A wife and mother wishes for some colour in her contented but somewhat dull life

A wife and mother wishes for some colour in her
contented but somewhat dull life. She gets it. A
fantasy of having sex with men half her age becomes
more than just a fantasy, more than she hoped for, a
lot more. Part one of a pleasant and friendly rape
tale.

Often it’s the little things that change your life. Two
lines of an old song, a trace of scent you all but
forgot existed, a face in a crowd looking just like
someone you knew and cared about… It sparks a
thought, encourages a gesture, the little gears get in
motion, the synapses start firing. The change is just
an idea, weak, barely noticeable and unlikely to
survive, but it snowballs on until there it is – a
different life than the one you once knew. A new life,
born of a small, insignificant seed.

Then again, some lives take much more work to change.
In Susan’s case it took anger, desperation, impatience,
stubbornness, alcohol and frustration, all cemented
together through a string of bad decisions and wrong
choices. Looking back on unfortunate events, it is
often easy to say they could have been avoided with
just slightly more attention to detail.

Susan will look back on the events of that night and
what she will see is going to make her hate and despise
herself. The hurt will pass, the shame may be
suppressed, perhaps even forgotten, but the guilt will
stay. Some changes are irreversible and this is exactly
what Susan inflicted upon herself. There will be scars,
oh, yes, there will be scars. It didn’t just happen,
though, no. She brought it on. She was looking for it,
she was asking for it. That much is clear to her. Susan
isn’t stupid.

It doesn’t take a stupid woman to be frustrated with
her life. It doesn’t take a stupid woman to be angry at
her husband. Hell, it doesn’t take a stupid woman to
imagine that one evening spent away from home,
responsibility gauge turned off for the occasion, will
somehow bring some colour into the grey. Not that grey
becomes any easier to bear tomorrow.

No, the home, the kids, the church, the family
weekends, the same commercials on every stupid TV
channel, the same bed every night with the same words,
gestures, foreplays, main courses, same moans and
sighs, well rehearsed hundreds time over, they stay the
same. The same problems, the same solutions, the birth
and care machine running within the advertised
parameters… Surely, there is no reason to complain?
Either way, your warranty period is over and has been
for a long time. No money back, no free drinks. Sorry.

Susan slammed the door behind her. Looking back on it,
it makes so little sense. How childish is it to walk
out of the family house, refusing to tell her husband
where she will be or even when she will be back? Fuck
him, she thought, let him wonder. He deserves it. An
evening with the girls, that’s all he needs to know.
Let him wonder whether those girls sport penises in
their underwear.

Let him wonder whether those ‘girls’ will just have a
few drinks, a few laughs and the obligatory few rounds
of gossip, or whether they will fuck his pretty
suburban wife, make her swallow some cock, come onto
and into places he could never think of and perhaps
even call her some names he’d never dare let pass his
lips.

But anyway. That was not the plan. That was a passing
thought in Susan’s head. A chuckle on a back seat of a
taxi while riding to the café. My wife, a slut. Hahaha,
now there’s an idea. Let him wonder, let the bastard
hurt a little, let him feel threatened, insecure and
humiliated. He knows that men like to look at his wife.
Come on, he is not stupid, he can tell his wife is
attractive, he can see men are attracted to her,
despite her age, pregnancies, despite her suburban
ennui, he can see the stares in restaurants, church,
theatre.

Let him fry a little tonight. Let him wonder whether
Susan’s had enough and whether she’s decided to accept
one of those unspoken invitations. He could see the way
she dressed, he could see the make up she put on. He
could see the skirt she decided to wear was somewhat
shorter than what usually passes for decency in soccer
mom circles. He could see the cleavage that was
suggesting more than just a friendly round of drinks
with her female friends.

He could see the high heels that will no doubt turn
heads of men around Susan and produce comments about
her legs and behind. Let’s give the man his due – he is
not stupid. And Susan knew he was not going to try to
stop her go out dressed like that – that would not be
in his rational, mild nature – but she also knew he
would be worrying. Oh, yes, let him worry. Let him
worry what happened to his wife so that she got dressed
like a slut, refused to even speak to him respectfully
on her way out and click-click-clicked on her high
heels towards the taxi that awaited.

What her husband could not see was the face of a taxi
driver in the rear view mirror. Nervous, quick glances
framed by drops of sweat, glances hoping not to be
noticed by the leggy passenger in the back seat and yet
hoping to steal enough time so that the image of a
tall, sexy woman riding towards her favourite café
dressed like she is intending to make someone happy,
remains firmly etched into the mind. Susan chuckled
again.

Of course she noticed the driver was looking at her. He
was young and not looking particularly clean. A few
ideas and images passing through her head sent a
pleasant impulse down her spine. Remembering that those
same ideas, albeit probably in a censored form should
be forming in her husband’s head at exactly the same
time made her feel even better.

Dressing like a slut to piss your husband off is hardly
a sin, or even a crime. It’s not even something one
would call eminently stupid. Getting drunk is slightly
higher on the list of stupid gestures but then again,
sometimes we recognise despair only when we’re halfway
to the oblivion. It’s just something people do. Those
who haven’t been there may feel free to cast the first
stone etc.

So, yes, she got comments from her friends. Yes, all
three of them commented on her legs, her skirt, her
cleavage, her make up, this is just something girls do.
It doesn’t matter whether they are fourteen, sixteen,
twenty five, or, as in this case, in their forties.
This is a girl thing. Susan laughed and sipped her
cocktails as her friends used the words like ‘foxy’,
‘minx’ and felt the pleasant tremors in her lower belly
when the words jokingly changed into ‘slut’ and
‘fucktoy’.

It’s those moments when enjoying being sexy just
because you are does wonders for one’s self-esteem.
This is your fuel, Susan, it’ll keep you running for
weeks, months, if you’re lucky. Cross your legs again,
look at how sexy they look in black stockings, feel the
fabric slither, hear the sound of your long, manicured
fingernails produce absently scratching against your
thigh.

Susan felt content. Being a woman, an attractive woman
among other women who all acknowledged her looks and
made very clear comments about her sex appeal is good.
The only thing better is throwing some men in the mix,
right?

Was it the third or fourth cocktail in when Mick and
Shane joined the group of merry women at their table?
Susan was not sure. The other thing she normally
wouldn’t be sure about was the logic behind having two
men barely half her age join the group of female
friends chatting about their husbands, sons, jobs, TV
shows and sex. Normally, that wouldn’t have happened at
all.

Susan was surprised it did happen. Blame it on alcohol.
Everybody would anyway. They did have quite a bit to
drink, all of them, and they did channel their
conversation into some kinky directions so far. Two
young gentlemen approaching a bunch of ripe women
(loud, somewhat indecent women, at that) politely
asking whether they could join, pointing out at the
crowded tables around them etc., well, that sounded
logical at the moment.

If we are to throw any accusations at Susan, reliance
on logic should be one of them. Dressing like a slut
and getting drunk and somewhat foul-mouthed is one
thing. Believing that there is an undercurrent pattern
in the world that will protect people who fail to
protect themselves is quite another. Every day spent on
Earth means you learn a difficult lesson. Susan will
just pay for the lesson considerably more than the
usual fee.

Mick and Shane, both apparently of Irish origin (which
may or may not account for the thin moustache of the
former and the wild, curly hair of the latter) were
apparently quick to assess the situation and adjust
their tactics accordingly. Susan smiled in her mind.
They were young and horny. They probably knew that they
had no chance with a bunch of married women in their
forties. But they decided to give their best under the
circumstances. This is amusing, Susan thought, this is
getting better and better.

It did get better. Or worse, depending on the
perspective. Susan could notice Mick’s and Shane’s
gazes repeatedly skim over her breasts, legs and face,
in quick feverish bursts. Boys will be boys,
apparently, she thought. She smiled again, this time
not only in her mind. Let them have some more, why not?

Next time Mick’s eyes went downwards to get another
shot of her long, slender legs she looked straight at
him to show him she knew what was going on. Then she
smiled (pre-emptying his possible reaction of panic and
embarrassment) and crossed her legs, slowly,
seductively, just for him.

He noticed. He couldn’t have not noticed. Everybody
noticed anyway. Shane noticed it, and her friends
noticed it. That should have made her feel self-
conscious in a less than positive way but it didn’t.
Instead, it made her feel sexier and sluttier than
before. The evening just got nastier than she had hoped
for. And it felt good.

Is there room for accusations here? Certainly, what
Susan did crosses over into immoral territory? Then
again, it just went on so naturally. As they say, one
thing leads to another.

And another. And another. How many drinks were there in
the end? Susan will not be able to tell. Not tomorrow,
not ever. Either way, there will be more serious
matters to occupy her mind. The things kept leading one
to another with seamless ease worthy of a good pulp
novel.

The conversation at the table gradually found itself
confined in a triangle between Mick, Shane and Susan.
The rest were locked out. Realistically, there wouldn’t
be room for one more as sexual innuendo, of a subtle
and less subtle kind, got passed between the three of
them. Susan was looking at the men’s faces as they grew
more and more aroused with her ambiguous suggestions,
half-jokes and the way she kept changing the position
in her seat.

They want to fuck me, she said to herself. They would
like to strip me and fuck me right here if the
circumstances allowed. They probably never hoped to
find a woman my age here, looking the way I do, acting
like a sex crazed whore, like I do. I am sure they both
have raging hard-ons in their baggy, faux-military
style trousers.

Susan crossed her legs once again, slowly, loving every
second of it. Yes, just as they must have had
erections, so were her panties wet with the excitement
the evening provided. It was better than she had hoped
for. She’d hoped for quick glances from men around her,
perhaps a name or two thrown at her in the street by
youths acting bold in front of their friends. That
would have been enough.

What she got here was so much better, so much more
arousing. Two young men drooling over her, a verbal
fuck session just barely disguised as a café
conversation between almost strangers. Susan loved it.
She will go home soon enough. She will go home and
tease her husband until she admits it was just a proper
night with the girls. She would fuck him too. But if he
is not ‘down’ with it (as Mick and Shane would put it),
she had her vibrator ready. Oh, yes, that will be a
perfect punchline to a good evening. An orgasm
concluding hours of deeper and deeper arousal and
shameless, hot flirting with strangers half her age.

Let us discuss guilt now. It wouldn’t exactly be true
to say that Susan didn’t feel any guilt. After all,
some of the things she said would make her blush
quickly in any other situation. Some of the looks she
directed at Mick and Shane would make her husband very
angry if he were there to witness them. But, she
thought, after all, this is just childish flirtation.
There is no deeper meaning to any of this. I know that,
they know that, there is no chapter two, no bad
consequences. There is no harm in this.

If there is one thing that Susan takes away from this
night, which she can use later in life, let’s hope it
is the knowledge of harm. Harm is always there. Harm is
always around, infinitely patient, just awaiting an
invitation. Susan produced a king-size invitation,
complete with golden print and calligraphic
handwriting. No matter how drunk, horny and desperate
one gets, accepting a ride home from a pair of total
strangers usually sounds like a bad idea.

Susan usually knew bad ideas when she saw them. And, it
is fair to say that she knew Mick and Shane offering to
give her a ride home was a barely disguised suggestion
of sex. She did refuse at first. Then they argued. More
jokes. More innuendo. More pleasant tingling between
her legs. These guys wanted her so bad. She could see
the bulges in their trousers. Why not prolong the
fantasy a bit longer? As long as she is in control, it
will be fine.

Control. One thing Susan was not in control of was that
pair of long, slender legs, dressed in those slutty
stockings and those fuck-me shoes. She did accept
Shane’s help in getting up and leaned on him on their
way out. Her friends cheered. At least she thinks they
did.

2.

Which part of town was this anyway? Susan’s head
cleared a little. A tiny little bit. There are
advantages to speeding after all, like the cool air
that blew in her face through the window, making her
less dizzy. She wasn’t sure how long the ride was
taking though. Long enough to have to remove Mick’s
hand from her shoulder twice so far. He was in a back
seat, behind her and, yes, they both laughed about it.
But now that she looked around, she started to wonder.

“What part of town is this anyway?” she asked, as if
this was another in the line of jokes for tonight. All
of them laughed. “Where are you taking me boys?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, eh?” Mick said from the
back “Wouldn’t she like to know, eh, Shane, eh?

Shane laughed, nodding in approval.

“No, seriously,” started Susan. “I have to get home…
once.” They all laughed at this but Susan thought the
message she was sending might not be clear enough so
she added “Seriously, my husband will be worried.” That
was the first time she ever mentioned her husband this
evening even though it was obvious from the start that
she was married. She just thought that mentioning him
will make them aware of the generation gap the social
gap and everything else that seems to have been erased
in the last couple of hours.

“Relax, ma’am” Shane said, turning a corner. “The hubby
won’t have to worry for too long now.” He looked into
the rear view mirror and stopped the car.

Once the engine was off, the silence in the car became
strange. Neither Shane nor Mick said anything. Susan
felt there was some kind of a change in the air. It
couldn’t just have been the engine going off. The radio
was still on, the insect chatter and bursts of tiny
white noise.

“Where are we?” She didn’t like this any more. She
didn’t like the fact that she didn’t even know what
time it was. Perhaps drinking so much was not the
brightest of ideas. There will be some headache
tomorrow morning. Oh, yes.

“No, just relax, ma’am, seriously.” Shane spoke slowly,
reassuringly. The street around the car looked rather
deserted. “It’s cool. We’re at my place. I thought we
could have another drink there, have a few more laughs
and then we’ll take you home to your hubby and kids.”

Her kids?

They knew about her kids? She did mention her kids
then. Oh, God. What else did she mention and failed to
remember or even register? Susan, you stupid bitch.

You stupid bitch.

When guilt kicks in, full volume, three dimensions,
life size it’s usually too late. Call it a glitch in
the design of human beings.

“No, no, no”, Susan said, trying to give her voice a
lightweight tone. “We had enough drinks and we had more
than enough laughs.” Not showing your fear is usually
good survival tactic. Isn’t it?

Not necessarily so. Not when you’ve already shown too
much. The change has started. Susan’s life went down
the wrong path. No turning back now.

“Ha ha, we had more than enough laughs, ha ha, you hear
that Mickey?” Mick approved laughing like a maniac from
the back seat. His hand fell to Susan’s shoulder once
again. Susan jumped in her seat, trying to shake it
off. She didn’t.

“I am serious! I have no time for this any more!”
Susan’s voice was meant to be firm, mature,
authoritative but even to her it sounded decidedly
frightened. Don’t show them your fear, don’t.

“You have no time for this? You have no time for this
any more?” Shane sounded genuinely surprised. A whole
new concept was just demonstrated to him it seemed.

Susan tried putting all her age and dignity into her
voice. “Please. Start the car now and take me home. I
have to be with my family now.”

Shane started laughing. Then he started laughing even
louder. Then Mick started laughing in a high-pitched,
annoying voice. His hand wouldn’t let go of her
shoulder.

“Stupid bitch. You’re such a stupid bitch.”

The words cut through Susan like shards of glass.

“So you think this can just end whenever it’s
convenient for you, eh?” Suddenly, Shane’s voice
sounded a lot more mature. “You think you just play
with us and walk away when you’ve had enough?” Mick’s
hand started playing with Susan’s hair. Susan started
shivering.

“Shane, listen…” She couldn’t force herself to speak
any louder than just an elevated whisper.

“No, you listen, you bitch!” Shane snapped back at her.
“I don’t like bitches who think they are too good for
us, you know?” Suddenly, Mick’s hand was not playing
with her hair any more. Suddenly, his hand was holding
a handful of her hair in a firm grip.

“I… I…” the words were not there. Not at the
moment.

“No, really. You think you can just parade in front of
us like that, eh? You dress like a slut, you speak like
a slut, you act like a cock-hungry whore all evening
and when the time comes to land a punch, suddenly
Misses E. remembers she has a husband, whoa!!! That’s
some bad attitude, ma’am, I don’t fucking like it one
bit.”

Susan wanted to protest. She didn’t.

“What hurts my sensitive heart the most, though, is
that you don’t care about our feelings at all!” Shane
continued, unbuttoning his jacket.

“You think we are not hurt when you reject our polite
invitation and act like we’re trash? You think we don’t
have feelings?”

Susan felt something roll down her cheek. The she
realised it was a tear Then another one followed. Her
lower jaw was vibrating without control.

“Pl… please… please, just let me go… please.”

He’s just out to scare her. He’s just out to make her
feel frightened and he’ll tell her that any time now.
He’s just trying to scare her. For fun. For a laugh.

“Let you go? So you DO think our feelings towards you
are without merit?” Shane turned to Mick. “Dude, does
it strike you as unfair that this slut here basically
begged us to fuck her brains out all evening and now
she plays a faithful wife and a good mother?”

Mick nodded several times, trying to control a laugh
“Yeah, yeah, if there ever was a bad hard to get act,
this is it!! She deserves to have her shit sorted out.
Good thing she ran into us, eh?”

Shane nodded approvingly. He unbuttoned his jacket and
reached into the inner pocket. Then he made a quick
gesture and his hand produced a metallic sound.

Susan was sober. Susan got sober in a mere second.
Susan got sober instantly when the cold blade of
Shane’s butterfly knife touched her temple. Susan
closed her eyes, suddenly able to think straight and
quickly. She was able to think quickly enough to know
the list of her options just got very short.

“Oh God, no, please, please God no…” She repeated the
words in a whisper as a meaningless mantra. Her eyelids
wouldn’t keep the knife out of her eyes. They couldn’t
even keep the tears in. Mick’s hand was pulling her
hair backwards, making sure she is positioned nicely
for Shane’s blade.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Shane asked. “You think you
have a choice here? You think what, that we are going
to argue with you? Negotiate? Geee, you’re dumber than
I thought, lady.”

“And let me just add” Mick said enthusiastically, “that
you looked like one dumb slut from the word go. I’ve
never seen a bitch of your age act so shamelessly in
public. Luckily, my good friend here and me agreed to
teach you a lesson.”

“Please, please, please, no, please” Susan was shaking
her head by mere millimetres, trying to avoid the blade
entering her skin. Shane started unbuttoning his
trousers. “Please, God, please, I have kids slightly
younger than you, please, have heart, I can’t.”

“It’s funny that you remembered them now that you’re
about to actually eat a cock, and that they apparently
didn’t exist back in the café while you were doing your
whore act.” Shane took his penis out of his trousers.
“Now get down to business, slut, if you feel like
keeping both eyes in your head rather than in your
pockets.”

“God, no… please… have mercy, please, I can’t…”
Susan looked at his erect penis and for some reason
thought of her husband.

“Oh, you can’t?” Shane asked in mock surprise. “Let me
encourage you a bit, slut!!!”

He pressed the blade against her skin harder. Susan
felt the sharp pain. She let out a scared cry.

“No!!! Please! I’ll scream!!!”

Shane and Mick burst into spontaneous laughter.

“Aw, God, that was a good one”, Mick said, wiping
imaginary tears from his eyes. “She’ll scream! That’s a
great one!!!”

“Look, Susan”, Shane said in a reasonable voice. “I
believe you’ll find out that a woman screaming in the
middle of the night in this neighbourhood attracts less
attention than a fly on a horse’s ass. It’s not like
you’re the first bitch I had to teach how to give head
using my knife.”

He wasn’t lying. She knew he wasn’t. But… How did
they think they’d get away with this? She asked the
question between sobs. A pathetic little question of a
victim trying to turn the tables on her captors. Again,
she got roars of laughter as a response.

“No, I am telling you, dude, this one just has it all.
She keeps fit, she dresses for pleasure AND she is
fucking dumb to boot. A perfect woman!!!” Mick pulled
her head back suddenly, violently.

“Listen, dumb cunt, how many people do you think were
there in that café, eh? How many of them saw you act
like a total slut all evening? How many of them said to
their friends ‘Look at that whore, she is trying to
fuck both those good looking young man at once. She
should be ashamed of herself’? How many of them saw you
walk out with us, laughing like a skank, hanging on
Shane’s arm? Eh? What do you think, how will your story
sound to those, shall I say, unwilling witnesses of
your shameful behaviour?”

This was too much. Too much for Susan. She started
crying uncontrollably, tears gushing forth, her throat
hurting.

“OK, I just lost my patience, Susan” announced Shane.
“Either you start giving Mr. pecker down there some
well deserved lovin’, or I cut your eye out. Your
choice, ma’am.” He pressed the knife against her skin
once more. Susan felt the cut. She didn’t scream this
time though. She let out a deep, painful moan.

“It’s a no contest, really,” said Mick. “You suck my
friend’s cock and go back to your husband practically
undamaged, or Shane pokes that pretty eye out, you then
suck his cock and go home a cripple. I know what I’d
choose. And I am not even gay!!!”

Both laughed and hi-fived each other. Shane increased
the pressure. Roll the tape, defeat just entered the
building.

Shane did remove the knife when Susan accepted his
throbbing penis into her mouth. He didn’t do it as a
sign of good will, though. That was so he could put
both his hands at the back of her head and push her
down as far as she would go. Susan gagged when his
cock’s head brutally penetrated her throat. She never
did it like this. Never like this.

“Gee, you’d think the bitch this old would have
developed a more sophisticated fellatio technique. This
is a total fucking embarrassment, Susan, do you hear
me?” Shane stopped pushing her down for a second, and
pulled her head back so she could look into his eyes.
“Total embarrassment! Do you understand? Answer me!!”

The last sentence was yelled at her but Susan couldn’t
quite cope with this. The only thoughts coming into her
head were about how severely violated she was and how
terribly frightening it felt. So the word she uttered
was

“.no…”

Thukk!! Her cheek went red-hot. Shane slapped her
again, with the back of his hand, one of his fingers
hitting her eye, blinding her temporarily.

“That won’t do. I asked you a question bitch!! Do you
understand?” He pulled her head up.

Sometimes playing along IS the best option. Isn’t it?

“Yes… Yes, I do…”

Thukk!! Slap! Slap! Slap!

Shane obviously enjoyed slapping her.

“Yes what? Eh? Yes what, bitch!”

Yes what?? What was that about? It is hard to think
when you are being hit repeatedly.

“Yes… Yes… sir…”

“Awwww, Shane, she finally recognises you for a
gentleman you are!!!” Mick’s voice was full of
admiration. “You do have a way with ladies, that much I
have to give you!!!”

“OK, we’re getting there slowly it seems.” Shane
sounded pleased and stopped hitting her. “So let’s see,
you are a total fucking embarrassment. You can’t suck
cock to save your life. If you were sucking dick for
money, you would be starving!!! Copy that?”

Susan learned.

“Yes… yes, sir, I understand. I am a lousy blow.”

“Excellent. We’re making progress!!” Shane adjusted his
grip on her hair. “Now, see here, you’re in luck
because I am willing to teach you. Not many skanky
bitches your age get that chance, so you should be
grateful.” He stopped there, apparently waiting for her
reply.

“I… I am… grateful… sir…” Susan struggled.
“for… for helping me learn…” Just as long as she
doesn’t hit her again, she can keep herself under
control.

“You should be!! You should be. Now, let us hear you
ask me nicely to teach you how to suck cock properly.”

Both of them fell silent in expectation. Susan thought
the time stood still too.

This is not real.

This is not happening.

How could THIS be happening?

Not to me.

Not to me.

No.

How can he be serious?

He will hit me again. My God, he will hit me and hurt
me. Oh God, he will hurt me, he will hurt me.

“Please…”

Shane hit her.

More tears.

God, no…

“Please, sir…”

“Yes?” said Shane encouragingly.

“Please sir, please, teach me to suck cock. Please, I
need to learn to suck dick well, so I can give you the
pleasure you deserve.”

Shane turned to Mick triumphantly.

“See? See how it pays to be nice with women, my lad? We
could have raped this bitch the old fashioned way, but
isn’t it nicer now that we’ve all reached the same
conclusion and work towards the same goal?”

“You know it is, big man!!!” Another hi-five slapped
noisily.

“So now I am gonna turn this sorry excuse for a wife
and mother into a decent cocksucker because she knows
it will come in useful in her future career. Not to
mention that her husband will be grateful.”

“You know, old boy, I wouldn’t be surprised if you
start getting thank you notes from Mister E., perhaps
even a Christmas card once in a while.”

“Right, right, right.” Shane decided to get down to
business. “Let’s do it then. Since you asked so nicely,
I should grant you your wish and show you what a good
cocksucker you can be.”

It hurt.

Susan gagged as Shane kept ramming his swollen cock
down her throat. Tears made her half blind as she was
struggling for air. He would put it all in, pushing her
head savagely down, then take it out, to rub her saliva
and his precum all over her face. There was lots of it.
The mixture of mucus was hanging from her face,
staining his combat trousers and boxer shorts. Susan
moaned in pain as he brutally pushed his cock deeper
and deeper, but her moans were almost inaudible,
blocked by his flesh.

“She still has a lot to learn,” said Shane, breathing
heavily. “But we’re getting there, we’re definitely on
our way. Open up. Open up wide, BITCH!!”

He slammed it back in savagely. Susan gagged. But he
kept it in. Mick then leaned forwards from his seat,
deciding to join the fun and games. One Shane’s hand
was on her throat. Now Mick put his hand on the back of
her head and pushed down. Shane grabbed her nostrils
with his free hand and pressed them together. Suddenly,
the small quantity of air available to Susan turned
into none.

“This will increase everybody’s pleasure, I believe!”
explained Mick.

Susan thrashed in her seat, blind panic, mortal fear,
no sound save for terrified moaning, sound of an animal
struggling for her life.

“Awww, ahhh, agghhh, man, aww, you should try this
yourself!!!” Shane was ecstatic, “Oh, GOD, this is
incredible!!!” Susan’s struggle for air ironically made
her give him more pleasure than he was getting by
merely fucking her throat. Just when she thought she
will pass out, he pulled out and let go of her nose.

“Holy FUCK, man, I knew you’d be getting better, bitch,
Old Shane’s lessons are always a success.” (Susan
coughed uncontrollably) “Now let me see you do them
balls.”

Susan complied. She kissed and sucked his hairy,
swollen balls, listening to him moan from pleasure.
Without warning, he grabbed her hair again and
penetrated her throat. He used both hands to pull her
head up and down at first (‘Awww, throat-fucking slut,
you love this, don’t you?’) and then pressed her
nostrils together again. She knew roughly what to
expect this time around but that didn’t make it feel
any better. The panic was back, the fear was back too.
The humiliation never really left. The sounds of a man
getting enormous pleasure from violating and
humiliating her in front of his friend made her hate
herself.

“You fucking cunt!!! You fucking, dirty slut!!!
Awwwwww, man, she got me, she got me!!! I’m cumming!!!”
Shane shouted like they were all alone in the whole
world. “Aaargggh, take it, you whore, take it all you
fucking bitch!!!”

If he’d ejaculated into her throat, Susan would have
probably gagged worse than ever, perhaps even thrown
up. Luckily, Shane, possibly influenced by ages old
porno tradition, pulled out just in time and instead
started shooting his cum into her face. If there was
any pride left in Susan, and there wasn’t, she possibly
could have felt proud about making a man cum so hard.
Not that it was really her deed. He just used her mouth
as a fuckhole and now he sprayed her face and hair with
his semen, shouting all the time, getting cum into her
eyes, into her nostrils… Once he was done he again
brutally shoved his cock into her mouth.

“Clean it!!! Clean that fucking cock, you fucking no
good, cheap slut!!!”

She complied. There wasn’t much will left in her after
all. All she could think of was that he was finished.
His penis was going limp in her mouth. It will be over.
Soon, it’s all over.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, eh? Miss E.?”

Shane was sporting a wide grin on his face, the kind of
a dumb smile men sometimes have after they have
orgasmed.

“You will become a good cocksucker once, I can promise
you that.”

Whatever. It’s over now. Please. Let it be over.

“Of course, my friend here would like to teach you a
thing or two as well.”

God, oh God… She knew that was coming. She knew.

“But, Susan, I still think we should go with my
original suggestion – go to my apartment and have that
drink. How about it now?”

He emphasised the last sentence by raising the
butterfly knife once again.

An invitation you can’t say no to. Mick opened his
door.

“Awww, I’m gonna love this!!”

The building looked black and deserted. Mick opened
Susan’s door.