Sandy bit back the tears which threatened to blind her big brown eyes, and forced herself to sip the mild gin and tonic she had prepared for herself. Every few minutes, her eyes strayed to the clock, and it seemed to her as if the minutes just dragged by. Although the day had seemed to her an eternity, it was now nearly 8:30 in -the evening, and there was still no sign of Harry! What could have happened to him? She had asked herself that question a hundred times during the long day, and couldn’t bring herself to think of an answer. She had even called the police station again after lunch, but they had assured her that Harry left at 9:00 that morning. Where could he be? Beside her on the sofa, her handiwork lay discarded. She hadn’t been able to put more than a dozen stitches in it, first from excitement and then later from worry. Supposing something had happened to him? She couldn’t think of anyone to call, or anyone she could turn to. If only he 'd come home!
She jumped as if stung when she heard a car door slam outside, and hurrying over to the window, she peered out. Her heart leapt a somersault when she saw the gleam of their Palomino Gold Chevrolet in the driveway, and her worry and fear evaporated as if by magic. He was back!
Trembling with excitement, she flung open the front door of the apartment, and waited with bated breath as she heard his footsteps on the stairs.
She flung herself into his arms when he reached the landing, clinging to him, as if for life itself, sobbing helplessly into his shoulder.
“Oh Harry, I’m so glad you’re back… I was so worried…” she blubbered, unable to help herself.
“It’s all right, honey,” Harry soothed her, “everything’s all right now!”
He closed the apartment door behind them, and once more safe inside her home, some of Sandy’s self-possession returned to her. “You must be ravenous,” she suggested happily. “How about a drink while I fix a steak?”
“W-well, I’ll take a drink, but forget about uh… dinner!” Harry said, somewhat sheepishly, thinking about the delicious Steak au Poivre Ann had prepared for them both, accompanied by a huge green salad, and finished off with home-made lemon mousse.
“Are you sure you don’t want dinner? It won’t be-” Sandy continued to inquire.
“No, I’m telling you, I’m not hungry. But I sure could use a drink!”
Harry was sorry he’d snapped at Sandy when he saw the crestfallen look on her ashen face, and hastened to make amends.
“Maybe after that drink, I’ll feel like something,” he said placatingly, and Sandy seemed happier. After a few moments, she returned with a scotch on the rocks, which Harry always drank, and a fresh gin and tonic for herself. She settled herself very close to him on the sofa, as if getting strength from his mere presence.
“Was it terrible in jail?” she inquired, her face upturned to his. “Were you alone in the cell or-”
“Please, Sandy, I don’t want to talk about it!” Harry snapped again, unable to contain himself. To tell the truth, he’d hardly thought about his weekend in prison since he was released, the events following driving it completely out of his head. In fact, he had to admit to himself, that he was coming back down to earth, and with a loud, painful thud! The day had been one long orgy of incredible lovemaking with Ann, followed by that delicious meal and more lovemaking, until he thought he couldn’t move. Now, he had to face the cold reality of his life, Sandy, his apartment, his job tomorrow, and leave the glamor world of the Greens. What tweaked his conscience as well was the fact that Sandy had obviously been worried to death about him, while he had barely given her a thought all day. If she only knew… She wouldn’t be looking at him with such adoration. She’d despise him, probably never speak to him again… maybe even start divorce proceedings. And the worst of it was he’d deserve it, and more. What he’d done was unforgivable, and he could only hope and pray Sandy never found out. Guilt was eating at him like a hungry serpent, and his only hope was that his remorse didn’t show on his face.
“But where were you all day? I’ve been out of my mind with worry!” Sandy said plaintively, worried by her husband’s unusual reticence.
“For God’s sake, Sandy, stop nagging at me with your questions! Can’t you see I’m tired and in no mood for talking!”
“I… I only… I was so worried… “Sandy began, tears checking her mumbled words.
“Oh Christ, Sandy, must you carry on like this? Try and act like an adult, for once!”
The shocked hurt look on his wife’s face was like a punch in the jaw. All color drained from her face, and was replaced with a deathly pallor.
“Look Sandy, I… he began weakly, alarmed by what he had done.
“Don’t you ‘look Sandy’ me!” she retorted, anger mounting inside her. Deep hurt had blazed the way for a terrible fury.
“You walk in here, without an explanation, after getting out of jail at 9:00 this morning! Nine a.m.! What I’d like to know is where you spent the day, mister!” She had risen to her feet and was glaring at him, her hands on her hips in a typical defiant pose.
“And let me tell you that it’s none of your goddamned business!” Harry snarled, his anger mounting and overpacing the overwhelming fountain of his guilt. He hadn’t meant to be so bad-tempered with Sandy, but somehow, her angelic innocence and slightly martyred air irked him and seemed to show him in a blacker light than the already very dark reality.
“I was driven crazy with worry about you, imagining you in some dreadful trouble, while you’ve probably been out enjoying yourself, drinking, or something!” Sandy hurled, her body quivering with indignation, her soft brown eyes flashing with rage. Who did he think he was anyway, treating her as if she didn’t have a right to even nominal civility? Well, she’d had enough of being treated like a child! She’d show him she wasn’t one, not by a long shot, nor was she the doormat he thought she was, willing to be walked on whenever he felt like it.
“Don’t try your histrionics on me! I’m in no mood to listen to them!” Harry snapped, draining his glass. The strong drink seemed to make him dizzy, and he knew it was because of the several he’d had at Ann Green’s. He shouldn’t have accepted this one, he knew now.
“Well, I am in a mood to try them, and not before time!” Sandy blazed, ignoring the menacing note in her husband’s statement.
“Listen, Sandy, if you don’t shut up-” Harry began threateningly.
Sandy stared at him aghast, disbelief evident in her eyes. Was he actually threatening her? Oh God, that was too much!
“Oh, I hate you. You’ve no consideration for anyone but yourself, you selfish-”
Her invectives were suddenly silenced by the sharp stinging blow she received across her face. reddening her jaw, and making her reel from the pain. Harry had slapped her!…
Harry stared open-mouthed at his vulnerable young wife, unable to believe that he had actually struck her.
“Sandy, honey…” he began lamely, but was aghast to see her back away from him.
“Don’t come near me, you… you animal!” she warned, tears coursing down her face, disgust evident in her eyes.
Her epithet struck a deep, revengeful chord in Harry. Animal, was he? Well, he’d show her, with her prim demure ways. Always treating him as if he was some kind of coarse, vulgar brute. His guilt and newly-aroused anger stifled his reason, and he could only see himself as the hurt, abused one. Maybe… just Maybe… Jeff Green had been right when he had ass-fucked his wife Ann when she had gotten too smart for her own good… Maybe that’s exactly what Sandy needed too… Anyway, by God…
“Come here, you goddamned little bitch!” he snarled, reaching for his petrified wife and pulling her towards him. He could feel her trembling with fear and trepidation, and her terror increased his savagery. He’d teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget for a long time, he fumed inwardly, his brain a dazed drunken ferment of ill-feeling.
Roughly, he ground his mouth down on her helplessly quivering lips and kissed her cruelly, forcing her teeth apart and ramming his tongue far back down her throat. He could hear her gurgling piteously, and she desperately tried to struggle. With strength borne of desperation, she managed to free one hand, and without thinking, reached up and raked his cheek with her nails, gouging three red welts which were rapidly producing beads of blood.
Harry stared at her in disbelief, the pain stinging him into further fury. He couldn’t believe that she had actually scratched him, as if he was a brutish assailant and not her own husband.
“Now, by God…” he raged, his face turning purple, his eyes starting from his head in volcanic fury. His hands began tearing at her thin, wispy blouse, tearing it roughly from her shoulders, and the sight of her firmly rounded breasts, palpitating in their beige bra, goaded him on and he was surprised at the stirrings of lust which were awakening in him. Not that it mattered, he told himself bitterly, Miss Iceberg has never any time for anything like that!…
Distraught with fear, Sandy desperately tried to shield her breasts from his view, with an innate sense if modesty, but her action only enraged him more, and with a coarse oath, he ripped the flimsy bra open, tearing it away harshly from her trembling back.
“No, please don’t!” she pleaded, fearfully cupping her pert little breasts in her palms, her face white and wan. But Harry was not to be restrained, and with bestial callousness, he wrenched her hands away, and closed his mouth over one pink bursting nipple, sinking his teeth painfully into the soft flesh, making little indentations with his teeth.
“Ooooooohhh, stop, Harry, you’re hurting me…” Sandy sobbed, biting her lower lip to offset the dreadful pain in her breast. Still grasping her by the wrists, Harry began to drag away her corduroy miniskirt, flinging it on the floor, leaving her quivering there in her panties and sandals.
“Oh please, Harry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Sandy wailed, futilely trying to cling to her thin, wispy panties. But Harry was too strong, and savagely, he wrenched the brief panties away, exposing the fearfully quivering mound of her golden-thatched vagina. The sight of her lovely naked body incensed Harry beyond control. Spittle was drooling from the corners of his mouth and his eyes were dimmed from his lust and the liquor he had consumed all too readily, recollection of his wife’s cold response on too many occasions came back to his furious brain, and compared themselves fiendishly to the day of incredible sensual pleasure he had just spent with Ann.
With a snarl, he flung his wife down on the floor, and she sprawled against the sofa, hitting her head on the edge, dazed by the hard contact.
“Ooohhh please, Harry,” she began again, turning pleading, tear-filled eyes on her demented husband. But he was oblivious to her terror, and brutally tangling his hands in her soft blonde hair, thrust her face hard against the sofa, almost suffocating her as he squashed her nose and mouth against the roughness of the fabric.
She was cowering on hands and knees, and Harry’s eyes fell abruptly on the lovely curves of her satiny smooth buttocks, the ass-cheeks peach-soft and trembling with trepidation. His eyes remained glued on the enticing area, and he could just see the wetly shimmering pinkness of her pussy beneath the soft, milk-white flesh. Like a man in a daze, his hands reached out and grabbed at the doughy softness of the flaccid mounds, and began to convulsively knead at them, wringing cries of disgust and pain from his tortured wife. Her naked flesh felt buttery and warm beneath his touch as he eagerly spread apart the softly yielding cheeks and exposed the smooth trembling crevice closing protectively around the crinkled brown hole of her now fully exposed little anus. Beneath, the soft pussy flesh trembled visibly and he could see a few wisps of soft golden pubic curls. The flesh on her smooth inner thighs was moist and clammy and Harry knew that fear was making her perspire. But he felt no mercy towards his cringing wife. He felt nothing but a burning desire to avenge himself on her for all the nights of humiliation he had suffered when she had received him so coldly. His feelings were all the more acute for having had the comparison of the magnificent wife of Jeff Green, and his flesh still throbbed at the thought of her incomparable body and how she had used it to give him pleasure and more pleasure. It isn’t fair… why can ‘t I have a wife like that? he muttered childishly to himself as he wrenched his young bride’s soft, fearfully trembling ass-cheeks even further apart.
Sandy moaned again, and tried to struggle free, but her movements only seemed to incite her maddened husband and he forced her head further down into the rough material of the couch. Already her knees and neck were beginning to ache from the uncomfortable kneeling position, and she experienced nothing but a wish for his anger to abate and to be left alone. What did he have in mind for her? What was he going to do to her? Her mind thought numbly as she tried to figure out her husband’s intentions. Then all rational thought dispersed as she felt a staggering, paralyzing pain in her back passage.
‘Wwaaaarrrrgggghhhhhhhh…!!!“ she sobbed. She tried to move, but couldn’t and wondered if she was indeed paralyzed, but then the numbness eased and she felt the first really harsh throbbing of an almost unbearable pain. What was causing it? Tears coursed down her face and she wanted to look back, but couldn’t. Oh God, what was happening to her?
Harry was mesmerized by the effect of his brutal digital entry into his wife’s tight, virginal little asshole. It felt so tight and hot and close around his finger that for a moment he couldn’t move it at all, and then, pressing it slightly deeper, he began to rotate it lewdly around up inside her hot sinewy passage, sinking it further in all the time, until finally, it was imbedded all the way up to the first knuckle joint.
“Oh God, please… Oh Harry, no…” Sandy sobbed piteously, stricken by the terrible pain as she felt the intruder insinuate itself deeper into her sacred back passage. Harry continued to worm it forward, sinking it millimeter by millimeter, until finally, he had buried it to the hilt in the inner sanctum of her painfully stretched little rectum. Then fiendishly, he began to scour the abused channel, widening it and stretching it unmercifully wider.
Oh, heaven help me, Sandy’s brain cried silently, this is disgusting, it sick …
At last, she felt the perverted intruder begin to withdraw and Sandy felt something akin to relief when Harry finally pulled his finger completely out of her painfully stretched. rectum. Maybe now, hell come to his senses, and leave me alone, she prayed fervently, but in vain. She felt her husband’s hands once more clutching at her sorely bruised ass-cheeks, pulling them unbelievably far apart, straining the hidden crevice unmercifully. Then, to her horror and disbelief, she heard the rustle of clothing, the whir of a zipper, and then… she cringed back piteously as the hard, blood-filled head of her husband’s fully erect cock came into hard nudging contact with the cowering crevice of her naked backside. Desperately, she squirmed her buttocks around in a wild attempt to free herself, but Harry’s hands tightened even more painfully on her tormented flesh, holding her fast, as he guided his huge, pulsating hardness towards the small, cringing hole of her tightly clenched rectum. She could feel the smooth rubbery tip rubbing against the nakedly crinkled flesh of her anus, and she shrank back from the illicit contact. Oh God, what on earth was 1w going to do to her? This wasn’t her husband, this was some perverted madman that she didn’t know who held her in his power. There was nothing she could do! She was helpless, a slavish victim of his greater strength. The knowledge, the sure realization of her own helplessness drove the last desire to fight back from her resistance broken body. What was the use? She was his prisoner, and she had to submit to whatever bestiality he had in mind. It was no use fighting…
“Aaaaagggghhhhhh… Noooooooooo…” she wailed as she felt the relentless pressure of his giant cock as it tried to force entrance into the tiny cringing circle of her backside. She could hear her husband grunt behind her, feel his clutch tighten on her buttocks, feel the warm expulsion of his breath as he gathered his force again, preparing to surge forward one more time.
At last, the full realization of what her husband had in mind for her hit Sandy like a blast of icy wind, and her whole body experienced a shock so violent as though she had been struck by lightning. No! Oh God no! Not that … Her last beseeching thoughts were obliterated in the mighty onslaught of agony which possessed her then, as Harry, lust-demented and furious at his initial failure to penetrate the virgin anus of his wife, rammed forward with all his pent-up frustration and anger, and with a flesh-splitting lunge, was able to insert just the tip of the bulbously throbbing head into the ovally stretching lips of her rectal mouth.
‘‘Aaaarrrrggggghhhhhhhhhhmmmmmm…!!!“ Sandy’s piteous sob resounded through the living room and hung for a second in the depths of the high ceiling before shattering in a myriad of deafening screams around her own ears.
‘‘Pl e e e e e a a s s s s s e e e e e noooooooooo…” she wailed again and again as Harry, perspiration coursing down his face, desperately tried to force the rest of his angry cock past the tiny, bravely restricting sphincter. At last, the hard protuberance of the head of his pounding shaft was imbedded inside, and he had to stop for a moment, to get his breath before proceeding further on his sadistic journey. He had no idea his wife’s rectum would be so tight, even though he knew it was a cherry, and yet the feeling of hurting her deeply and physically in order to ravish her secret bowels appealed to him in his lustful, semi-drunken state. This’ll teach the little bitch… he murmured incoherently as he began to thrust forward again, forcing his thick heavy prick through the smooth rubbery walls of her tightly cringing rectum.
‘‘Aaaaaaaggghh! Aaaaagggghhhh! Aggggghhhhhh!” Sandy’s voice was a series of harsh, dry sobs now as her body gave itself over completely to the excruciating pain of being split asunder by the punishing weapon of her husband’s penis. Her mind was dazed, suspended in disbelief at the terrible crime her husband was perpetrating on her. She couldn’t believe it was the same man she promised to love, honor and obey on her wedding day. How could her husband compare to this drunken, bestial sadist who was kneeling behind her and having his disgusting way with her? Yes, unbelievably, it was the same man, and a sickening pain clutched at Sandy’s stomach. Nothing in her background had prepared her for anything remotely resembling an act like this. In fact, she didn’t know such perversities existed, which is why she didn’t realize until the very last minute, what was happening. God, she didn’t think she could hold her head up again after this. She was soiled forever… and it was Harry, her own husband, who did it to her! Tears of humiliation and shame coursed down her cheeks, and a depressing feeling of emptiness and vacuity overtook her.
Then, with an ominous, buttock flattening thud, Harry succeeded in sinking, to the hilt, every last inch of his punishing weapon in his wife’s tiny, abused anus, and he held it there, savoring his ultimate victory over her, his sperm bloated testicles brushing hotly against the quivering wet flesh of her trembling pussy below. Her rectal sheath was tight and hot around his throbbing cock, adding to the mounting sensations there, increasing his illicit pleasure. At first, he had had no clear idea of what he was going to do, but the sight of his wife’s soft, lovely buttocks and Jeff Green’s words to him earlier had instilled him with the idea of taking her there. Reason had played no part in his actions, and his mind and body were still keyed up by the sensual banquet on which they had feasted with Jeff’s wife. Now he had penetrated her there, bent her completely to his will, subjugated her entirely. This knowledge imbued him with new power, and at once, he began to withdraw, inch by torturous inch from her tightly unyielding passage. He could feel the webbed under-skin of his lust engorged penis grating hotly against the dry membranes of her rectum as he withdrew, and knew from the gasps of pain which issued from Sandy’s helplessly mewling lips that she felt it too.
When he had withdrawn all but the head of his prick, he began to surge forward again. His initial entry had stretched the passage somewhat, and he was able to fuck up inside her a little more easily this time.
“… hhhhhnnnnnnggggghhhhh…” Sandy gasped as he edged forward again.
“hhhhhmmmmmmmmnnnnnnnn…” she grunted as he continued to enter her, completely resigned to her depraved punishment. What was the use in fighting? There was nothing she could do, no way for her to escape her destiny as a woman, to be used, to be violated, to be abused…
Harry began to fuck rhythmically in and out of her now, each instroke becoming easier, as her weariness allowed her frightened muscles to relax, and her anal passage became lubricated with the heavy drops of semen which trickled prematurely from the glans opening at the tip of his excitedly seeping cock. He was buffeting cruelly against Sandy, forcing her face hard down into the sofa, lifting her knees up off the cushions from the fury of his slamming into her. Her spinal column was a fiery pole of pain, and it seemed to reach out to her fingers and toes and burn there with new intensity. Her only thought now was for it all to be over… so that she could forget it ever happened… if that was possible.
The tempo of her husband’s ass-fucking was increasing, and he was grunting freely, low animal mewls of pleasure as he screwed mindlessly into his wife’s now widely stretched rectum. His fingers left red welts on her soft flesh buttocks, and her breasts felt bruised and sore from their crazy jiggling as her body jerked and rocked crazily from Harry’s wild thrusting from behind.
“Move that proud little ass of yours, baby!” Harry snapped with newfound viciousness, “put some life into it!” Sandy tried feebly to obey, but her aching body was beyond command now, and she just hoped that he wouldn’t notice. She knew that he was approaching orgasm, and he was like a rutting goat, panting and thrusting savagely into her bowels with no thought for anything but his own pleasure and the emptying of his sperm into the slavishly kneeling receptacle of her body that he just happened to be using for the moment.
Then, Sandy could feel him stiffen, his body tightening like a bowstring, and then she cried aloud with new pain as he slammed into her with new demonic fury, almost breaking her back as he began to spew the lewd offering of his heated male sperm deep up into her forever stretched rectum.
“Oh Christ, I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” he wailed as he began to spurt hot, white liquid into the darkness of her rubberily giving anal depths, searing the tender membrane, adding further to her agony as he pumped without letup into her helplessly flooded little belly, his balls, squirming and churning as they drained themselves completely of their life-giving liquid. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he slumped over her, his now useless and limp penis slipping easily from her wet, sperm-drenched anus, and she farted slightly, feeling some welcome relief from the torturous pressure in her stomach. Her head was spinning, and her whole body ached with something more than physical agony. She felt weary, debased, soiled completely. He had violated her secret place, a lewd perverted act… she could never forgive him. She looked around the room, somehow gaining reassurance from the familiar surroundings. Harry was like a stranger to her, but at least home seemed the same. Her tear-filled eyes alighted on her discarded wall decoration, now rumpled and creased, and the letters of the motto she had been stitching seemed to leap teasingly into life before her eyes, “A MAN’S HOME IS HIS CASTLE”. Oh God, she wept helplessly, everything was geared towards men. They get their own way in everything, including with women! It’s not fair! It’s not fair! But I’ll pay him back… Oh God, I’ll make him suffer for treating me like this.