Diane straightened up the kitchen for perhaps the dozenth time, waiting impatiently for Roger to come home. She looked over at the table, set but incomplete without the candles and wine she had originally planned to have. Feelings of remorse and guilt swept through her. When she was upset like this she had to keep her hands busy, and she occupied herself by washing a couple of kitchen shelves unnecessarily. As the hours ticked by, the morning's horrible experience began to return to her mind in spite of herself. She blushed guiltily at the thoughts, shutting her eyes tightly in a vain effort to reject the smoldering picture of her fingers contacting the soft, wet slit of her vagina and throbbing mounds of her breasts, and she drew in her breath sharply to hold back a groan of humiliation. She found herself once again reliving the maddening onanistic caresses, and her hips churned in unintentional rhythm to the teasing recollections of unwanted fulfillment.
The sound of Roger's car stopping in the garage brought Diane back to reality, shattering the horrid, vile dream in her mind. She whimpered as tears of abasement cascaded down her cheeks. Oh God! she cried to herself. Only yesterday I had convinced myself I would give my body to Roger tonight, and really find myself sexually. Well, she had found a certain sexuality within her — but not with her husband. The mental preparations had been for naught, had actually turned her colder than ever. He must never know. Roger must never know…
Suddenly the door burst open and Roger stormed into the kitchen. His eyes blazed with the uncontrolled lust which burned through his loins. His immense, ruby-tipped penis leaped ahead of him as he moved deliberately across the room toward his wife, and he held it pointing at her with his hand still beating the hardened flesh.
Diane shuddered, her breath frozen in her throat, and she could only stand immobile where she was. What…? What was this… this sick thing she was witnessing? Roger, her Roger, standing there with his huge penis in his hand. Her mind balked, and then she was overcome with dreadful apprehension.
"I've got to have you, you bitch!" Roger blurted. "Right now, right here, and Goddamn it, you'd better be good for a change!"
Diane cowered back into a corner, whimpering with fright. He stepped closer, then grabbed her savagely with his free hand. He swept her to him, and her attempts to free herself from his grasp were futile. She was hauled ruthlessly against the rigidity of his lust-hardened cock. She felt his immense weapon through the thin material of her housedress, and she stared in abject horror into his contorted face. His eyes were more lust-possessed than she had ever seen them before, and his mouth was drawn back over his teeth in an almost vicious snarl.
Wild thought of wrenching herself free and running from him seized Diane, but her husband's strong arms pinned her to him and his hot, beer-smelling mouth crushed against hers, stifling the groans she emitted in a tight, grinding kiss. Oh no! Oh God no! she thought wildly. What hideously monstrous thing is happening to me? Am I to be raped by my own husband? Is this my punishment for… what I did this morning? Her eyes puddled with terrible anguish. God, I'm helpless; I can't move; I can't move!
Roger's hands explored her body, clutching and squeezing her soft, sensitive flesh, pulling harshly at her clothes. His swollen, rigid prick throbbed excitedly against her as he pinned her to him. Diane struggled feebly for one panicky moment, feeling his hand pressed against her tender breast and then she went limp, allowing the softness of her lips to meet Roger's own questing mouth. She couldn't fight him, he was too strong, but perhaps if she gave in a little it would help to return him to sanity. Desperately she thrust her tongue between Roger's lips and deep into his mouth, and he sucked it hungrily into the wetness of his cheeks. His kisses burned her like a firebrand.
Roger eased his head away then and hissed: "Take your clothes off!"
"Darling… please!" she tried to plead with him, but it fell on deaf and ignoring ears. "I… have your favorite dinner… all ready and waiting. Let's do… this later, if you want, but not… not this way!"
Roger snarled and threw her to the floor. "Not this way… not any Goddamned way if you had your choice!" he spat thickly, his face contorted in a mask of rage and lust. He turned and swept his powerful arm across the table, sending glasses and silverware crashing cacophonously to the linoleum and then he wrenched the tablecloth off and wadded it and threw it against the stove. "The only dinner I want is a good fuck, you bitch! To hell with the food, understand?"
Diane knew that to plead anymore would be useless. She could only look up from her sprawling position on the linoleum and quiver helplessly from the evil which she knew was about to be perpetrated upon her defenseless body.
"You frigid, prick-teasing, sniveling, dried-up bitch! You were cut out to be an old maid, a virginal old maid. Why didn't you join a nunnery, for Christ's sake?"
Diane moaned and lowered her face to her hands as Roger loomed over her. His long, turgid shaft bobbed above her, and she closed her eyes. But then… it touched her cheek! Panicked, she suddenly squirmed and struggled with renewed strength, frenzied at the thought of his filthy, lust bloated penis so close to her. She raked her fingernails against his cock and shrieked, "Get away from me! Don't touch me, you… you animal!"
Roger lurched back beyond the reach of her claw-like nails. "Damn you! Goddamn you!" he shouted. "I'll teach you!" He reached out and grabbed her wrists and threw his body at her until his cock was jammed against her face again. "You want to do it the hard way, well then we'll do it the hard way!"
"No, no… please… I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Diane pleaded, the scalding tears streaming down her cheeks as he tore at her dress. Roughly he shredded the clothes from her, ripping and shredding the material as if it were tissue paper, until she was naked before him except for panties and bra. The dress lay like a lewd blanket around her.
"Shut up, you bitch!" he snarled.
"Roger, why… why are you acting like this?" she moaned, his foul language and affronts a searing pain within her. She saw him take another drunken look between her widespread legs and her fear-quivering breasts.
"I'll tell you what you're going to do. You're going to suck me," Roger sneered. "That's it. You're going to put my cock in your mouth and suck it. You'd hate that, wouldn't you?"
She nodded uncontrollably. The very idea of his male organ filling her mouth was abhorrent, and she involuntarily gagged.
Without warning, he thrust forward and down, and the mammoth, sex-crazed head of his blue-veined penis rubbed against her taut, lipstick lined lips. She tried to twist herself free, but he pressed on and the saltine, musky taste of his cock began to seep inside her mouth. She gritted her teeth and moaned: "No… no… please…" and as she did he rammed forward. His prick forced its way deep into the soft folds of her mouth, like some horrible snake crawling in its hole.
"Suck, baby, suck!" he groaned, moving his buttocks in the pagan ritual of copulation. He dragged her hair and held it in his steel grip and drew her head toward him in spite of her efforts to free herself; she felt his sliding shaft burrow halfway down her throat, then back out slightly, then forward again.
"Oh Christ, Diane!" Roger hissed, "Uhhhhhh… I love my cock in your mouth!"
His obscene words brought back the memory of the overheard bathroom scene of that morning, and for an instant Diane envisioned Judy Carneal lavishly suckling that man while he sat on the toilet. Her lips began to nibble slowly at her husband's thrusting instrument, and she coughed and sputtered. His balls bounced against her chin and there was the stale odor of sweat from his inner thighs, filling her nostrils with a constant reminder of the cruel, depraved attack she was being subject to.
"Jesus, Jesus!" he spluttered, "Oh my Christ!"