"Awwwwwww! You're killing meeeeeee!" Susan screamed as bolts of excruciating pain ripped through her body. Her tits were mashed against the carpet. As she twisted her upper body, trying to escape the sergeant's awful prick, her aroused nipples got flaming hot, almost getting a carpet burn.
The sergeant fucked into Susan relentlessly, driving his cock into her ass until she had taken every inch of his prick. He watched as her asshole puckered inward and the sight was strange for him. Not only was this way of fucking new for Susan, but the cop had never cornholed a woman before, either. Once his prick was completely buried in Susan's ass, the cop dropped down on her, his badge jabbing into the softness of her back.
"Whore!" the cop hissed in Susan's ear as he raised his hips, then slammed down again.
Susan, completely mad with pain, twitched and convulsed on the floor. The pain subsided as she became only partially conscious. She heard the hideous grunts of the sergeant and was faintly aware of something hard being driven into her ass, then a strange wetness in her asshole. The cop gave her a final few stabs with his cock. Susan, cheek pressed to the carpet, heard the cops say something about death if anybody said anything and then heard the patio door open and close.
She was picked up by George and Sam, and she was lowered into a bathtub filled with warm water.
"How you doing?" George asked, his voice filled with concern.
"Fine," Susan answered, looking at her husband and all their friends. "I've got a pain in my ass that won't quit, and my throat doesn't exactly feel the greatest, but other than that I'm fine."
CHAPTER SEVEN
A week after the agonizing rape of Susan by the cops, the three couples still hadn't gotten together. The event had put a bad light on their whole cavalier attitude toward sex. Jay in particular was disappointed that his plans of fucking his neighbors had been, he feared, ruined forever.
Sam, who was just beginning to enjoy the freedom of watching other people fuck, was especially disappointed with Helen. His gorgeous wife had always refused to fuck him or suck his cock with other people watching, and Sam wanted to taste the new thrills that his friends were enjoying. One night, when he was horny and the memory of watching Susan sucking the cocks of the policemen was burning brightly in his mind, Sam took out his rage on Helen.
"You're a fucking prude!" Sam hissed from across the room. "Look at your friends they're not afraid of anything. But you… no… you're afraid of everything new and exciting!"
"What's so exciting about fucking in front of our friends?" Helen shot back, rage now building inside her. "You never wanted to do it before!"
"You seem to find it pretty Goddamn hot watching, but when it comes to participating no! That's something altogether different now, isn't it?" Sam grabbed his car keys from the coffee table and stuffed them in his pocket.
"I'm taking off. Maybe if I drink enough, you'll seem more appealing to me."
Helen didn't say a word as Sam left the house, slamming the door on his way out. Quietly, feeling self-pity starting to get the best of her, Helen went to the liquor cabinet and poured herself some gin. Maybe liquor would make her feel better about herself and calm her fears that her marriage was breaking up.
At Susan and George's house, life wasn't much better. George hadn't been able to fuck his wife since she had been brutally cornholed by the cop, and his prick desperately needed to fuck her cunt or mouth.
"Then suck me off, damn it! The cop didn't hurt your lips, did he?" George asked, sitting at the kitchen table with his wife. "Look, I'm not asking for the world and I'm not going to fuck you in the ass! I'm horny and you're my wife!"
"I'm terribly sorry if you feel I'm not a very good wife," Susan said softly, holding back the tears. "But I'm just not in the mood."
Although her ass didn't hurt anymore from the fucking the cop had given her, she had willingly, wantonly fucked two strangers in front of her husband. She had done it to fulfill a fantasy and Susan was afraid that fucking her husband wouldn't be as thrilling now that she knew how erotic it was to fuck two cocks at once.
"I'm going to bed," she said, barely loud enough for George to hear.
"But it's only seven-thirty!"
"I'm tired."
Angry, confused, horny, not knowing what to do or where to find the answers to questions he didn't understand, George decided to go across the street and talk to Sam.
Helen was knocking down her second drink when there was a knock op the door. She answered it and found George, looking like he had lost every friend he had ever known.
"You look like you need a drink," Helen said, opening the door wide.
"You look like you've got a jump on me in that category." George made himself a drink and sat down on the couch. "Is Sam here?"
"No, he's getting drunk, too."
"Problems?"
"I'm a prude and he likes his women hot and wild." Helen sipped her drink and sat in a chair facing George. "He wants a woman like Susan – intelligent, beautiful, always wearing sexy clothes. Yeah, you've got the ideal wife and I'm a school marm. A damn prude."
"Then Sam would be surprised to know that I haven't been fucked since we had that little pool party," George said.
He leaned back in the couch and looked at Helen, liking very much what he saw. She was more earthy than his wife. Helen had the clean, good looks of a country girl – not at all like Susan, who never left the house without having her hair properly set and her make-up on just so. His prick, neglected for a week realized what his eyes were seeing and began to twitch, getting longer and harder.
A half hour later Helen and George were talking about sex explicitly. Helen explained over and over that she wasn't a prude, that, in fact, she was really a very horny woman. She moved over and sat on the couch with George, far enough away so that they weren't touching, but close enough so they could be more intimate in their conversation.
"I love watching you and Susan getting it on, watching her suck your cock or you fucking her, but I just can't do it myself," Helen explained. "That's not so weird or prudish, is it?"
George got up and made himself a drink. As he walked back to the couch, Helen noticed the throbbing hard-on that tented out his pants.
"It must be difficult on you," she said, nodding her head toward his crotch. "A lusty man such as yourself not getting pussy as regularly as you once had."
"Difficult isn't the word for it. It's more like torture. Torture of the worst kind." George rubbed his prick through his pants. "Get down, damn it!"
"Do you really think talking to your prick is going to make it relax?" Helen said, smiling for the first time that day.
"There's only one thing that could make this thing go down… and we both know what it is," George said.
Helen was a little drunk, but she knew exactly what she was doing. George had showered her with compliments since he had come over, and that was exactly what she needed to hear because Sam had made her feel as though she was the most sexless, undesirable woman in the world.
"Jerk off," Helen whispered, sliding over on the couch. "I don't mind. I want to watch you jerk off." George looked at her, his eyes wide with confusion and fear. Helen took his hand and placed it over his bulging prick. "Go ahead, jerk off."
"I can't. It seems wrong."
"There's nothing wrong with it. Come on, jerk off." Helen pulled George's zipper down and then unbuckled his belt. George was too stunned to do anything but sit there and watch in amazement.