Paul Gable - Raped daughter, roped mother

"Uhhhhh… ooohhh…" she cooed.

Dina's pussy flared and clenched, rumbling under the heat of her continuous orgasm. When it was finally over, the girl rolled her head to one side and opened, her eyes.

He had done it! Jack had raped her, fucked her right here in her own home. And she hadn't resisted.

"Nice, baby, real nice," he sighed, dragging his fingers over her thighs.

"Don't… don't touch me."

Jack laughed, slapping her belly lightly.

"Feisty bitch. That's how I like 'em." He paused for a moment, screwing up his eyes. "You're too good for one fast fuck, baby. We're goin' places," he said, withdrawing his softening prick.

"No, no!" she protested.

Jack pulled Dina across the floor, then leaned her against the sofa. He threw her clothes at her face and ordered her to dress.

Several miles away her mother, Wendy Moulton, was having difficulties as well. Wendy's date had taken her to dinner, then suggested they stop for drinks at his home. The woman was no innocent fool, but felt she could handle a junior executive who seemed mild enough.

They passed the remainder of the evening pleasantly enough, sitting at opposite ends of the couch while the attractive blonde carefully kept her legs crossed and her hands to herself.

Yes, Brad Romoff was a handsome young man, aggressive, going far in the company. Wendy had seen the envy in some of the girls' eyes when they heard he'd asked her out on a date. She was so much older than some of them… nearly thirty-six. And he had chosen her.

For a while Wendy thought about turning him down. It had been, after all, such a long time since she'd been out with a man. She almost felt a little foolish about this dating nonsense. Getting excited about Brad's invitation seemed a bit childish.

But, unknown to her daughter, Wendy had been thinking of nothing but sex for the past few weeks. All those lectures on morality were lies, a sham when it came to herself. Oh, how she wanted a man to hold her, to fuck her as her late husband had. But she was such a coward.

When Brad had asked her out, she hoped that he might be the man to release her from this sexual prison. Sipping her third drink and feeling a bit heady, the attractive blonde eyed her date with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

"I… I really should be going," Wendy announced, setting down her half-finished drink. Her head was beginning to spin just a little bit, and she began worrying about her daughter. There had been all those break-ins in the neighborhood lately.

"Just one more," Brad insisted, sliding a little closer to her on the couch.

"Well, all right."

Wendy's voice was low and trembling. She felt her body warming as Brad took her glass and walked to the bar for refills. She took the glass back from him and sipped more of the burning liquor. It felt good going down into her belly, warming her body, increasing the heat already growing below her hips. The tickle in her cunt, the pawing sensation which distracted her all evening, was getting more intense and concentrated. The ice tinkled merrily in her glass as she sat there on his leather couch, her legs squeezed together.

"You know, I've been watching you at the office lately," Brad confessed after a long, uncomfortable silence.

"Oh?"

Wendy took another sip, feeling the liquor's effects rushing to her head. Her ass felt so sensitive, and the burning ache in her cunt almost became unbearable! As she adjusted her position, her cuntlips rubbed against one another and touched her stiffening clit.

"Sure. I can't see why you didn't notice. But, you never did," Brad continued, folding his hands together and grinning at her.

Wendy didn't know exactly where this conversation was going, but she was starting to enjoy the path. She took another drink, swallowing the amber Scotch. She smiled and felt a little dreamy, a little drunk.

Her thoughts swerved to her dress. Perhaps the one she'd chosen was a little matronly. Dina had thought so. Perhaps she should have chosen one with a higher hemline and lower bodice, something that would have shown her ample, high-riding tits. She could just imagine how the conversation would have gone with Brad's eyes fastened on her tits.

Barely suppressing a giggle, Wendy took yet another sip, running the thin glass rim over her lower lip.

"I'm so busy, Brad. I don't want to lose my job. I've a daughter to support and… all that," she rambled, staring back at him.

"Well, you don't have to think about your daughter tonight," he said, reaching over and puffing the glass from her hand.

Panic raced through her mind and body. Instinctively, Wendy pulled back, wedging her spine into a corner of the couch. Her flesh quivered and her thighs flexed against the leather. She closed her eyes. The friction of her cuntlips over her swollen clit made her catch her breath.

"You want to be with me, don't you?" Brad asked her.

Wendy sucked in her lower lip and bit it.

Her breathing had become more shallow and hot through her flared nostrils. The booze had shaken her already weak defenses.

"I don't know what I want, Brad. I… I'm a little drunk and…"

Wendy felt so out of focus, giddy, like a teenager out on her first date. For five years she had given up men, and everything they stood for, to raise her daughter and establish a career for herself. Fucking was considered an unnecessary luxury.

But lately all Wendy could think about was men, and what they could do for a woman. She remembered how her husband had fucked her in every room of the house. Sam had been creative, she had that to say for him. Never had she complained about the ways he fucked her. In fact she had worried many times that Dina would overhear them enjoying themselves.

"Sure you do," Brad said, interrupting her thoughts. "Just like, every woman I know. You want a nice, stiff cock. You want some fucking, right?"

"Oh, no, no…" she protested weakly.

Wendy shivered as Brad drew her close to him. He was kissing the nape of her neck, breathing heavily, while his fingers roamed dangerously close to her tits. She was pressing against the couch, her pulse racing, her mind spinning around and around crazily until she couldn't think.

Driving back, Wendy brushed her hair from her face and dropped her gaze. She saw one of his hands come to rest between his legs. As she watched, he massaged his cock, giving her a look at its long, hard outline. She felt her cheeks burning bright red and her heart pounding.

"Brad… please, I've gotta go. Really, I can't."

Her tits were itching around her nipples, and her furry little cunt was quickly heating up as her damp, swollen pussy lips twitched together. A knot of tension formed between her belly and her cunt while electrifying shocks washed up and down her flesh.

"You want it bad, don't you? I've seen you at the office glancing at me and some of the other guys. I can see a woman who's looking for a man, a woman wanting it."

"Noooo…"

She was purring, breathing heavily. Her body seemed to melt and her cunt closed up tight under its thick forest of pussy hair. There was nothing more in the world she wanted, at that moment, than to feel a man all over her, feel his cock touching her, squeezing through her cuntflesh!

"Sure you do… nice hot prick, hot cock going through your body," he insisted.

Wendy felt a strange thrill zap through her. Brad was doing something. Glancing down again, she saw him fumbling with his zipper and belt.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, a lump forming in her throat. Her mouth was so dry she could barely form the words.

"Come on."

She tried getting up, feeling she should be protesting against this kind of advance. A man shouldn't be doing this on the first date. He should be more restrained, not pulling his trousers open and taking this prick out!