Richard Van Dorne - Ravished wife

As she looked into the mirror she saw that her jaw had gone slack, leaving her face in a mask of lust-incited desire.

"Ooooohhh," she moaned aloud.

She couldn't do it again, she just couldn't. Pamela remembered the tremendous guilt that she had harbored the last time she masturbated. It was wrong, wrong, but it felt so nice. Please, she begged herself, please stop this torture. She seemed to be like another person in the mirror, her face contorted with the need for orgasm and the terrible guilt that she felt.

As suddenly as she had begun, she stopped. With all her willpower she removed her wet fingers from the warmth of the hair lined lips between her legs and breathed a sigh of relief. She had won, but still the embers of passion smouldered in her yearning body.

The bath, she thought, the hot bath would soothe the ache that she felt and make her forget what she had almost done.

Gingerly she lowered herself into the steaming tub, feeling the hot water slap at the white moons of her soft buttocks. The heat surrounded her thighs as she sank lower, surging between her thighs like ocean waves.

"Mmmmm," she moaned aloud and allowed her sleek, firm body to sink into the tub, nearly submerging herself.

She sat back and pulled a washcloth from beside her. Pamela looked at her breasts as they rose and fell above the water in slow even rhythm. It'll stop, she thought as she felt the hot bathwater mix with the warm juices that had lubricated her aching vagina. Here I am, a grown woman, and yet I can't enjoy sex. I have to sit in a bathtub and soak away the desire while my husband is out chasing prostitutes.

I wonder what a prostitute looks like, she thought as she soaped the tips of her breasts. Do they look like a normal woman, or are they painted and sleazy. For a moment she tried to picture a professional whore, but the woman she saw in her mind was in bed with her husband, and she immediately erased the image. How can they stand to have all those men sticking their big brutal penises into them.

She shook her head in disgust at the thought of hundreds of hairy men climbing in and out of her bed. God, not my bed, not ever, she thought. Prostitutes couldn't possibly enjoy it, they just couldn't.

Pamela raised one leg and ran the lathery cloth along the trim tanned skin, nearly laughing out loud when she remembered what Jeff had said about Wade Jackson. Mr. Jackson was an outstanding member of the community, she thought, and would never resort to such a depraved thing.

"Oh damn!" she said aloud as the doorbell suddenly chimed, breaking her train of thought.

She pulled herself from the tub and reached for her robe as the bell rang again.

"I'm coming," she yelled as she half ran across the living room, tying the belt of her robe as she went.

"Oh!" she gasped as she swung open the door and stared into the face of Wade Jackson. "Why, Mr. Jackson, I was just thinking about you."

"Really," he said. "I'm flattered."

Pamela had never met Wade Jackson before, but had seen his picture often. She was impressed and pleased that he had come to her home, though she didn't particularly care for the looks of the two seedy looking men that had come with him.

"Won't you come in, please," she said, at the same time opening the door wider and gesturing for them to enter. "I hope you'll forgive the way I look. You caught me in the bath."

"No, you look fine," Wade told her, "Just fine."

"Let me get you some coffee," she said hurriedly. "It'll only take a minute."

Wade thanked her and walked to the sofa. His two companions stood by the door, their arms crossed over their chests like Roman Gladiators. Wade was holding himself back, wanting to find out just how much Jeff Lee's wife knew before he would order his bodyguards to take her into the bedroom and strip the robe from her back. He was pleased that they had entered the house so easily. Maybe she doesn't know anything, he thought, that would make it even better. It would make her more innocent, and therefore more shocked when the two men would throw her on to the bed and degrade her like a common whore with their long hard pricks. Yeah, he thought, she's really in for it.

Jeff Lee's wife brought a tray of cups with a coffee serve into the living room and set it on the table by the sofa.

"Cream or sugar?" she asked the three men.

"I take sugar," Wade replied. "But I always bring my own. You ought to try it."

His own sugar, Pamela thought as she took the packet that he handed her. She didn't want to of fend him, and so she poured the fine white granules into her coffee.

Wade watched with delight as she stirred her coffee, then brought the cup to her lips and took a long sip. She's in for it now, he thought. Women are so damn dumb, she'd probably take poison if I offered it, but this is better. She's got enough Spanish Fly in that coffee to make her fuck a whole regiment.

Pamela smiled at Wade as she sipped the hot coffee. "It's good," she told him. "It's different, but very good."

While Pamela drank, Wade asked her about a few of her society friends, all of them acquaintances of his. He wanted her to finish her drink before he told her the real purpose for his visit. By the time she finished the hot drink the Spanish Fly would already be at work.

"Put the cup down," he suddenly ordered, his voice hard and cool.

Pamela obeyed, not understanding what had suddenly made him change his manner. She tried to shake her head, not knowing what was making everything so hazy, so unreal. She suddenly felt the electric tingling returning to her thighs and looked to see if her hand had slipped between her legs. Something was wrong she thought with sudden alarm, but what?

"This is no social call," Wade said as he stood up and hooked his thumbs in his belt. "Your husband has made himself my enemy by snooping around where he doesn't belong. If he's not careful he's going to get hurt."

"But I don't understand," Pamela said weakly. "I know Jeff's got some crazy ideas, but he's all wrong. I know he's wrong."

"No Baby," he said, a sneer crawling across his face. "You're the one who's wrong, not your husband. And now he's getting too close for comfort, so we're gonna give him a little warning."

"W-what do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling with a growing fear.

"You'll find out in a minute," he told her and motioned to one of the men behind him. "You just sit tight and listen to this, then tell me what you think of your hypocritical husband."

Pamela sat hypnotized with fear as the man set a small black case on the table and opened it. What could they possibly want, she thought as the man switched a tiny knob on the portable tape recorder.

Suddenly she jerked her head as she heard Jeff's voice on the recorder. But he wasn't alone and he sounded excited, more excited than she had ever heard him.

"The girl's name is Carmen," Wade told her with an ugly grin on his face. "Your precious Jeff was with her last night, in her apartment."

Pamela trembled as she heard the grunting animal sounds that were coming from the tape recorder. This couldn't be Jeff, it just couldn't. He'd never been unfaithful to her, yet it was unmistakably his voice.

"Oooooohhhhh," the Cuban girl's voice came through the speaker. "Push it in more, Jeff. It feels so good!"

Pamela's eyes were filling with tears as she listened to her husband.

"Oh, Baby," he grunted. "My wife was never like this. Nobody can fuck like you. Nobody!"

Oh, Jeff! she cried silently to herself. How could you do it. It was her own husband in bed with a prostitute and enjoying it like an animal. She had never heard him even say "fuck" before, and now she listened as he muttered greater and greater obscenities at a strange girl in bed.

"Suck me again," Pamela suddenly heard her husband's voice command and she felt the tingling between her thighs. It was so awful, yet, somehow, it almost seemed natural. She thought that he should be saying that to her, and not some stranger. But how ugly. That other woman was actually going to put a man's penis in her mouth and suck it! But worse, not just any man's penis. It was her husband who was getting sucked and milked until his sperm would fill the girl's throat.