Bob Wallace - Hot willing housewife

"Yessss," she hissed, wanting her body debased completely. "Cream me, fucker! Cum!" She was insane, a mixture of passion, hate, and a desire to punish herself.

"You too, blondie," he grunted between whacking jabs with his cock. "You… too!"

She lifted her head, twisted it. Blue eyes fixed on her rapist. "Bastard! Bastard!" Her eyes floated into her skull.

"I'm cuming! Christ!" Sobbing screams filled the alley as her body became immersed in orgasmic pleasure.

Hank burrowed his thick throbbing cock in her ass at blinding speed. Her violent contortions and ass muscles massaging his prick sent him over the top with her. "Me… too! Aghhhh!"

Hot cum gushed from his prick and flooded Jessica's asshole. His balls, churned it out as fast as his prick spurted it into her jerking, climaxing body.

Jessica felt the fiery cum burn a path up into her ass canal. It was heaven and hell at the same time and she wallowed in it. Her cunt, empty, pulsing, gushed out hot cream to grease her unused pussyhole.

Hank smashed her writhing body repeatedly into the car. His nuts swelled, hot white cum squirting up her ass. It oozed noisily out with each plunge, dribbled down his swinging balls. She was the best piece he had ever had.

Jessica churned. Hot blasting orgasms ripped through her. Gushing cum flowed front, her empty cunthole, down her thighs.

Her eyes focused on the alley. It was a nightmare, a nightmare of exotic pleasure. Her fists pounded the top of her car. She twisted, rubbed her tits into the smooth surface. Nipples burned. Her cunt was raw, throbbing, gorged with blood.

"Blondie!" He lunged forward, her knees hit metal. "Blondie!" His speed began to decrease.

Jessica too was reaching the end of her orgasm. As pleasure receded, remorse took its place. She twitched, finally spent, totally ashamed. She lay there, a receptacle for his cum, and waited until he was finished.

Hank grunted to a halt. He held his shrinking cock inside her asshole for as long as possible. "Whatta fuck!"

He finally popped his cock out, a drop of cum clinging to his pisser. He wiped it on the check of her ass then fucked his cock back in his pants. Then he gave Jessica a playful pat on her ass.

With his balls empty, he had no time for her. He only wanted to get out of the alley and back to the bar. He still had a beer waiting. "See ya."

With Hank gone, Jessica cried as she tried to keep her shorts around her waist. She climbed into her car and drove home.

Sniffling back tears, Jessica pulled into the driveway. She tried to cover herself as best she could with her torn clothes. "Oh God, Roger's home!" Panic seized her. She didn't want him to see her like this!

Holding her shorts about her waist, an arm across her heaving tits, she trudged the steps to the front door. She prayed she could get by Roger and into the shower before he discovered she was home.

She entered the house, sneaked by the living room, and quietly made her way down the hall to the bathroom.

"Is that you?" Roger called dully, his head pounding wildly.

Jessica didn't answer. She tip-toed into the bathroom and closed and locked the door.

Holding his forehead, Roger got out of bed to check. He heard the shower running. He tried the knob. The bathroom door was locked.

"Jessica!" he shouted, then winced. The constant drumming inside his brain reminded him not to shout. "Jessica, I know you're in there," he said softly. Still, no response.

In the shower, Jessica ignored him. She tried to rinse away the smell of the rapist. She felt contaminated.

Roger pounded the door, getting madder and madder.

Jessica shut the loud pounding from her mind. She grabbed the soap and lathered her body. Possessed with an overwhelming desire to be clean, she began to wash her cunt and ass. She couldn't get enough soap on her. Each abused hole never seemed to stop oozing the filthy cum.

Roger, running out of patience, stepped back and lunged at the door. The inexpensive lock snapped and the door went crashing open.

Roger grabbed the shower curtain and tore it off the rod. His face was livid with rage. "Why didn't you answer me?"

A stunned Jessica stared back at him, blinking away the spraying water and tears. "Leave me alone."

Roger spotted a mark on her face. "What's that?" he demanded. "Who hit you!"

"No one," she said flatly.

"Was it the mechanic?" he sneered. He stared at her wet body under the spraying water.

Jessica's face registered surprise. "What mechanic?" she said, recovering slightly. She didn't want to talk yet. She was too distraught to discuss anything intelligently. "You must be crazy."

"I'm not crazy," he shouted, forgetting about the pounding hammer in his head. "I was there! I saw you! Whore!"

Each word burned into her brain. She brought herself under control, tried to gather her jumble thoughts into a reasonable order. "So what?" It was all she could say. The rape had her dazed, unthinking.

Roger's fists balled, his fingertips digging into the palms of his hand. "You tramp!"

"You're great at calling people names. What name do you go by?"

Her breath was rushing out in quick pockets. Water beat constantly against her body. She wiped it from her eyes, pushed her wet hair from her face.

She threw the wash cloth in his face. "You're a no good fuckin' bastard. Vow like that name?"

He yanked the wash cloth from his face and tossed it to the floor.

"Why! Why!" Roger's mind reeled.

"You know why?" she shouted back. "You've been cheating on me for God knows how long, and now you're not man enough to admit it."

"You're wrong," he screamed over the spraying sounds of the shower.

Jessica laughed. "I'm not a fool."

"I know that. You're whore!" He grabbed her wrist.

She shook herself loose from his grasp. "If getting fucked while my husband's cheating on me… then I guess that's what I am!"

Roger was steaming. He knew she was right, but there was no way in hell that he was going to admit it.

She saw on his face that he knew she was right. "Who is she… do I know her… is she better than me?"

Roger winced under her battery of questions. "What about you?" he shouted, trying to turn the tables. "How long have you been fucking around? How many men have you been to bed with?"

Roger pulled her forcefully out of the shower, dragged her into the bedroom, threw her on the bed. "Answer me!"

"Does it made any difference?" she sobbed. He stared down at her beautiful body, glistening with beads of water. "Tell me!"

Jealousy warped his mind. As he stared at his wife, all he could see was her flaunting herself for the mechanic, giving him her body to use and enjoy. He saw red.

"Beat it out of me," she cried in defiance. He wanted to, but held his rage partially in check.

Breathing hard, Jessica looked up at him. She wanted to hurt him, hurt him bad. If he had been more loving, she would never have been raped. "I've been fucking anyone I could, all day," she tormented. She leaned back on the bed and spread her legs. "It was great."

Roger grabbed an ankle and twisted it. "Slut!"

"How many more names do you have for me?" Her voice caught in her throat. "I got a few of my own. Fool, for trusting you. Stupid, for believing in you." She stared through narrow slits. "I took two at the same time."

Roger exploded. He pounced on the bed. Grabbing her, he dragged her to him and rolled her over. He stared at her ass. Then without thinking, began beating her with his open palm.

Loud whacking slaps echoed in the room. Her ass flesh jiggled and turned red as his hand walloped her over and over again.

She screamed, twisting on his lap. The pain was terrible.

Roger stopped almost immediately.