She closed her eyes, hoping that she would be able to blot out the obscene spectacle of her own debasement… the ultimate humiliation of having a strange man have his way with her helpless body in her own husband's bed…
Then, perhaps because of her very helplessness, she suddenly and unexplainably, began to feel a rearousal of her own sexual needs, the arcing sensations in the nerves of her loins signaling a coming rapturous ecstasy. She couldn't understand it. The brutal thrusts of his cock into her mouth was somehow erotic, perhaps a masochistic eroticism, an unconscious desire to be debased and punished for being the whore she was. She didn't know, of course, it was the sensations that were real in her; sensations that told her she was going to soar to a climax. How, she didn't know, but the pinnacle of her passion was there just ahead… and she would reach for it! The pleasure in her seething, voraciously, needful loins was building… building, and she flayed her legs ineffectually out to the sides of the bed, then brought them together again to rub her tingling thighs together.
She opened her eyes. The obscene spectacle was still there. The man's prick moved in and out of her mouth, disappearing past her tongue, into her throat, the hairiness of his loins tickling her nose as he plunged into her. She could see the slight paunch advancing and retreating in front of her, the muscles of his abdomen straining as his strokes became harder, deeper, spearing down into her gullet, until she was aware that she was taking all of his thick shaft inside the confines of her mouth. Now, her own arousal prompted her to move with him, countering his thrusts by bobbing her head up to meet him, and his cock went ever deeper into her mouth and throat. The sensation in her loins was driving her wild. She had to have a cock in her cunt! It was only a man's hard driving penis, she knew, now, that would make her cum!
Dottie gave in, completely, to her debasement. She sucked, hollowing her cheeks, increasing the pressure of her lips around his huge rod, and her tongue swished and swirled around him, as though she were a little girl, again, with an all-day sucker.
Above her, the salesman was lost in a wild ecstasy of his own. He was panting; now, driving for his orgasm, his ejaculate demanding release, and he increased his thrusting speed and depth. 'Oh, God!' he moaned. 'Just a little more… and I'll cum in that sweet little mouth of yours!'
Gagging, now, from the forceful pile-driving flesh into her throat, she fought for air, trying at the same time to move her head and suck for all she was worth. Continually, now, she mewled deep in her chest, the sounds muffled and eerie, and, uncontrollably, her thighs moved, scissoring back and forth to gain maximum stimulation of her genitals that felt neglected below. Her debasement was crowded out of her mind by the need to cum to orgasm. Oh, God! I'm so close… but I have to have a cock in my cunt! I have to have something… something!
The man, above her, slid his knees back until he was lying flat on her face. He began fucking, furiously, jerking in and out of her gaping mouth, using her desperately working lips exactly as a cunt. She gasped with the fury of his pounding prick, writhing beneath him, struggling for breath, but needing to cum herself; then, her hands moved down between her own widespread legs. Yes! Oh, God, yes! That's it! I'll cum, now!
Into the seething moistness of her voracious pussy, she thrust three fingers, jabbing them in, savagely, and finger-fucking them in and out to the established rhythm of her obscene sucking of the cock locked tightly in her mouth. God! It felt good!
Her other hand moved to her clitoris, and together, they worked there, substituting for the cock she had been denied by the perverse actions of the vile man who was fucking into her mouth so fast and furious.
His body stiffened, suddenly, and she felt his cock expand in her mouth as he shoved it in even further and stopped dead, his prick spewing his hot, white sperm into the depths of her throat. Desperately, to keep from choking she swallowed, the warm viscous liquid going down as quickly as he shot it into her.
… And, then, the climax was there for her, its magnificent convulsions overcoming her, taking her under into an undertow of terrific power, shooting her to the surface, finally, as she gasped for breath, afraid that she would drown, and she was aware that it was his cum in her mouth that had seemed to gag her, cut off her… make her feel that she was drowning.
Dottie lay under him, still swallowing desperately to keep from choking, feeling the deflation of his cock as it grew softer, more spongy in her mouth each moment, until, finally, it slipped wetly out of her lips and rested on her face. She used her hands to push him from off her, struggling to sit up, at the same time.
'Oh, baby… that was good…!' he groaned.
She made up her mind, this time, in a lightning second.
'All right… you got what you came for… you can clear out, now!' she said, firmly.
He laughed a short, hard laugh. 'That's what you think! I'm staying here all night!'
Calmly, she sat up on the edge of the bed and reached into the drawer of the bedside stand. Her hand came up holding her husband's P-38. She stood to her feet and said, 'Get dressed… and get the hell out of my house… or by all that's holy… I'll shoot!'
The salesman's eyes widened in sudden terror at her obviously serious threat. 'Christ! D-Don't point that thing… a-at m-me!'
'Move!' she ordered, her voice, steely.
She hadn't thought she could do it, but she surprised herself, her confidence supreme, as she watched the frightened man come off the bed and begin to get dressed, hastily.
When he had finished, she motioned him out of the room, keeping the deadly pistol aimed at him, constantly. He paused at the door, cleared his throat and began, 'Look… I–I…'
'Out!' she snapped.
He went out the front door, his face grim… frightened. He knew better than to argue. She held all the cards.
Locking the front door of her home, securely, she fled back to her bedroom and flung herself onto the bed, drained, completely, her emotional reaction, now, to her ordeal allowed full reign, as great sobs wracked her body and scalding tears washed over her face. She couldn't believe that it had happened. It was too bizarre… impossible.
A strange thought flitted through her mind: after all this… my first time with him in his motel… his fight with Gabe… and this… tonight… I don't even know that monster's name!
Perhaps it was just as well she didn't know his name. The name would haunt her. As it was… it would only be his face… and the memory of his lewd sex act with her that she would remember.
Oh, dear God! Charity!
She sat bolt upright, her eyes darting to the connecting bathroom door. A fleeting memory was there. The door had been closed, but when she came back into the bedroom after shooing the salesman out of her house… and out of her life, it had been ajar, slightly. God! Had Charity seen her? Had she watched through the crack in the bathroom door? Oh, God, please… don't let it be so!
… Of course, she would never know. She would never know, unless Charity indicated by word or action that she had been an observer of her unnatural actions with a strange man.
Dear God… What have I done…? What have I done?
CHAPTER FOUR
Some of the soreness was soaked away in the hot bath, and Donnie felt better, both physically and mentally. He relaxed in his room, getting dressed, finally, and going into the kitchen to forage for some food.
Charity heard him rummaging around and went in to help him. Together, they put some sandwiches on the table, along with a quart of milk and some cookies. Don wolfed down his food, talking now to his sister, as he chewed huge mouthfuls.
'That's out of sight… you getting the lead in the musical!' he told her. 'Sorry, I laid it on you… when you first told me about it…' She glowed, happy that her brother had complimented her.
'Thanks, Donnie… it's real groovy… and it's a good show they chose this year…'
They chatted on about groups, festivals and school happenings. It was nice, Charity reflected, to be able to talk to Donnie. He could be nice some of the time, and he seemed to be working at being extra polite to her.
Dad had not been home, all day, she remembered and asked her brother, 'Where's Dad…?'
'Who cares…!' he said, offhandedly; then, 'Probably stoned somewhere!'
