Roger Grayson - The Two-Way Mirror

Instantly, shame and degradation nearly overwhelmed Karen at the obscene, debasing animal stance he had forced her into. She felt like some, medieval harem concubine bent servilely before her master in an attempt to bring him his lustful pleasure. Once again, her anger raged inside her and she tried to pull forward and away from his plunging cock, but he reached forward with both hands grasping her by the shoulders, pulling her whole body back tight against him, flattening her upraised buttocks with a solid, resounding whack, his halls slapping furiously into the splayed, hair-lined lips of her moist, wide-stretched cunt.

Karen's moans of pain and humiliation went unheeded as he ground into her, his thick hard cock sunk to its fullest depth in her quivering white belly, and she felt the hardness of the smooth rubbery head jammed tight against her cervix. He pressed her thighs out even wider and brought his hands back to her smooth, narrow waist and began a slow, tormenting rotation of his rigid prick deep inside of her vagina.

My God, I'm going to split apart! "You're hurting me! Damn you!" she panted back at him as he forced gasp after gasp from deep in her lungs with the brutal manipulations of his thundering, routing prick. But even as she spoke the pain began to lessen and she felt her wet soft passage expanding further and further with each plunge and greater rotation he made inside her. Only the pressure of the weight of his hands forcing her upper torso down to raise her buttocks upward toward his face was causing her immediate agony. Yet the tingling that had begun in her loins to blend with it was instigating a new masochistic pleasure unfamiliar but weirdly appealing to her.

Now, he was pumping into her from behind with bruising force, squeezing the supple flesh of her joggling buttocks as choking whimpers gurgled from his heavy belly. He twisted and rammed forward, his fingers beginning to dig at her cringing, tightly puckered anus, the very thought sending a deep seated wave of shame and humiliation coursing through her at the vision of her complete, servile nakedness and subjugation before this vile man she had willingly given herself to.

God… he's getting bigger and bigger inside me! His lewd thick cock is filling my whole belly… it's going to choke me!

Suddenly, Karen found to her own amazed repugnance that she was moving her buttocks back rhythmically toward his rampaging cock, undulating her hips in lewd voluntary circles, abandoning herself to the obscene fucking she was receiving from behind with uncontrollable and mounting desire. She turned her face sideways to look back at him and when Fletcher saw it contorted in growing rapture be nearly went wild.

He could feel his heated cock growing thicker and thicker in her belly, as he ground savagely into her with a wave of sadistic delight flickering across his fat, round face. His prick had suddenly begun to ache and burn as it never had before. He was almost there… nearer and nearer, and the way she was swaying and dancing on the end of his cock he was certain that she was too.

Karen had fallen into a spell of sheer entrancement. The delicious constraining force building inside her was an ecstatic pleasure she had never before known; nothing else mattered but that ever-mounting blissful pressure his thundering, thick cock was producing inside her and she had given herself over wantonly to it. It was enormous, breathtaking, overshadowing all pain and agony, making it all understandably worthwhile… his ugliness… Oh he was beautiful! The world was beautiful! Fucking was beautiful!

Her belly burst open in one great moment of joyous rapture and she screamed… knowing she was cumming… never believing that she could… a gush of something hot and wet seeming to flood her loins, her stomach quivering, her thighs convulsing spasmodically to finally spread over her whole exhausted body in one complete trembling shudder. She wanted to collapse but he held her with insane clutching hands. She felt her thighs and buttocks swept wide apart In one last ass battering attack as he shoved it as far as he could up into her belly and began squirting his hot, searing sperm deep up inside her. He threw back his head and wailed: "Aaaagggghhh."

Karen felt his hot load of vile liquid filling her vaginal passage with a compelling force for the second time that night. Dear God! She sensed it flooding hotly into her, filling the depths of her womb until she thought she would drown from it. There were several convulsive jerks of his pelvis against the soft cheeks of her buttocks, and then be gradually slithered down and away from her, his rapidly deflating member pulling out of her with a wet, lewd sucking sound

Karen fell forward onto her face and lay quietly unmoving. She turned her face away from him where he lay, but heard his spent breathing as it filled the room.

"Well?" he said after a while.

She didn't answer. In the aftermath of her initial climactic moment of ecstasy she felt horribly let down and loathsome of her own self. Why ever she should, she didn't know. She had no one she was responsible to; she had committed no infidelity. Then, she thought of Jeff and tears came into her eyes. She had never known this sexual satisfaction with him… but whose fault was that? His birthday… dear God! She had done this on his birthday!

"Was it that bad?" Fletcher said, putting his hand on her back.

Karen cringed beneath his hand. "Don't touch me!" she spat, jumping from the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she began to pull on her clothes.

"What the hell…!" Karl Fletcher exclaimed. "You must be some kind of nut. One minute, you're wild… your ass is humping like a bitch in heat. The next, you're about as friendly as a cold shower on a winter's morning. I don't get you, baby. Just what is your hang-up, anyway?"

Karen gaped at the naked, obese man on the bed, sick inside herself at the thought that she had actually degraded herself to the point of giving her body to him, but more upset with the fact that he had satiated it… for the first time in her life. Truly, she had defiled Jeff's memory… and on his very birthday.

She tried to speak… couldn't; her tears choked her. Instead, the dressed as rapidly as she could and ran from the room. Thank God, he hadn't tried to stop her. She was certain that she would have killed him. In the living room she picked up her manuscript from the table and ran out into the hall. She never wanted to see him again as long as she lived!

"Do come in, Mr. Lewis," Muriel Brendell said following an over-brief moment of surveillance of the young man, an expression of welcome surprise flickering across her extremely attractive countenance. "We've been expecting you."

She spoke with a decided British accent, Jeff thought as he stepped inside the scrumptiously furnished apartment, wondering where he had seen her before. He stood rather immobilely, thinking, as she closed the door, then moved in front of him with an over-the-shoulder smile, leading the way to the sitting room. Jeff watched her exquisite body undulate beneath the sheer, bright summer dress she wore, high up on her thighs stylishly… and she had the legs for it, he thought, split seconds before he recognized her.

"Muriel Standard!" he said suddenly, embarrassed immediately after he'd said it.

"Well… you please me, Mr. Lewis," she said smiling. "Won't you sit down. My husband will join us in a moment. "Can I get you a drink or something?"

"No… I… ah… thank you," Jeff said, dropping into the proffered chair. "You… You are Muriel Standard?"

"Yes… yes, I am, but I'm flattered that you'd recognize me. I mean, only a few of my pictures played in the states…" she said, lowering herself modestly into a chair.

"Pygmalion, of course. Who could forget that? You were magnificent," Jeff said enthusiastically. "As a matter of fact, I think it's a shame you've given up the movies… so young, so vibrant."