Jackson Robard - The cub-scout mother

"Your asshole, bitch!" he snarlingly repeated.

She acquiesced to the cold command, tremulously positioning the massive tip against her tight hairless opening. She could feel his thumbs pressing outward at the half-moons of her buttocks, pulling them wider and wider apart, until the head of his hungry cock pushed against the cringing mouth of her back passage. She knew it was hopeless to resist as the hardened head stabbed painfully against her anus, and she cringed in unbearable pain as the blood-engorged tip suddenly popped through her slightly-resisting sphincter muscle. Her face contorted in the agony of the ravishment, and she desperately tried to pull away.

"Shove back, damn you! Shove back!" he bellowed.

In automatic obedience to the loud command, she hunched back, feeling him push with all his strength to overcome again the natural resistance of her narrow opening. The weight of his powerful body pushed down on her with pulverizing strength, lambasting mercilessly at the rubbery flesh.

"Oh, God, you're killing me! It's too big!"

Lester grinned insanely as she uttered the hysterical plea, feasting his eyes on the sight of her white, full-rounded ass impaled on his huge cock. He heard her scream in torment as he forced yet another inch of his penis into the wide-stretched oval opening between the quivering mounds; the white throbbing shaft disappearing into that gyrating ass. Her beautiful face was flushed – the color of strawberries – and her eyes rolled around in her head. She began mewling little inarticulate sounds of lust.

He drew his cock out to the point where only the head was lodged inside, then pushed gently but firmly in all the way. The long, long stroke drove her insane. She whined and jiggled as though she were a friendly puppy wagging its tail. He did it again, and again, and again, speeding up his tempo now.

She was panting so loudly that it was almost impossible to make sense of her words, but the meaning did reach him, "Harder, faster. Fuck harder. Fuck faster," she groaned with mouth open – making silent screams.

Bette Jean no longer felt human as the mercilessly driving cock tore into her rectum, pushing against the bottom of her belly inside like a monstrous pestle jammed into a tiny mortar. Turning her head back again, she saw Lester grinning victoriously just as he thrust his penis heavily downward. With a loud smacking noise, his hips banged against the softness of her twin buttocks and the torturing instrument was buried to the hilt again in her ravaged anus. She was hopelessly impaled, like a pig on a spit. Tears of pain and humiliation ran down her cheeks in tiny glistening rivulets as he gasped in diabolical delight, and began to piston in and out of her tight-stretched passage with the power of his sadistic impulses spurring him on. He rammed into her with cruelly hard thrusts, his great swinging balls buffeting against her tightly straining cunt, and unexpectedly, she found herself becoming accustomed to the presence of the tremendously huge cock boring into her.

As the pain suddenly seemed strangely pleasant to her, she ground back to meet the forward thrust of his cock, undulating her body and swinging her hips in tiny rotating circles. She gyrated, lowering her hips to pull the lust-hardened prick out of her quivering rectum, then driving back to bury it deeply within her burning channel, the blunt intrusion firing every fiber of her being. Her head thrashed from side to side in unfeigned passion on the pillow and her lips were bared back from her teeth in masochistic joy. She was loving it and she bucked back against him like a mare against a stud horse, her chestnut hair flying around her face and neck as she squirmed lewdly on the pumping instrument.

The boiler maker could see his wife's face flushing red from the intensity of her effort, her eyes wide in unseeing entrapment in the final quest for fulfillment. He watched in heated passion as his pillaging cock pulled tiny ridges of her light brown clasping flesh out with the base of his prick as it withdrew for another powerful lunge inside her, then pushed the tight elastic ring back inwards like a tiny bellows on the instroke.

Sweat rolled off his face and flowed in tiny glistening streams from her back onto the bed. His eyes bulged wide at the spectacle of her body bucking before him as he felt the rubbery passage slipping over his cock like a tight-fitting glove. He had lost control of himself and his heavy member swelled in her rectum like an inflating balloon.

Bette Jean waved her ass back against his bludgeoning thrusts. She wanted him to cum, to shoot his great boiling stream of sperm deep into her bowels. There was no longer any pain or doubt, only a feeling of being filled as she had never been before. Her ass swayed high in the air and she ground back as she felt the enormous penis throbbing in torturous hardness.

There was a low strangled gasp behind her and she felt his great, pulsating cock burst like a dam as he gave one last shove that sent wave after wave of his hot sperm flooding into the depths of her belly. Then, she felt the tremor of her climax sweep through her and she and she screamed out her release as it gushed from her open cunt, drenching his hairy balls pressed tightly against the spewing opening. The orgiastic fluids were trickling down her thighs in mingled streams when Lester groaned in exhaustion and collapsed, flattening her to the bed.

If only she could die now… fall straight through the bed to whatever place the tortured dead go and be at peace.

Wanda slammed the dishes into the dishwasher angrily. That Lester telling her to get breakfast, do the dishes, clean the house, wash the clothes. Big sister must have really put out for the first time last night. "Wasn't feeling well," he'd said. "You'll have to look after things today… she's just not up to it." He'd smiled then, like a cat swallowing a canary. She could almost see him remembering last night. Back in the sack with big sister… being the model husband… back in her bedroom and back in her frigid cunt!

What had actually gone on last night was still a mystery… and the night before even more so… but something funny was going on in this house. Something damn funny. Gary looking sick as a dog and Bette Jean with big circles under her eyes and not looking anybody in the eye, then Lester moving back into the bedroom. The funniest thing of all was after Lester and Bette Jean went to bed and Gary coming into her own bed, bawling his head off and not making any sense at all. Bawled the whole time she sucked him and fucked him. Damned kid had to be crazy… crazy as her "dear sister".

"Damn," she muttered, sucking her little finger that bled from a tiny cut when she'd dropped a glass. She glared petulantly out the kitchen window. One thing she had to do, find out what the hell was going on and secure Lester. If she didn't, she'd find herself out in the street in short order.

Wanda worked frantically all day, washing, scrubbing, polishing… even took Bette Jean some soup and milk on a tray at lunch time. She'd looked sick all right, deep circles under her eyes and wouldn't even pass the time of day. Wanda probed a little but with no results at all. Not a word about anything. Nothing useful that she could use… but if she listened long enough and snooped, she'd find out just what the hell was going on. She had to! Couldn't go back home if she wanted to and she sure as hell didn't.

Gary went into his mother's bedroom the minute he got home that afternoon. Christ he was tired. He'd walked for hours all over hell's half acre. School had been unthinkable though his father had given him a ride there this morning. He'd cut out the minute his father's truck turned the corner.

He tiptoed in quietly and stood looking down at his mother. She looked so small and vulnerable, her beautiful face pale against the pink sheet. Oh God! What had he done to her? What had he done to himself? The guilt was gnawing at his guts like a viper and his head felt like shattered crystal that could never be mended. Her eyelids quivered and she moved slightly in her sleep, the bed jacket falling away to expose one white softly pink-nippled breast. Gary felt his cock stir to life and a deep moan tore out of his chest even as he bit his lips to stifle it.