guard being up against letting any emotional display happen in public, she could feel tiny butterfly-like sensations flit increasingly through her stomach.

The now familiar voice of the professor came through the speaker, piercing her mind even though she had her eyes closed and her head turned away from the screen. "You want me to play with you, my little dove?" Linda heard the voice lewdly ask.

"Oh, yes... Oh, please, yes! I want you to, Sir!"

Linda sucked in her breath, her face flushing. She could hear the sounds of heavy breathing and movement on the bed and then:

"How?" her teacher rasped excitedly.

"With your tongue, Sir! I want you to suck me like the man is doing in the pictures you have."

"By damn, I will! Get up on the bed and spread your legs!"

The older man's voice came through with a guttural passion she had never heard in her own love making with Ben. Her face turned a still brighter crimson as her husband continued to kiss her with hotly pressing lips and mouth, and she heard another long delay in the voices and a more intense movement of the bed. And then the voices returned:

"Ahhhhhhh," a high ecstatic sigh came. "Suck me, Sir! Suck me harder and deeper; stick your tongue all the way up my pussy!"

Ben Daniel felt renewed passion surging through his loins as he heard the girl moaning in the throes of abandoned sex on the screen. He could feel his massively erect penis jerking in the tightness of his pants and, as he paused in kissing his wife, he was able to see a small portion of Linda's soft upper thigh as she squirmed in her seat next to him. God, how he'd like to grab his wife right that instant and throw his prick to her while they listened and watched this wild sex movie! But he knew her well enough to know that any advance like that would freeze her up until she was colder than an igloo outhouse. He'd have to somehow control himself until they got home: but then, by God, he'd fuck her silly!

Ben withdrew his lips from hers and looked back at the screen. "Hot damn, look at that!" he gasped heavily into his young wife's ear, his hand tightening harder on her softly warm breast.

Linda turned her head slightly and caught the view of the movie just as the young girl wrapped her hands in the older man's thick black head of hair and pulled his face forward with all her strength into the moist pink opening of her loins. Her teacher's tongue was snaking out and swiping across the throbbing flesh of her tender vagina, bringing groans of lewd delight from her tightly clenching lips. He teased the tiny bud of her clitoris for a moment with his lips and then began to run his mouth up and down the full length of the widely spread vaginal slit. Her hips responded with slow hard grinding up against his face, and she writhed and twisted like a belly dancer under the hotly probing tongue. The girl was being turned into a raw quivering mass of desire before the eyes of the movie audience, contorted expressions of sensual joy clear to all upon her passion-twisted face...

At the same time, the camera was able to view the professor's hardened penis as it stuck out from between his naked thighs while he knelt before the abandonedly writhing girl. A ripple of sensation coursed through Linda in spite of herself as she pondered its giant size. It was much bigger than Ben's, and she clasped her own legs tighter together as she involuntarily wondered what it would be like to have something that big sliding up between her thighs. She glanced guiltily away from it, only to see once again his thick tongue curling wetly up into the swollen pink lips of the teenaged girl's eagerly spread vagina. Linda gasped at the obscene sight, having heard about men doing this to women but never having thought the sight of such a depraved act could excite her against her will. And yet it was, and she could feel a building moisture up between her tightly pressed thighs as the emotions reflecting on the girl's face in the film transmitted themselves to her own body.

Thoughts of her own nights of love-making fluttered unconsciously into her mind as she watched the lewdly sucking mouth on the screen. She could recall how early in their marriage Ben had trailed his wet lips from her bare breasts and down her naked skin in a similar attempt to go lower and plant moist kisses on the soft flesh and satin hair surrounding her defenseless vagina. She could vividly remember how she had screamed for him to stop and then sobbed that he was acting "evilly" as she had pulled him back up over her. He had always taken her the normal, "right" way after that, but without the fire he had shown before, and she had always wondered why at the time.

Was this the reason? Was it really the kind of animal things she was viewing in the movie now that it took to please a man? Ben had ceased his attempt to force her into such unnatural and debasing acts, but he had become increasingly casual and indifferent in his love making. If he'd been drinking as he'd been tonight, he could be almost cruel and brutal with her, and occasionally he had actually hurt her! She did have to admit that she was prudish in certain respects, and that not once in the two years of her marriage with Ben had she enjoyed sex like the girl in the movie was obviously experiencing. Had she been kidding herself what it should be like when two people make love? The thought raced through her mind against her will what should it be like? What would it be like? No... no... such abnormal acts were wicked and that was all there was to it...

"See her?" Ben said softly, nuzzling against her cheek. "If you'd let me, I could do the same to you..."

"No!" his young wife protested, squirming away from his still teasing fingers on her naked breast. "No, you know that's not love, just raw sex! It... It's just not right to do!"

She could feel the moisture begin again between her tightly pressed thighs and she involuntarily ground her buttocks harder against the seat to quiet the unwanted, lewd stirrings she felt.

"But look at the girl's face," Ben continued wetly into her ear. "She's letting the old professor screw her, now that she's hot enough to go up in smoke. She's enjoying it! She's enjoying everything the man's been doing to her. Christ, honey, she's not holding herself back."

"Don't talk like that!" she hissed angrily as the word screw excited her strangely against her will. "I'm not frigid. You don't have to resort to those horrible things to make a self- respecting woman like me happy."

But even as she argued with her husband, her eyes locked on the view of the once innocent young girl on the bed with her thighs spread wantonly apart and the older teacher hunched down between them, his enormous penis sunk all the way up between her uplifted legs. The camera angle showed clearly his thick glistening hardness disappearing into the soft, hair-lined folds of her widely stretched vagina. His cock was in almost to its hilt, only a tiny inch of it remaining in sight, wet and throbbing. The professor's buttocks were flexing and hollowing rapidly as he drove himself hard into the nakedly writhing young schoolgirl beneath him. Her slim white legs were wrapped tightly around his muscular body, her trim ankles locked in a lewd death- grip over his perspiring back. His fleshy prick was spearing into her virginal pussy like a steel rod, bringing groans of indescribable joy bubbling from her moist full lips. The girl's face was contorted in the most depraved picture of pure raw lust Linda had ever seen.

God, how she must feel, the aroused young wife heard herself think. And I've never felt that way, I know it!

Linda had never seen two people making love before and it looked so strange to her. She wondered if this was the way she and Ben looked, and the thought caused her to squirm slightly and press her thighs together to hold down the erotic fire mounting against her will deep in her loins.

Ben had dropped his hand to massage still more of her aching left breast into further hardness beneath the covering of her dress. She shuddered from his maddening touch, feeling her breath coming in short, labored gasps now. His lips were whispering moist entreaties into her ear, using words she had told him repeatedly were wrong and obscene, but which were now strangely exciting to her. In rising passion, Linda pressed her thighs together as tight as she could to extinguish the sinful lusts growing mercilessly up between her legs. She wasn't a streetwalker, a common slut without pride or decency in what she did, and Ben had no right treating her like she was one especially on this last night that they'd be together! She knew she had to leave the Bijou this very instant or she would find herself in a situation with an unsober husband she could not control! How embarrassing, how utterly humiliating that would be, to have something happen in front of her new employer!

"Ben!" she whispered on the verge of hysteria, pulling his hand from inside her dress. "We must go! We must go right now!"

"For Christ's sake," he snarled bitterly, "What's the matter now?"

"I can't take any more of this... this awful movie!"

"You've got to be kidding!"

"I don't care I don't care, please take me home. Please don't make a scene, Ben, not on our last night together," she quavered, tears suddenly filling her eyes."

"And if I don't go?" he sneered drunkenly, anger smoldering in his glaring eyes.

"I'll... I'll go home by myself!"

"Gawd Almighty," Ben swore thickly, but he jerked his wife angrily to her feet, reaching behind him to grab his own coat. "Then let's get the hell out of here and home, so I can have my little going away present." He snickered obscenely as he thought about it. "Yeah... that'll be better than watching a movie."

"Ohhhh, Ben!"

He shoved her through to the aisle, his rage still growing inside him. "Don't 'Oh Ben' me, you wet blanket. I'm telling you now, Linda, that you'd better be good to me tonight. Damned good, you hear?"

Linda gave him a cold stare in answer and walked stiffly up to the lobby, Ben trailing behind her. Out in the lobby, the sudden glare of bright lights made her pause for a moment, and then Ben caught her roughly by the arm. "C'mon," he growled. "I'm hotter than a firecracker."

"Stop being so crude, Ben," she snapped waspishly at him. "I ought to say goodnight to the Anderssons. It's only polite."

"Well, make it snappy, unless you want to be raped here in the lobby."

Linda was shocked and dismayed by the way her husband was acting, afraid that it was because of the liquor and the stimulation of the movie. The very way Ben was behaving was reason enough for the young wife to believe such films are wrong and should be censored, if not banned entirely. Rigidly, she crossed towards the refreshment stand which was against the back wall between the two sets of aisle doors, self-pity and anger boiling through her. Oh God, no telling what Ben would be like in bed considering the mood he was in now! If only...

"Hello, Mrs. Daniel," a warm, throaty voice said, "Are you leaving?" It was Marshall Matlock who was speaking to her.

She blushed, stammering in reply: "Why... why yes, we are. Ben has to get up early in the morning to catch his plane, and .."

Matlock chuckled appreciatively. "I understand. You two want to be alone, with more important things to do than just seeing my old movie."

"Oh no, Mr. Matlock, we enjoyed it very much!"

"I'm glad you did," Matlock smiled, stroking one end of his small, clipped mustache. "But please, call me Marshall. After all, we're working together now... Linda."

"All... All right, Mr. I mean, Marshall." She dimpled prettily at the big man who was her new boss. She guessed him to be about six-two, and around two hundred pounds. His thick brown hair, lovingly rippled into waves, was long over his ears and at the base of his neck. He had a wide, handsome face, with a short nose above a heavy-lipped mouth, a firm chin cut by a deep cleft and thick eyebrows over small, pale brown eyes. To Linda, the slightly older man was awesomely masculine, so... well, she hadn't been able to put her finger on it, other than he had seemed to her from the first moment they'd met to be overwhelmingly magnetic. In that respect, he reminded her of Ben in a more mature way, of her husband's forceful and pervasive huskiness, and an odd sort of tingling of animal attraction had hit her in the pit of the stomach when she'd been interviewed for the job ten days ago. Even now, standing as they were in the lobby of his theater in a very respectable manner, she found herself studying him with a detached interest, not as a potential sex mate heaven forbid the idea but just as a very attractive and stimulating male.

Marshall' wife, Cheryl Matlock, came from behind the candy stand where she'd been counting change and joined Linda and her husband. She had a throaty, purring voice that the young wife had always associated with torch singers, like Peggy Lee, and she thought the woman to be very attractive in that same sensual way.

"So good of you to come on my last night," Cheryl cooed in a light-hearted manner. "I can't say I'll miss the job, not after all the years I've spent standing behind there!"

"Well, I'm hoping I can do half the job you've done, Mrs. Matlock," Linda answered diplomatically. "I'll certainly try."

"And you will, I'm sure you will," Cheryl laughed encouragingly. She had a rather narrow face, a straight nose with a little flare at the nostrils, a generous red mouth, long black lashes, and neatly plucked eyebrows. Her hair was sleek and black and glossy, gathering fully around her shoulders and down over her ripely rounded breasts. She was wearing a pale blue dress with a white starched collar peeking over the severe neckline. But she could have been wearing a steel diving suit, and it still wouldn't have held back the innate sexuality that exuded like perfume from this provocative woman. Cheryl was, Linda thought, the perfect mate for such a virile man as Marshall Matlock.

"Linda!" Ben called out gruffly. "C'mon."

"Oh, I better be going," she said nervously, catching the impatient look in her husband's eyes. "Goodnight, Marshall? and..."

"Cheryl. Do call me Cheryl."

"And Cheryl. I'll be here at seven tomorrow night!"

"Be looking forward to it, my dear," Marshall said genially and shook her hand.

Linda hurried back to her husband, biting her lower lip with apprehension and embarrassment. She appreciated the way Marshall Matlock had not acted as if anything was amiss, though it must have been clear as crystal that there was; and he had been a gentleman the whole time, rather than acting like a complete idiot as Ben was doing. A deep sense of shame still pervaded her entire being at the way Ben had been touching her so intimately only a few short minutes before, and the way he was fidgeting around now as though he were some stud bull unable to behave like a civilized man. She had no desire to say another word to him, and she just hoped that they would get out of here and home before something worse occurred. At least at home whatever happened would be privately between just them...

Behind them, and out of range of their hearing, Marshall and Cheryl Matlock stood in the deserted lobby, admiring the young couple as they left the theater. Marshall turned to his curvaceous wife, a sly little grin forming on his lips. "I," he said lewdly, "am going to fuck that sweet girl."

"Marshall, you're out of your mind," Cheryl chided. "I don't think you can con her into our bed short of raping her. She's too young and naive, and only been married for a couple of years."

"Sure, but did you catch that idiot she has for a husband?" Marshall chuckled suavely, patting his wife fondly on one firm buttock. "Linda's the kind who, when they fall, fall hard. It'll be fun trying anyway, even if we don't succeed."

"We?" Cheryl asked with a glimmer in her bright eyes.

"Damned right. You, my love, are going to help me not only get that girl, but mow her all the way down until she's ready to be made a star."

"Ahhh, a new actress for our pictures!"

"We've many lovely creatures for our shows, but the ones past twenty are all so common looking." Marshall Matlock sighed appreciatively.

"But that little bitch... ahh, she could make us a fortune!"

"And you've got a plan... for us!"

"Uh-huh, but I'm not going to tell you until we get home. Show's about due to end, and anyway, it'll do you good to wait for the details."

"Why, you horrid tease! I think you're making this all up!"

Marshall laughed heartily, noting the anticipatory smirk on his lovely wife's face. "Nope, I've got a plan, all right. And my dear... when have you ever known me to fail?"

"Never," she had to admit, smiling. "Not even once."


Ben Daniel drove with the car window rolled all the way down, the cool night breeze ineffectual against the swirling heat of his inebriation. The drinks he'd had only a couple of hours ago were headier than ever in his bloodstream, and were making his already maddened emotions a hazy blur. He glanced savagely at his lovely blonde wife who was sitting far over against the door, and the sight of her demure, righteous expression enraged him all the more. She hadn't talked to him since she'd demanded to leave the movie, and that was just fine by him!

Some hot piece of ass he'd married! Out of bed Linda demanded all the little things involved with a story-book romance, with her teasing and suggestive remarks and her provocative come-hither looks. But she was all sham as far as he'd been able to determine in two years of bedding her; all sugar-coated icing on a flat, stale cake.

Goddamn Linda! He loved her very much, and he'd be deliriously happy if only she was a woman, a red-blooded female who wanted him physically. His cock and balls were aching for the loving caress of a sensual wife, but all he'd been able to expect from her was the responsiveness of a pound of calf's liver. He often pictured the ideal situation with Linda mewling and moaning with pleasure as he made love to her in a hundred different ways, and she in turn writhing and sucking and kissing him with unquenchable lust just like that little teenaged bitch had been doing in the sex movie. He could almost feel the creamy secretions of her nakedly hungry cunt as she whispered his name in pleading supplication, and he groaned as he drove, gripping the wheel tightly, knowing all too well that her pussy was as dry and arid of moist desire as the Sahara Desert in summer.

Goddamn it! This was the last night before he went away to New York City for God only knew how long. He had to have her! He had to and no question about it! He was going to fuck the shit out of his young wife tonight whether she liked it or not, come hell or high water!

Ben drove more recklessly than was usual after he'd been drinking, his lewd and obscene desires firing his liquored brain until he was unable to think of anything except Linda stretched out naked on their large double bed. Christ I'm drunker than I thought! he told himself, but he didn't care... he didn't care about anything except fucking!

They entered the quiet residential street on which their apartment house was built, the car tires screaming as he suddenly braked in the parking lot beside the red brick building. Still without a word between them, Linda and Ben, both tight-lipped, took the elevator to their sixth-floor apartment. Linda stood to one side and tapped her foot with irritation as Ben fumbled with the key to the locked door.

Inside the sparsely furnished living room, Ben drew his wife to him with an abruptness which surprised her. Her wetly parted lips were smothered as he pressed his mouth hotly to her. She felt herself go rigid as the warm quivering eagerness of his tongue bid for entry into her mouth, and then she gently pushed free of him.

"I... I'll make some coffee," she offered in a gasping voice.

"I don't want any damned coffee," he snarled down at her. I want a drink."

"But "

"A drink, damn it! Can't I have a drink in my own fucking house?"

Linda cringed from his yelling voice, turning around so that he couldn't see the tears forming in her eyes again. The evening was ruined. Their last few moments together, and it was ending in bitter and hateful quarreling. She took off her coat slowly, and then almost fearfully, she said timidly, "Are... Are you coming to bed, Ben?"

"Damned right I am, baby," he grinned with drunken lewdness at her. "Soon as I pour myself a drink. You go get yourself all ready for lover-boy. Because he's rarin' to go tonight!"

He watched her slump off in the direction of their bedroom, and then with a disdainful grunt, he stalked to the cabinet where the bourbon was kept. He didn't bother to find a glass, but unscrewed the cap and tilted the glass neck directly to his mouth. The hot liquor burned all the way down to her stomach, making Ben feel slightly nauseous for a moment. He staggered to an easy chair and sagged down in it, lifting the bottle up to take a yet greater swallow. A few seconds later he was rewarded by a lightheadedness that swirled heatedly through his blood, and he raised the bourbon still again to take more of the soul-inflaming alcohol.

His long, hardened penis was bent mercilessly in his pants, and he could tell that he was oozing seminal fluid from its passion-throbbing blunt tip, soaking into a wet stain in his white underpants. Never had he felt so hot and intensely aroused, the combination of the drinking and the lust-arousing 'Sinful Students' film boiling in his mind with ever-intensifying desire. The pain in his doubled-up cock was now excruciating to him, and with the desperation of the drunken man he was, Ben reached down and fumbled for the fly of his trousers. The zipper protested, because the sitting position he was in made for awkward maneuvering even for a sober person, but slowly he was able to lower it until his white underpants bulged through the narrow opening.

Ben Daniel looked down at the protruding bulge. There it is he said drunkenly to himself. There was his hard cock with which he'd fucked his share of girls in school. He was a damned good looking guy, and he didn't mind telling himself so, for enough eager and willing girls had while they'd been rolling in the sack with him. He had a tall, broad-shouldered shape to his lean, muscular body, with a tanned face and a smile that they all said could have been used in a toothpaste commercial. He ran his hands through his rich black hair and stared morosely down at the aching bulge that was enlarging from the open zipper of his pants, and Ben thought to himself that a fat lot his good looks and big cock was doing him now.

Trembling with pent-up frustration, he touched the swelling flesh and felt a tremor race through his loins and buttocks. The narrow band of thin white underwear seemed to widen of its own volition as he ran his fingers along its frontal band, the sensations he was causing himself almost too overwhelming to be withstood. His fingers caressed the stiffened cock, its outline hard against his underwear, and then he pulled the material aside. Like a steel spring unwinding, the fleshy shaft and blood-swollen head of his hotly aroused penis shot free and out into the open air.

Ben stared with fascination down at his own erect cock, seeing the lust-bloated hardness quiver with anticipation. He'd never seen it bigger! His fingers caressed his large, rigid shaft, and the cool air of the living room made it tingle all the more maddeningly.

For Christ's sake, this is stupid! he chastised himself. I haven't done this since I was a Boy Scout! But he continued almost without conscious effort, the foreskin folding back as his hand stroked the long burning length of his cock. Sperm churned in his hotly tormented scrotum, and he could feel the rising of his impending cum building in the base of his penis. He sat in his living room chair like that for a long moment, staring down at his rock-hard cock as the full fist of his hand wrapped around its shaft and pumped up and down with furious speed, his breath becoming ragged and hoarse.

It was only then that the drunken young husband realized that he was too far gone to fight the primeval urges his body was thrusting upon him, and with a violent surge of salacious lust, Ben Daniel leaped to his feet. He started his desire-wracked body toward the door to his bedroom, his hand once more enclosing over the turgid hard length of his erectly pointing cock. Yes... Toward the bedroom and his wife Linda... Ready or not, here he came!

Linda had gone into the bedroom feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness and despair. She began to fold back the sheets of the double bed, wondering what had gone wrong with the evening and what she might have done to avoid this awful situation. Had she been unfair to make Ben leave the theater when she had? Was she being too demanding of him to treat her with respect? No... if anybody was too demanding, it was Ben. Physically demanding, she thought, and she shuddered at the knowledge of what would probably happen to her in just a few minutes. It seemed to her at times like now that the only reason Ben married her was for her body, and that all he ever had on his mind was sex. He wanted to make love to her almost every night, and then like an animal at times.

Linda shuddered involuntarily again. The thought of Ben's huge, brutal hardness tearing into her defenselessly tight vagina made her tremble with fright. Didn't he know how to be gentle and patient with a woman? She had been a virgin when she'd married him, and he certainly had been aware of that better than anyone else. She had dated many boys before she'd met Ben, and had engaged in the usual back-seat petting with a few who had appealed to her more than others. She had even on occasion let a couple of them brush their hands over her full ripe breasts, but despite their pleadings she had never let it go any farther. It had aroused her somewhat, she admitted to herself, but she had always overcome this by strict concentration on the moral values her mother had drilled into her.

Her mother was extremely religious and had made Linda attend church with her every Sunday without fail, when most of her other friends had been running off to play. Her mother had also given her persistent warnings on the evils of "s-e-x" and the innate beastiality of men. Linda had told Ben frankly about her strict upbringing because she wanted to be a giving and loving mate for him. All she had ever asked in return was for him to be patient with her and understand why she didn't believe in pre-marital intercourse or all the lewdly wicked positions in which some uninhibited persons indulged. Ben had promised he understood and would cherish her wishes.

But he had not, taking advantage of her love and trust in him even before they were married to press his baser instincts. She had never gone "all the way" with him during their courtship, but several times it had been very close, being all she could do to control the both of them in their moments of passion.

Often, in compromise, she had let him reach under her sweater and unfasten her brassiere, and caress her nakedly exposed breasts while they were petting in the back seat of his car. One time they had parked inside the garage of her parent's house where it was very dark and private, and he had massaged her painfully full breasts into a maddening hardness until she had allowed him to slip off her blouse and brassiere. He had suddenly taken one of her nipples into his wetly eager mouth, and the gentle playing of his tongue around the chip-like bud had nearly driven her insane with new sensations. She had hardly noticed when his hand had slipped under her short skirt and had begun to caress her creamy white upper thighs.

"No, Ben, no!" she had gasped, sensing that she might not be able to hold him back this time. But he had kept on stroking her, insinuating his outstretched middle finger under the legband of her thin nylon panties and into the moistly heated slit of her virginal vagina. It had started a tingling sensation that she had never known before, and she squirmed around on the car seat beneath his hands, her heavy breathing fogging up the window beside her.

"Ben, not now, darling, wait for our wedding night..."

He had paid no attention to her and she had heard the metallic sound of his zipper opening. She had tried to pull away with a suddenly gripping panic, but his finger between her thighs had been probing up into her wet vagina, sending electric thrills of rippling pleasure up through her that froze her to the seat. She had not been able to move for the moment as the delightful sensations raced around inside her body, and he had taken this to mean she had surrendered her will to his abuse. He had stretched the elastic legband of her panties farther aside, and suddenly tried to roll over on top of her to insert his fleshy male hardness. At the last possible moment she had clamped her legs tightly together and trapped his fully exposed penis painfully between them.

Ben had struggled like a maniac to pry her thighs apart and get the tip of his rock-hard penis up into the wetly throbbing opening of her vagina. But she had been possessed with the fearful certainty that she must wait for a wedding ring, and had struggled with all her strength against his attempting rape. Just as he had forced the head of his straining cock under the legband of her panties and the throbbing blunt tip was poised between the unwantedly spread lips of her cunt, she had felt it begin to jerk out of control. Ben had gasped and she had felt hot, thick liquid spurt out from the end of his penis and drench her matted pubic hair with his warm white sperm. It had covered the insides of her thighs wetly and had dripped down between her legs to moisten the car seat beneath her squirming buttocks.

Ben had emitted a final groan and had collapsed over her body as she began crying with uncontrollable hysteria. He had tried to comfort her but she had refused him to even touch her, feeling soiled and dirty and humiliated beyond belief. But later, she had calmed down enough to realize that Ben was only a man and controlled by the fevered desires her mother had always warned her about. She had scolded him and made him promise never to do that to her again, reminding him that it was just as much his responsibility as hers not to let himself get carried away before they were married. He had apologized and had never made any serious attempt on her virginity after that.

It had been a wonderful wedding night, and she had felt a complete woman to have been able to give up her virginity to him. Nothing else in the world had ever felt so good as his hotly throbbing penis stretching her tiny hymen and then slipping wetly all the way up inside her belly. The thrills he had given her that night had raced too wildly through her for her to think of her original fears, and she had relaxed her tense inner muscles to give him greater access to her womb. With each delightful stroke he made, she had been able to feel her bridegroom's penis jerking into greater hardness until at last the white hot semen that had once spilt all over her outer skin surged in seemingly unending streams to inundate her inner cuntal walls and fill her belly to its fullest.

Yet strangely, she had not felt that mysterious peak of excitement that she had heard women could enjoy as well as men. "Climaxes," she'd heard whispered from the lips of her girl friends; "orgasms," she had read in the few forbidden sex manuals she'd glimpsed through. Or maybe she had experienced a cumming like her new husband had, only she hadn't known it... Confused and bewildered, Linda had always been too ashamed and reticent to ever ask about what she might be missing. Still, it had felt good for her, and she had always tried to be agreeable when Ben had wanted her. And then had come his lurid demands for perversions, and his increasing estrangement as though he was tiring of her...

God, how times have changed, Linda thought bitterly as she smoothed out the bottom sheet and stood up. Ben's actions during that dirty movie tonight were the worst yet. In spite of what everybody else says, maybe her mother had been right all along. She undressed quickly then, folding her dress and underclothes in a neat pile on top of the clothes hamper. As she waited for Ben to finish drinking and come to bed, she looked at herself critically in the full-length mirror attached to the wall beside the bureau. Linda Daniel was a slim woman, about five feet six inches, and her body was beautifully and symmetrically proportioned to her size. Her blonde hair hung long, and when she let it fall down across her shoulders, it partially covered her voluptuously full breasts. She did that now, thinking that she looked very sensual that way, and almost brazen. She swept the hair back up again, studying the creamy white skin of her breasts and the pink aureoles that made large, perfect accents for her small, bud-like nipples. She raised her arms over her head, stretching her globular breasts taut, and she looked like some classic nude sculpture from the Golden Age of Grecian art.

She stood that way for a long moment, letting her eyes roam down across the flat plane of her stomach and the cute indentation of her navel. The curly blonde hair of her sparse pubic triangle was silky and golden, highlighting the pink fullness of her vaginal lips. And she could see the tiny tip of her clitoris peeping shyly out from the softly rounded flesh of her cuntal valley. She pirouetted lightly, examining the dimpled curve of her satiny buttocks and the rippling smooth muscles of her calves. She had long, curvaceous legs which tapered from the firm swell of her thighs down to her neat little ankles and small, dainty feet.

I've got a good body, Linda thought, I really do! But it hasn't brought me full physical happiness in two years of marriage.

Suddenly the bedroom door burst open, hitting the wall behind it with a resounding crash. Ben stood in the doorway, breathing in every inch of her lovely nakedness. He had seen her naked before, of course, but never like this! Every sensual detail of her unadorned flesh was lucidly clear to him in spite of his drunkenness, from her tiny rising nipples down to the soft curls of her pubic hair that nestled invitingly below her soft white belly. His eyes blazed with the uncontrolled lust which was burning through his loins, and his immense, fully exposed penis pointing and jerking ahead of him as he moved deliberately across to where his young wife stood in dreadful apprehension. He held his massively rigid cock pointing at her with his hand still beating frantically up and down its lust-hardened shaft.

Linda felt fear clutch at her throat until she thought she could not breathe. Dear God! This was worse than the time before they were married, when he'd nearly raped her in the car with all his clothes on, only his zipper down to expose his genitals! At least then, he hadn't been flaunting his... his member at her like he was now, and playing with himself so wickedly!

"I've got to have you," he breathed raggedly at her. "Right now, right here!" Linda cowered back, whimpering with fright. He stepped closer and then grabbed his naked wife with his free hand, sweeping her to him despite her protests. She was hauled ruthlessly against the hardness of his lust-burgeoning cock, and she could feel the pounding heat of his rigid penis against her trembling flesh as she stared abjectly up into his desire-contorted face. His eyes were more obscenely glittering than she had ever seen them before, and his mouth was tightly drawn back over his teeth like a wild animal ready to pounce on some unsuspecting prey.

"Ben! My God, Ben, please! You're drunk!"

"Damn straight, I'm drunk, woman!" he snarled down at her thickly. "Drunk from wanting to fuck you!"

Ben's hands explored her warmly naked body with rough callousness, clutching and squeezing her soft, sensitive flesh as his penis throbbed excitedly against her cringing belly. Linda struggled feebly for one panicky moment, but she couldn't fight his overpowering strength, and she thought desperately that perhaps if she gave in a little it would help return him to sanity. She thrust her moistly parted lips against his mouth and flicked her wet, pink tongue between Ben's teeth. He sucked it hungrily, his own returning kisses burning her like a firebrand.

"Easy, darling, please be gentle with me..." she murmured entreatingly into his ear, but the drunken young husband was beyond hearing her pleas. There was no verbal response from him, just a deep-throated growl of desire rumbling from his throat as he pulled her cruelly toward the open bed. She felt herself fall upon the mattress and roll to one side, and then she dimly felt him crawl up on the bed beside her, hovering momentarily with an evil grin of pure lasciviousness spreading across his alcohol and passion-lined features.

"Now, damnit, I'm going to fuck you!"

"No! Don't! Don't use that word!"

"Fuck, baby! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Ben unbuckled his pants and slipped them down to his knees. Then he sprawled drunkenly on the covers as he tugged at all his clothes, and within seconds he was as naked as she was.

"Please, Ben! Please be gentle with me!" Linda's voice moaned as he leaned over her nakedly defenseless body. He held her down against the mattress with one hand and ran the other greedily over the lush contours of her young flesh, kneading her ripely succulent breasts with hands he seemingly was unable to control. His head dipped down to the tender budding nipples, and he chewed hungrily at their pink tips until he could feel her resistance slowly giving way and the sweet taste of her skin filling his mouth.

"No, darling, noooooo!" Linda mewled hopelessly, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Her long blonde hair thrashed from side to side on the coverlet, her face contorted with torment and fear, as she cried out over and over until the sounds became nothing but incoherent mumbles of slurring words.

Ignoring all of his wife's moaning cries, Ben rolled on top of her and caught her naked young body as her long slim legs scissored out in one last desperate attempt to escape his brutal assault. Drunkenly, he held her wildly straining body tighter to the bed, imprisoning her, as the weight of his heavy chest tensed down upon her like a giant boulder. His hips fell heavily down between her full widely-splayed thighs and pinned her jerking buttocks tightly down against the bed. The soft fleece of her curly pubic hair brushed teasingly against his throbbing male hardness, inciting him to incoherent ravings of drunken lust. His knees spread her legs farther apart as he ground his lean muscular pelvis into her squirming, defenseless loins.

"I'm going to fuck you silly, baby," he hissed viciously down at her. "Yeah, I'm going to fuck you just as if you actually wanted it!"

"Ohhhhhhh," Linda groaned haplessly, knowing she was to be brutally raped... Raped by her own unloving husband!

Ben Daniel drove his hand down between the fear-trembling hollows of her soft inner thighs in his mad search to find the elastic snugness of her cringing little vaginal hole. He felt the blunt rubbery head of his cock slip moistly between the sensitive pink lips of her cunt until, using his fingers to guide it, he led it directly up against the tight pulsing hole of her pussy. He jammed his blood-rigid shaft forward with a groan, shoving it all the way up inside her soft white belly with one savage lunge of his driving hips.

Linda felt his heatedly pulsating penis forcing its way along the tender walls of her vagina, pushing her resisting flesh before its skewering hardness like a sword slicing through meat. She winced tearfully from the excruciating pain, knowing full well from previous times that there would be no escape for her, no let-up of the torture until he had emptied his burgeoning testicles inside her and mercilessly filled her womb with his lewd cum.

Ben rammed forward again, hearing maliciously his testicles slap up against her twitching up-tilted buttocks. She ground her hips against the bed in a futile effort to relieve some of the brutal pressure, kicking out her legs vainly in the air on either side of his cruelly impaling body. "Timmmmm!" she screamed wildly. "Oh God, you're hurting me! Agggghhhhhhhh! You're hurting me so much, Timmm!"

The alcohol-crazed husband grinned obscenely as he heard her guttural wail of pain that had come bursting helplessly from deep in her chest. He pumped his rock-hard penis deeper and faster into her warmly yielding flesh, his thick shaft of meaty cock sinking with each demonical stroke all the way into her fear-quivering pussy, the warm wet walls of her cunt wrapping tightly around it.

"That's right, baby!" Ben taunted down at her. "Scream for it!" He flexed again, and asked: "You love it like this, don't you?"

"Uhhhhggggg!" she yelled piteously. "My God! You're killing me! You're killing me!"

"That's not the right answer, Linda!" Ben snarled, thrusting even more savagely down inside her quivering belly. "You like it, Don't you?"

"Ohhhhh, yes! Yes!" the tortured young wife cried out, tears running freely down her red-flushed cheeks. She was afraid now of offending him and making him crueler and more brutal to her than he was already, and she frantically lied: "Yes! I like it! I like it! Ohhhhhhh!"

Ben laughed more harshly in response to her babbling words, stroking more quickly in and out and pounding her tender, stretched vagina harder and faster. He moved his clawing fingers back to grip her supplely fleshed buttocks and pull her tightly grinding cunt closer to his driving loins, his vicious thrusts filling the bedroom with lewd, smacking sounds that blended with Linda's continuous moans of torment and pain. His own breath became shorter and heavier, blowing out from his tight-lipped mouth in little gasping puffs, and his naked flesh gleamed wetly with beads of salty sweat. He felt himself lose the last remaining vestiges of self-control, and he howled out wildly: "I .. I'm cumming, baby! Fuck back! Ohhh, fuck back!"

But even as he blurted out his climax, the first powerful streams of his hot white semen began to erupt from the suddenly expanding head of his throbbing cock, searing deep up inside the fleshy well of his wife's tightly pulsating cunt. His cum spewed forth with the rolling force of a tidal wave, burning Linda's inner belly with liquid fire, drowning every fractional inch of her raw, sore little pussy until the hot semen spewed out around her painfully swollen vaginal lips. Linda could feel the trickling sensation of his warm, wet sperm flowing down between her hair-fringed cuntal crevice and puddle on the clean white sheets beneath her wildly trembling buttocks.

And then her husband collapsed, his once-hard cock deflating rapidly with his momentary satiation. Ben fell exhausted across his nakedly cringing wife, one arm splayed wide across the bed and his legs like rubber limbs nestled between her involuntarily open thighs. Linda stared up at the spent muscular body of the man above her, and in the wake of his spent-out passions, shame and revulsion filled her mind, tears falling like rain from her red-rimmed eyes.

"Why?" she moaned softly to him. "Why, Ben... Why do you treat me like this?"

"You'd never understand," he breathed huskily against one pulsing breast. "You'll never understand about a man's feelings. I'm no robot that can take being married to a beautiful woman like you and having to beg for a decent piece of ass."

"Don't... Don't talk like that to me!" Linda hissed. "You wouldn't say or do such things if you loved me!"

"I love you plenty, baby," Ben responded, feeling anger once again building in his stomach.

"Only I married a statue, not a woman!"

"You... You're nothing but an animal! A sex maniac!"

"An animal?" He raised up over her, his face contorting with indignation. "A sex maniac?" He felt his limp penis begin to rejuvenate with new-found life, hardening out into as strong an erection as ever. He heard his fearful wife stifle a cry as she felt him push his rehardened cock along her semen-matted pubic hair and down into the moist slit of her lubricated cunt. "A sex maniac, am I!" he growled thickly. "Well, I'll show you just what a sex maniac an animal sex maniac can do to a frigid old prune like you!"

Ben never even gave her a chance to adjust to his sudden re-entry deep up into her womb, beginning to fuck immediately in and out of her like a dog gone wild. His only thought was to flood more hot cum deep up inside her where it belonged, and he vented his raging, drunken lust time after time, spewing her belly again and again with the thick, white liquid of his sexual frustrations.


Meanwhile, in a sprawling ranch house high up on the wooded hills outside of Greenridge, Cheryl Matlock switched off the light in her maple furnished living room and walked into the lavishly decorated bedroom, where her husband, Marshall, was waiting for her.

She slipped off her shoes and did a small pirouette in the center of the room before she padded bare foot to the huge king- sized bed. There, she smiled seductively at Marshall while she slowly undid the buttons along the front of her light blue dress.

Marshall' breath sucked in slightly from the excitement of her provocative strip. Damn, he thought, there's just no woman like her!

Undulating her lithe, firm body, she slid the dress down along her slender shape until it lay on the carpet at her graceful feet. Her eyes were heavily ridded and smoky as she watched her husband's face while she tantalizingly reached behind her and unhooked her brassiere. She pulled the thin cloth cups away from her firm, full breasts, making sure that the already aroused berry-sized nipples were the last to meet Marshall' hungry eyes. She dropped the brassiere on top of the dress and then slipped her fingers inside the waist-band of her bikini panties and slowly began to work them down over her long, tapering legs until she was standing before him entirely naked.

"You like me, lover?" she purred throatily at him.

"Christ! You're a damned whore when you get near a bed!" Marshall gasped appreciatively. "But hell, I wouldn't want it any other way, my dear."

His eyes roamed hotly down over her well-tanned body, savoring the full swell of her rounded breasts and the fleecy, dark curls of her pubic hair which framed the moist, pink folds of her vagina. She was something else, all right, and in the six years they'd been married, he had never had such an insatiable woman who could please him more. None had ever surpassed Cheryl in any way, and that was quite a compliment for Marshall Matlock to give, considering the number of women he'd had in those six years with her.

Cheryl reveled in his openly lustful gaze for a long moment and then lay down on the satin spread of the huge bed. She scissored her legs invitingly wide in a wanton pose, exposing to his eyes all the moist pink crevice of her hair-fringed cunt. She rotated her hips up and then lowering them in a measured, sexually intoxicating manner. "Aren't you going to get naked for me, lover?" she cooed lewdly.

"You better believe it!" Marshall breathed huskily. He quickly shed himself of his trousers and shirt, letting his clothes fall where they would in a disorganized heap on the thick carpet. He stood at the edge of the bed and looked down at her voluptuous nakedness, his thick eleven-inch penis standing out rigidly beneath the taut muscles of his well-developed abdomen.

"Open wide, my dear... I'm coming in fast!" he grinned, and leaped on the bed beside her.

"Not so fast!" Cheryl giggled mockingly, rolling out of the way. "You were going to fire me up with the plan you've got for little Linda Daniel, remember?"

"Ah, my dear, but you're torturing me," Marshall pleaded good-naturedly. He knew this was a game with her and one that they often played. He knew she was more than ready, right now, but that she liked to be coaxed a little before the action began. "I'll tell you afterwards. I promise."

"No, sir," she said, squirming her legs together. "No talkie, no fuckie." And then in a seductive coyness, she reached over and placed one hand around the pulsating thickness of his upstanding cock. "You tell me all about it. I'll just sort of .. amuse myself while you are."

"Well," Marshall said, grinding his teeth together as shivers raced up and down his spine, "we'll use the old One-Two-Three play on her. I think that'll work the best."

"One-Two-Three?" his naked wife asked as she moved closer to him across the bed. Her fingernails scratched lightly over his long hard cock which was reaching yearningly toward the ceiling, and Marshall groaned and gritted his teeth at her teasing ministrations of his testicles and penis. She raised up on her knees and hovered on all fours with her face poised just above his squirming loins until he could feel the hot air from her breath, and then she dipped lower, planting a kiss on the blunt tip of his penis.

"Go on, lover," she sighed softly. "What's One-Two-Three?"

Again, all that Marshall could do was groan and thrust his loins upwards involuntarily as the warm moistness of her soft lips closed over the throbbing, sensitive head of his penis.

"One... ohhhhh, One will be just me. I'll... oh God, Cheryl! I'll... I'll get her up here all alone and seduce her for the first time, and then... Ohhhhhh!" He lifted his head slightly to watch her contorting face, and then reached down to tangle his hands tightly in her hair to guide the rhythm of her bobbing head.

Watching and helping her made the wild sensations that much more exciting to him, and he lustfully gazed at the thickness of his saliva-gleaming hardness slide up and down between her wetly ovalled lips.

"GO-wan, go-wan," she mumbled around his plunging cock, increasing the swirling of her tongue around the lust-swollen head of his thick, rigid cock. "Go on... what's Two?"

"Two... Two is when you... Ohhhh, and then I..." Marshall shivered, unable to think coherently as his wife became caught up with her delicious task and concentrated on taking all of his heatedly throbbing hardness deep inside her hungry wet mouth. "Oh, to hell with it," he finally managed to gasp. "Just suck me off. I'll tell you... tell you later, my dear!"

He watched hypnotically as the soft flesh of her lips clung to the rubbery skin of his hardened shaft on every outstroke she made with her mouth, and then enclosed inward as she sunk the full length of him all the way to the back of her throat. Her ripely dangling breasts danced below her pumping torso, their hard red nipples brushing tantalizingly across the sensitive flesh of his belly, adding to the lust-inciting scene.

"Suck, my dear... suck!" he hissed, dropping his head back heavily on the mattress and pretending for a moment the woman who was sucking his cock so well was the innocent blonde girl he had hired for the theater. By God, he'd shove his prick all the way down to her stomach when he finally got into Linda. He'd pump his hot cum all the way down her throat and into that white little belly of hers until she burst!

"Ohhhhhhh, suck! Suck, Cheryl, suck!" he grunted to his wife as she slaved below, her body beginning to gleam from the tiny droplets of perspiration forming over her skin. He felt the pressure growing in his testicles, and knew it wouldn't be long now before he would cum inside her warm, wet mouth. He shoved his loins hard up against her face in his quest for the final climax that was building... building deep inside his painfully aching cock. He gasped and his lips bared back over his teeth as though he were being tortured by fire, and then...

His big, hard penis began a sudden wild jerking that flooded his wife's wildly sucking mouth without warning in a torrent of thick white sperm. Her cheeks bloated outwards with each bullet- like spurt as she tried to keep from choking by swallowing as fast as she could, mewling and crooning all the while around his thrusting loins.

With one last savage groan, Marshall Matlock emptied the last of his semen into her lips, but his wife went on nibbling voraciously, sucking every tiny droplet from the head of his ejaculating gland. Gradually, his satiated penis deflated in her mouth, and Marshall threw his arms out to the side in exhaustion, a great sigh of delight escaping from his lips. Cheryl lay for awhile with her head on his inner thigh, still nibbling gently at the now limp and useless penis in front of her. Then she crawled up over his naked belly, kissed him hard on the lips, and dug her tongue into his mouth.

A moment later, she took her mouth away. "What about number Two, lover?" she teased softly, smiling down at him with a slight sparkle of triumph in her eyes. "What about me and you and number Two?"

Marshall chuckled contentedly and stretched out with satisfaction before he answered his wife. "Simple, my love. I know you've had your eye on that tight little Linda for as long as I have. Well, what better way of breaking her into our kind of movies than to show what all sorts of loving can be like including your own special brand! No reason why we can't both enjoy her hot young body, is there."

"So part Two is when the two of us have her at the same time."

"Exactly, and with my little snap-shot camera along for fun-time photos. That should take the stuffing out of her for good!"

Cheryl smiled erotically down at her husband, pleased at the obscene idea he was proposing. She preferred the hot, hairy bodies of men and their large, pleasure-giving cocks, but every now and then she had a lusting for the satiny feel of another woman's soft curves under her arms and lips. And lovely blonde Linda Daniel's tender young body had been as arousing to her as it had been to her husband. Yes, it sounded delectable, and she knew how Marshall loved to watch her making lesbian love with another woman just before he joined in to become the third partner of a depraved seance a trois...

"And number Three, lover," she asked in a passionate voice unmistakably excited by his obscene plot. "Quick, what is it?"

"Well, One will be with one me and Two will be with two, right? But Three... ahh, that might be with more than just three! We'll get as many of the boys together as we can, and then let things happen as they happen, and the best part will be "

"Yes?" Cheryl asked breathlessly.

"The best part will be that we'll let our color movie cameras roll the whole time. We'll do it in the studio out back, and presto! We'll have our next full-length feature!"

"My, you are clever," his naked wife teased. "We'll blackmail her into cooperating with the photos of us with her. When are you going to start in on precious Linda?"

Marshall thought for a moment, then replied: "I'll have to judge that as it happens. It depends on how soon I can get her to trust me. Then a little of that marijuana on a balmy, romantic night up here..."

"Wonderful!" Cheryl chimed in gleefully. "As long as I can watch!"

The lascivious sex film producer began to laugh with lewd delight, and before she knew it, Cheryl was joining in with him. If her husband's cruel seduction worked, and Cheryl was sure it would, she would soon be face-deep in the lovely blonde softness of that young wife's velvet pubic hair. Cheryl could feel her mounting desire just at the expectancy, her already moistening vagina flowering still more, and her high, round breasts hardening tautly with tingles of anticipatory passion. She reached her hand down and felt her lascivious husband beginning to stir with renewed desire, his large, thick cock hardening again with rising excitement. She grinned, feeling the wetness seeping between her own throbbing thighs, and knew that it was going to be a long, delicious night with Marshall...

Followed by many even longer, more delicious nights with innocent, unsuspecting Linda Daniel. After all, Cheryl silently smiled to herself, doesn't every woman want to become a movie star?


One month to the day after Ben Daniel had flown to New York City, his wife stood in the ladies room of the Rock Wall, primping her hair before a large oval mirror over the wash basins. She was a little inebriated, although far from being drunk, and a crystal stem-glass filled with a Brandy Alexander stood beside her elbow on the ceramic ledge of one sink.

Lord! she muttered under her breath as she reached for the glass, she had eaten nothing since a quick lunch, and here it was after midnight! The soothing warmth of the Alexander her third since she'd arrived at the Rock Wall was causing a slight tingling sensation to ripple through her blood. She raised the glass to her lips and finished the drink in one long sip. It tasted good; almost too good, she warned herself, and then she giggled at the idea of being in danger. What danger could she be in here, surrounded by all the richest people of Greenridge and a guest of Mr. and Mrs. Matlock? None, of course. The Dew Drop Inn was where only the most prominent and civilized of the local residents ate and drank and danced. Certainly nothing wrong could happen to her, she was certain of that. Why, she was as safe as if she was in her own home!

Home... the one word made her smile bitterly at her reflection. Home and Ben were where the last real danger had been. The thought of her long-gone husband made her remember vividly the last night they'd been together, and despite her promise not to dwell on the awful event, the liquor eased her defenses enough so that once more she reflected upon his savage attack. How could Ben have been so cruel to her, she thought. Why had he been such a raging animal.

She glanced around the ladies room and saw that she was still alone, and in a moment of recklessness she ran her hands over the sweater-enclosed tips of her round firm breasts. They had been so sore and swollen, and her nipples so raw, that she hadn't been able to wear the softest brassiere without pain for a week. Her shoulders trembled as she thought back to the horrible rape of her body by her husband and the way he had used her as a tool solely for his own gratification without even the slightest consideration for her wants or needs. He had used her like a slave his own wife and the memory sickened her even after all the days which had passed since then. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she recalled his last parting words just before he'd angrily stormed out the door with his suitcase. She could still hear his voice ringing in her ears as he'd yelled at her:

"I don't think you could make any man happy. Maybe when I'm in New York I'll go out and get myself some slut off the street who'll give me the loving I need!"

Dear God, would he? Has he? His letters had been so infrequent and vague, his answers to her own almost daily letters sometimes ignoring the most important parts. This was deeply distressing to Linda, and she sometimes had difficulty in sleeping at night, wondering if Ben still cared for her and was being faithful to their marriage.

She looked again down her slim body, provocatively dressed as it was in the short mini-skirt and thin pullover which Mr. Matlock had said was her theater uniform. The rounded peaks of her breasts stood out defiantly, and she could almost see the taut curve of her buttocks where they flowed gracefully into her firm legs, the hem-line of her skirt being so daringly high. She was proud of her youthful, curvaceous body, and yet it was the reason for all her troubles. If she could have been a Plain-Jane, she would probably have been settled down with children and happily married to some average fellow. She would never have attracted such a popular boy as Ben, but then she would never have been cursed with being wanted just for her striking beauty.

The hazy effect the brandy was producing seemed to simplify things into an either-or kind of situation in her mind. She turned around and started for the door of the restroom, and as she stepped out into the dim warmth of the Rock Wall, she fleetingly wondered if there couldn't be a middle ground somewhere in between where she could find true happiness...

Linda threaded her way unsteadily through the ring of small, intimate tables which surrounded a polished dance floor. Over in one corner was her table, the one she was sharing with Marshall and Cheryl Matlock. This was the first time that she had been with them socially, and though she had been reluctant at first, she was now glad that she had accepted their invitation and pleased that they had asked her to join them.

Both the Anderssons, especially Marshall, were so understanding and nice to talk to, and Linda couldn't help feeling that her new employer had a real interest in her welfare. When she had gone to work that evening, Marshall had invited her to a party at his house, which, he said, was being held after the theater closed for the night. She had made excuses at first, declining the invitation because she had never liked to drink much and would have preferred a quiet time at home alone. But Marshall had persisted in his genial and persuasive way, saying that he was meeting Cheryl for a cocktail after work, and the least Linda could do was have one with them. She realized then that his invitation was really a good-natured attempt to get her out of the shell of self-pity into which she had withdrawn. For this, the lonely young wife was grateful to him, and had then accepted for both the cocktail and the party, suddenly wanting a few gay hours to help take her mind off of Ben's absence and seeming neglect.

At first she had been very nervous in the Rock Wall, feeling improperly dressed in her scanty skirt and sweater, but there'd been no chance to rush home and change, and Marshall had laughingly told her that it was too dark for anybody to be that inquisitive anyway. She had also felt unsettled at just being out like this, alone and without her husband, even though Marshall and Cheryl were only good friends. But, after a drink had calmed her nerves a little, she had mused that if Ben didn't think enough of her to return her daily reminders of love, then perhaps she deserved an innocent diversion like this.

"Well," Marshall Matlock said expansively as she approached, "I thought for a minute you'd gotten lost. I was about to send a Saint Bernard out looking for you with a cask of Brandy Alexanders. Female Saint Bernard, of course."

"No, no," Linda giggled, sitting down. "You know how long it takes women to freshen up."

"Ah, how well I do," the handsome man sighed with exaggeration, and then winked broadly at his wife. "But you're back, my dear, and just in time for another round of drinks."

"But really, I don't think "

"Nonsense!" Marshall boomed, signaling for a waiter. "Cheryl has to leave in a few moments to drive some of the guests to our house, so we'll just have time for one more quick one. Waiter, bring us two scotch-and-waters and one Brandy Alexander."

"You like the Alexanders, Linda?" Cheryl asked.

"Oh yes, very much. I... don't like the taste of liquor very much, but these are very smooth and refreshing. I should have discovered them before. Thank you for suggesting them, Mrs. Matlock."

"Do call me Cheryl," the older woman purred.

"That's for sure," Marshall chimed in, a slight red flush of alcohol covering his cheeks. "We're out for a good time tonight. Let's eat, drink, and be merry as the saying goes, because we're all good friends together. Linda, Cheryl and Marshall. One-Two- Three. Yes, siree."

The new round of drinks appeared, and after she had sipped almost half of her brandy, Linda noticed that the lack of food was finally making a difference. She was really beginning to feel the liquor, but in a most pleasant manner as she relaxed and some of her mental caution disappeared. She soon found herself having a very animated conversation with both the Anderssons. Marshall was witty and could converse artfully on a dozen different subjects, and even his slightly naughty risque jokes didn't offend her, but set her laughing delightfully. He was a very nice, very handsome, very urbane man whom she was finding herself liking more and more. A rapport with Cheryl also developed easily, and they were soon discussing the latest fashions and what it would be like to take a round-the-world cruise.

Linda was enjoying herself more with every passing minute, feeling giddy and light-headed and almost carefree for the first time since Ben had departed. She was extremely happy that she'd agreed to go along tonight, and was looking forward to the rest of the night up at the Matlock house.

"Why don't you ask Linda to dance, Marshall?" Cheryl suggested as the conversation hit a momentary lull. "I have to leave in just a moment and want to finish my drink, but you shouldn't let such good music go to waste."

"An excellent suggestion," her husband agreed with a smile, and rose from his chair to offer Linda his arm. "Shall we, my dear?"

"Well..." She hesitated, but then thought if Cheryl had suggested it, it must be all right. "I'd love to, Marshall."

He led her out to the dance floor where the small combo was playing one of the quiet old favorites. She was taken by surprise when he curled her warmly in his arms, pushing the sharp, full tips of her breasts deeply into his chest. She wasn't sure how to react at first, and stiffened automatically as he hugged her close.

"Don't be afraid, my dear," her boss whispered warmly into her ear. "I'm not planning to bite you."

Linda's face flushed in the dimness of the dance floor as she felt him push forward harder and spread her legs slightly so that the mound of her loins were forced against the top of his thigh. The soft silkiness of her dress seemed to hide nothing from her senses and she could feel the resilient flesh of her right thigh brushing tightly between the older man's legs as they moved slowly in time to the music. Inadvertently, she made contact with the softness of his trousered penis, and with a start, she felt a slight stirring of his manhood beneath his pants.

"We... we shouldn't be dancing like this, Marshall. It... It doesn't look too good to be this close, and your wife might object."

"Oh, she won't care," Matlock said in an offhand way. "She doesn't care what I do."

"B-But you're a married man," she stammered in a whisper. "And... and I'm married, too."

"Yes, my dear," Matlock replied with oily smoothness. "That always makes it more exciting, don't you think?"

Linda suddenly lost her tongue, surprised as she was by his strange-sounding words to her. Before she could think of a proper answer, the music stopped and the combo leader announced it was time for intermission.

"Your husband is a very good dancer," Linda managed to say, trying to cover the blushing she was feeling in her cheeks.

"Cheryl is too," Matlock said, smiling broadly. "Used to be the best in Vegas, and not too many years ago, either."

"Don't listen to him," Cheryl said to Linda. "When a man is as good a leader as he is, I could have two club feet and still dance well." She tipped the glass of scotch to her lips and drained it in two swift swallows, then collected her purse and stood up. "Well, I must be off."

"Oh," Linda said, "must you?"

"If you want a party tonight, I do. I'm not sure when I'll get back, so you go ahead and have another drink, and I'll see you all at the house later on."

"Goodbye, dear," Marshall said, and kissed his wife lightly on the cheek. He knew there was no turning back for the young wife sitting next to him now. With Cheryl leaving, the stage was set for his seduction, just as they'd been planning for the last thirty days. Yes, he was going to enjoy playing husband this evening with Linda, now that his own wife had made her excuses and left. A slight twinge of anticipation rippled between his thighs as he pictured little Linda nakedly groveling before him.

"Well," he said warmly, turning his attention to the lovely young innocent sitting next to him, "Here's to us, Linda. Here's to us and our getting to know each other better before the night's over."

Linda tipped her glass to his and took a large, deep drink of her Brandy Alexander, her eyes sparkling at her handsome boss over the rim of her cocktail.

Another round of drinks was brought, and the two of them continued to sit in the Rock Wall, talking for almost half an hour. For some reason Linda couldn't explain, she was beginning to feel uneasy about being alone with Marshall Matlock. She already felt wicked and worldly for being out with another man even though it was not a date but it was something else bothering her slightly which she couldn't quite put her finger on. She knew that it was perfectly all right in this day and age for her to be in the company of a nice man like him, as it might not have been in her mother's day. She knew nothing would happen, just as she'd told herself in the ladies room, and Marshall Matlock had been the very soul of gentlemanly discretion. Yet still there was a pervading air of something wrong, something deliciously wrong as though she were skirting some forbidden fate. She tried to recall what might have caused it, but she could find nothing on which to base her small twinge of apprehension. As she set her glass down, she decided to relax and stop being such an old wet blanket, and that the tingling sensations in the depth of her belly were only the result of one too many Brandy Alexanders on an empty stomach.

"Well, my dear," Marshall Matlock eventually said, "shall we drink up and be on the way to my house?"

"Yes," she replied gratefully. "Yes, let's. Maybe your wife will be there with the guests by now."

"Perhaps," Matlock said suavely, but inside his head he was thinking: not a chance, little one. Cheryl won't be where you can see her, and there won't be any guests around to save you now...!


The ride to the Matlock home was beautiful, Linda thought as she sat beside Marshall in his large convertible. The road wound through the lovely wooded hills in back of Greenridge, and she could see out of the windows the flat-lands below with their myriad of twinkling city lights shining like a thousand fireflies. She was impressed by the rolling, well-landscaped grounds around his spacious house when they arrived. But it was quiet, and the house was dark, with no cars parked in the large driveway, and Linda realized that her employer's lovely wife had not yet returned from picking up the other guests. Marshall noticed this as well, and as he drew up the car in front of the double-doored garage, he said jovially, "Well, my dear, we're on our own for a while longer. Come on in, and I'll get things ready for the party, hmmm?"

He shut off the powerful engine, and was hardly out of his side of the car before he was opening the door for her. He offered his hand, and Linda had a fleeting urge to refuse the proffered assistance, but then she took it and allowed the older man to help her out. They walked up the driveway to a crushed oyster-shell path which led around an outcropping of moss-covered rock. She could hear a soft trickling of water as a stream fell pleasantly over the rocks and flowed into a small Oriental pool. The path had a wooden bridge over the water, and then came to the front porch, where a massive wood door was recessed in green tiled framework.

Marshall opened the front door, and Linda followed him into the living room, where he switched on the overhead lights. The lamps were soft and warm, easing Linda's small sense of apprehension, and she gazed around in wonder at the size and luxury of the room. All of the furniture except for a long white English lounge were of the finest Early American maple. One whole wall was glass, with sliding panels so that a person could step out onto the flagstone patio beyond. A large oil painting of the modernistic school hung prominently near a white porcelain fireplace.

"Sit down, my dear, and make yourself comfortable," Matlock said as he crossed the room to a maple console. "Slip out of your shoes, why don't you? I'm sure your feet must be tired after standing on them all evening."

"Thank you." Linda answered, and she did as he suggested, removing her flats and then sitting down on the couch. She drew her bare legs up under her on the cushion, and primly tried to pull her short mini-skirt down as far as it would go.

Matlock leafed through a record album and said over his shoulder: "Would you like a little music while we're waiting?"

"That would be nice," she replied, dimpling. "Something soft and soothing, if you have it."

"I most certainly do, my dear." In a moment, violins and muted horns drifted across the room like a cloud of relaxing warmth. "Van Morrison, I hope you like him?"

"Oh yes, very much." She tucked her legs further beneath her as Marshall Matlock came over and sat down on the couch. She was pleased to see that he didn't try to sit next to her, but actually sat a little further away than was socially necessary. She had been foolish, she thought to herself. Marshall was a handsome, appealing man with a certain allure which fascinated her, and that was the only reason for her slight uneasiness. Herself! And certainly she wasn't going to do anything wrong!

"It is nice, my dear, it is indeed." Matlock closed his eyes and tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch as though the only thing in the room were the strains of the music. For all his aching desire to thrust his rapidly hardening cock up into the narrow slit of her tight little cunt, he knew that to suddenly attack her would be the worst plan he could follow. She would have been pawed half to death by school-boy dates and more than likely by that oaf of a husband of hers, and he figured correctly that before any physical conquest of her tender young flesh, he would have to lessen her mental barriers with a sophisticated approach. And he had just the thing to do it with, too...

He picked up a scrolled silver cigarette case from the table beside him and opened its hinged lid, selecting a thin brown cigarette from its contents. He held out the case.

"Have a cigarette, my dear?"

"No, thank you. I have my own in my purse."

"I noticed that you are just about out. Please try one of mine and see how you like them. They're as mild tasting as your filter-tips, only with more flavor."

"Really? What kind are they?"

"Mexican, my dear," Matlock said, and then to reassure her, he added: "The soil down there makes the tobacco look different."

"Well, I "

He urged the case closer to her hesitating fingers. "Just take a few puffs slowly and see, my dear. Go ahead. If you don't like it, put it out, and I'll mix you a drink."

"All... All right," she answered falteringly, and took a cigarette, bending her head so that Marshall could light it for her.

"Slowly, slowly," Matlock instructed her. "That's the way they taste better." Linda watched him as he took a drag and inhaled very gently. She followed his example, and found a strange but not unpleasant taste. She inhaled deeper on the next puff and held it down a few seconds. After three or four inhalations, she could hardly feel it go down her throat at all, it was so smooth. She continued to smoke, holding the air down for as long as she could each time...

"Do you feel anything?" Matlock asked blandly as she neared the end of her first cigarette.

"Why yes, I do. I feel... feel very nice," Linda said in a voice that didn't seem to be her own. She glanced at the man sitting beside her, and he suddenly looked to be miles away. "What... What kind of cigarette did you say this was, Marshall?"

He answered with a soft chuckle. "Marijuana."

"Marijuana!" She had heard about the drug only fleetingly, and then mostly to do with its being smoked at wild parties. "Will... Will this make me do things I don't... I don't want to?"

"No, of course not, my dear," Matlock scoffed. "You smoke it because it doesn't make you dull and sleepy like alcohol can. It leaves you mellow and feeling smooth, that's all. Isn't that how you feel now?"

"Yes, Marshall, yes it does..."

Matlock smiled back at her, passing her another thin brown cigarette to replace the one she'd smoked. Without thinking, Linda pressed it to her lips and pulled deeply, feeling this one heightening the pleasant sensation the first had caused. She felt strangely and euphorically bodyless and liked it, and the longer she held the curling smoke in her lungs, the softer her world became. She noticed the lights of the room becoming fuzzy, but the thin, brown cigarettes had dulled any fears she had about what she was doing... or should be doing. She was beginning not to mind anything now with the delicious warmth of the marijuana filtering through her blood and mixing headily with the alcohol she had already consumed. She could feel her flesh tingling all over deep inside, deep down where she had never felt anything before in her life.

The corrupting movie-maker caught the almost imperceptible relaxing of Linda Daniel's natural defenses, and inwardly gloated with obscene delight. He continued to talk with her as he watched her smoke the strong marijuana, his tones as warm and calm as the music and the cigarettes. He was experienced in the sensing of the most subtle of moods, knowing perfectly when to retreat or advance, and he moved inexorably from innocuous subjects at first to other, more intimate discussions. He was well aware that even the mention of sexual things would produce a passionate response in the drugged soul of this innocent young woman and cause a sensual tingle which would fill her slender, firm body until she would not be able to resist it... Or him.

"How are you feeling now, my dear?" he asked, handing her a third marijuana cigarette.

"I feel so wonderful, Marshall. I wish I never had to go home."

"It must be miserable, there all alone without a man."

"Even with Ben, it's " Linda caught herself just before she blurted out all her innermost troubles. She put the back of one slim hand to her mouth in a gesture of silence.

Matlock moved closer, sliding himself across the cushions of the couch until he was almost touching her voluptuous young body. "What is it, my dear?" he asked in a soothing voice. "Tell me, what is the problem. Maybe I can help you."

Linda shook her head, taking another deep puff of her cigarette in an effort to still her beating heart. "N-No," she managed to whisper. "I... I can't tell."

"You should confide in somebody, Linda. I can see that you're very upset about Ben for some reason, and it's no good to keep it bottled up inside you."

"M-Maybe not, but I can't." She swallowed thickly, her mind dreamy from the effects of the marijuana and brandy. "It... It has to do with sex, you see."

"Everybody has sex lives, my dear. In this day and age of sexual freedom, sex is talked and shown everywhere you go. Look at the advertisements, the books, the movies I show at my theater. You shouldn't be afraid to talk about sex with me..."

Linda was dimly aware of Marshall Matlock touching her shoulder with his hand and draw her closer to him. His arm feels good, she thought to herself, and so comforting... She pulled again on the cigarette in her lips. The musky odor of Marshall' cologne filled her nostrils, stimulating her more, and she allowed herself to be pressed close against the firm supporting chest of her employer. She lowered her head against his muscular leanness and thought wretchedly of her marriage to Ben and how he hadn't held her in such a warm embrace for an awfully long time.

Marshall felt the soft, resilient flesh of the unsuspecting young wife press tightly to his own body, and her firmly ripened breasts pulsing against his chest. He let the soft strands of her honey-colored hair brush against his nostrils as he whispered to her: "Maybe I can help, Linda. Please let me help you."

"No," she moaned against him. "No, nothing can make it right."

"Shhh, you're getting too upset, my dear."

"Oh, Marshall, I'm miserable!" she heard herself mewl involuntarily. "I'm so terribly miserable!"

"Then tell me about it, my dear. You'll feel better."

Then, haltingly, she found herself unable to stop from pouring out her heart to him. Even though she knew she should be more discrete about her marital secrets, she was gripped by an overwhelming urge to confess to this strong handsome man who was holding her as her father had after a nightmare. Perhaps it was his soft, reassuring voice, or the influences of the brandy and the cigarettes, but whatever was urging her on, it was uncontrollable, and she unburdened her misery to Marshall Matlock. She told him in half-sobbing, broken words about what had happened to her that last night before Ben had left for New York, and the nights which had preceded it in her less-than-perfect marriage, and she even included the sordid incident in Ben's parked car when they'd been engaged. It all came out, and when she was finished, she pressed her tear-streaked face tight against Marshall' chest, sobbing as though her heart was broken.

The lecherous older man stroked her hair lightly in gentle comfort, and then he stroked the satiny skin of her arm, a small smile playing across his handsome tanned features. So... just as he thought! A rutting boar of a husband, and a frigid mother! And yet, he could tell that irately Linda was a very passionate woman beneath her surface, only waiting for the proper combination to stroke her furnace to the boiling point. And he was just the man to do it.

By God, he was... and would be tonight!

In the same tone of voice as he'd been using all along, Matlock said softly into her ear, "Don't think about it any more, my dear. Don't think about how your husband took you all those times so brutally... Don't think how he hurt you inside .."

Despite herself, Linda was beginning to slowly experience an almost soporific dream as she remained huddled in Matlock's strong, gentle embrace. His words were soothing and hypnotic to her, and though she was aware that he was telling her not to think of what she had done and felt with Ben, the visions were more clear in her mind than ever. She didn't want to think about it, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She clutched the thin material of Matlock's shirt, finding security in his masculine nearness and the gentle stroking of his hand on her bare arm...

Matlock could feel her warmly throbbing breasts harden beneath her thin sweater, and he knew his words were having the desired effect on her mind. She was thinking about it, seeing her and her husband mentally, and the images were causing her unmistakable, if unwanted, arousal in her body. It's working, he thought gleefully. I'm going to fuck this bitch yet!

"Don't think how he would press his naked body down on yours and force his hardened penis deep up inside your tender vagina with brutal force. Don't think how he would pump up and down frantically inside you..."

Strangely, perversely, the images of Ben raping her painfully swollen pussy came back to her a hundredfold. The marijuana and brandy swirled heatedly through her bloodstream, and her nerve-ends seemed to tingle for reasons she could not understand. She could feel a taunting tendril of some unmentionable sensation creep slowly through her loins, and a strange moistness seep out from between her tightly clenched thighs to wet the soft white nylon of her panties. Her nipples were hardening under her brassiere, even though she willed them not to with all her strength. The images continued to grow of their own volition, and Marshall was too close, too exciting.

"Don't think about you and Ben, Linda. Don't think about how he was fucking you. Yes, fucking, my dear... fucking is exactly the right word to describe how he slid in and out of your sweet little cunt until he came with his sperm deep up inside you."

Matlock could feel Linda trembling beneath his arm, and now with other emotions than just misery and shame, he thought victoriously. Her loneliness, her physical needs, the aphrodisiac marijuana, and the alcohol in her blood were all working in harmony, on her basic sensual nature, breaking down the barriers of her false prudishness and baring the hot, wild woman beneath. He couldn't control his eagerly pulsating cock from leaping into full erection at the idea of sliding his own male hardness up inside the pussy which her husband had foolishly rejected. Damn, he couldn't wait another moment! She was breathing faster and faster with every word he cooed into her ear, and if there was ever going to be a time to make his play for her, it was right now! Now was the time to strike!


"No, Linda," Marshall Matlock whispered with rising heat. "No, don't think about how your husband fucked you. Think how much better it will be when I make love to you! No man has ever made love to you... gentle, blissful love... but I will. I'll show you lead you to the joys you've missed."

He pulled her on her side so that they were facing each other on the long, wide couch, and then he ground his loins tightly into hers, sliding his hand up over the soft roundness of her buttocks beneath her short mini-skirt.

"Oh, Marshall, no!" Linda whimpered into the wetness of his mouth as he leaned over and kissed her hard upon the lips. She tried to pull away from him, but she could not seem to find the energy to resist his caressing touch and delicious kiss, the evil effects of the marijuana gluing her to his arms. She squirmed against the cushion of the couch, forcing the crotch band of her panties deeper into the crevice of her inner thighs. Its smoothness excited the sensitive pink lips of her vagina. She could feel tiny throbs beginning to pulse in the little bud of her clitoris, and she bit her lower lips tightly to hold back the forbidden sensations that were slowly building up between her legs. Dear God, what was happening to her?

Her alcohol and marijuana-dazed body stiffened as she felt her handsome employer begin massaging her softly trembling buttocks from behind. As he ground his loins harder against her, his mouth still locked wetly to hers, she gasped and held her breath, feeling the rising hardness under his pants pressing into her own unwantedly moistened genitals. She clenched her eyes tightly shut, fighting her new unquenchable passions, but the soft fingers of his hand nipping teasingly against her inner buttocks and the hardness of his pulsating penis grinding into her loins brought further moans of helpless submission to her lips.

"Oh, Marshall, please don't," she mewled as she felt more lewd delicious feelings rippling across the surface of her flesh. "N-No one but my husband has ever touched me like this!"

"Always a first time for every thing, my dear," he laughed softly, dropping his other hand down between their tightly merged bodies to the flatness of her belly.

"Ohhh, don't do this to me please!" she sobbed. Her body jerked slightly as she felt Matlock's fingers hooking and sliding the material of her short skirt up the front of her naked thighs. She moaned and tried again to pull away, using all her will power to overcome the strange new sensations that were unwantedly building up deep in the pit of her stomach.

"My dear, what you need is to be made love to properly for just once," Matlock whispered. "Just once. You'll never have to be unhappy with what you're getting at home again!"

Linda gasped and held her breath as she felt the hem of her skirt reach the top of her skirt reach the top of her thighs and his fingers suddenly come in searing contact with the softness of her naked flesh. An electrifying shock danced along the nerves of her inner thighs as she felt him trying to slip his fingers slowly under the tight elastic leg band of her panties. She squirmed desperately but futilely against the unyielding strength of his embrace, whimpering as the full impact of this handsome older man wanting to make love to her burst through the lulling effects of the marijuana and brandy. God, what had come over him? And worse, what had come over her? They were both married, and just because her husband was three thousand miles away was no excuse for her to act like some whore! She had to get out of this awful mess before it was too late!

"Please, Mr. Matlock," she sobbed helplessly, cringing against the back of the couch. "Oh, please let me go! I feel like a fool behaving this way with you. I love Ben no matter what, and I can't do anything I'd be sorry for later. I just can't, Mr. Matlock!"

"Marshall, my dear. Call me Marshall, remember?" He smiled paternally down at the fearful young wife. "And why can't you enjoy yourself a little on the side? Nobody would know. Your husband is out in New York, and besides, he's probably balling some pick-up he's made in a bar right now!"

Linda moaned in self-pity. The suspicions she'd been harboring about Ben being unfaithful to her pierced her heart like a dagger as she heard Matlock's words. "I-I don't care," she said miserably, knowing she did. "I would know what I had done, and that would be enough. I'd never be able to face my husband again! I've gone too far as it is!"

"Too late, my dear," Matlock chuckled with a cold, cruel glint in his eyes, as he decided to really take the initiative, "I want you, and deep down inside you know you want me to make love to you. And by God, that's what's going to happen."

Linda tried to speak, but she couldn't, only able to press herself tightly back against the couch in disbelief. She watched, mesmerized, as he began stripping his clothes from his body with his free hand. She wanted to close her eyes to shut out the horror, but before she could find the strength, he was completely naked. His thick, hard penis stood out from beneath the firm muscles of his tanned abdomen like the menacing shaft of a heavy, blunt spear. He leaned toward her, still holding her thighs down with one hand, and stroking the heavy uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over the bulbous head of his hardened cock with the other.

"Bet your husband never had anything like this to slide into you," he gloated proudly. He continued his tormenting of the terrified girl, watching the contorted expressions of fear and unwilling arousal cross over her face.

Linda tried to avert her eyes, but against her will, she found that her gaze was dropping again to the hard fleshy erection he was holding in his hand. God, it was thick! In spite of her fear, her drugged mind wondered how a woman could take such a thing inside of her without being split completely apart.

Matlock was built and he knew it, and he hunched near her for a moment longer reveling in the awe the size of his cock was bringing to her eyes. Then he leaned over her and hissed, "Are you going to take your clothes off or shall I do it for you?"

Linda gasped and held her breath as she felt the hem of her skirt reach the top of her thighs and his fingers suddenly come in searing contact with the softness of her naked flesh. An electrifying shock danced along the nerves of her inner thighs as she felt him trying to slip his fingers slowly under the tight elastic leg band of her panties. She squirmed desperately but futilely against the unyielding strength of his embrace, whimpering as the full impact of this handsome older man wanting to make love to her burst through the lulling effects of the marijuana and brandy. God, what had come over him? And worse, what had come over her? They were both married, and just because her husband was three thousand miles away was no excuse for her to act like some whore! She had to get out of this awful mess before it was too late!

"Please, Mr. Matlock," she sobbed helplessly, cringing against the back of the couch. "Oh, please let me go! I feel like a fool behaving this way with you. I love Ben no matter what, and I can't do anything I'd be sorry for later. I just can't, Mr. Matlock!"

"Marshall, my dear. Call me Marshall, remember?" He smiled paternally down at the fearful young wife. "And why can't you enjoy yourself a little on the side? Nobody would know. Your husband is out in New York, and besides, he's probably balling some pick-up he's made in a bar right now!"

Linda moaned in self-pity. The suspicions she'd been harboring about Ben being unfaithful to her pierced her heart like a dagger as she heard Matlock's words. "I-I don't care," she said miserably, knowing she did. "I would know what I had done, and that would be enough. I'd never be able to face my husband again! I've gone too far as it is!"

"Too late, my dear," Matlock chuckled with a cold, cruel glint in his eyes, as he decided to really take the initiative, "I want you, and deep down inside you know you want me to make love to you. And by God, that's what's going to happen."

Linda tried to speak, but she couldn't, only able to press herself tightly back against the couch in disbelief. She watched, mesmerized, as he began stripping his clothes from his body with his free hand. She wanted to close her eyes to shut out the horror, but before she could find the strength, he was completely naked. His thick, hard penis stood out from beneath the firm muscles of his tanned abdomen like the menacing shaft of a heavy, blunt spear. He leaned toward her, still holding her thighs down with one hand, and stroking the heavy uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over the bulbous head of his hardened cock with the other.

"Bet your husband never had anything like this to slide into you," he gloated proudly. He continued his tormenting of the terrified girl, watching the contorted expressions of fear and unwilling arousal cross over her face.

Linda tried to avert her eyes, but against her will, she found that her gaze was dropping again to the hard fleshy erection he was holding in his hand. God, it was thick! In spite of her fear, her drugged mind wondered how a woman could take such a thing inside of her without being split completely apart.

Matlock was built and he knew it, and he hunched near her for a moment longer reveling in the awe the size of his cock was bringing to her eyes. Then he leaned over her and hissed, "Are you going to take your clothes off or shall I do it for you?"

"D-Don't touch me," Linda finally managed to stammer through her immobilizing euphoria. But she knew there was nothing to do to stop him now, for the small part of her mind that was still rational was far too weak to fight both his strength and her own body's strangely rising sensations. This naked man was going to ravish her helpless flesh no matter how much she pleaded with him not to!

He reached out and drew her hard against him, cupping her terrified young face in his palms. With a triumphant grin he pressed his wet lips tightly down over hers again, thrusting his tongue deep into the warm depths of her mouth. She sagged limply on the couch, feeling the hardness of his fully exposed penis digging into the softness of her stomach. A last faint thought of trying to tear herself away flickered hopelessly through her mind, but faded with the tender caress of his hands pressing into the sides of her cheeks.

"That's my lovely girl," he breathed into her mouth softly. "I'll be nice and easy... so gentle with you. You'll see."

Linda was dimly aware of his hands leaving her face and snaking around her body to the hemline of her sweater. Almost as if he had hypnotized her into submission, she allowed him to draw the thin pullover up over her breasts and off her head and arms. The snaps of her brassiere came next and she heard him mutter a faint sigh of lusty appreciation as he dropped it to the floor and her full white breasts burst into the warm living room air. He reached behind her again to the zipper at the back of her skirt, and with one swift downward motion, he opened it away from her ripely flaring buttocks. She could feel the sensual rush of air against her thighs as he pulled the skirt from her. She swayed dizzily on the couch as she willingly arched her hips permitting him to pull her white nylon panties slowly down over the softness of her rounded buttocks and let them drop to the small skimpy pile of her other clothing on the floor.

There was nothing left. He moved her feet up and now she lay stretched out completely naked on the couch, hearing him panting on his knees beside her. The heady smoke of the marijuana wafted sensuously through her blood, intensifying the uncontrollable sensations which were unwantedly directing her actions. She gritted her teeth together, resisting as best she could, but her utter helplessness and the thought of her husband making love to some other woman were too much for the tormented wife's confused, bedrugged mind. She could only squirm back a little, whimpering as the tip of his finger found the narrow tender crevice of her vagina and thrust gently into it, parting the soft pubic hair and making sudden delicious contact with the hotly throbbing head of her tiny clitoris. She was wet and sensitive from the unwanted desire that permeated her entire being, and she sucked in her breath tightly to hold back the sigh of pleasure she felt growing deep in her chest. There was nothing she could seem to do to fight him back, and tears of disgrace cascaded warmly down over her face as in her shame she found herself reacting involuntarily to the tingling caresses of her overly sensitive breasts and vagina. She was unable to keep from widening her legs, and found her buttocks suddenly undulating in an involuntary up and down rhythm to the light teasing of his fingers sliding between her thighs...

And all this while, Cheryl Matlock was sitting with a lewd grin of excitement on her face as she concentrated on the large plate glass before her. She had come directly from the Dew Drop Inn, parking her car in the garage where it could not be seen, and gone to the now pitch-dark den beside the living room, where a two-way mirror was installed. She could clearly see all the action, but from the other side, the glass was only a mirror which reflected images, and now she sat sipping a tall Scotch as she watched her husband progress with his seduction.

Damn! Cheryl thought. Marshall really knows how to get a woman going! She could feel a slight twinge of jealousy overcoming her as she studied his face and saw the unmistakable signs she knew so well. Her husband liked to fuck any woman he could lay his hands on, and that was all there was to it. But what he was doing now to that innocent blonde, Linda, was going to let her, Cheryl, inside that same girl later. She leaned back with the obscene thought of those long slim legs wrapped tight around her as she shoved her tongue deep inside that warm, tender pussy. By God, she'd show little Linda what loving was all about! She could feel moisture seeping from her throbbing cuntal lips at the idea as she turned her attention back to the two naked bodies writhing on the wide couch on the other side of the mirror. Small beads of perspiration began to form on her brow from the excitement she always felt when she watched her husband fucking another woman half to death.

Through half-slit eyes, Linda could see the shadowy form of her naked employer crouching between her open legs that were splayed like angel's wings on the soft, wide couch. She could feel the flat palms of his sweating hands pushing against the softness of her inner thighs, and she watched with gathering horror as his head dipped slowly down... lower... lower... and then!

"Ohhhh!" she jerked, as his hot moist lips closed over the hair-fringed mound at the base of her belly. His eager face disappeared from her view into the soft fleece of her pubic hair as he planted wet tickling kisses on the still resisting crevice, his tongue flicking lizard-like at the quivering opening of her cunt.

"Ohhhh God, don't! Please don't!" she whimpered, trying desperately to screw her naked buttocks back down from the hot tongue flicking mercilessly at her defenseless vagina. His answer was a lewd chuckle and a further stab into the tight fleshy slit of her moistly pink flesh.

"Ahhhggggggg!" she moaned in undisguised humiliation, her head falling back on the cushions as his tongue speared the involuntarily swelling lips of her cunt. In spite of her terror and revulsion at the horrible perversion being done to her helpless genitals, tiny wisps of forbidden pleasure began to burn deep down inside her belly, and tingling little goosebumps rippled across her quivering belly and full heaving breasts.

"Oh God, I can't, I can't let you do this!" she sobbed helplessly, fighting the torturing sensations that were steadily building out of control through her naked young body. She clenched her teeth tight together and fought with all her will against the growing flames that were threatening to burst into uncontrollable fire and devour her resistance. But it was a losing battle as Marshall Matlock sucked and licked ceaselessly at her increasingly submitting loins, and her drugged mind hopelessly sensed her love-starved body beginning to shamelessly desert her. Her smooth rounded buttocks jerked up involuntarily toward his wetly darting tongue, sending more delicious spasms of sensation coursing through her raw nerve ends.

Marshall felt her surrender and, with a savage grin, he thrust his thick wet tongue deeper into the hotly quivering sheath of her responding vagina. He worked hungrily, feeling the soft moist pubic hair brushing tantalizingly against his cheeks, knowing that she was far too gone now to fight anything he wanted to do to her. As his lips rounded and covered the wetly clasping cunt before him, he could hear low guttural moans from the girl whose soft warm thighs were now closing spontaneously around the sides of his moving head. He could feel her pink wet flesh moving around his long extended tongue as her cuntal walls opened and closed in a sucking motion, attempting on their own to pull him deeper into her. He had never seen anyone so hot, even with the marijuana, and he knew she was now completely at his mercy and loving every moment of it. She needed fucking bad and she was going to get it, her body lost in the heat of her arousal.

"Ohhhh! Ohhhh!" she moaned, the cruel realization of her total loss of control hitting her with shame and humiliation. But her thoughts were fleeting, all that mattering now to her being the delightful shafts of pleasure piercing through her nakedly quivering flesh like tiny prickling needles of fire. She had never expected sex to be like this, that any man could bring such things from her body. She reached down and desperately tangled her fingers in his hair, guiding his face deeper to the spreading lips of her hair-lined pussy, splaying her legs wider with abandonment to give him greater access.

The evil movie owner could stand it no longer. His penis was incited to a hardness he could no longer control, and he had to fuck this innocent young wife before he exploded his cum all over the couch. He grabbed her flailing legs behind the knees and shoved them roughly back against her shoulders, slithering up her sweat-streaked body at the same time. His long rigid cock brushed against her saliva-wet pubic hair, peeling her narrow pink vaginal slit pulsing its lips with open invitation.

Linda could see Marshall Matlock hovering over her through her passion and drug-dimmed eyes. She could feel the hardness of his thick fleshy penis lying the full length of her quaking pink cunt, the jerking head of his cock throbbing between her wide spread buttocks. He insinuated it in a maddening tease that caused her to twist her hips up toward it, her hungry pussy searching desperately for its hard blood-filled tip. Forgotten now were her morals, her marriage, her vows to Ben. Nothing mattered any longer except to have this man's penis far up inside her! Her belly was screaming for it!

Linda felt the lips of her eagerly quivering vagina being forced open. The elastic rimmed tightness resisted for a moment and then gave way before his hard cruel pressure. The pain was harsh and she mechanically clenched her muscles against it as a long low wail came from deep within her throat. Matlock shoved again, enjoying her screams of pain, ramming forward and sinking his lust-inflated cock all the way to the hilt. Her legs jerked out wide on either side of his lean muscular body as she screwed her buttocks deep down into the cushions in an attempt to escape the sudden brutal impalement.

"Nooooooo! It hurts! It hurts worse than Ben's!" she cried out. She felt as though her body was being torn down the middle and that she would be ripped in half from this giant male member embedded so deep in her belly. Her face was contorted with the agony of his vicious stab inside her, her lips curled back from her teeth, and pleading whimpers coming tumbling from her swollen lips. God, oh God, she couldn't take it! She couldn't!

Matlock held her there for a moment, savoring the spectacle of this innocent young wife impaled helplessly under him with his huge pulsating prick buried deep in her tight little cunt. She'd never had it this deep, he gloated to himself as he pinned her back in the lewd humiliating position. He wished that her stupid husband could see her now, spread-eagled this way with a strange man making her scream and yell. And then he felt her vagina contract involuntarily as she flexed her inner muscles to relieve the impossible pressure. He throbbed his penis gently, expanding it inside her, but still not moving his body.

"Ahhhhgggg," she whimpered through bar