Theodore Stickles - Prisoner Of Lust

"Ow!" It hurt with a pain so sharp she could only shriek. But as swiftly as it had come, the sharp pain was gone and she had an odd distended feeling as if she were constipated and was straining to squeeze out a big one that had managed to get stuck halfway.

But she knew that was not what was stretching her ass. Instead, it was the golfball-sized knob on the end of Harry's gear shift. With one magnificent raping thrust he had forced it past her straining anal sphincter and now the damage was done. It was in her. He left it there for a moment, riding easily back and forth with her, moving his ass in time to hers, which still met Redhead's steady thrusting up her cunt with his bald-headed bargepole.

The effect was devastating no matter how carefully he matched his movements with hers and Redhead's trying to pretend it wasn't there. The red-haired man's cock, though it had appeared smaller, had filled her gently rounded belly just as full as Harry's eight inches. She could not remember ever having felt so-stuffed-before.

With each stroke the bald-headed bargepole inside her cunt had stretched her anew, filling her to the erotic edge of pain, emptying her until she felt like a collapsing tent each time her insides settled back in place around the vacuum left as that great gouge departed.

And now with the golfball-sized tip of Harry's eight-inch erection stuffed up her ass, his glans penis hooked like a fleshy barb just inside the squeezing musculature of her anal sphincter everything was twice as bad. She felt-pregnant. She felt as if she had held it too long and was going to have to make it to the crapper on a dead run. She could feel her insides, already outraged by the way Redhead's bald-headed cock buffeted them with each stroke, now being crushed with the pressure of two knobs of rampant rigidity competing for space inside her belly.

With Redhead's come-slicked bald-headed cock on the outstroke, barely parting her blond-furred vulva, she felt uncomfortably full of cock, thanks to Harry's unmoving bludgeon up her ass. When the red-haired man drove his dong deep into her, bottoming out with each stroke long enough to grind his pelvis against her mons veneris and stir his cock inside her in a lascivious circle, she felt so full she wanted to scream. The only problem was, she couldn't make up her mind whether she would be screaming with pain or with sheer uncontrollable joy.

If only it didn't feel so goooood! She struggled to remind herself that this was rape-worse than rape, that she was being raped in duplicate as if she were a carbon copy of some kind of a sex object. For this she had struggled and fought her way through law school, through the bar exams?

But reflection did nothing to cancel out the carnal knowledge she was gaining. If rape was defined as carnal knowledge of a woman against her will, what was the carnal knowledge she had gained of her own body? She had always known she had a body, that her body had needs and desires over which she had little control-desires that extracted their vengeance from her woman's libber mind every time she went to sleep and dreamed of stiff pricks perforating her diploma. But until now she had never known the depth of her desires. Nor, she reflected ruefully, had she ever known the true depth of her cunt. Eight inches for Christ's sake!

How much more could she take? She discovered that no matter how uncomfortable, no matter how unbearably delightful, she could take another inch at least, for Harry's rod had been soaking a while and his Cowper's gland had been busily secreting the lubrication of love. He gripped her ass firmly from behind and stopped trying to match his movement to hers. The result was disconcerting.

For the first time Paula discovered what it is like to be the filling in a sandwich. She was being filled from in front by the redhead's bald-headed cock. Each time he thrust she was stuffed like a Christmas goose, stuffed so full of love there was no room left for common sense or even for self-preservation, so delightful was the sensation of maleness pervading her. And each time she felt that great bald-headed banger slide smoothly out of her the movement away from Redhair's cock pushed her thrumming ass back onto Harry's busy hammer.

Harry's eight-inch erection was sliding in and out of her asshole now, filling the gap each time his redheaded accomplice vacated the burning, tingling interior of her other hole. If felt so good she wanted to wail, yodel, and shriek her delight. If this was rape she could take it a dozen times a day until it killed her. Which wouldn't be very long, she guessed. She was coming again, coming in a steady stream of flowing love juice that issued from her quivering pussy, her belly wracked by wave upon wave of contractile ecstasy that swept restraint and common sense before it like diplomas before a tidal wave of lust.

She could feel her whole body pulsating in constant, uninterrupted orgasm until it felt as if she were puffing and shrinking with each heartbeat, every inch of tactile surface inside and out reacting to the stimulus of two males rubbing against her front and rear, two cocks penetrating her quivering flesh, two pairs of hands fondling her, searching out every secret trigger, making her quiver with lust in erogenous zones she had never even dreamed she possessed. Two mouths were kissing her, rooting in her tits, licking aureoles and nipples, nibbling on the nape of her neck, sticking questing tongues in her ears, blowing, licking, driving her into a relentless frenzy of erotic demand where she abruptly discovered that her ass was no longer a passive bobbin shuttling between twin needles.

Now her ass was contributing its own kinesis to this threeway ballet of lascivious bottom banging. She felt her ass buck forward, rocking to meet Red-hair's bald-headed cock as it ram-slammed deep into her to hold a minute, grinding and stirring before he withdrew for yet another thrust. She felt her ass rock backward with equal enthusiasm to greet Harry's eight inches plowing their erotic way up the old dirt road, his lean sinewy body coming up hard against her ass with a slap as if he were a jockey posting, pounding her lusting buttocks against the hard leathery saddle of his lap, her bottom spiked firmly by his prick lest she be thrown on one of the turns.

Four hands held her by every conceivable handle, grabbing her tits, her waist, her ass in a frantic effort to hang on for the duration of this ride. She was being caressed, kneaded, handled, and fingered in so many ways that Paula suspected she would be fibrillating with an uncontrollable eroticism even if she were not being stuffed alternately with two hot hammering cocks each striving to make her come, each striving to preserve his pristine hard-on for one, two, a hundred more strokes up her thrumming cunt and anus. She wanted to wail, to shriek, but she needed all her breath just to keep up this wonderful shuttle diplomacy between two evenly matched powers that were splitting her right in two and oh Jesus, did it ever feel good to be in the middle of a power struggle!

But even as she was discovering how delightful it can be to be caught in the middle of an erotic sandwich Paula was discovering something else. Vaguely, she recalled a pilot friend once telling her how necessary it was to synchronize both engines on an airplane if one were to have a smooth ride.

She was riding between twin engines, each pumping her full of the elixir of love, each massaging her quivering belly inside and out in ways she had never dreamed possible. But something was going wrong with the synchronization. Redhair and Harry had been in perfect time, one cock going into her as the other came out, pushing her insides back and forth with a rhythm as irresistible as the tide, churning her whole being with great surging waves of pink-frothed lust that had long ago drowned any thought for her future or even for her present.