beneath him.
'Oh… oh, my God…' she'd moaned beneath his depraved attack. He'd held her imprisoned to the bed with the weight of his strong sinuous body, her head rolling back and forth wildly while his hand sought his prick and jammed the blood-filled head between the moist, tender lips of her vagina, working it up and down briefly to part the soft, sparse pubic hair, and thrusting it forward against the tight, cringing mouth of her reluctant cunt.
Abruptly, her terror had gotten the better of her; she'd tried to scream… couldn't! Then, she'd felt the agonizing pressure beginning. For one brief moment, she'd thought she could endure it, but it quickly became obvious to her that it would never fit. Again, she tried to scream.
He flicked his hips forward.
'OOOOooooohhhhh Godddd, noooo, nooo!'
Her brain reeled, but more from fear than the pain. She'd heard him curse vilely, then he'd pressed into her again, flexing his buttocks with brutal strength, until suddenly it gave. The tight elastic ring of her vaginal entrance had popped open with a snapping, unexpected sound and the huge spongy head slipped wetly inside her with a rush that left her gasping for breath.
'Aaaaaaaaaaagggggggggghhhhhhhh!'
She flailed her head insanely and tried to get her talon-crooked fingers up to claw at his face with her nails as she'd squirmed and twisted like a madwoman, endeavoring to escape the cruel and agonizing impalement of her helpless cunt.
She'd squealed as might a speared animal thrashing in its final death-throes while he caught her wrists and pinned them back to the bed; she kicked her legs out frantically in a futile attempt for relief, but the move only worsened her position, and he'd sunk his massive prick deeper into her yielding flesh without benefit of mercy while she'd begun to half-screech incoherently from the unbelievable pain. Brutally, his stone-hard cock had bored further and further into her unprepared, virginal passage, expanding the sensitive moist walls until she'd been certain her thighs would split asunder from the outward, relentless pressure… then, his pelvis had smacked resoundingly against her own and she'd felt his balls dangling heavy between the upturned cheeks of her tightly clenched ass.
She had tried to speak, beg, anything… but couldn't raise the words from her throat. He had whipped her breath away with his cruel penetration of her unreceptive and unwanting vagina, the scalding pain emitting from it and her whole crotch area assuring her that he had torn her badly, and as the vile, massive thing lay entombed beyond reason deep in her quivering belly, the warm and wet stretched walls of her cunt wrapped like a salved bandage around it, she'd been certain she could feel the blood trickling down the cleft between her buttocks to form a warm, wet pool beneath her on the bed.
But he'd never stopped. Like some mad rapist, he'd never even given her an acclimating moment of adjustment to his sudden invasion deep inside her womb. He'd simply commenced to fuck, plunging in and out of her in the manner of a feral, rutting animal. Half in shock from the pain, as well as the heartbreak, shame and humiliation, she'd gaped up helplessly at his drunken lust-contorted face, trying with all of her heart to fathom what lay beyond that mask as he hammered inhumanly in and out of her. Her eyes had blurred with her tears, but more from the mental anguish as the pain slowly began to subside and she determined that his only thought was to spew his waiting load of white, hot semen deep inside her in the age old heritage of the dominating male animal.
And he had! Again and again that night, he'd emptied his lust-filled loins into her, flooding her belly with the hot white liquid of his passion… but never once waiting for her own need to be fulfilled.
In time, when the pain had passed completely, and her moist tingling passage had flowered open to him, fiery tongues of ecstatic pleasure had begun to lick hungrily at her soft sensitive flesh. Uncontrollably, her whole body had begun an uncontrollable twitching and writhing beneath him and she'd found herself groaning incessantly up into the wetness of his mouth, shoving her tongue with wild and complete abandon deep into his throat. Her legs on either side of his impaling cock had jerked and quivered of their own volition, and she'd drawn back her knees tight against her throbbing breasts, presenting the naked plane of her loins wide-open to his pile-driving thrusts, and he'd ground hard and deep, his cock boring far up into the hidden, never before touched, sanctuary of her womb.
Oh God, yes! She loved him! Would always love him… no matter what he was or what he did to her… She loved him!
At that moment, she had nearly begged him! Her body had screamed for release; he had driven her desire to that point with his liquor-sodden lust; but seconds before she had reached the hair-away pinnacle he had again shot the warm white dregs of his loins into her… then, with a long groan, passed out cold on top of her…
Such had been her wedding night… and all nights she'd ever spent with him since. Now, as she came from the bath to her vanity, once more attired in the provocative sheer negligee, Dianne realized that she loved him no less than she had in the very beginning. Good God, she didn't know why she should… but she did. Perhaps it had become a masochistic thing with her, she thought, picking up the brush and beginning to stroke the heavy cascade of silken blonde-hair.
He didn't love her, nor had he ever. That much she knew. She supposed she should be thankful that he'd been honest enough to tell her that at the start. At least, there was no deception on the score; he'd married her to enhance his vote-getting image. In exchange, he had lavished her with every luxury wealth could buy. She wanted for nothing material… only his love… but he couldn't give what he didn't possess.
Over brandies at dinner last evening, he had remarked what a lovely first-lady of the state she would one day make… and momentarily she had thought she detected a softening to his usual ruthless eyes, a gentling to his cold hard smile… and then, he had left. Of course, she had no idea where he went or when he would be back. He never told her that.
It was almost impossible for her to believe that the man she had dined with and the man whose bed she shared on those rare occasions were one and the same. Dear God, what happened to him in the interim? Liquor? Perhaps. Anyway, she loved him; he was her husband. Forgetting all else, he was her husband, an he was taxing himself beyond reason, either for a personal or inherent family goal… she didn't know which. But whichever, she would stand beside him, through campaigns and country club dances, until all was right between them, even their lovemaking; then, perhaps, she would be his first lady.
Really, that was all she wanted… wasn't it…?
CHAPTER THREE
Mark Coleman maneuvered the T-Bird with remarkable skill considering the fact that he'd been guzzling scotch and sodas rampantly throughout the eight-hour round of golf. One nice thing about the Rio Lado Country Club, he grinned to himself, were the phones to the bar installed on every tee. They'd served their purpose well this day. Good Commissioner Faro had been stoned when he left him in the locker-room, but his mission had been accomplished. At least, he felt pretty damned certain it was. Anyway, he'd know in a few hours… if the Commissioner called him and invited them to dine at their table this evening… the old double entendre.
He continued to grin as he thought about that. Cripes, Dianne would flip if she even dreamed what might possibly be in store for her. Well, he'd leave that end of it to A.C. Faro; the lecherous bastard had certainly had enough experience at seduction in his time. The main issue was his securing Judge Reed and his powerful machine's backing, and no one ever got to first-base with old Julian without going through his top lieutenant, the Police and Fire Commissioner.
Yes, sir, he'd handled it all according to the prescribed channels of power. They were old passageways in Rio Lado County, but still vigorously in use, and not to be idly short-cut by any ambitious politician. He'd seen too many die along the way to become a rebel. Even his own father might have been governor had he not bucked the Judge and followed along the narrow, but ordained paths. He doubted that he'd ever believe that the old-man's brakes had just suddenly given away. Perhaps he might have bought it had it not been right in the midst of the state highway expose… but to hell with that. It was another era… past and dead. His father had been a fool… he only wished his mother hadn't been in the car with the senator…
This was another time, another age, another generation of Colemans. A shrewder breed, he thought to
