Billy tossed her naked over the back of the car seat and, mounting her from behind, drove his awful prick into her asshole and pulled furiously at her tits with his rough hands, like he was milking a damn cow.
Sueanne groaned and tossed again in her sleep, feeling her rectum full of Billy's hot young meat, his hairy sac of balls slapping against her thighs as he fucked her incessantly.
Suddenly, her throat was filled with cock. A huge, hot blazing cock that stretched her sensitive throat walls and caused her mouth to blaze in pain. The cock grew larger and her throat swelled with its heat and mammoth size. She was strangling on the cock, the massive cock, the cock that fucked her throat. She could feel the red hot cock end pressing against the bottom of her belly, filling her own body. She struggled to breathe.
Then her body was filled with boiling semen and the cock wilted and slithered like a long snake from her belly, up her esophagus, turning in her throat and exiting her mouth head-first.
She looked up, in her breath, gasping for breath, her throat on fire with pain and she saw the owner of the snake-cock. It was her father, smiling down at her, smiling with an evil, menacing look.
Sueanne gasped out loud and woke up, her body chilled in the cold cabin. She saw the woodsman, Mike, naked next to her, his mouth slightly open in sporadic snoring.
"Mike," she whispered, nudging him, "Mike, wake up."
Mike groaned and half-opened his eyes.
"Hmmmm?"
"It's cold," she said, "the fire is dying out." Mike sat up, his skin goose-bumped from the cold.
"It's still snowing, too," he said. "I bet we can't get out of here tomorrow, either."
Sueanne smiled at the thought, wondering if she still had time to seduce the woodsman to plough her virgin cunt with his thick cock.
She watched the big man pad across the cold floor, shivering, and take large logs in either hand. He tossed them expertly into the simmering fireplace and stirred the coals.
"I hope that will last till morning," he said, "we're running low on wood."
He slipped into the warm blankets beside Sueanne's naked cold body and rubbed her with his big hands.
"Come on," he whispered, "snuggle up and keep warm. Body heat is the best kind."
She nested into his big body, spoon-style, and felt the heat emanating from him and entering her chilled skin.
"We could freeze to death up here," she said sadly. It was the first time that Sueanne had realized that there was real danger.
"Somebody will find us first," Mike promised. "At least, I hope they will."
Sueanne let him hold her protectively close and in moments, they were both asleep again.
She dreamed that Mike's soft cock, which she could feel pressing against her buttocks, became hard and slipped easily into the crevice of her cunt. She pictured its one-eyed head searching for her cunt hole and pushing into it, anxious to return to the womb. She dreamed that it found the blockade of her maidenhead and reared back to burst through it, releasing a waterfall of virgin blood that streamed down its length and made a pool of blood on Mike's big hairy balls.
But it was just a dream. Mike's cock slept peacefully, cuddled into the warmth of Sueanne's buttocks. It was tired and cold and had no intention of battling any maidenheads. At least not during this long chilly night.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was scarcely daybreak and the cold, gray morning light could hardly penetrate the windows, coated with the icy snow. Mike got up quietly, wrapping himself in a blanket and padding to the window, rubbing the pane of glass with his fist, trying to see out.
The glass was burning cold against his flesh and all he could see outside was the continuing thick fall of snow, coming down, burying the world in its soft blanket.
He tried the handle of the front door and pushed against it but it was wedged tightly, jammed from the outside with a five foot snow drift that, during the cold night, had become an iceberg.
Only a few logs left in the pile beside the window. He took them in his arms and carried them to the still glowing coals of the dying fireplace. He arranged them carefully and pushed some kindling under them, watching and shivering until the kindling caught fire and wrapped the green wood in a cradle of yellow flame.
He knew he had to get outside. Twenty feet in the back of the cabin, he had a log-pile, enough to keep them going for a day or two. But as he peered out the back window, he couldn't see it. The entire world seemed to be a mound of snow, beginning to glisten and shine as the first rays of the sun slanted toward it.
He looked at the young, blonde girl still sleeping on the wooden floor, huddled tightly in the woolen blanket. He wondered if he had dreamed the previous night – had he really fucked the girl's asshole? Had he really raped the girl's hot throat? His cock was well-fucked and resting this morning. Unusual, he thought. He usually woke up with a hard-on. But a lot of good it did him, anyway. His wife was always already in the kitchen, feeding the kids. He had learned to jerk his morning hard-on off in the steaming shower, watching his wad of clear jism swirl on the shower tile floor and disappear down the metal drain.
He would like a warm shower this morning, he thought, clutching the blanket closely to him and squatting on the hearth, anxiously waiting for the fire to roar and warm his body. A warm shower would feel just wonderful. His belly growled. He glanced over at the cupboard and hoped that there was food enough to sustain the two of them for however long they might be trapped up here. He was damned hungry.
When Sueanne awoke, she smelled the fatback sizzling in the fry pan over the roaring fire. She sat up, smiling, trying to remember where she was and how she got there. She could feel the pulling motions of her stomach, the tiny grumbling movement that told her she was really hungry. Her mouth was salivating at the smell.
Mike was fully dressed and squatting by the blazing fire. He looked at her, his square jaw morning-bearded, and he grinned.
"Good morning," he said cheerily.
"What is it?" She licked her lips and motioned to the fry pan.
"Fatback? I usually give it to the birds – but it's meat and I'm damned hungry. Hope you can eat it."
"I think," Sueanne said, sitting up and feeling the warmth of the fire against her body, "I think I could eat anything!"
She watched the woodsman's strong arms lift the fry pan from the fire and speared a piece of the translucent meat with a long fork. He held it out to her.
"Try it."
Her taste buds told her that the meat was tough and thick and greasy – but her belly welcomed its substance and she greedily ate her share.
"Now," Mike said, staring at the windows, piled high with snow, "we got to figure a way to get out of here to the woodpile. We're out of logs."
Sueanne looked at the empty place on the floor where the logs had been. A few beetles and a scrap or two of kindling was all that was left.
"I can't get out the door," Mike said, "I've tried it. I think I can get the window open – but I'm not sure, even then, I can get through. The snow is frozen almost to the top of the window."
He gripped the underside of the window frame and grunted as he pushed upward. The frame crackled but it didn't move.
Sueanne wrapped the blanket around her slender body and padded to the kitchen counter. She took a pot from the shelf. "Is there any water?"
"I've got a jerry jar full of water in the corner," Mike said, "it may have frozen."
There were specks of ice inside the plastic jug, but Sueanne poured out enough water to nearly fill the pan. She held the pan out to the flaming fire.
"Maybe warm water will un-stick it," she offered. "I used to be a girl scout."
Mike laughed out loud. "I'm glad to hear that. I need all the help that I can get."