"Just take it easy. Relax," Bret told her, pulling his cock half-way out, slowly and steadily. Then, he hammered his dick again, working up a regular beating rhythm as he began to pound into the woman's ass, harder and harder. At the same time he reached around and thrust three fingers up into her mushy come-dripping snatch.
Norma Jean sighed with pleasure, her pain fading as Bret fingered her pussy, exciting her incredibly as he worked his huge unwieldy tool in and out of her ass. It was so tight, so incredibly hot, that he thought everything was going along perfectly.
But he was in for a surprise. And not a very pleasant one at that.
Suddenly, the door to the back room opened and the squat burly chef stood on the threshold. He closed the door behind him and stepped inside. Bret heard footsteps and glanced over his shoulder, not so much embarrassed as fucking annoyed.
"Get the fuck out of here!" he told the guy. "Can't you see we're still busy?"
"Sure I see," the cook told him, standing with a toothpick between his lips, grinning wickedly. "Man, I ain't ever seen Norma Jean here gettin' fucked and plowed into like that. Shit, you just managed to stuff your cock all the way into that girl's nice little ass. You should be ashamed of yourself, mister."
As for Norma Jean, she said nothing.
She held onto Bret as he stopped stroking, waiting for the chef to leave them in peace. But the man only edged closer and Bret grew vaguely apprehensive, wondering what the guy intended to do. And when he took a closer look at him, he just didn't know what to expect. For he saw that something was tenting up the man's greasy white apron, something which moved from side to side in front of his crotch, something that looked definitely alive.
He's some kind of pervert, some kind of fucking voyeuristic bastard, Bret thought to himself, wondering if the chef was the kind of guy who liked to sit back and watch. He'd heard about people like that, although he'd never personally come across them.
"He's just fuckin' raped me, Lou," Norma Jean spoke up. "He just pulled my legs apart and raped the shit out of me while I wasn't even lookin'."
"What kind of shit is that!" Bret yelled out, trying to pull away from her. "What are you fucking talking about, telling lies like that?"
But he couldn't get up. Lou threw him down and his cock, still hard, sank down into Norma Jean's ass. "Where you think you're going?" the chef asked, taking off his apron. "We're not finished with you, buster."
And saying this, he unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it right off and exposing his naked chest. He was, Bret saw, unbelievably muscled, powerful as a wrestler. He was suddenly scared shitless and his cock was fast going limp as he tried to get up again.
But Lou's foot shot out, kicking Bret in the side. "I said not to move, feller," the burly powerful man went on, unbuckling his pants.
Bret didn't know what to do or what Lou was going to do, for that matter. He had visions that the man intended to whip him or do something else, something equally as freaky, equally as perverse. But when Lou stepped out his trousers and his baggy white jockey shorts, Bret nearly had a fucking heart attack, almost a seizure.
The guy had the cock of a mule.
Bret saw this long thick penis the size of a salami. It was dark pink in color and as big around as his arm. He stared at it incredulously, his face filled with disbelief, not seeing how such a cock could possibly be real.
"You see this here piece of meat," the chef said, waving his dick in the air. "Well, mister, I'm gonna use it just the same way you're using yours on Norma Jean over here."
Bret still looked dumbly at the chef, not knowing what he was talking about. He thought the guy meant for him to get up and let him get in his place. That was fine with Bret, but when he told the chef that, the man only laughed, pushing him down and ordering him to continue fucking Norma Jean.
"He's a mean fucker when he gets angry," the waitress whispered to him. "You'd better do what he says, mister."
So Bret reluctantly turned to the woman and closed his eyes, trying to believe that it was all a joke, a sick and sadistic kind of game. He began to move in and out of Norma Jean's ass and the friction, the pressure and the heat all built up, combining to get him going again.
Despite his fears, he was still hard, still physically excited and aroused. Pretty soon he was ramming into her with the same speed and agility as before. His eyes were slammed shut and he was concentrating on the pleasure when he felt someone's hands spreading apart the hairy muscular checks of his ass.
At first, Bret thought it was the waitress.
He fingered her snatch quickly, hoping to bring her off, rather turned on to the fact that she'd play with his prostate, tickling and massaging it just as Lois had done for him that morning. He didn't mind a well-greased finger up his ass, providing that was all there was to it.
But the chef, although Bret still didn't realize it, had other ideas about pleasure and sexuality.
As he worked his cock in and out of Norma Jean's bottom, Bret felt the fingers on his ass. They were strong and insistent, too strong to belong to a woman and suddenly there was something shoving down against his asshole. He opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder with frantic speed, his mouth opening in fear.
But it was too late.
Bret saw the chef, Lou, squatting behind him, lodging his huge mule-sized cock right between the round white globes of his bottom. "No, please no, no!" he screamed out, begging the man to stop.
Once again, Bret was seconds too late.
Laughing like a maniac, the man shoved forward and a scream caught in Bret's throat as he felt a huge fist-like thing bearing down on his rectum, ripping apart the skin around his anus and shoving itself down into his guts. He nearly blacked out from the pain and as he kept his cock in place inside of Norma Jean's ass, Lou maneuvered his huge column of cockmeat until it was sliding inside Bret's hole, stretching and ripping the skin as it tunneled its way inside of him, going down without moment's pause.
"Man, shit it feels so nice, almost as good as a pussy," Lou boasted, shoving hard until the last enormous inch of his super-sized dick was buried up inside Bret's rectum.
He couldn't take the pain and as he began to feel the man pistoning in and out of his hole, his heavy weight against his back, Bret fainted dead away. When he came to, minutes later, Lou was still at it.
Norma Jean was humping up towards him, clenching and unclenching her sphincter muscles in an effort to get him excited once again. But Bret couldn't stop feeling the pain, no matter how hard he tried to relax, to forget the nightmare that was closing in around him, happening as it always did in what he thought were only Grade-B movies.
It was only when he sensed that Lou was unwittingly massaging and tickling his prostate as the skin of his huge cock-shaft moved along his rectal walls, that Bret relaxed and some of the pain and discomfort lessened. But he was now incredibly angry, rage taking the place of physical disgust and torment.
Ready to kill her for what she had done, for what she had purposely allowed to happen, Bret swore to himself that he would fuck Norma Jean so she would never forget it. He began to plow into her ass with renewed energy, with a vigor and violence such as he had never felt himself capable of.
Harder and faster he rammed his pistoning cock into the very end of her bowels and her moans of pleasure were mixed with fear and rising pain as Bret hammered away, hoping that Norma Jean was suffering just as much as he was.
For Lou didn't stop.
He was a huge burly man, heavy and sexually insatiable. He crammed his tool into Bret's ass like a demon, shoving it in so fast and furiously that Bret's ass was on fire, burning and stinging as the man kept moaning, breathing down his neck. "So nice and tight, feller," he moaned, pressing his thickset thighs around Bret's legs and holding him in place as he bore down with all of his weight.