Peter Jensen - The blackmailed wife

Slowly she dropped her other arm to grasp his wrist tightly, but that didn't stop the hand. It continued its ruthless teasing under her crotch, probing at her moist slit through the thin dress and panties. There was no more she could do without creating a scene, so Ann resigned herself, almost with relief to Carlos' sneaky probing of her already-wet genitals. She squirmed slightly away from it as his middle finger began a gentle stroking motion, pushing the folds of her dress moistly into her suddenly throbbing crevice. A gush of shame washed through her at the sudden waves of indecent pleasure overcoming her desire to resist. Carlos' hand under her buttocks became bolder as it sensed her tacit surrender to its probings. He hooked his middle finger to slide her dress up the backs of her thighs so that he could penetrate the moist softness underneath. She could feel already the light tickling sensation of the material sliding from between her thighs and the cushion.

Oh God, what should she do? This was sheer lunacy; allowing herself to be used like this – and worse – enjoying it! What was happening to her?

Ann bit hard on her lower lip, glancing to see if Julia showed any signs of awareness. But she was still concentrating on the stage as Pete's hand continued its stroking.

She could feel the dress rising faster now, though still not apparent from the lap. She lifted inadvertently as a fingernail scratched the softness of her thigh, as the dress slid upward more rapidly in response to Carlos' hooking finger. Suddenly, she gasped aloud. There was no more dress. Carlos' hand covered all of the wet band of her panties and was snaking under the elastic leg-band and worming into the moist walls of her soft pussy. She squirmed against it, holding her breath for fear some tell-tale sound might escape her lips. Her whole torso quivered until her impaled vagina became accustomed to the invading finger probing at the lubricated softness of its tender walls. She could feel its moisture covering the palm of the hand beneath her buttocks as it ground imperceptibly into her crotch. Carlos' fingers moved in circles inside her, expanding her tight little hole with each teasing rotation. Ann was almost out of her mind, now. She didn't think she could stand this maddening teasing of her genitals another moment. She was ready to crawl the wall to quench the fire raging through her contracting vagina. The sight of the girl on the stage being buffeted into the squeaking mattress by the St. Bernard and the long thin finger, fucking into her cunt without mercy, were just too much! Something had to give!

It did.

Suddenly there was a loud cry from the stage. The girl was twisting her head from side to side wildly, her long dark hair churning on the mattress. She was in the beginning throes of an orgasm and screwed her buttocks greedily against the dog like a she-demon gone insane. The giant animal's tongue hung from his mouth as he fucked into the waving buttocks from behind. Saliva dripped from it, onto the sweat on her back. She screamed suddenly and rammed back against the dog wildly just as he jerked forward and his cock began spitting its sperm in hard spurts deep in her clasping vagina. Ann watched in fascination as the girl's round buttocks began contracting uncontrollably, signaling her own orgiastic upheaval deep in her quivering belly. Thick white liquid oozed from her tight cunt squeezing the prick of the dog; thin trails of the sticky white ran down the ivory columns of her thighs. Her backside glistened, displaying soaked pubic hair and pink flesh as she pitched forward on her face, unconscious; the rapidly deflating cock of the dog slipping from her mauled passage-way with a sucking noise that echoed lewdly through the stunned silence of the room. The girl was out cold and the dog stood above her wagging his tail in obvious appreciation. In a last act of obscene depravity he dropped his head to her wide-spread crotch and licked at the white sticky liquid oozing from her still quivering cunt. He gulped at it hungrily until at last there was no more and lay down contentedly between her open legs, his giant head nuzzled gently into the soft vee of her ravished pelvis.

The curtain closed slowly, leaving the depraved scene – the subjugated girl and her animal lover lying in satiated sleep – imprinted deeply in the minds of the breathless crowd. The room was filled with the stale air of excited breathing that had accompanied the passion-inciting exhibition. No one present had not felt the sensations of lust at that final climax – including Ann Morrow. It was with relief and regret that she felt Carlos' finger slip from her tortured vagina and his hand slide from beneath her. She was close to her own orgasm and in a few more moments, would herself have been as helpless a victim of passion as the girl unconscious on the bed in front of them.

Ann's eyes were still on the stage her breath coming in gasps as the curtain closed. She had never been so excited, sexually by anything and it frightened her. To actually see a beautiful young girl subjugated by an animal was far beyond the scope of her imagination – and for the girl to enjoy it the way she did with the St. Bernard was beyond anyone's imagination. Ann was a nervous wreck when Ramon announced that the lights would be turned on in three minutes. There was a bustle of clothing being straightened and she guiltily pulled down her own dress under which Carlos' hand had been probing into her moments before. She felt the wet between her thighs as she lifted herself slightly off the seat and smoothed her dress beneath her buttocks.

She saw, out of the corner of her eye, Julia reluctantly forcing Pete's hand out of the front of her panties and pulling her dress down as the lights flicked on. Ann was crimson at having to face all these people after the lewd exhibition on stage, but there was nothing she could do but look as nonchalant as possible under the circumstances.

"Boy," Pete said, wiping his perspiring forehead with a handkerchief. "That was some hot little bitch up there. Did you see the way she gave that hound a ride? Bet he'll never be happy with another she St. Bernard again."

Julia and Carlos laughed at the joke and Ann forced a smile. He knew she had been on the verge of losing control of herself and for this reason, she could not look at him. She had never felt so humiliated and ashamed in her life and could not understand how Julia could sit here so calmly after letting Pete do the things he did to her while the lights were down. She just did not understand it and a sudden wave of revulsion came over her when she remembered her own behavior and how she had allowed Carlos to take so many liberties with her own body.

God, what had come over them? They were both married women and had husbands away at sea and here they had acted like two whores picked up on the street – which is just what had happened! They had been picked up!

"Well, let's have a drink everyone," Pete said, wiping his flushed face with a handkerchief. "I need it after that exhibition of bedroom gymnastics. Come on, I've arranged a private room for us to cool off in; then we can continue where we left off, eh baby?" He patted Julia playfully on the buttocks as she rose from the couch. Ann was shocked and the sudden impact of what he was suggesting caught her unaware. She refused to move when the others got up.

"Well come on, Ann," Julia smiled down at her. "I think you need a drink too." She directed a knowing smile at Carlos who had also risen and was waiting with the others.

"I-I'm not going. I want to go home now," she stammered, looking at the floor. Tears of humiliation were forming in the corners of her downcast eyes.

"Oh, for God's sake, baby, don't keep giving us that innocent act," Pete blurted suddenly. "I saw you rubbing against that seat like you had a short fuse under you, who do you think you're kidding?"