Anonymous: Spouse Swap

"Enough," she said weakly. "Don't hurt me any more. I've had enough."

Gabe shoved one hand against her mouth, attacked her skirt with the other. The zipper broke, the skirt fell down around her ankles. Another tug and the panties were shredded from her body, and now, except for her shoes and the broken-strapped half-bra that rode on her ribcage like a misplaced sash, she was naked and vulnerable.

Gabe rubbed the knob of his drooling dong against her pouting navel and said, "Turn around, puss."

"Gabe, no!" A waste of breath.

Gabe yanked her rump away from the picnic table and whirled her around. Empty beer cans and other litter clattered to the dirt as he draped her face down over the rough planking. He palmed and stroked her hips, pried her legs apart with his right knee, and a second later the tip of his cock gouged into the cleft between her pale buttocks. She tried to escape, and she was still trying when he locked an arm around her slender waist and said, "Game time, puss!"

Trish almost cried out as the huge tip of his slimy organ made contact with her tense anal circle, but bit her lower lip in time to smother it. A moment later she did scream as Gabe vented his sadistic spleen by ramming the entire length of his sausage into her with one brutal thrust.

"Take it out!" Trish whimpered as daggers of agony sliced at her nerve tips. "In the name of mercy, take your big prick out of my ass before you kill me! It hurts! Take it out, take it out!"

"Not a chance," Gabe croaked as he proceeded to snake his whang in and out of her asshole, hurting her with every inward thrust. "You must be punished for trying to boss me around. I don't like bossy people. I don't like bossy women. I don't like you. Do you hear me, Mother, I don't like you!"

Mother? Trish momentarily forgot her pain. Christ, a shrink would have a field day with this creep who's got his dick shoved up my ass!

Gabe cut into her thoughts. "Stop acting like a corpse and start fucking, or I'll break your pretty neck."

Do as he asks, she told herself. Tranquilize the bastard with your asshole before he goes so far out into space you 'll never be able to bring him back. Dingy or not, you still need him to help find the money. Give him what he wants. It's only an assh ole. Wha t's it worth?

Trish ignored the agony in her rectum and decided to get it over with as quickly as possible. She brought her hips to life and said with forced passion, "Here we go, lover! One trip coming up! Do your thing and turn me on, too. The pain's gone, and now I want your dick!"

Lies.

All lies.

Gabe laughed and rammed his prod all the way up her burning tail, then rasped, "How about my balls? Do you want them, too?"

"Yes, yes!" Trish panted. "Give me everything you've got! Play with my tits, stick your finger in my pussy; do anything. Just don't stop fucking my ass. Not now! Now when I'm so close to creaming! Oooh, I feel as though I'm going to blow my mind!"

"Blow away, puss," Gabe grunted. "Blow my mind, too. Draw the cum out of this bone of mine and make me cream with you! Grind, puss, grind!"

Trish responded. In more ways than one. The pain was gone, and now Gabe's sawing sausage was getting good to her. No more agony and no more faking it.

She started fucking desperately.

Earnestly.

Passionately.

Sensing the approach of climax. Racing to meet it. Wanting orgasm. Needing it.

"Fuck me, Gabe, fuck me."

"I am, I will. Wriggle, puss, wriggle."

"How does this grab you."

"Faster! Rock faster!"

Trish increased the speed of her grinding hips, and a few seconds later she was rewarded for her efforts as Gabe rammed himself home for a final time, buried his cockshaft deep into her and gushed a hot and spastic load of semen into her. The fluid tripped her own trigger, and now they moaned and shuddered their way through a simultaneous climax that left them both breathless.

"Damn," Gabe said as he withdrew his withering whang from her back hole and proceeded to clean it with a handkerchief, "that was one good fuck!"

Trish straightened, turned, smiled at him and thought, Not as good as the quick fuck I'm going to throw into you after we find the money.

"For me, too, Gabe. I came like crazy." Her voice licked at him. She wanted him all the way calm. "I wouldn't mind another cum. Would you like to fuck my fanny again?"

Gabe finished cleaning his cock and crammed it back inside his pants before he answered. "I've had it for tonight." He lifted a hand to his scratched cheek and smiled sourly. Then, as he always did after his anger dissolved, he said contritely. "Sorry I had to get rough with you, puss, but sometimes you do forget which side your bread is buttered on."

What's the difference? Trish thought acidly. eat both sides anyhow.

"It won't happen again," she said quietly. "I'm cured. I don't mind playing games with you, but not when you're teed off at me."

"I – " Gabe stopped talking as headlights appeared suddenly on the highway and bore down on them.

Trish saw them at the same time. She stiffened, blanched. She told herself that maybe the vehicle would shoot by. It didn't. The car slowed, came into the rest area, skidded to a stop. No, not a car. A Jeep. Joe Dooley.

She shot a hasty glance at Gabe and said, "Play it cool, lover." Secretly she wanted him to tangle with Dooley. "Think about the money."

Gabe ignored her and stepped out in front of the Jeep's headlights. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he growled, "I'm glad it's only you and not the county cops, Dooley. Now I won't have to hunt for your ass. I've got a bone to pick with you."

A slow smile spread across Dooley's thin, homely face. "Figured you might, Gabe. What's your problem?"

Trish sagged against the picnic table and thought, Gabe doesn't know it, but he's about to get the shit stomped out of him. Well, let it happen. I can always pick up the pieces later.

"You know my problem," Gabe said flatly. "I don't like wise guys who screw up my pickup."

Dooley was amused. "That makes us even. I don't like people who disable my Jeep."

Gabe stopped in the middle of the ragged circle of light, and now slyness edged his voice as he locked glances with the unemployed hunting guide and asked, "What else don't you like, hillbilly?"

Dooley exhaled loudly. "To grind an old saw, if the shoe fits, stick it up your ass."

Trish winced. This was it. The shit was about to hit the funky old fan.

Gabe exploded suddenly, but Dooley was ready for him. He brushed the punch aside and pistoned one of his own to the sadist's jaw. Gabe dropped to his knees like a religious fanatic anxious to face Mecca. Dooley didn't give him the opportunity to clear the cobwebs from his brain. He fisted Gabe's hair, jerked him erect and belted him across the chops with the back of his hand. He backhanded Gabe four times in rapid succession. Then he shoved him away and kneed him in the groin, the same way Trish had done earlier. Gabe sagged to the dirt and lay there, doubled up like a fetus, holding his injured balls.

There, you bastard, Trish thought smugly as she grabbed the empty Canada Dry bottle from the picnic table and waited for the chance to cop a sneak on Joe Dooley. Now you know how it feels to be on the hurting end for a change.

Dooley waited until Gabe stopped grinding his molars before he kicked him in the rump and said, "Some bone-picker you turned out to be! You might be good when it comes to muscling women and cripples, but you aren't worth a fiddler's fuck when you come up against someone who fights back." He grabbed Gabe by the back collar of his jacket, tugged him erect, pushed him away. "Hit the road, prick. I'm sick of looking at you."

Gabe continued to hold his aching balls as he snarled, "This isn't the end of it, Dooley. We'll tangle assholes again."