Rod reamed and twisted, doing all he could to make her shiver in grinding agony and cry out for forgiveness. But it was too late for that. Later, he thought, when we're alone. Then I'll fix this wanton bitch. I'll fix her good!
At the same time, he felt steaming surges of pleasure. The way her little shithole squirmed and hugged his throbbing cock, the way she moaned and babbled and rocked her hips to meet his angry thrusts… he'd never loved or wanted her more.
"Aaaaahhh… hhhhhaaaaa!" Rod fired his last blazing spurt. His balls heaved, Laura's fingers teased, but they came up dry.
"Hhhooooo," she moaned when she felt its empty throb. But Brad's young cock still pulsed with flooding vigor. His gushing cum bubbled from her cunt slit and dribbled on his trembling groin.
Laura ground herself down on the damp mat of his rough cock hair. Her pink cunt lips pulsed and the raw nub of her clit bulged and slithered in the dripping overflow. "Hhhaaa. hhaagghhh!"
They were through. Weak and breathless, Rod let his sagging cock slip from Laura's ass. She tumbled sideways and sprawled across the bed between the two men. "Oh, that was good… the best I ever had," she told them.
A sudden blush reddened Brad's cheeks. "Aah, er… I guess I'd better be going," be said nervously, not daring to look at Laura's husband on the far side of her. "Er, well… it was nice meeting you," he babbled as he searched anxiously for his clothes. "Mrs. Benton… Laura. You too, Mr. Benton."
By then Brad was headed out the door, his pants only half on. He stumbled awkwardly, and Rod had to strain to keep from laughing. "Sure, Brad," he called after him. "We'll have to get together again sometime."
Laura still quaked with the blissful aftershocks of her double orgasm. Several minutes went by before she had breath to speak. Finally she looked at Rod, forced a weak little grin and asked haltingly: "You're not mad?"
Rod's eyes narrowed and he said, "Mad? No, hell… I'm not mad. I'm ass fucking furious!"
CHAPTER FIVE
Cindy Wilson felt warm with an inner glow long after Rod left the house. She'd watched from the window, her blonde hair gleaming in the faint light of the setting sun, as he crossed the street with strong, determined strides.
She smiled and felt her confidence swell, watching him dodge nimbly between his car and the empty rented truck. That morning when the truck first arrived, Cindy had seethed with envy.
First she saw Mrs. Benton – Laura – her full figure and shining raven hair. So beautiful and so much a woman. Then, peering through a slit in the drapes, she'd watched Rod Benton climb down from the cab of the truck, strong and distinguished looking. Cindy had known then what she must do to prove herself a woman too. She had to have Rod Benton.
It wasn't that she lacked for sex. She had her pick of guys at school. When she leaped and pranced in the short gold skirt and tight black sweater the cheerleaders wore, a thousand young male eyes stayed glued to her every move.
But they were just kids, even the seniors who thought they were such hot stuff. Cindy felt more like a woman, she had for a long time. And she wanted a man. A real man. Someone strong, confident and controlled.
Why that urgent need? Why the restless yearning, when with just a wink and a smile she could have any hot young cock she wanted? Suddenly she knew. There was an aching void in her life that only a man could fill. And not just any man. Not Rod Benton or anyone else, but the man she knew better and loved more than any other.
With a trembling hand, Cindy picked up the phone and dialed a number she had memorized. She tossed her long blonde hair aside and cradled the receiver close to her ear. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Cindy drew in a nervous breath. What if he wasn't home. And what would she say if he was? Suddenly she felt like a little girl again, not like a woman at all.
"Hello?" a gruff male voice said at last.
"Hi," she answered with a nervous tremor that turned her voice to a pitiful squeak. "It's me Cindy."
"Cindy, what the hell? I mean, how are you, honey?"
"I'm fine," she said with a vixenish grin. "Just fine." She could still feel echoing throbs of a long, thick cock deep in her hungry cunt.
"Then what is it?" he asked. "I wasn't expecting you to call."
"I know, but I have to talk to you."
"O.K., talk." Impatience crackled in his voice. The dapper, dark eyed man on the other end of the line gazed hungrily at the busty young redhead lounging on the couch beside him. He rolled his eyes in an open gesture of frustration, covered the mouthpiece and whispered to her, "Just a minute."
"I don't mean on the phone," Cindy said. "I need to see you… talk face to face."
"Honey, we can't do that. Not right now. You know your mother wouldn't like it."
"She's at work," the young blonde said. "She won't be home until after midnight."
"I can't come there," he said firmly.
"Then I'll come to your place."
"No," he snapped harshly. Then his voice softened. "I… er, well… I've got company."
"Oh," she answered with a bitter chill. "And I guess she's more important to you now than I am?"
"No, it's not that, but…"
"Please," Cindy begged. "It's important. I have to see you."
The man sighed. He never had been able to resist that sorrowful tone of her voice. He could almost see the look of pleading urgency in her eyes. "All right," he said. "I'll be therein a little while."
"I knew you would!" she gushed excitedly. "Thank you, Daddy. Thanks a lot!"
Cindy smiled as she hung up the phone. Her confidence came swelling back. When her father said he had company, he meant that fiery red-haired witch from the office where he worked. She took a long breath and swelled her firm young tits. She'd show them. She'd show them both!
Brad Wilson stumbled into the living room, around the piles of boxes and jumbled furniture dropped here and there. At the front door he paused, rasping for breath, listening to the babble of angry voices from the bedroom.
He knew all hell was about to break loose, and he wanted nothing more than to get away. Far away. His parents had argued in the same tone before his father left. With them the trouble was not enough sex. He'd heard his father rage and call his mother "icy pants" more times than he could remember.
Brad pulled up his pants and quickly buttoned his shirt. The Benton's bitter quarrel was getting louder, and he heard Mr. Benton call Laura a "stinking whore" as he ducked out the door.
With them the trouble was too much sex. Halfway down the walk Brad heard Mr. Benton call Laura a "slut" and a "nympho", and then a sharp crack like maybe he'd hit her. Brad sighed and took a long breath. He didn't understand adults. Not at all. He needed to be with someone nearer his own age. And not his sister. Not her of all people. Shit, her head is messed up worse than mine, he thought.
And no wonder! As soon as Cindy's girlish figure began filling out, their father lectured her constantly about how rotten young guys are, how all they wanted was to feel and fuck. Of course, his dad never used the word "fuck", not with precious little Cindy. He got around it by saying stupid things like, "get fresh" and "go all the way". Even like that, he made having sex sound like an awful sin.
But then at night in their bedroom, Brad would hear his dad say terrible things when his mother wasn't all hot to trot. It didn't make sense. Of all of them, Laura Benton was the most honest and put-together person he knew. At least she knew what she wanted and how to get it.
Rod Benton grabbed Laura by her long black hair and jerked her off the bed. She cowered before him and he gave her a stinging backhand slap across her face. "You stupid cunt!" he roared. "What are you trying to do, get us run out of this town before we even unpack?" He slapped her viciously again and let her fall, sinking weakly to her knees.