"It's gonna hurt," he leeringly promised me.
"It better," I shot back, too far in now to back out.
"Okay, then, lift your legs straight up in the air and spread your cheeks," Roy got efficiently down to business now that I had burned my last bridge behind me in my attempt to save face.
Rocking back on my shoulders and neck, I did as he said. Practically in a head-stand, I parted my legs until the thighs ached. When I seized my buns and pried them open, my exposed asshole seemed to unzipper.
Looking through the exaggerated V of my legs, I had a perfect view of Roy's assault on my second fuck-hole. It was scary imagining the taking of his full ten inches up my narrow shit-pit.
But even though I was frightened, my actions continued to be heedless of my safety and dignity. It was degrading, but I just couldn't turn off the switch.
So, like an alien to my own ears, that's me huskily sighing, "Hurry up and fuck me in the ass, Roy. Fill my tight asshole with your big, strong cock."
His prick was as hard again as it had been prior to coming in my pussy. The prospect of getting a little chocolate cock had endowed the 35-year-old police lieutenant with the recuperative powers of the teenage punks he claimed were responsible for half the crime in the city.
He grunted like he was about to take a plunge into icy water, and then made his move. His thrusting hard-on was abruptly blotted out by the fringe of my pubic hair as it moved on target.
I gasped with pain as the barbed head of Roy's prick stabbed into the center of my anus and achieved an inch of penetration. I didn't need to see what was happening when I could feel it this acutely.
Besides, what my eyes didn't provide, my runaway imagination had started to supply. As Roy steadily worked his huge cock up my asshole, my mind became uncontrollably engorged with the act's mirror image.
Those were my inflamed anal ridges I was watching being roughly pulled back and forth so Roy could wriggle more and more of his brutal dick inside my tenderest hole. Without any special lubrication, the friction of his cock fucking my sass seemed to produce sparks.
There was no need for me to say anything further. I'd lured him inside my butt, and now that he had his prick in, he would stop for nothing. He was going to fuck me all ten inches in the ass, and then come like a river in my bowels.
When I felt the first drop of his cum in my colon, I'd have to remember to moan so he'd think I was, having an orgasm. I'd never get him off my back unless I satisfied his male pride by pretending that he had made me come. Then I could get him out of here, at last, and work on my problem by myself.
However, as Roy penetrated deeper and deeper, I started to lose all my confidence. I became convinced that I couldn't successfully fake a climax and my secret would be out.
God, if only I could come, I lacerated myself.
Then, instinctively dropping my hand to my pussy, I realized that I could. It would just be masturbating, but Roy was so busy plowing a furrow up my ass that he would never notice I was playing with my cunt.
Although inch after inch of his cock buggered into me, I managed to shut Roy out of my consciousness and concentrate on my pussy. With two fingers squeezing my clitoris, I began the ascent of the orgasmic ladder the only way I knew how.
I didn't even feel it by the time Roy had penetrated to the hilt. His balls squashing against my cheeks were the only way I had of knowing. By then, the good feelings pouring from my fingered cunt had made me all but oblivious to the bar of iron up my ass.
The brutal images of cornholing had been replaced in my consciousness by my slender fingers expertly giving my aching pussy what it wanted. My cunt glistened like a diamond as it triggered the flowing mechanisms within the interior.
Then came the spasms the expansions and contractions and I knew I was on the right road at last. I was going to come!
"Oooooooh, it feels so goooooood," I moaningly congratulated myself. The uninformed Roy, of course, thought I was complimenting him.
"All in a night's work, babe," he grinned lopsidedly, certain from my long-awaited moan that he had finally made me come. As long as he didn't notice my gouging hand at my cunt, nothing I would do would dissuade him.
I didn't have to act now. I was really coming. My pussy was teeming with the chaotic release of bottled-up sexual energy.
Really showing off now that he was sure he'd made me come, Roy began operating his cock like a battering ram. Huge thuds boomed in my bowels as he brutally slammed away toward his conclusion.
"If you like it now," he boasted, "wait until I come."
Closing my eyes and gritting my teeth, I thrust my entire hand into my gaping pussy and held on for dear life. By the time Roy finally came, I was fist-fucking myself.
There wasn't enough space between my rectum and my twat to keep Roy's cock and my knuckles out of each other's way. With the addition of about a pint of cum to the limited stricture of my anus, some kind of collision was inevitable.
When it happened, the result was even more extreme than I had anticipated. By chance, the striking surface of my knuckles slammed through the meaningless membrane against the withdrawing head of his dick. Roy's shock was so great he instinctively jumped back. When his cock popped loudly out of my asshole, we both went flying backward like losers in a tug-of-war.
We landed on opposite sides of the bed, out of each other's sight. On my side there was already a puddle forming on the floor from my cum-leaking anus.
"Roy," I called, when I didn't hear him stir, "are you all right?"
I could just see the scandal if he was found naked in my bedroom with a broken neck. I'd made up my mind that if I could just get him out of here this would be my last affair.
However, before I could call his name again, I was distracted. It was a noise – I dared not guess what it was.
I looked everywhere for the origin of the noise. Everywhere, that is, except for the source that could signal the direst of consequences.
Finally I had run out of possibilities. Having no alternative, I looked toward the door and anticipated the worst.
Yes, to my horror it was open. What I'd heard was the door opening. Suddenly a man filled up the space.
"Tom," I called my husband's name, certain I had been caught cheating, "I can explain everything."
His response was to stride wordlessly toward me from the doorway. I didn't have to confirm it was Tom's face because I was too busy looking at the muzzle of the gun in his hand.
I opened my mouth to speak again, but the words were literally crammed back down my throat. The thick barrel of the gun suddenly engorged my mouth, penetrating so deeply it brought tears to my eyes.
Oh, Jesus, I hysterically thought, Tom's gone crazy with jealousy! He's going to blow my head off!
Fighting to see past the tears of pain, I looked up to beg with my eyes for mercy. I didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified anew. The man I saw was not my husband.
"Just don't make a move, bitch," the burly bearded man with the gun in my mouth barked. "If you do it won't bother me any to make minestrone out of your pretty little brains."
I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I was so tense I thought I would shatter, making that one false move that could cost me my life.
"Okay, now," the guy said, "slowly – very slowly – I want you to get up on your knees."
Agonizingly I tried to do as he said, but I was paralyzed.
"Come on," he insisted. "Get on your knees and suck my Magnum like you were sucking my cock."
Risking instant decapitation, I shook my head that I couldn't do it. I was a helpless puddle on the floor.
"Calm down," he surprised me by taking a more civil approach. "You behave yourself and you won't get hurt. You're not the one we want."