John Friday - Raped wild wife

"I recommend the fillet and lobster tail. That's what I'm going to have." Hanson put aside his menu and picked up the wine list.

Tanya scanned down the menu until she found the steak and lobster. "My God, that costs…"

"Never mind what it costs. You're with me."

"But there's gotta be a catch," she said. She wasn't exactly street-wise yet, but she wasn't a complete fool either.

"NO catch," Jeff assured her. "When you finish dinner, you can walk right out the door if you like."

He intended to fill her with so much vintage champagne that she wouldn't be able to walk without clinging to his arm. And if that didn't work, he had a little vial of amber fluid in his pocket that would. By midnight, he expected to be fucking her tawny little cunt for the first time. The first of many!

The Headwaiter eyed Grant Dunlap's off-the-rack suit coldly and rumpled his lip. The little silver-haired blonde with him was stunning, but not shown to best advantage in what he took to be bargain basement clothes.

"Do you have a reservation?" he almost sneered.

"Not yet," Grant said.

"Well, sir… then I'm afraid you might have to wait several hours."

"Call your boss. Tell him Dunlap and Ballard from the Vice Squad are here for dinner. If we have to hang around waiting, there's no telling what we might turn up."

"Er, yes… yes, sir right away." He bristled, but picked up a white in-house phone, dialed a single digit and then spoke in a muffled tone. He smiled grudgingly as he lowered the receiver back into the cradle. "Right this way. Your table is waiting."

"What gives you clout in a place like this?" Sam whispered.

"They've got a little Las Vegas in a back room," he replied.

"In Nevada that's legal. Here it's not. How come they haven't been shut down?"

"Because the Police Commissioner likes playing roulette. They have a tricky wheel and they let him win."

"I see." Sam's illusions were already wearing thin.

When they were seated at a cozy table for two, Grant leaned close and whispered: "See the guy with the luscious young redhead?"

"Hhhhmmmm?" she replied after a subtle, side long glance. "He looks like a pimp."

"He is a pimp. Hanson, Jefferson B. Fourteen arrests, two convictions, sentence suspended both times. Right now, he's breaking in a new girl, giving her the old razzle-dazzle. He'll fuck her for a week, then pass her around among a few friends. By then she'll be ready for the street."

"Are you going to bust him?"

"For what? Taking a girl to dinner isn't against the law."

"We've got to do something! We can't let her get hooked into a set-up like that. She looks so sweet."

"Give her a month, and she'll be tough enough to spit nails."

"I won't let that happen!" Samantha said loudly.

"Sssshhhhh! Let the girl enjoy her dinner. The way she's ripping into that steak, I'd say she hasn't eaten in a week."

"Then what?"

"I don't know… but we'll think of something."

Samantha smiled and stole another glance at the beautiful young girl with the long waves of fiery red hair. The sight of her sparked a twinge of desire, one part of her sexual nature that Grant didn't know about yet.

The lewd trio of teens led by Billy Chapman exhausted their interest in Veronica sooner than she'd dared hope. They left talking about some girl named Tanya, thinking they might be able to find her and continue their lusty rampage on through the night.

It took several minutes for Veronica to catch her breath. Then she staggered into the shower and washed herself clean, careful not to wet her long, luxurious fall of silky brown hair.

She dressed in fresh clothes, fit the velvet banded diamond neckpiece back around her throat and left the house with a feeling of increased excitement. The mixed pleasure and pain of what she'd been through had forced her to face one important fact that she'd been crowding to the back of her mind for too long.

Her life with Grant was finished. She could no longer be content being a cop's wife. She had to find something better for herself, and she knew just where to look. But first, she had to stop by her parents' hilltop home and borrow one of her mother's beautiful minks.

Grant Dunlap had eaten his way half through a thick, rare steak when he looked up, gulped like he was choking and did a classic double-take.

"Oooooh, shit!" he said, quickly lowering his head. "Ah, don't look around right now, but when you get a chance, check out the brunette in the mink coat that just walked up to the bar."

A moment later Sam looked quickly, as casually as she could. "She's a real stunner!"

"She's my wife."

"Your wife?" Sam looked again, not so casually this time. She felt a sinking pang of jealousy. Grant's wife was radiant, and the dark, lustrous mink that so perfectly matched her long hair must have cost half a year of the cop's pay.

She looked curiously at him and said: "I thought you couldn't afford shit like that!" Sam thought Grant might be taking favors far more valuable than dinner out and free use of a motel room.

"I can't. She must have borrowed it from her mother. Veronica's off on her elegant lady trip again."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "Who's the guy with her?"

Grant looked up quickly and choked back a laugh.

"What's so damn funny? He's tall, dark and very handsome. And very interested in your wife."

"Name's Brett Allison. He's a gigolo – a fucking cock for hire. He's in here a lot, always trying to score with some rich old cunt. It's going to be a big shock when he gets her out of that mink and finds nothing but a cop's wife underneath."

Samantha gulped. "Oh, shit – we've been so busy watching them, I didn't notice. That pimp Hanson and the sexy little redhead they've left!"

"Let's go. It looks like Veronica is too busy trying to get herself fucked to even notice that I'm here." Grant pushed back his chair and only felt sorry about one thing… that he didn't have time to finish that delicious steak.

When Billy Chapman and his two friends couldn't find Tanya anywhere on the street, Billy had a good idea what had happened. And he had a good idea where to look for her. He checked the restaurant out by peering through a small side window where the heavy drapes did not quite meet. And now, he, Hunk and Jason were all crouched in the shadows behind the car parked next to Jeff Hanson's long black convertible.

Normally, Billy would never mess with Hanson. But now he felt a swelling sense of power. Not only had he fucked the brains out of that cop's wife, but he'd grabbed another piece on the way out. That deadly little snub-nose hanging in the closet. His sweaty hand curled tightly around the checkered walnut grip.

Jeff Hanson didn't see them. His gaze was locked on sexy little Tanya. She clutched his left arm for support and giggled when he reached out with his right hand to feel one of her jutting tits.

Chapman stood up when they passed. "That's my girl you're fucking with, pimp!"

Hanson whirled, shaking free of Tanya's grasp. He almost laughed when he saw who it was. "Billy Chapman," he sneered. "What are you doing, stealing hubcaps?"

"You fucker! Nobody calls me Billy any more!" His hand stirred restlessly in his jacket pocket.

Jeff Hanson's hand blurred beneath his coat and snapped back with a vicious-looking switchblade. He touched a button and nine inches of gleaming cold steel flashed in the faintly lit parking lot behind the restaurant.

"I'll call you Billy, or prick head, asshole, or anything I want, little boy!" His cold voice rang with scorn.

"You can call me Mr. Chapman, and you can kiss my ass!" He pulled the gun and thumbed the hammer back.

Hanson swallowed a lump of fear. Hunk uncoiled from behind the car then and grinned viciously. "You want I should bust his head?"