William Davis - Blackmailed

Fervently, she had wanted to believe him, and in a way, she did; after all, she loved her husband, hating what he was doing to make a living and not wanting these things, he explained so easily, to come between them. In the end, he always ended up taking her to bed and making passionate love to her. Jay was a virile, potent man… and if he were engaging in some clandestine, extra-marital sex… it sure didn't affect his desire for her.

In a way, that was the trouble. He was almost more than she could handle… as far as sex went. It seemed he was always wanting it… wanting to make love to her… sometimes at the oddest times…

Unbidden, her luminous China-blue eyes brimmed over with tears, remembering how it had been just two nights ago. Ever since they had been married, Jay had been trying to make love to her in ways that seemed unnatural… even perverted to her, but she hadn't reached the point, yet of letting him do some of those revolting things. Then, as she had thought about it, she had decided… If I'm going to keep my husband… keep him from straying… I'd better learn to… d-do… some of those far-out things!

She tossed her long, golden blonde hair back over her shoulders, using her hand to brush some of the stray hairs back as she went about getting her lonely meal ready.

Gulping down his dinner, that evening, two nights ago, Jay had rushed off, telling her that he had a good lead on some new evidence. It was a currently hot case he was working on, and his interest in it was intense.

… But, it was when he had arrived back home, at three in the morning, that she remembered most painfully. She had heard him park the car, in the carport; glancing at the bedside clock, she had noted the time. It was an ungodly hour. Somehow she resented it. Why can't he work at an eight-to-five job… like most other people do…? It was her strait-laced, conformingly structured mind at work.

As Jay came into the bedroom, the reeking fumes of alcohol preceded him. He was drunk, again. Betty sat up in bed and snapped on the bedside lamp, her deep-seated feelings of resentment rising even higher in her. He reeled over to the side of the bed and flopped down on the edge.

"Hello, darlin'… I'm home!" he smiled, crookedly.

"It's about time!" she said, coldly. "It's after three in the morning."

"Sure… I know what time it is…! And you ought to be glad to see me! I got it all wrapped up… tonight!"

"Why don't you tell me about it… in the morning… when you're sober!" Betty suggested, stretching out again, and pulling up the sheet.

"Hey! You don't get it… Baby! I got something to celebrate about!" He reached out for her, roughly, to take her into his arms. "… And I'm going to wind up the celebration… with you!"

"No… please! Wait Jay… until later!"

Instantly, his anger boiled over. "Like hell… I'll wait! I came home to you… like a good husband… and I'll be damned… if I'll be put off." He hauled her up to him, forcefully slamming his mouth down on hers, like some savage animal, his tongue splaying her lips, as it shot into her mouth, exploringly, tasting and savoring the sweetness of her mouth.

… But, Betty was having none of that… at that horrible hour of the morning and with her husband in such a drunken state. She tried to writhe away from him, to escape his mauling hands on her body and his plundering tongue in her mouth.

Finally, she could twist her head away, breaking the unwanted kiss, and pleaded with him. "Darling… Jay, darling… please… wait…?"

Her husband had pinned her to the bed. She was helpless. His hands were all over her, at first he pulled the sheet from her, then her filmy nightgown. She was stark naked, on the bed… but still she resisted him, stoutly, as he clutched and squeezed at her soft, sensitive flesh, his fingers digging, cruelly, into the pliant mounds of her full-orbed breasts. He was like a madman… and she didn't know how to cope with him.

Then, as she had watched in helpless horror, Jay had pulled off his own clothing, stripping himself naked in a matter of moments… and she saw his fully erect penis, standing out, rampantly, from his hairy loins; it was throbbing, hotly, with his sudden, furiously insane passion. She knew then that there was no escaping him. He would take her by force… make her do it… with him… whether she wanted to, or not. My God! My own h-husband… is going to r-rape me!

Jay dropped his weight down on his wife's cringing body, wrenching her fear-trembling thighs apart and pressing the white, lusciously tapering columns back against her breasts. He was breathing hard, and animal-like grunting sounds came from deep in his throat.

Desperately, she begged him, further. "OOoohh, Jay…! Please…? N-Not… this way! Please… D-Don't d-do it t-to me… like this!"

"Not this way… my way… or any other God damned way… I suppose… if you had your way about it… isn't that right…?" he growled.

"No… th-that's not… t-true…"

"Bull crap! You just don't like sex… and that's what keeps me the most frustrated son-of-a-bitch I know!" he spat, his handsome face a leering mask of lust, as he added, "Christ! I was getting laid more… when I was single!"

Wedging his hips between her lovely thighs, he snaked his hand down between them to grasp the pulsating shaft of his massively hardened cock. Abruptly, she felt the smooth, blunt head of his penis, as he used it to spread the soft, tender flesh of her cuntal opening. Then, crudely, he drew the bulbous head up through her unprepared furrow, to find her tiny clitoris, hidden in its fleshy folds at the top of her female slit.

"Oh, God… Jay… why are you d-doing this t-to me…?" she sobbed.

He had laughed a hard, cruel laugh. "Because… Mrs. Ballard… I've got a God damned right to fuck you! You've turned me off… with so many damned excuses… that I'm fed up… right up to my eye-balls!"

Rubbing the satin-smooth head of his cock against her clitoris, savagely, sending little, jolting spasms of unwanted arousal through her and reveling in his debasement of his lovely wife, he went on, "And, now… I'm going to fuck the hell out of you… for the last time, maybe… but Baby… you'll know you've been fucked!"

Betty tried to make sense out of his drunken, coarse language… and the message that came over to her was: He's thinking about… l-leaving m-me!

"Jay! Oh, Jay… darling… you know I-I love you! I couldn't stand t-to… lose you!"

"It's getting pretty damned late… to be worrying about that isn't it…?" he spat out, thickly.

Then, with drunken, unfocusing eyes, her husband had looked down at her wide-splayed loins, placed the lust-inflated head of his cock at her vaginal opening and lunged into her with all his strength, to drive his aching prick deep into the softness of her cringing, unready cuntal passage.

"AAAAaaaaaauuuuuooooohhhhhh!" she had cried out in pain, as his impaling shaft had gored deep into her tender belly. She felt as if some medieval instrument of torture had been poked into her… after having been heated to flesh-searing temperature.

It seemed to her that his plundering cock had torn into her, scraping the tender walls of her vagina raw… and she could feel the abraded flesh of her cuntal sheath as it was squeezed and pulled, desperately, around and ahead of the throbbing, bulbous head of it. It was horrible for her… and all she could think was: It's Jay… my husband… d-doing it…! But, she couldn't believe it!

With a desperation, born of fear, she attempted to squirm her hips down and away from the impaling shaft of his lust-filled prick… but there was no escaping it. He kept pushing deeper and deeper, forcing it into the warm, unreceptive depths of her vagina, rolling waves of her tender flesh before his rampaging cock.