once she had gotten used to the idea, there was nothing inherently unpleasant in lying here flat on her back in classic missionary position and submitting to a slow-motion fuck.
If only her body wouldn't react so enthusiastically… She wondered if whatever he was on had left him enough sensation, enough awareness to sense that, though she might still be tense and unwilling, J her cunt was streaming with love's elixir, wet as if he had spent hours in long slow foreplay to raise her to this blissful state of erotic readiness.
Was it possible to con him into believing she was a willing participant in this fuckfest? Abruptly, Paula knew it was her only hope. If he was thinking Straight he must realize that a parole officer who had just been raped, that officer was in a unique position, able to make dead certain her assailant was locked up in the deepest of dungeons and the key thrown so far no bleeding-heart social worker would ever even be aware of his solitary existence in a sweat box. Dead certain.
If she did not end up dead first…
But who could say what went through a man's mind when he was on whatever he had taken? She reminded herself that if his thought processes had been capable of reasoning out simple cause and effect he would have chosen some career with a less-hazardous failure rate than breaking and entering.
But even if he was missing a chromosome, he was capable of killing her. She tried to relax and at least enjoy what promised to be her last fuck, if she could just convince him she didn't want it to be her last, didn't want it to be his last penetration of her thrumming pussy…
She took a deep breath and struggled to relax, to enjoy the steady coursing of that thumping chauvinistic invader that marched and countermarched in and out of her cunt. Then she noted that his slow, steady stroking was gradually picking up in tempo. Against her will, she realized too that she no longer had to pretend. Rape or not, it was starting to feel pretty goooooooood!
CHAPTER 6
Of all the goddam predicaments! This wet-headed, rodent of a man was fucking her-raping her. She was enjoying it. Against her will but every time that great thumping thrill-drill coursed in and out of her she felt a fresh charge of emotion. If it had been a real rape she would have been dry and it would have hurt but, woman's libber or not, male chauvinist pig or not, the sight of his naked figure with that great thumping cock sticking out like a bowsprit had been enough to send a thrill through her long-deprived belly, to start love's lubrication flowing in her needful pussy.
By the time he'd finished stripping her robe off, forced her down onto the rug, she had been ready, so ready his dry-shanked cock had slid smoothly into her without the slightest shudder of rebelling flesh. Smoothly, he had parted her passion-swollen vulva and put his prod between her love-dewed labia. With a slow, smooth, steady push he had driven his dong deep past her labia, deep into her.vagina, sliding smoothly and sliding deep, deep until his hard-boned pelvis was grinding against the blond ringlets of her long-unused pubic patch.
Somewhere the phone was ringing and she realized she must have left one of them on the hook. A lot of good it would do her now that she was nailed to the rug by his fleshy spike.
That spike had seemed oversized when she had seen it jutting out from his lithe body. Now that it was inside her it seemed to have grown at least twice as big or else she was shrinking. The knob on the end of his lance was still coursing carefully in and out of her but it seemed to have grown to the size of a golf ball, a tennis ball, and now, even though she was streaming with love's lubrication, she could feel a passage that was no longer smooth.
My god, Paula thought, some of those yearning, woman-hungry men had called her a bitch but she had never believed she could approach one that physically. Her cunt seemed to have gone into some spastic, shrinking, clutching convulsion that struggled to lock around the head of that sliding knob that still stirred her insides. She could feel the multiplex folds of her vagina locking, pulling at his cockhead, puckering her vulva in as he pushed, pushing it in so far that even the outer hairy parts of her labia were now slicked with the chrisms of love. Each time he pulled his lumbering bargepole back out the lining of her cunt bunched around it, moving ahead of the knob on his cock until her labia everted and half her cunt turned inside out in pink accordion folds of fluttering ecstasy.
And no matter what her rapist had taken, he was feeling her tight clasping cunt gripping and pulling at his cockhead. 'Aaaaaahhhhh!' he snarled, still nibbling on her tits. He began pouring it to her harder, hotter, hurrying his beat until his wham-bam rhythm approached the joyous irresponsibility of a totally conscienceless stiff prick.
Paula felt her body responding to love's old sweet song. No longer knowing or caring who it belonged to, she was in total communion with a cock-with the biggest cock she could ever remember having felt inside her lovely quiff. Chauvinist pig or not, it felt gooood!
She felt her ass rising enthusiastically to meet his thrust and suddenly they were galloping, wham-bamming to a joyous photo finish, still linked together in classic missionary position and doing what came naturally. Her belly was twisting and writhing inside, every organ stretching, tensing in preparation for the lovely melting cataclysm to come. She could feel him building for a climax too, feel his cock suddenly grow even harder, bigger, hotter as he rammed deep, grunting with the effort to give her the final full measure of his devotion.
Suddenly her long straight legs were flying as she struggled to go to heaven feet first but he was on top and holding her firmly down to the rug as he poured his prodigious prod to her seething pussy.
'Oooooohhh!' she wailed as all those little rubber bands inside her belly started unwinding with a soul-stirring whirrrr. She was melting, moaning, twisting wildly in the throes of love, her legs clasping in joyous erotic scissor grips around his lean, hard ass.
'Oooooooohhhhhh, aaaaaaahhhhhh, woowwww-ww!' he howled and then he was spurting, shooting great gobs of goo into her as he fired his load, emptying his passion into her waiting cunt.
Paula was coming. This was no dream. This time she was coming with all her heart, with all her soul, with all eight inches of cock in her seething, love hungry cunt. She was dying but it felt so good she wouldn't mind dying again and again only it was feeling so good she couldn't focus her eyes and suddenly she was falling backward, spinning down and down around a funnel as she spun and dipped and slipped and skidded into ever-deeper blackness and then there was no light, no sensation at all.
When she woke the little breaker and enterer had dressed already. She opened her eyes cautiously and tried to remember to smile. It was important that she smile. If she didn't…
She managed and to her amazement he smiled back. 'See!' he crowed, 'I knew you wanted it. No hard feelings?' he grinned. 'Until next time anyhow.' With a leer and a wink, he stepped out of her front door, leaving Paula raped, shattered, naked on the rug of her own living room floor.
She lay numb. How had it happened? One minute her life had been orderly, everything in its place. And then disaster piled on top of disaster. Raped by a paroled breaker and enterer! And she had let him in herself. It would look extremely funny when she told the police about it. She could just see their knowing smiles. Then, remembering what had happened this morning with the TV cameras, in front of everybody down at City Hall, Paula knew there was only one way she could handle this situation.
She could grin and bear it. If ever she were to complain, this outrage on top of her free show this morning would be enough to finish her forever. She had already embarrassed the mayor, had turned his presentation ceremony into a joke. He wouldn't have a minute for her, for Paula's outrage and mortification. Hizzonner would only remember how she had screwed up his show. And if she were to call the police now and report what happened, wouldn't Hizzonner ever egg the reporters on to have a real field day at Paula's expense!
But that wasn't yet the worst of it, she knew. There was something for a woman's libber that was even worse. While that male chauvinist pig of a cocksman had been fucking her, violating her privacy, using her as a sex object, despising her mind, ignoring her erudition-what had she been doing? Had she fought? Had she kicked and screamed and scratched and gotten a couple of black eyes defending her chastity?
Bullshit! Instead, she had Iain on her back and kicked her heels in the air and wrapped her thighs around his sinewy back and she had moaned and shrieked and yodeled her delight as he violated her. Still flat on her back, with her cunt still brimming with joy juice, with the mixed essences of male and female running thickly out of her pussy and down between the cheeks of her firm ass, Paula drew a deep, ragged breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and shuddered. It was no good. Soon she was sobbing.
