The dark hole of her ass clenched tight, forbidding him to enter, promising to wrench and burn the hot muscle of his cock with stubborn, dry resistance if he did.
"Where's that fucking cream you smear on your face every night?" he asked, swinging off her to paw through the drawer of the nightstand on her side of the bed. "Here it is… Vanishing Cream," he read from the label on the jar. Ralph unscrewed the lid and scooped three fingers into the white muck. "How much of this shit will I have to rub on your tight little ass to make it disappear?"
He swept his hand into the taut valley between her nervous ass checks and smeared her puckered, straining asshole.
Wanda made a muffled yelp. The cream felt chilling cold at first, but it spread warm and smooth as his demanding fingers worked it into her asshole.
"I used to hate that shit!" he said. "Hated to crawl in the sack with a bitch that looked like she'd taken a bath in whale blubber. Hhhnunm, now I like the way it slicks your little shitter!"
Wanda gulped, almost choking on the gag. Ralph wiggled a finger into her ass, smearing the dark walls of her tube with the creamy gao. Still raw and hot from the brutal stab of the whip handle, her ass began to feel better as he greased it with load after load of silken slime.
She gasped. She could almost feel his cock driving in. Her shithole pulsed and set clinging waves of desire up and down his probing finger. She moaned. She wanted his cock, but couldn't get the words beyond the gag.
Ralph teased her by laying the thick round head of his cock on her cream-smeared asshole as he worked his slithering fingers up her back.
"Maybe this shit will make those ugly red welts vanish too," he said.
Wanda stirred warmly from the strength of his erotic massage. Her writhing arms and legs pulled hard against the binding strength of cloth, but she could no longer feel the tension of restraint. Her whole body seemed to melt like the flowing white cream.
"Mmmmm," she purred. After the stinging lash of Fred's whip, the warmth of Ralph's swirling fingers made her passions squirm with flaming desire.
"I'm gong to smear on the whole bottle of this shit," Ralph said. "I'm going to make the old Wilma vanish!"
Compared to the wife he knew, this woman was like a stranger – a beautiful and wildly exciting stranger. Ralph's cock beat hard against her ass, pressing to gain entry to the hole he'd so long yearned to fuck.
"Uuuiigh!" he growled, no longer able to hold back. He thrust with his hips and drove the thick knob into her slithering asshole.
A muffled groan shot from Wanda's lips, sharp despite the wad of cloth jammed and knotted in her mouth. She could feel his long cock shaft sliding in, an effortless glide down a hot greased slide.
"Unngh," Ralph grunted as rough curls of his cock hair scraped and smashed themselves on the slick clefted hump of her twitching ass. He'd ass fucked before, but never in a shit-hole as clinging tight and silky smooth as hers was now. He could feel each grasping pulse of desire ripple like wet velvet around his prick.
"Aahhh, Wilma – you don't know how long and hard I've dreamed about fucking your ass!"
Wanda felt a grin curve her trembling lips while her ass muscles tensed in constrictions of wild joy. Ralph's cock drilled deep, twisting at the bottom of each fiercely demanding stroke. She wondered how much more excited he would be when he learned the truth that the thrill of fucking his prudish wife's ass still awaited him.
CHAPTER NINE
Wilma sprawled limp in the middle of the large bed usually shared by Jack and his wife, her wanton twin. All night, Jack thought it was Wanda he had bound and fucked with his massive, untiring cock.
A thankful, "Goodbye," was all she muttered when he said he was leaving for his weekly handball game with Ralph at the Athletic Club where they both worked out, "Good riddance!" Wilma said when he was safely out the door.
Her muscles still ached from the torture of restraint. Worse was the tangled pain in her mind. In a way she could not believe it had happened, but she had raw red welts on her wrists and ankles to remind her. And she could still taste the slick remains of salty cream shot deep into her throat.
"Ugh!" she grumbled, rising weakly on one elbow. It all seemed so horrible and disgusting now. Wilma's prudish mind refused to admit that in the heat of passion she had actually begged Jack to fuck harder and subject her to even wilder abuse.
"Hi," Wanda said in a weary voice. Wanda stood at the bedroom door wearing one of Wilma's frumpy dresses. There wasn't enough left of her gown to wear home in the bright light of day. Fred James had slashed it to rags with the biting tongue of the long black whip.
"Where have you been all night?" Wilma asked, sullen anger snapped in her voice as sharp as the crack of braided leather.
Wanda avoided answering directly. "Well, I couldn't just walk in the door while Jack had you tied to the coffee table. He thought that was me he was fucking."
"He thought it was you he was fucking all night. After the table, he had me all tied up in bed!" Wilma scowled and massaged her burning wrists.
"And you loved it," Wanda said. "After he fucked the cobwebs out of your cunt…"
"I did not!" Wilma raged. "I've never been through anything so horrible and disgusting! I may never be the same…"
"Let's hope not," Wanda said spitefully. "Ralph won't want you back the way you were."
"What? Were you with him… with Ralph?"
"Well, sure. You were busy with mine, and Ralph was expecting you home."
"What happened?" Wilma demanded hoarsely. Wanda shot her a sly smile. "Ralph got a lot more than he expected… and so did you."
"I don't… I won't believe it. Ralph would never…"
"He thought it was you," Wanda reminded her.
Wilma looked like she might faint.
Wanda smiled. "He tore up your dumpy old nightgown and used it to tie me spread-eagled on the bed. He fucked my ass, then my cunt… then he took the gag out of my mouth and made me suck his cock until it got hot enough to do it all again."
"Oh, God in heaven!"
"It was all your idea," Wanda said. "You're the one who wanted to pull the switch to impress your boss…"
"I-I almost forgot about that. What happened with him?"
Wanda turned slowly, peeling off Wilma's sack like dress. "First he whipped the living shit out of me," she said, softly fingering the red welts criss-crossing her smooth white skin. "He had me chained like a fucking slave – and that's exactly what I was. He's hotter and wilder than Jack and Ralph put together."
Wilma moaned and then violently shook her head. "NO! I don't believe it. Not Mr. James…"
"Honey, that horny son of a bitch has a whole room in that fancy house of his set up like a torture chamber he saw in an old castle somewhere."
"I could never believe anything so… so warped about Mr. James."
"Well…" Wanda flashed a teasing grin, "you'll have a chance to see for yourself tonight. He's expecting me… or you back there tonight."
"What?"
"For a special little party with some friends of his."
"I can't. I could never do anything like that."
"Well, I can't take your place forever, Wilma."
"But… but!"
"You won't have to go alone. I'm going with you. I wouldn't miss it for anything."
"Then why do I have to go?"
"Because he's your boss, and he's expecting you. Last night he thought you were the greatest. Tonight he'll think you're better yet, because we'll take turns. We'll dress alike, like we did when we were little, and we'll wring that cock of his dry before we're through."