Doug continued to surge forward, straining with all his might, until finally…
"Nnnooooo… oh God nooooo…!"
Stabs of shooting pain shot up Betty's spinal cord as Doug finally managed to insert the thickly pulsing head of his cock up inside the elastic-tightness of her futilely resisting rectum. For a moment, she thought she was split in two. She was completely stunned by the excruciating pain and her breath was coming in agonizing gasps.
"Stop it… stop it, please… you're killing me…" she rasped hoarsely, barely able to make her voice heard.
But Doug was cruelly oblivious to his wife's agony. After a moment or two of gathering his strength, he shoved forward again, forcing his huge, lust-distended cock into the virginally tight, unyielding sheath of her rectum. Relentlessly, he surged on, searing the sensitive inner membrane unbearably, until at long last, he was embedded to the hilt in her sorely abused anal depths. He held it there triumphantly, watching the desperate squirming of Betty's lewdly skewered buttocks.
"… uuugggghhhnnnhhh… Aaaahhhh…" Betty moaned incessantly, unable to do anything else. She never felt so used and debased in her entire life. The pain, excruciating as it was, was nothing compared to the agony of her mind. She could never hold up her head again after this terrible anal rape. She never imagined that people did such things to each other, least of all her own husband! And to think she'd felt guilty over using the vibrator! That seemed very minor now in comparison with what her husband was doing to her.
Doug began to withdraw, pulling out his long, rangy rod with a slow movement. The tight dry inner flesh clung agonizingly to the slowly exciting shaft, causing new pain to flood through Betty's lewdly impaled loins.
When just the heavy, blood-filled head was still tightly sunk inside the tiny muscular ring, Doug surged forward again, this time without stopping, and embedded his passion-inflated cock right down to the base in her firmly clenched back channel. Then he began a slow, laborious in and out rhythm, the tortured rectum finally yielding slightly and allowing him to plunge and withdraw with greater ease.
Betty's pain lessened slightly too, but her entire frame was still numb with shock and she didn't feel anything. Her tired brain refused to operate, too, and she could do nothing but hunch there in her crude position, waiting until her husband had finished with her. Her naked buttocks felt sore and bruised, but she was a slavish victim to her husband's greater strength and power. But she'd pay him back, that was for sure…
Doug fucked into his wife's widely stretched anus like a man possessed. The very licentiousness of the act gave him new thrills of lurid pleasure, and the knowledge that he was hurting and embarrassing his wife in a mind-shattering way added to his lust-incited passion. The sight of her crouched and trembling figure filled him with a brutal kind of power and he was determined to get the most pleasure he could from his unwilling victim.
"Move that tight little ass of yours around on my cock, baby," he leered suddenly, accompanying his obscene order with a hard slap of his open palm on the flaccid flesh of her buttock.
His vile words made Betty shudder with revulsion, but fear propelled her into giving some semblance of a response, even though the idea repulsed her. Awkwardly, she tried to rotate the trembling mounds of her backside, but new shivers of pain chilled through her and she had to cease her attempts. But luckily, Doug didn't seem to notice. He was completely carried away by the obscene act he was enforcing, and Betty suddenly realized that he was very near to climaxing.
His deep hard thrusts had become more convulsive, the tempo of his brutal ass-fucking increasing with each passing second. The thought that he would soon empty his seething hot semen into her abused anal passage filled Betty with loathing, but at the same time, she wanted the moment to come, so that she would be released from this degradation. Hoarse, semi-human groans filled the air, and Doug was like a wild beast behind her, bucking and battering against her bruised, strained backside. He was like a rutting animal, Betty thought, and she wondered if she would ever forgive him for this terrible outrage. She doubted it, in her present state of mind.
But just then, she forgot about everything in the horrendous enormity of what happened next. Doug stiffened behind her, and for a moment seemed completely suspended. And then, with the force of a giant tidal wave, he began to fuck into her with hard spasmodic thrusts. He was cumming!
"Oh Christ! I'mthere…!" he groaned hoarsely, his voice barely discernible. "Aaaaarrrrrgggghhhh…!"
Betty could feel the first onrush of the scalding fluid as it jetted into her chafed anal depths, and it stung the sensitive inner flesh almost beyond belief.
"Fuck back, Goddamn you…" Doug hissed lewdly, as he sent spurt after spurt of hot, boiling sperm into her forever-stretched anal channel. It flowed unceasingly into the fearfully cringing interior of her helpless little belly to lie in a lascivious pool in her tortured depths.
At last, it was over. Betty could hardly believe it when she felt her husband's limply deflating penis begin to slip harmlessly from her flooded rectum, and Doug himself staggered away from her still crouching form.
Without another word, Doug ambled in the direction of the bedroom, and Betty heard the kitchen door slam with an ominous finality which seemed to echo through the darkened house.
CHAPTER THREE
Betty had thought that the morning would never come. All night long, it seemed to her, she had lain awake, her thoughts seething with disbelief and anger over what had happened. Doug slept on unconcernedly beside her, and the knowledge that he was apparently untroubled by what he had done, added fuel to the fire of her fury. When at last dawn had come, she had risen wearily, and this morning, the brandy was very welcome in her coffee. She had just finished her second cup when Doug had come into the kitchen and she had silently set about preparing breakfast for him. She didn't think she could face anything to eat herself.
"Betty, honey, about last night…" Doug began tentatively, hoping for some encouraging reassurance, but Betty didn't reply. "I'm really sorry… it'll never happen again, believe me!"
Doug's voice was earnest and humble, but Betty didn't care. Without a word, she handed him a plate of bacon and eggs, and poured him a cup of coffee.
"At least say something," Doug pleaded, ignoring his meal. "I've said I'm sorry – what more do you want? I… I guess I just lost my temper, besides being dead tired."
"Your breakfast is getting cold," Betty said indifferently, moving out of the kitchen and going into the living room.
Gratefully, she sank down into the soft sofa. Her husband didn't say anything more and she was grateful for that. She wanted to think, to go over the horrible events of last night. It wouldn't be for the first time, of course, but she reasoned that the cold light of day might throw a new gleam on the unbelievable trauma of last night. She admitted to herself that she was partly to blame, but at least, she told herself, her motives were altruistic. She had been really worried about her husband and it was her relief more than anything that had made her harangue and nag at him when he came home.
He should have phoned her – there was no denying that. But why didn't he, if his reason really was, as he insisted, that the car broke down? Betty just couldn't figure that one out. A looming suspicion kept nagging at the back of her mind… maybe he had spent the evening with another woman! No! No! Doug wouldn't do a thing like that! I know he wouldn't… or would he?
Betty just couldn't bring herself to believe that her husband was actually involved with another woman… but why then had he got so upset when she had questioned him? Was it because of a guilty conscience? But worst of all, what had made him do such a disgusting, perverted thing to her? A shiver coursed through her as she recalled the agonizing pain and humiliation of that degrading act. Her sorely tried rectal channel still twinged from his cruel rape, and she was aware of a general, overall discomfort and achiness. She still couldn't really believe that it had been her husband who had done such a dreadful thing to her. He was like a complete stranger, demented with depraved lust. And now, the fact was, she didn't think she could trust him ever again. He had broken some indefinable bond in their marriage by his wanton behavior, and that tie could never be repaired, no matter what he did or said.