George Perry - The willing wife

Jan squirmed and wigged, riding her orgasm like a giant wave, not knowing if or when the wave would fold over and engulf her. She clung to him with all her might, bumping and grinding until the balloon suddenly broke and she was swept away by the folding wave of relief.

Jeff had to rush off to school right after breakfast, leaving Jan with pangs of loneliness. They had slept through the night, completely exhausted and barely capable of responding to the distant sound of the alarm ringing in Jan's bedroom. She would have liked to have sent him off with one last remembrance, but there just wasn't time. And when he was gone, she thought about how it must feel for a young boy to go off to school after his first experience with a woman. She wondered if he'd tell any of his friends, even though she warned him not to tell anyone. She suddenly felt warm and contented.

By getting involved with her housework, she managed to wipe the thoughts of Jeff from her mind. She was satisfied. There wasn't any need to start fantasizing again. And just before noon Charles called from the office to tell her he was back from his business trip. Back at the bank, that is. The bank was home for Charles. Hearing his voice swept away the last twinge of fear she had about getting caught. Everything was back to normal.

The doorbell rang shortly after one o'clock, and when Jan went to the door to answer it, she was surprised to see a young boy standing there. She guessed he was no more than eighteen years old and she was certain he wasn't one of the local boys.

"Yes?" she asked in a slightly cold tone.

"Er… you Mrs. Latimer?"

"Yes I am."

"Well… er… I'm with the Boy Scouts and we're… er… trying to get donations for new uniforms."

His clothes were cheap and shabby, she noticed. And even his speech hinted that he wasn't from the area. As he spoke his eyes darted around her to see into the house and he seemed unusually nervous. She was equally puzzled by the fact he knew her name. As a precaution, she kept the screen door closed between them and talked through it.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" she asked.

"Naw. We got the day off to collect far the Boy Scouts."

She didn't believe that at all. "Well, I think you'd better come back when my husband is home. He already gives to the neighborhood clubs."

"Gee, even a quarter or a few cents would help. We need anything you can spare," he persisted.

"I guess I can spare a few cents," she said just to get him to leave. "You wait here and I'll get it."

As she turned her back on him and started back into the living room, she caught the sound of the latch on the screen door moving, then the door opening.

"I said wait there!" she said, turning to face him. But it was too late! She caught sight of two older boys coming through the door, blocking her from slamming the front door on them. She was filled with panic.

"Just keep quiet and you won't get hunt," the oldest said, grabbing her by the wrist and pushing her into the living room. He was followed by the other, slightly younger boy. Then two more boys entered behind them. They all seemed to be different ages, from about eighteen to twenty, she guessed.

"What do you want?" she gasped.

"Close that door, boy," he said to one of the last boys to enter. Then he looked her in the eyes and squeezing her wrist until it started to hurt, added, "Don't panic. We ain't going to do nothing to you. If you do as you're told."

"I don't understand," she said, almost in tears. "You're already hurting my wrist and you break into my house… and I'm not supposed to be scared?"

"It's not you we want… or your money." His eyes suddenly surveyed her body and made the statement difficult for her to believe. "Your husband is a big-shot at the bank. Right?"

"Well… yes."

"That's all we want then. Just some of the bank's money."

The shock was too much for her and she couldn't think straight. But if it was only the bank they wanted to hurt, she could live with that. The second oldest boy was tying her hands with a piece of clothesline.

"Shit, Bill, do your stuff. We ain't got all day," the one in charge said.

Jan watched the boy take out a can of spray paint, then, starting at the front door, spray a thick black line across the wall. He walked as he drew the line at eye level, in the foyer, around the corner and into the living room.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she cried.

"Just keep your mouth shut," the leader growled.

When the boy with the spray paint got to the middle of the living room wall he stopped, shook the can several times and started to write a message: "DON'T CALL COPS. NOTE ON TABLE."

Then he made a squiggle of an arrow to indicate the coffee table in front of the couch, where the leader was placing an envelope. As an afterthought he swept everything else off the table with his arm.

"Hey, Al," he called to the second oldest. "See if Mike has the car in the driveway."

"Yeah, he backed it in so nobody can see from the street," Al answered.

"Then we better get out of here."

"You better tape her mouth," Al said.

"Yeah. Almost forgot. And you better check to see that nothing is on the stove or anything to start a fire. We don't want any accidents to bring the cops."

"Hey, Tom," the young boy that originally rang the bell said. "Can I ride in the trunk with her?"

"Are you crazy?" Tom snapped back. "There's no room."

"She's nice," the boy added. "Real pretty, huh?"

They were all staring at her now and Jan felt terribly uncomfortable and helpless, with her hands tied and mouth taped.

"You know," Al, the second oldest, said. "We should really take off her slacks… so she don't get ideas about trying to run away. You know… just in case…"

"Maybe you've got something there," Tom said. "We'll strip off her pants so she can't go running down the street or something…"

Al and the young boy didn't wait for Tom to finish his sentence. They quickly jumped to the task of removing her slacks, pulling her panties off in the process. Jan struggled to fight them off but she was overpowered when Tom held her while they slipped her slacks off her feet. She felt small fingers, the little boy's she realized, squirming all over her buttocks. His little fingers were poking in the crack and going wild with delight back there, while the others stared at her naked front.

It was Tom who slipped his hand down her stomach and slithered it between her legs. She realized their original plan was slowly slipping to the background and a new set of ideas was taking over. Suddenly the urgency was gone from their actions and they seemed to have all the time in the world. And her own panic was taking a back seat to the constant movement of fingers all over her.

She squirmed and twisted, trying to avoid some of the pawing, grabbing, squeezing hands, slipping to the floor in a kneeling position, which seemed like a good idea. But they quickly rolled her over an her back and lifted her legs high in the air, exposing everything to their greedy little hands. And when they couldn't get her sweater off without untying her hands, they pulled it, along with her arms, up over her head. Her bra was twisted in there too, she realized, frightened by their hungry attack.

"Tom," Al said in a whisper, pulling the older boy by the arm, to get away from the others. Then, as they moved out of hearing range, he said, "Why don't we get rid of the kids and you and I give her a fast fuck?"

"Knock it off," Tom said sternly. "We've got a job to do. And we'd better get the hell out of here before we get caught."

"Awwww, come on," Al pleaded. "It'll only take a few minutes. And they didn't say nothin' about not porkin' her… so we can't get in trouble for that."