Grant Roberts: The Reluctant Swappers

"There, Ron… right there."

He lunged forward as he drove into her widespread pussy and felt the hot, rubbery passage clasp tightly around his thickened shaft and absorb his naked surge like a hungry lion. The warmly clasping sensation along the length of his pulsating cock drove all thoughts from his mind except to lose his pent-up seed into the depths of her tight little cunt. It was warm and tight in there, as though he had been the first to enter that fevered domain, and the fluids helped her take him easily, wetting and lubricating his path. He thrust lustily until his blood swollen head hit her cervix and simultaneously his sperm bloated testicles crashed resoundingly against the firm, muscle taut cheeks of her ass. He moved harder, flexing his long hard penis as she moaned, embedded beneath his driving cudgel. He ground his pelvis into her savagely, feeling the pliant warm flesh beneath as she strained upward to meet his pounding jerks, until her nakedly writhing loins were inches off the bed. His alcohol-fuzzed mind began to play tricks on him, and he thought he sensed a pulling back on Sharon's part, a vague hesitation that made him force his loins down on her with even greater violence. He angled his hips and drove into her brutally, trying to establish a rhythm.

"Ohhhh, darling, wait…" Sharon called to him, surprised by the force of his attack, "You're hurting me, please…"

But Ron didn't hear her. Instead he renewed his vicious onslaught with even greater violence, almost lifting his surprised wife off the bed with each pounding stroke. The delicate tingle of desire deep in Sharon's timidly aroused cunt began to fade, rubbed quickly raw by the sudden pile driving strokes of her seemingly transformed husband. Her eyes grew wide in disbelief, and then in pain as she watched him pound into her, not looking at her, his eyes almost glassy, hiding behind half-closed lids. This was a side of her husband she had never seen before, and it frightened her beyond measure.

"Ron, please, stop! It's no good, you're hurting me! Oh God! Please…"

But her pleas only served to increase the tempo of his brutally rampaging rhythm. His wildly throbbing shaft continued to surge like a wild beast until he was sure it was going to split down the seam, and the intoxicating pressure in his sperm bloated balls was enough to send him screaming. Jesus, surely he was going to reach his orgasm soon, for he couldn't hold back much longer! He increased his speed and stroke, drubbing into her savagely as his impatiently churning balls whacked against her upturned, defenseless thighs. His mind was blank, and through his intoxication he was aware only of what he thought were the squirming attempts of the woman under him to evade his powerful thrusts, to rob him of the imminent explosion that was building in his painfully throbbing loins. Each of her attempts to ease the pain of this crazed pounding was met with renewed force, and his hands were now gripping viselike into her frantically quivering buttocks, his body pressing her down cruelly onto the bed.

All vestiges of desire had left his cruelly buffeted young wife. Sharon lay unmoving, at first confused and then aghast at what she considered the almost Jekyll and Hyde transformation that had come over her loving young husband. Besides the searing pain his maddened thrusts were sending through her loins, a throbbing fear began to play itself through her mind. It was almost as if he were punishing her, but for what? What had she done to be treated so impersonally, like… like a common whore off the streets? Her brain reeled before this humiliation, and tears began to fill her eyes, even as she submitted to the animalistic, unconscious rutting of her husband.

"God… darling!… What's the matter? Please, stop!"

But Ron felt nothing except the mounting sensations of fiery release in his madly fucking penis as it rammed into his wife's helplessly splayed vagina. His brain was empty except for the need to rid his body of the incredible tightness that was threatening to tear him apart inside.

Finally he could no longer even feel his hard slamming cock as a separate part of his body, but was only aware of the lustful tension that was straining his taut muscles to the breaking point, driving him wild with the desire to empty himself into the shuddering, unwilling cunt that sucked his painfully full cock deep up into its fiery depths.

He slammed on, unaware of the cries of pain that were coming from his wife's tortured lips, not heeding her useless pleadings in his ears. He felt his long hardened shaft on fire as he rubbed too fast, too hard into the tightly clenched opening between his wife's futilely resisting legs. He raised himself up on his elbows to gain even more leverage, and lifted Sharon's loins up against his own in mindless, brutal assault, straining his back muscles in an attempt to shove his thick invading cudgel into the farthest reaches of her small, elastic cuntal mouth.

"I'm cumming… I'm cumming," he began to chant insanely, tossing his head violently from side to side in rhythm to the merciless beating he was inflicting on the beautiful woman beneath him. "I'm cumming… I'm cumming," his voice was strained and inhuman, his eyes clasped tight, his brain filled only with me insatiable demands of his impending climax.

And then it came, an almost paralytic tensing of his already straining muscles, a spasmodic jerking of his aching loins, and two, four, seven more powerfully punishing thrusts up into the softly waiting receptacle around his heavy raw cock, a deafness to his wife's cries of pain…

"OOOHH… GGGOOODD… I'm… AAAA…"

Ron almost doubled up with the incredible violence of his release and squeezed his wife's slender frame tight up against his wildly jerking cock as it spewed its full load of scalding white sperm up from the depths of his tortured balls, and sent it coursing through his spasming penis into the cavernous darkness of her hotly. shuddering vagina. He raised his knees up under her buttocks as his climax roared on, lifting her like a warm living doll off the bed, and then pressing down on her again as the violent jerking in his body slowed, only to return with renewed force as his spine felt unimaginable chills moving along them for what seemed an eternity. His emptying balls ached with painful persistency, and he was conscious only of the feeling that he had been sucked completely dry, had nothing more to give, and yet was being sucked even deeper. Gradually, the trembling in his body stilled, and his mind returned from the fireworks world of unconsciousness, where it had been blasted into mindlessness by the brilliance of his all consuming passion, and he rolled off Sharon's nakedly limp body and felt the cool air rush over his sweat streaked body.

At first he simply stared at the ceiling, trying to get his bearings, trying to sort out what had happened to him, but he couldn't, so he lay back and closed his eyes. Gradually the outside world began to force its way into his fogged mind, and he suddenly shuddered with the realization of what he'd done. Oh God, he must have been out of his mind! He must have been drunk! Jesus! He had raped his own wife. And she had been screaming for him to stop!

"God… Sharon… I'm sorry. I don't know what…"

But she wasn't there. Ron turned on the bed to find her gone, and sat bolt upright, guilt twisting his insides in a merciless self-flagellation. What had he done?

He jumped up from the bed, tripped over the sheets that had been tossed wildly onto the floor by the ferocity of his love-making, and made his way to the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom. He tried the door, found that it was locked, and then stood with his head leaning on the door in utter self-recrimination.

"Sharon?"

There was no answer, but from the other side of the door he could hear the muffled sobbing of his humiliated young wife.