Don Scott: The doctor_s horny wife

The patrolman moved Christina to the back of the car and pushed her over so her tits flattened against the trunk. Then, as she pressed her cheek against the cold metal and prepared for the worst, she felt the muzzle of a police revolver touch her temple and heard the hammer click softly as it was thumbed back.

"Not a word," the patrolman said softly. "Not one fucking sound. Got it?"

"Y-yes."

"Okay, babydoll, here we go then," the patrolman said with a chuckle, rubbing the spit-slick head of his cock against Christina's puckered asshole, still keeping his cold gun against his victim's head.

He pushed, and her virgin asshole resisted his prick's entry. The cop pushed harder, hearing a quiet, painful groan coming from Christina. He liked that. She had hurt him, and now he was going to hurt her.

"You'll kill me if you fuck me in the ass," Christina said through gritted teeth.

"Too fucking bad!"

The cop reared back and stabbed at her asshole again. This time the tight ring of muscle gave way to his hardened cockflesh, and the fat head of his cock burst into Christina's asshole, making her pull her head up and twitch all over. The pain in her ass shot all through her body, just the same way the pleasure waves coming from her clit had gone clean through her body. But there was a difference between the two feelings – one was pleasure and one was pain. It was a hell of a difference.

"You're killing meeee!" Christina sobbed, fearing that her ass was, quite literally, being split in two. Her knees went weak but, being flopped over the trunk of the squad car as she was, Christina wasn't even able to fall to the ground.

The patrolman watched his prick drive between the milky orbs of his captive's ass, saw how her asshole expanded to take his prick. He watched her tiny hands, cuffed at the wrist, open and close, open and close in response to the pain she was feeling in her ass. He pulled back, saw the ridge of his cockhead escape her ass, then plowed his prickshaft forcefully into her again. His hands pried her asscheeks farther apart so he could see better the destruction his cock was doing.

Damn, how he loved fucking virgin assholes! It made him feel so powerful – all powerful.

Christina's eyes fluttered, and she was only partially conscious as the patrolman fucked her ass. She wished that she could pass out and be completely unaware of the awful pounding prick that invaded her ass and sent shock waves of agony through her body. Her asshole was being violated by a huge, angry cock. She could feel his big prick even in her fuzzy, half-conscious state.

"Ahhhh! Fucking bitch!" the patrolman screamed as his cum flooded Christina's asshole. He thrust into her ass again as his thick fuck-cream spewed from his balls directly up her ass. He continued to scream his contempt for her.

When the patrolman's jism had been spent in Christina's asshole, he unlocked the handcuffs and let her slide to the ground near the tire of his squad car. He checked to make sure that he wouldn't run over her when he and Pete drove away, then looked for his partner.

"Are you about ready now?" Pete asked, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"Quite ready."

"Then let's get the fuck out of here." Pete paused a moment to look at the woman on the ground. She had fallen on her side, her hands still behind her back with the blouse and bra bunched loosely at her wrists. Her skirt was still pulled up around her waist with her dark haired cunt exposed. Pete could see a small amount of his cum – thick white blobs amidst her dark pussy hair – and a strange smirk curled his lips. He looked at her heavenly tits, massive in size and incredible in their firmness. On her side, Christina's tits rested one on top of the other, the nipples soft now in the centers of the darker areolas.

"Sorry," Pete said softy, then got in the car and ordered the patrolman to drive the fuck away before anyone saw them.

It felt good. Great, actually. Great to be back in her own shower with hot water washing away all her cares. Christina had been a wreck on the flight back to her home town. But now she had the afternoon off, and she was going to totally enjoy herself and not do one fucking thing constructive.

As she soaped her fat tits, noticing with indifference that her nipples had gotten hard, Christina tried to recall all the strange things that had happened in Boston. Yes, it all came back to her, and she felt a twinge of pain in her ass.

The pain was psychosomatic and acted as a reminder of that vicious patrolman and how he brutally raped her ass. But through it all she had some fond memories. Memories of the way she came when the older cop was fucking her, and she was trapped, knees pushed against her upper body, hands secured behind her back – completely vulnerable. There was something special about the incident. Something dangerous, devilish and terribly erotic.

What was it that made her remember the scene with horror and fondness? Was it the handcuffs? Was that it? Or was it the exhibitionism of it all? The possibility of getting caught? Christina thought of the special thrill she felt as she sucked Bob's cock in Boston Commons, knowing at any minute that someone could walk up and catch them.

What was it that thrilled her so much? She started to finger her tit absently, just because she thought about the evening in Boston.

Christina started working the New York flights, but she wasn't in the mood for fucking around, so she stayed with stewardesses from other airlines and made a point of telling any man who got near that she was quite happily married and not in the least bit interested in anyone else.

But a week later, the juices in Christina started flowing again, those lusty juices that started at her cunt and seeped into her mind until she stared at the crotch of any good looking man around. Will had been particularly busy at the hospital – or so he said – and Christina really didn't see much of him. And that, she decided, was okay for now. She wasn't ready to spill the beans about watching Betty suck his cock yet. Not just yet.

Christina didn't have to work on that Wednesday afternoon and she was happy about it. She grabbed her swim suit – a blue bikini made of thin material that barely covered her huge tits and pleasantly rounded ass – sunglasses, towel and tanning lotion. She would spend the day at the beach. She knew of a spot where, secluded from the main public beach, she could walk down a narrow trail through the trees and be by herself.

Christina parked the car, pausing for a moment to look at the crowded beach. There were fifty or so kids running in the sand, playing to their heart's content. And the parents, most of them on towels with coolers nearby, watched with disinterest.

She grabbed her towel in which her bikini and lotion were secured, then headed for her special spot where she often went to tan. As a child, she had gone there often, skinny dipping with her girlfriends and talking about growing up, and what it would be like. The Prince Charmings of their dreams most assuredly had changed drastically since those days, and that brought a slight smile to the stewardess' lips.

Prince Charming. Christina figured the handsome and romantic figure of yesteryear would probably be a fag in the Eighties. Somewhere along the line, Christina had grudgingly changed from an idealist to a realist. She wasn't particularly happy about that.

Christina was pleased to find that in her little clearing, where the grass had been trampled down by young couples necking, there was nobody to disturb her peace and quiet. On the lake, there were several boats speeding by with skiers behind them, and she wondered if they could see her. Probably not, she decided, and with that, she grabbed the bottom of her light pull-over shirt and brought it over her head, next her bra came off, and she stood there for a moment, watching the boats and feeling the sun warm her tits. Finally kicking off her shoes and wiggling out of her fashionably tight jeans, Christina once again stood facing the lake, completely exposed to anyone who might be lucky enough to look in her direction.