Henry Morgan - The drivers

The black man shuffled closer until his cock was directly above the girl's mouth, then he crouched down to lower the still limp member between her bright painted lips. Even when soft the cock was a problem to accommodate but she tried her best, sucking him into her mouth, pleasing him enough so that he fell forward to lick at her slick smooth cunt that dribbled for his cock.

The powerful thighs tensed with pleasure, lifting and falling, gently fucking the white girl's mouth. She seemed to be enjoying it, seeking to make the man happy. Only when she opened her eyes to delight in the sight of his black skin did Peter realise the girl was…

Susan!

His Susan!

There was nothing he could do. The initial adrenaline rush had told him to dash up to the stage and drag Hell Raiser away, but he managed to control himself in time. Against such a powerful man he was useless, age and size were his enemy, never mind all the other Drivers. All he could do was bide his time and wait.

On the stage, his wife soon sucked Hell Raiser to a full erection. It stood thick, black and heavy against his belly and in comparison to what Peter had to offer it looked massive. How could Susan possibly take such an obscenely monstrous thing?

Peter sat and watched, sick to the stomach, aware that she was already used to accommodating the man, and she must be acting well, for it looked as if taking it in her mouth was a pleasure, as if she was more than happy it wasn't Peter's mere standard issue.

Hell Raiser pulled the wheel around again.

This time he stopped it when Susan's legs faced him. Up on the combine Peter could clearly see thick pearls of juice on her lips, lubricating her swollen vagina, readying it for the onslaught.

The black man lowered his thighs again, his engorged bell-end knocking at her entrance. Her lips offered little resistance, parting at the first touch of his inflamed bulb. It squeezed its way in, fat and uncompromising, all the way up until she could manage no more. The heavy black thighs thumped home time and again, the solid turgid cock rammed into her hole, filling it completely, its thickness pushing against the walls of her cunt, demanding more space.

There was nothing Peter could do until the man emptied his balls inside his own young wife, the blonde innocent he had known since her sixth form. The quiet shy girl who chose cotton over silk, a vest in place of a camisole. The girl fucked so solidly on that glistening wheel was not his wife, not any more.

When the Hell Raiser finally lifted his great frame from her, a flood of spunk oozed from her wide crimson coloured cunt. He bent forward and gave her a kiss one might have even considered loving, then swaggered from the stage, his prick gleaming with the slick juices of sex. As he vanished into the smoky atmosphere Peter jumped from his position and rushed across to his wife.

"Susan!" he cried. "It's Peter."

She opened her eyes as the last of her many orgasms faded into nothing.

"Peter!" she whispered. "What the… Get away from here! You don't understand!"

"I do, I know everything."

He fumbled with the chains, searching for the lock. Thankfully they were only held by a bolt and didn't need a key. Peter sprung the chains and lifted Susan from the wheel.

"Well, well," said a voice in the smoke. "We meet at last."

Peter straightened up, prepared for a fight, waiting for the man to show himself. It wasn't just the one however. Out of the smoke stepped Jack, Lincoln, Colin and the Hell Raiser, each sporting a convincing scowl.

"We knew you'd come," said Jack. "Couldn't leave a beauty like that now, could you? Too good a fuck she is." He turned his attentions to Susan. "Too good at snatching cock aren't you Sue? The bigger the better."

Lincoln joined in the taunting. "We've all had her Peter. You don't mind us being personal do you? After all, we've all fucked your wife. You can't get more personal than that now, can you?"

"And boy is she a good fuck," added the Hell Raiser. "Well, you've just seen for yourself. Gives a good ride does Groovy. You know what I like? Those fat pussy lips of hers. You can really feel them grabbing at your prick, you know?" He turned to his friends and laughed. "No perhaps you don't, it's been so long since you saw them."

The group walked a step nearer, pushing Peter to the rear of the stage, when the Hell Raiser spoke again.

"The thing is, Groovy," he said through his familiar grin, "there's nothing we can do about Grandad here, but you've got a bit of a future. It'd be a great shame to lose you too. So we're going to ask you a few questions and if we like the answers, you're going to be a Driver's mate for some time yet."

It was a matter of self preservation and Susan knew it. If nothing else, being with The Drivers had taught her how to survive. When they asked her if she preferred being fucked by the Drivers to living with Peter she gave them the answer they wanted to hear. She preferred all their cocks to his, loved sucking them off and wanted to be owned by them. And when they asked if she wanted to go with him she said no.

"Then you don't care what happens to him?" Lincoln asked.

"No."

"Couldn't care if he was dead?" put in Colin.

There was a momentary pause as she looked at Peter. He smiled, resigned to his fate. "You can't save me anyway," he said.

She turned to the others and answered them in a small quiet voice: "No."

The four men moved forward in unison and Peter took the only chance he had. Snatching hold of Susan's wrist he flung himself, and her with him, off the stage and into the smoke. A cry of surprise came from the men and they jumped down in search.

Jack saw them first. Peter was leading Susan around the stage and heading back in the direction of Claire and Melanie. Jack called out to the others and they all gave pursuit, shouting and whooping in the excitement of the chase.

Above the incessant din of the music Claire and Melanie heard the shouts and knew something was wrong. Within moments they caught sight of Peter and Susan rushing towards them, screaming for them to run.

The four made it safely behind some pallets where they took a moment to catch their breath. It was a crazy time to have such thoughts, but Peter looked around him at the women and realised he had screwed all three of them. It added further adrenaline to his system and he felt more alive than he had done in years.

In a state of extreme tension and excitement he told the three girls to wait for his return and dashed out into the smoke filled room. Like a naked warrior going in to battle, he felt no fear. A beserker with senses bristling, he did little to hide himself as he made his way around the building in search of a vehicle. He found 'Joes Pick Up,' with Joe still in it, although the girl was missing, probably impaled on the end of someone's prick.

Peter walked across and opened the door.

"Hi!" shouted Joe, by way of a greeting. "Great fucking party -"

His words were cut short by Peter's knuckles crushing the bridge of his nose. The man fell to the floor screaming as Peter drove away to pick up the girls. The truck screeched to a halt at the pallets and all three girls jumped onto the back as the vehicle sped away towards the door.

Several Drivers who had discovered what had happened tried to stop them. Peter made no attempt to avoid any who got in his way, the light from the stroboscope making everyone look like robots as they juddered across the floor to kick and wave at the truck. Those who weren't quick enough he bounced to oblivion with the bumper.

As he approached the door he quickly realised there would be no time to stop and open it. His best bet lay in smashing it off the hinges. Screaming to the girls to hold tight he accelerated, hitting the wood at a fantastic speed and shattering it in a cloud of splinters.