Dana Swanson - Blackmailed Into Swapping

Mavis watched Glover step back, study the curvy woman. She was nothing more than well-molded clay to be mauled by his long-fingered hands and poked and prodded by his great tool.

Then he leaned over Terry and wormed a hand inside her blouse, inside the full bra cup and Mavis could see him squeezing almost brutally.

Terry groaned and twisted slightly, but didn't emerge from her alcoholic stupor. She, indeed, was helpless to avoid the cruel, sexual assault that she was destined to receive. And Mavis, suddenly, nearly called out to Glover to FUCK HER!

Glover fumbled in his right front pants pocket and Mavis felt a rising torrent of terror as he withdrew a knife and opened it. The blade wasn't long, but it glittered evilly in the pale light. He's going to mutilate her! Mavis almost screamed. Maybe he win cut off her nipples!

She watched the tall, gaunt man test the edge of the blade with the flat of a thumb. She could hear him humming softly. Quickly, he cut off all the buttons on Terry's blouse. Then he sliced along the shoulder seams, then the side seams and tossed away the two front halves of the thin garment. With a deft flick of the blade, he cut the shoulder straps of her brassiere. Deftly, he cut the bra, starting under each arm-pit and threw the cups aside. He paused a moment to tweak each nipple until they expanded into ripe, pointy spires.

Glover worked the blade under the waistband of Terry's skirt, near the navel, and gently sawed it downward, severing the bottom hem. With his left hand, he folded the skirt flaps aside. The frail slip was cut slickly by the sharp knife and only Terry's panties remained to cover her unconscious nudity. Glover cut down each side, from the waistband to the leg hems, and removed the triangle of silk to reveal Terry's hair-adorned pussy. She was naked, lying there in the ruins of her clothes.

Now he will plunder her, Mavis thought, fuck out his pleasure in her with his oversize prick.

Mavis was aware of an overpowering need of a drink. Slowly, so that she didn't get Glover's attention, she crawled toward the den. As she stood up at the archway, she heard the front door open and close. Maybe Glover was going to abandon Terry-and Mavis was aware of keen disappointment. She had wanted to watch him sexually abuse the little cunt!

She glared at Hank and Willie-both had gotten their guts full of booze and were sleeping, heads and arms sprawled on the poker table. Willie was snoring like an animal. Hank had spilled his whiskey and his face was resting in the soggy puddle in the tightly stretched blanket on the table.

At the bar, Mavis removed the lid from the ice bucket and filled a fresh glass with ice cubes and bourbon. Quickly, she darted back to the living room and again squatted in the shadows behind the chair.

Just in timer Glover reentered the house, carrying a piece of wood resembling a large broomstick about four feet long. There were two leather loops attached to it near the ends. What on earth, Mavis puzzled.

But Mavis didn't have to wait long for an explanation. Almost roughly, Glover seized Terry's limp left wrist and dragged her onto the floor.

He grabbed an ankle and pulled her to the center of the room. With a foot, he pushed her legs out straight, kicked her feet far apart. Then he dropped to his knees and lifted her left leg, pushed the wooden pole under it, lifted the right leg and worked it under, just behind the knees.

Glover knelt between Terry's legs and grasped the pole in the middle with his left hand. He levered upward, drawing Terry's legs parted thighs toward her face. With his right hand, he took Terry's left wrist and worked her hand through a leather loop which wrapped across her thigh from the inside. Then he slipped the loop over the end of the pole. Quickly, he repeated the maneuver with her right wrist.

Terry was wadded up, arms lashed to her knees. The cheeks of her rear glistened dully in the pale light. With thighs splayed far apart, her pussy was fully exposed, a ready, unprotected target for a man's sex spear.

Mavis shuddered silently as Glover stood and chuckled obscenely. His simple little sex-torture rack. Terry was mumbling, "No, no, no.

Please? Nooooo."

"Yeeeeeessssss, cunt!" Glover hissed, removing his pants and shorts.

His back was to Mavis and she couldn't resist the tremblings of anticipation, wanting to look at his front nakedness. She yearned to see his bunch of tools.

Mavis stared at Glover's back, felt a little ill. The pulpy halves of his rump seemed to sag with the flaccidness of middle age. Even the flesh of his back seemed to hang in wrinkles and his legs were spiderwebbed with varicose veins.

But, then, Glover tensed. The veins remained in his legs, but the sagging flesh firmed and his lean ass was rounded and taut. He turnedand a hand went involuntarily to Mavis' wide open mouth. He was, truly, immense, His blunt-headed penis sagged at a ninety-five-degree angle from the base at his hairy crotch. His scrotum, full of big balls, resembled a huge conifer cone.

Mavis had thought the blood veins in the tall, scrawny man's calves were pronounced-but his pulsating prod was heavily ridged with purplish blood vessels. And the stubbed-off battering ram was syrupy to the point of being disgustingly snotty.

Oh, God! She would never want that obscene tool drilling and ramming into her pussy!

And he was going to bludgeon that log into Terry's dainty, tight little hole! Oooooohhhh, Mavis sighed silently, staring at that huge, long hunk of hard flesh.

Terry was mumbling and groaning, her head twisting from side to side.

Perhaps, Mavis thought, being bound up like that-knees up high and flung wide, wrists lashed to them by Glover's sex bar, she was being roused because of the awkward position and discomfort.

Mavis sipped at her whiskey as she watched Glover run the big toe of his right foot up and down the flattened crack of Terry's ass, digging it at the stretched butt hole. Then-Mavis felt a little like wretching-Glover used his toe to spread Terry's outer pussy lips and ran it up and down the reddish, slicky inner petal folds. Don't fuck her with your foot, Mavis frowned. Use your big dick.

But Glover was jacking off slowly with both hands as he knelt between Terry's pinioned legs. He shuffled forward, still beating his meat, working his fingers around to grease his shaft with his own clear sex juice.

He continued masturbating with one hand as he grasped the bar in the center with his left hand. Mavis was aware of a fire kindling in her own vaginal channel, fascinated by Terry's slicked gash and Glover's massive spear.

Glover rocked Terry back and forth on her shoulders by pushing the bar toward her face and pulling it back toward him She was just a fucking machine, harnessed up like that, Mavis thought.

Terry's entire body quivered and convulsed as Glover bent the blunt head of his cock into her soupy vulva and swabbed it up and down, around and around. He shuffled forward on his bony knees and asshunched the big knob into her tiny vagina.

"Aaaaagggghhhhh!" Terry whimpered, just barely beyond the edge of complete drunkenness. Glover would sober her up, Mavis thought. He pushed his knees within a couple of inches of her upturned fanny. He pulled the bar toward him, rolling her ass toward him-and gorging her snatch with about four inches of hard male meat.

"Eeeeeeeiiiiiiii," Terry whimpered softly as Glover's prick stretched the inner walls of her vagina.

Wheeeee! Mavis clenched her thighs against her own snatch and wiggled the nearly forgotten cigar around in her swat.

Now, Glover had both hands on the bar and was slowly pushing Terry's body away from him until only the big knob was in her, then pulling her toward him. Each time he worked another inch of his monstrous dong into her. When his balls rolled high in their sac, Mavis could see Terry's stretched pussy ring and her quivering anus.