John Friday: Twin wives in bondage

His prick was so long he could coil both hands around the shaft, which he did, pumping faster now until the bright knob of his cock bulged and pulsed with each beat of his racing heart.

Fred leaned forward, leering hungrily as he released his cock and reached for her creamy tits. Palms still warm from the heat of his cock, he pressed down on her rigid nipples, mauling the firm, dark circles of flesh while his fingers spread and clawed the smooth white slopes.

"Hhhaarrgh!" Vicky's cheeks puffed behind the wall of sticky tape. Confusion raged in her mind. She felt the biting cold of sheer terror when she watched his giant cock swing free, and yet she had felt the bursting warmth of a long smoldering desire.

His strong hands pawed and kneaded her tits like dough, squeezing and shaping her tender tit flesh, bulging her dark-red nipples upward to meet his drooling lips.

Stretched flat on her back, naked and squirming, Vicky didn't look as plump and disgusting as she did in her dumpy clothes. In fact, she had a really great pair of tits! Fred nipped at one tit and teased its rigid tip with his darting tongue.

"Hhhooapph!" Vicky's cheeks swelled.

Fred caught her other nipple then he gnawed on it, raking the thick knob up and down while he lashed back and forth with hungry sweeps of his wet tongue.

This tit-sucking sent burning swirls of torment and twisted delight racing through Vicky's mind. She feared and hated the cruel bite of the ropes that bound her in helpless submission. She loathed Fred's crushing weight on her heaving belly mound. She felt jabbing bolts of fear in the depths of her cunt when she thought of the heat and power of his huge cock.

At the same time, Vicky felt a trembling kind of fearful satisfaction. No man, as well built and handsome as Fred James, had ever given her more than a second glance. Some had been drawn to her knowing she came from a rich family, but Vicky always saw the way their lips curled with poorly hidden disgust.

Fred's mouth churned with raging desire, grinding over one tit, then the other with the fierce and violent hunger of a starving wolf. At the same time, his hips rocked back and forth. The knob of his blazing cock pressed hotly against the puffed lips of her trembling slit.

Vicky pleaded in garbled fear. She shook her head. But Fred only grinned as he bobbed between her fantastic tits.

Suddenly he rammed his cock into her virgin cunt with the force and violence of a harpoon shot deep into a whale.

Vicky's wide and frightened eyes took on the frosty glaze of horror when she felt the heat of his big cock shaft stab in, splitting her tight cunt, and squishing out a trickle of hot virgin blood.

"Uuuurrrmh!" she gasped.

After one swift stab, Vicky could only wail trapped cries of grinding joy and tug frantically against her bonds, bucking and aching to satisfy the suddenness of her savage lust.

Fred sighed, smiling wryly as he turned to pace the length of the redwood deck, ambling toward the sunken hot tub at the far end and the cloud of sultry steam rising silently above.

Poor fat, stupid Vicky and her slithering virgin twat could not tell love and the heat of flaming passion from raging frustration and the blaze of vengeful lust. She thought Fred loved her madly and begged him to marry her when he had finally stripped the tape off her puffed lips. She was still shivering in the joyous afterglow of her searing climax.

That got Fred his first job at her father's plant. Some job! They gave him a big office with a fancy title painted on the door, but he was only a fucking errand boy. The rest, Fred did all on his own. He kicked and clawed his way up as brutally as he had mauled Vicky's huge tits and raped her cunt.

Street-wise and cunning tempered like steel by what he'd learned twisting arms and breaking legs in dark alleys near the dock Fred soon found he had a good mind for business. The corporate world had carpet on the floor, but it was still a fucking jungle. Dog eat dog… and the meanest dog always came out on top.

The only difference was that Vicky's father and his brethren played by different rules. They worked with phony mergers and crooked stock deals instead of blackjacks and brass knuckles. Beady eyed lawyers were their enforcers vicious as weasels in fancy silk suits, more venomous than cobras behind their practiced smiles.

Different rules, but the same old game. The goal was to leave the other poor bastard bloody, bent on his knees and begging for his ass. And Fred James knew that game better than most. He soon doubled the company's profits, and then doubled them again, making himself rich beyond his wildest dreams.

Wealth and power made it possible to tolerate Vicky. She satisfied herself mainly by stuffing her face with rich foods and thick, creamy desserts. In a few years she looked like a fucking sow, and Fred could hardly stand the sight of her.

They went through all the motions of being a happily married, devoted couple like dancers at some gaudy masquerade, they swirled from party to party at the homes of their rich friends. They went to all the charity balls, Vicky beaming as she stood beside her handsome and successful husband.

But they rarely went home together…

Fred didn't know or give a shit what Vicky did, as long as she stepped aside at the right moment. That was the arrangement they'd worked out beneath their cloak of smiling respectability.

Vicky liked to fuck with the hired help. She picked chauffeurs for the lengths of their cocks, and butlers for their willingness to maul her bulging, mink-draped tits. Tonight Vicky was in Venice probably getting her fat ass fucked by same greasy gondolier. In Italian, a man can sneer, "You fat, stupid rich whore," and make it sound romantic.

Fred took his pleasures with the sexy young wives of rich old men whom he had met in business. He liked nothing better than to whip some pompous bastard's ass with a clever deal while he ravaged his pretty wife's cunt just for fun.

That doubled the thrill of victory and swelled Fred's massive cock with the heat and overwhelming strength of triumph. Only once in his life had he felt more satisfaction that first night long ago when he overpowered Vicky and started it all.

Memories of that and some long simmering dissatisfaction with the phony glitter of his life now was what attracted him to Wilma in the steno pool. She had the same dreary, downcast eyes as Vicky had when they first met. Halting and uncertain, the stuffy closed-in look of a woman who can't remember how good it feels to give in to the power of a huge cock… if, in fact, she ever knew.

No cunt before or since had grasped so eagerly at the shaft of his driving cock as Vicky did that night. Fred thought Wilma would do the same, once he cracked her prudish shell and set her frustrated senses free.

That was why he had invited Wilma, and Wilma alone, to his house that night. To a party, she thought… to get to know her possible new boss. Fred smiled, as sly as one of his company lawyers. It would be a party after all – a very special, very private little party. And Wilma would get to know him far better than she ever thought.

Jack watched the hurried loading of the last truck, then he left the darkened warehouse with anger blazing in his eyes. His temper flared as he drove toward home, bucking the snarl of cross town traffic.

Ahead, he could see the lights shining down from the fancy homes up on the hill, a glaring reminder of how damn hard he worked and how damn little he had to show for it. Pressure at work, bills at home, and now on top of it all Wanda was giving him shit!

"I'll show that smart-mouthed bitch!" he snarled as he tugged on the wheel and swerved to pass a slow-moving car in front.

Horns blared, tires screeched, and he saw another driver flip him off.