He fell forward in a sudden rush of passion, burying his cock like a raging battleaxe to its hilt, smashing her tits to her chest, sinking to he FДlly without mercy or thought of injury. The soft ridges of her cunt enclosed his rampaging machine in soft velvetness. He slowly stroked outward, then shoved back in, making her gasp with pain.
"Like it?" he sneered in crazed tormentation.
"Ohhhhh, yes, oh yes!" she groaned, beginning to react. There was no reason to deny the flames of carnality which seared her body, for she was lost. Lost! Cord had taken everything that was right and good from her, and she in turn had abandoned control over herself. The abysmal thought of her total surrender sent chills coursing along her spine and she twitched and writhed to the slow rhythm of her husband's boss's penis skewering inside her.
Cord slipped his hands down her sides and under the undulating orbs of her ass, grasping one, then the other, reveling in their flexing as he pressed his hands tightly to them. He jerked her harder to his loins and felt her pulling her cunt against his cock. She flowered open to receive still more, insatiable now. He moved with long, smooth strokes that brought his cock to the edge of her now hungrily snapping vagina on the backthrust and then forward into her uplifted buttocks until he could feel the harsh slap of his bludgeoning balls against her tiny puckered anus. He thought of a further humiliation he could subject upon Diane and began to run his fingertips along the sides of her pussy, fondling the contracting lips, bringing still more moanings of abandonment from her as her ever more insatiable vagina worked to swallow his greedy cock.
The pain had long since vanished from her loins and her legs jerked and quivered on either side of his impaling rod with uncontrolled cadence. Diane slavered her tongue around her lips as she mewled in pleasure, and her neck and thighs strained with the intensity of emotion. There was nothing save the fantastically delicious sensation of lying beneath this man and returning thrust for thrust the wild fucking he was giving to her. Diane knew that Marc smiled the smile of a man triumphant, but she did not care.
He quickened his charging thrusts, hot and deep, as she thrashed beneath him. He could feel the power of her impending cum. Her breasts heaved against the pressure of his chest and the tiny diamond nipples dug deep into his bare chest, and her legs jerked out wide and up on either side of his pounding body. The plateau of her crotch was wide open to his pile-driver grindings, and the untouched recesses of her womb pushed against his brutal thrusts. He wanted her to remember this revolutionary turning point in her life, and worked harder and faster to make it true.
Then, "Oh Christ… Om my God, I'm cumming! Cumming! Cuuuuummmmiiiinnnnggggg!" She shivered under him, her cunt suddenly opening around him like a flood gate, voraciously gushing wet, sticky fluid around his madly pistoning cock. She jerked towards him several times, the lips of her vagina seething in a desperate sucking attempt to milk his penis dry. Her breath came ragged and choked, and he dove still deeper into her burning channel of sensuality. Then the boiling spigot of his own juices untapped to pour forth foaming jets of white, creamy sperm, and the top of his cock shot the hot, scalding liquid far, up into her soft, palpitating belly. Their frothing juices mingled into a reservoir of mutual joy and passion which Diane had never before in her life realized existed.
Her body, beaten and satiated, collapsed beneath Marc, her legs suddenly limp, her heart near bursting from her chest. Sanity seemed to return as the waves of sensuality receded, and then the shame an Ejmiliation came back. She remembered where she was, and who was on top of her, whose thick penis was buried in her still gently throbbing vagina. But the only thought which burned through her was to leave this horrible, degrading place and never return. Even though she had caught Roger making love to Cindy, it still did not give her right to do what she had done. Roger must never find out. Never!
Cord retracted his now deflated rod gently, and in agony, she rolled over, covering her exposed vaginal slit from his view with her thighs. She tried to blot out the closeness of him by throwing an arm over her eyes. It was enough to have been so weak and to have allowed Marc the unrestrained use of her body, but now his crudely deposited semen seeped from her cunt and began to trickle down her inner thighs, hot and sticky, making Diane whimper from further indignity.
"That was great, baby!" Cord said with an unmistakably victorious smile on his lips.
"Yes," she replied coldly. "Now let me up."
Cord smiled at her and slid off and stood up, retrieving his bathing suit. His limp prick hung dormant, the thick veneer of their cum juices coagulating around its wrinkled skin. Diane reached for her bra and bathing suit pants, pushing his offered hand away. She couldn't stand the touch of him. Not now, not after the terrible, debasing debacle she had just been subjected to. But in spite of herself, she watched how easily and naturally Marc stood before her, and she gazed hypnotically at the thick thatch around his groin as he eased his trunks up his legs. His balls were large and well attached; little reflexive shivers crawled up her spine.
"Come on," Marc said comfortingly. "If you're ready, we'll go back outside. Maybe you'd like a swim to cool off."
Diane froze, humiliation running rampant through her whole being, making her cheeks flush a deep red hue. The miserable ordeal of facing Roger now overwhelmed her, and she wasn't sure if she could stand it, not with another man's lewd sperm still boiling within her belly…
"What's the matter, Diane?" Marc asked softly. "You're not worried about your husband, are you?"
She could only nod, the choking reply of "Roger… Roger will never understand," bubbling from her trembling lips.
Marc laughed softly. "Really, Diane. He's had his, hasn't he. Isn't turnabout fair play?"
"It's… different with a man."
"No, it isn't. Not any more, Diane. You'd better begin living in the Twentieth Century. Your grandmother opened the gates when she fought for equal rights, and the equality she won should naturally extend to the bed as well. True democracy must include sex, for that's one of the basic freedoms if anything is, and we men should welcome that fact."
Mesmerically, his words churning in her brain, Diane let him lead her out of the living room and into the still bright afternoon sun. She looked down at her bare feet, unable to meet the eyes of the now dressed couple seated calmly at the grotto table. She was so ashamed, so mortified. She wanted to die!
"Bring the drinks, darling?" Cindy said loudly as they approached. Diane couldn't help but think how unconcerned she sounded, just as if nothing had happened. Just as if she had not screwed Roger and Marc had not just finished with her. Oh God, why couldn't the earth just open up and swallow her on the spot? Must she go through with this horrid farce?
"Sure, Cindy," Marc replied, holding the pitcher aloft. "Right here. Got the glasses ready?"
She numbly sat down across from Roger, head still bowed. He wouldn't look at her either, his own eyes lowered guiltily. Diane put her hands on the table and stared at her nails, two rivulets of tears running down her cheeks unheeded, for she was past resistance. Nothing mattered any more.
There was a silence as the glasses were filled, and then Cindy said in a casual tone: "Well, how was it, kids?"
Marc chuckled. "Great. Diane's a fabulous lay. Roger, you should really consider yourself lucky to have such a wild piece of ass for a wife."
Roger jerked to his feet in disbelief. "What? What are you saying, Marc. Did you…? Were you two in there…?" His words dripped bitterness and terror and instant loathing. He looked as if he were going to vomit.