Val Marrick - Roped and raped family

"Don't do it, Mom," Coe said, her voice low and sullen.

Jake's head didn't turn, but his aim was perfect. The belt lashed out and with a loud smack turned Betsy's other tit a glowing, painful pink to match the other one. Her nipples stood out stiffly, responding to the pain.

"Ohhhh…" the blonde girl moaned.

Jeanette felt her eyes fill with hot tears. She'd been a good mother, a capable one, and while she'd done her best to see that her children learned to stand on their own, she'd always tried to protect them. Now they were in a more dangerous situation than any she could have imagined, and she was powerless to help them.

But there was a way she could help Betsy – for now, at least. As if of its own accord one brown hand, still slim and fine despite the toils of ranch work, stole up the front of her shirt and toyed with the top button. Jake's tongue traveled a slow circuit of his lips as she undid the button and folded the shirt open slightly – enough to reveal a hint of white titflesh. Bob swallowed audibly.

It was strange that the two should react so, with two totally naked and totally desirable teenaged girls sitting in arm's reach of them. But Jeanette's lush body was a mystery to them, one they were becoming increasingly eager to have unveiled. Rolling her hips slowly, she undid another button, and another.

With her thumbs she pushed back the front of the shirt, slipping her fingers under her brassiere clad boobs and raising them as if offering the twin treasures of titflesh to her captors. Her nipples were taut now, wine-dark and visible through the filmy cups of her bra. Despite herself, she was getting excited.

It had nothing to do with the two scruffy strangers sitting in her living room pointing a gun at her – her own husband's shotgun – or the certainty that as soon as she was naked – if they even waited that long – they would rape her savagely and repeatedly. What was impelling her to perform the steamily erotic dance for her captors was her daughter's safety, temporary as it would be – but the reasons she put such delicious carnal life into every motion of her exquisite body was something else again.

Her husband, John Mason, whom she'd married at sixteen and had loved all her life, had always taken delight in watching his wife undress. Long after each had learned all the sexual secrets of the other's body. Jeanette undressing languidly, teasingly, by the fireside late at night with the kids in bed in the big master bedroom with its brass four-poster, had never failed to get both of them so incredibly aroused that their fucking seemed a new and overwhelming experience. Jeanette had loved to strip for John as much as he'd loved to watch her. When she stood nude and he came for her with a growl of lust, her pussy was always wet and hot and desperately hungry for the thrusting fullness of his big hard cock.

Now she was doing her dance of lust again, this time for two total strangers, to save her young daughter a few moments of pain the vicious men would probably give her anyway.

But with her eyes shut, it was almost as if John were alive again.

She writhed out of her rustic shirt. Her body was sheened with perspiration. Her skin was white except for her face, hands, and the vee of her neck – unlike her elder daughter, she'd never been much of a sun-worshipper. Her hands roved her body, cupping her tits, stroking down her flat belly to undo ever so slowly the button of her fly. Then she drew the zipper down gradually, her hips undulating. She could almost feel the strangers' eyes swiveling to follow the motion.

She peeled back the front of her jeans and slipped a hand into her panties. Her cunt-fur was hot under her palm. She gave a small soft moan of pleasure at the pressure of her own hand on the mound of her pussy. Her fingers probed briefly, and she wasn't surprised to find the crisp hair that fringed the mouth of her pussy wet and matted with aromatic cunt-oils.

Her hand came out again, and neither Jake nor Bob missed the shine on her fingertips that told of the moist eagerness of her cunt. "God damn," Bob muttered. Little Jake just stared.

Deliberately she pulled her tight jeans down her long sculptured legs. She turned gradually so that when she kicked off her shoes and bent to pull her pants off, her ass was pointed right at the men, her white panties stretched taut over the bulging mounds of her asscheeks. Then she straightened, took off the band and shook a cascade of gleaming hair down her back. She reached behind herself and undid the clasp of her bra. Holding the cups of the bra in place in front of her ripe tits, she turned back to face the men, her green eyes still shut, her full lips slightly parted in a half-smile.

She fondled her tits through the cloth of her bra. Slowly she worked one cup down until a brown-red nipple peeked above it, stark against the snowy paleness of her tits. Then she spun like a ballerina, and when she came around to face the spectators again whipped the bra away so that her tits flew free, bouncing loosely, her inflated nipples making figure-eights in the air.

She could feel the horniness emanating from the two men. She could even feel excitement growing unwilling in her son.

She reached up to cup her boobs again, the satiny flesh slipping through her fingers until she squeezed her cherry-like nipples between her fingers. The pleasure in her boobs was electric.

She dropped her hand to her sides and ran her fingers inside the elastic band of her panties. She started to work her underwear down her hips, turning sideways as the first tuft of mahogany cunt-fur fluffed out over the top of her panties. Her tits swung forward, juicy and tempting as ripe fruit, she leaned down to slip her panties off first one and then the other slim tapering calf.

She turned her back. The onlookers sighed at the sight of her bare ass, the snow-white demi globes demurely pressed together. Slowly she moved back to face Jake and Bob. Her breath was coming quickly now, her pulse hammering with the lust that grew in her pussy. It had been a long time since she'd had a long stiff cock inside the silken sheath of her cunt. In spite of herself, she was filled with nervous anticipation. Her tits seemed to swell with lust. Her nipples vibrated with passion.

She held her panties coyly before the thatch of her pussy. Her hips began to grind again, gently at first, then working up to a lewd ass-thrusting free swinging motion that drove the male watchers crazy. Abruptly she flicked her panties away, spread her feet wide, and stood, hands on her hips.

"Holy shit!" Bob gasped.

Her pussy-bush was a downward pointing arrowhead. At its tip, her cunthair was dewed with glistening pussy-juice. Jeanette cocked her hips, rolling them back so that her luscious ass fucked in and her cunt blossomed like an exotic pink flower before the strangers' startled eyes. Then she spun away again, breathing heavily.

Behind her, Jeanette heard the rustle of clothing being hurriedly cast aside. Her tits rose with a deep, unsteady breath. Guiltily she realized she was awaiting an inevitable rape with something resembling pleasure.

Rough hands seized her narrow waist. She inhaled sharply as something hard was poked between her buttcheeks and jabbed at the flesh between her pussy and her asshole. Then the hardness slipped down and shoved apart the lips of her pussy.

"Auugghh!" she gasped as her cunt was fucked instantly full of the thickest cock she'd ever felt. "Ohhhhh… oh, God!"

The unseen man was fucking her pussy with short powerful strokes. She realized that the cock pistoning in and out of her cunt in a welter of steaming pussy-sauces wasn't very long, but it more than made up for that in thickness. She'd never had the walls of her cunt so delightfully stretched – even the first time John had slipped his huge prick into her then-virgin twat hadn't been so intensely pleasurable.