Wanda turned and ran back to the car as soon as she saw Wilma's first shiver of approaching release. She could not stand to watch her stuffy, frigid twin sister enjoy sex for probably the first time in her life.
Just the thought of her husband's huge dick thrilling her twin's musty cunt made her own dripping hole seethe with envy. No amount of finger fucking would satisfy her now. Wanda had to have a cock.
A lewd grin curled her lips as she ground the starter of Wilma's car. Wilma's husband Ralph would be waiting at home, probably jacking himself off.
She'd always wondered about Ralph, how he could stand being married to a stubborn cunt like Wilma. Of course that would change now. After the fucking Jack had given her, Wilma would be hungry for more. Poor Ralph probably wasn't ready for that.
Wanda's warped grin pulled tight as she jammed the car into gear. She'd decided to help herself and him too… by pretending to be Wilma for the rest of the night.
"Wilma, is that you?" Ralph called from their bedroom at the back of the house.
"Yes, dear." Wanda had made a lot of noise searching for the right key and unlocking the unfamiliar door. Then she almost fell over a fucking chair that was not where she expected it to be. Until tonight, Wilma's greatest pleasure in life came from rearranging the living-room furniture.
Wanda's hand thumped against the wall, searching in vain for a switch to turn on the light in the hall.
"What's the matter?" Ralph shouted gruffly. "It sounds like you're drunk!"
He was angry because all her racket had spoiled a beautiful dream. In the misty visions that came with restless sleep, Ralph had dreamed he had Wilma strapped to the bed her arms pulled tight and helplessly bound, her unwilling legs spread wide and waiting for the huge swelling of his frustrated cock. That was the only way he'd ever enjoyed sex with her… in cruel dreams of bondage.
His cock still ached and burned from the stress of his lewd desire. In joyous dreams he held her captive, he raped her time and time again, riding her and breaking her in the way a cowhand would break a wild horse, until she submitted willingly.
But only in dreams did he experience such pleasure, and now the clumsy hag had awakened him with her noisy stumbling and spoiled that.
"For Christ's sake… can't you even stand up?" He'd heard her crash twice against the wall.
"I'm fine, dear… just taking off my dress." Wanda's urgent desire to strip her aching body naked and the frantic trembling of her legs caused her to stumble as she shed the tatters of her ruined dress.
"Now what are you doing?" He could hear her in the bathroom, still crashing and banging, and Ralph was anxious to get back to sleep… to continue his lewd dream of his wife in bondage.
"I'm just getting ready for bed," Wanda called. "I'll be with you in a sec."
"Oh, shit!" Ralph groaned half under his breath. He knew all too well how his wife got ready for bed – first winding her long hair in metal curlers as inviting to touch as a barbed wire fence, then spraying the whole mess with shit that smelled like paint remover.
Wanda smiled and preened before the mirror, brushing the tangles from her silky, sable brown hair, stroking it until it gleamed and flashed and matched the look of desire blazing in her anxious eyes.
She'd always wondered about Ralph's cock how big it was, how hard it would get if her hands and her aching cunt were to close around it in ways that Wilma never would. Wanda smiled back at her seductive reflection in the mirror, fondling her anxious tits until their wine-red nipples bulged with seething desire.
Wanda decided to leave her high heels on and her black-net stockings held by lacy garter belts. Of course she knew the Wilma would never do anything so enticing. She even brushed her cunt hair until it gleamed soft and dark, as luxurious as mink.
Ralph lay on his side in their bed, idly flipping the pages of a thick, leather bound book about banking and investment law, hoping he could bore himself back to sleep before his dreary wife came into the room. He wanted to return to the bliss of his forbidden dream.
But the heavy scent of the leather that bound the book fanned the smoldering heat of his imagination. His cock swelled even harder than it had in delightful fantasy. He curved his hand around the aching shaft of his neglected manhood and beat on it like a jungle drum.
"Ralph!" Wanda gasped in imitation of her sister's prudish voice. "What are you doing?"
The slap of his anxious hand on his jizz-swollen cock had kept him from hearing the soft click of her high heels. Without even looking around, he said, "I'm flogging my fucking cock."
"Huuunh?" Wanda gasped, in imitation of her sister's voice. Then Wanda gulped down the sound of her own lusty desire. Somehow she had imagined Ralph to have a withered little prick, bent and red like a rusty nail. She had thought that she would have to tempt him to make his cock swell, tease and suck to make his prick strain.
What she saw in the grasp of his blurring hand was a heaving shaft, rough-barked with blue veins, long and hard as a log of solid oak. "Is-is that big fucker all for me?" she gasped.
Ralph glanced toward the door and his beating hand stopped abruptly. Not even in his dreams did Wilma look so enticing. Her nipples bulged thick and ripe with desire. Her cunt hair sheened with damp desire. His throbbing cock gave a heave.
"Wilma? Wilma, is that you?"
He couldn't believe it. It was his wife coming through the door, her face, her figure but Wilma usually wore a long, thick flannel nightgown that fit like a sack.
"It's me," Wanda replied. Her intense gaze had locked on his twitching, jerking cock. The sight of his prick, so restless and eager, almost bursting with desire… it made her pussy squirm with convulsions of need.
"What-what happened to you?" he asked in a quaking voice.
Wanda thought he meant her marks of bondage and welts from the whip. Though the pain of what Fred James did to her had cooled she carried raw, red reminders of his lust.
"Er, well – the party got pretty rough," she said. Ralph hadn't even noticed. His brooding eyes flashed between her dripping cunt slit and the heated swelling of her proud nipples. All he wondered was what had suddenly turned on his stuffy, prudish wife. He noticed the marks of bondage for the first time when she paused by the edge of the bed, her eyes still locked on his aging cock, idly stroking a chafed wrist.
"What do you mean… rough?" He caught the scent of her cunt as he questioned her, a sultry mix of slick oil and thick jism.
"Mr. James… he chained me to the wall."
"Really?" Ralph wasn't as surprised as be sounded. A man as wealthy and powerful as Fred James could hardly take a shit without starting rumors. Especially in the business world. Ralph had heard same wild things about him, remarks and questions whispered behind sly smiles.
"Then he used a whip to rip my clothes," Wanda said, pleased by the way her words made his cock leap, bulging red and bright in his grasping hand.
"You're kidding!" But Ralph knew she was not. He could see the web of welts on her tender white flesh.
"He did… and then he raped me."
"No!" Ralph only pretended shock. He'd half expected it might happen. He'd actually hoped the whispered rumors were all true… that Wilma would go to the big fancy house on the hill and get the shock of her life. He'd thought it might change her for the better, and obviously it had. She was wetting her lips with a flicking tongue, watching the way his hand glided so smoothly up and down the heated shaft of his cock.
"Yes!" Wanda insisted in imitation of Wilma's stubborn voice. "He did. It was awful at first, locked in those heavy chains, seeing his huge cock…" Ralph stirred and beat faster on his own long prick. "…he had me chained, I couldn't help it. Ooooo!" She cringed, remembering the thick, knobbed handle of the whip ramming up her ass. "It was awful, all he did, but then, then I started to like it."
"You did? You liked it?"
She nodded meekly smiling warmly at the way her confession swelled the straining power of Ralph's long prick. Wanda could not help wondering how he'd react if Ralph knew his wife was still in bondage, being thrilled by the power of Jack's cock.
"He-he made me do things I never thought I'd do."
"Like what?" Ralph felt a sudden jealous twinge. Damn that fucking Fred James!
"…like this," Wanda said. Then she bent down, dropping to her knees by the edge of the bed and kissed the head of Ralph's hand-whipped dick.
"Uuuugh!" he groaned in heated shock. Her lips closed ever his cock head like a sleek wet sponge, pulsing and churning with freshly awakened desire. "Aaaaah!"
"Like that Ralph and more. Much more!"
"You bitch!" he roared unexpectedly.
Wanda slid her lips down his cock shaft, moving his hand away so that he could suck in his full prick length and grind her teeth in the thick mat of hair at its root.
"Fuck!" he gasped, stunned by the hungry of her lips and swirling waves of throat muscle that closed around his aching cock head. "You left here as an icy-assed prude, and you come home a cocksucking whore!"
"But, I am home," she reminded him, smiling as she closed her lips again and wiggled back up the shaft of his throbbing cock. She could feel it swell with what she felt were throbs of envy, and she longed to tell him that Wilma wasn't home yet that right now she was bound and begging for Jack's cock.
"There's something else you should know…" she said in a teasing tone. Her lips slipped off the ruddy knob of his cock, and she flicked at his straining cum slit with her tongue.
"Yeah, and I'm going to find out – find out if you like getting your cunt fucked here as much as you did in that fancy place up on the hill."
"Ooooh!" Wanda moaned in surprise.
Ralph grabbed her long hair, tangling it in a silky snarl inside one huge fist. He jerked her head back and glared into her startled eyes.
"I don't have a secret room fixed up like a fucking dungeon, but…"
"How-how come you know about that?"
"I hear things at the bank. Fred James and his company do a lot of business there."
"Oh, I see."
"You haven't seen anything yet, you cock craving cunt!"
He yanked on her sable hair and threw her facedown on the bed beside him.
Wanda yelped. She'd expected Ralph to be so timid and shy.
"I don't have heavy chains set in stone either. But I do have this fucking piece of dreary shit!" He grabbed Wilma's bulky, old-fashioned nightgown from under her pillow and started ripping it into four long strips.
"What? What are you doing?"
Ralph threw down the four strips of heavy flannel and wadded what was left into a ball. "First thing. I'm going to stuff your fucking mouth so I don't have to hear any more shit about Fred James and his magic pecker!"
"Mmmungh!" Wanda groaned as he gagged her mouth. He stuffed her wet mouth with the dry cloth and knotted some that was left behind her head. Wanda thrashed, spearing at the choking wad with her tongue, but she could not drive it out. She bucked from jolts of instinctive fear.
Ralph laughed and slapped her ass with the heavy, leather-bound book he'd been looking at when she came in. Wanda moaned.
"I don't have a whip either," he said in a mocking tone of apology. "But don't worry, I'll think of something to satisfy your ass!"
"Unnh?" Wanda gulped. It didn't seem possible that it could all be starting again. She arched strongly and tried to roll off the bed, both hands pawing at the gag stuffed cruelly in her mouth.
"Lie down, you fucking slut you can't have changed your mind already!"
He slapped her ass with the heavy book again. Then Ralph threw a strong leg across her upraised back, straddling her and forcing her down flat. He grunted as he dropped his weight on her writhing ass. "For once I'm going to like seeing you wear your fucking flannel sack!"
He grabbed one long strip of cloth, twisted it like a rope and knotted it around her wrist. It felt soft against her arm until he pulled the knot tight. He laughed at her muffled howl of protest and lashed her wrist the head post of the bed.
"Uuuugh! Unnngh!" Wanda kicked, drumming her feet futilely on the bed as he grabbed her other arm, stretched it to the far side and tied it tightly. "Ungh! Uummph!"
Wanda felt an agonizing strain in her shoulder muscles as he jerked on her arms, spreading them wide and knotting them securely. For its strength, the twisted flannel could have been steel. Wanda could hardly move above the waist.
Ralph whirled around then, still astride her, forcing her bucking ass down on the bed, but now he faced her kicking feet. His hot cock wedged into the crack of her ass, still red and puffed from the smack of the thick book. Wanda gasped in a muffled voice of fear. He caught one kicking leg and held it in his powerful hands. Looping the cloth around her sleek ankle. Wanda cringed, shocked by it all. She'd thought Ralph would be weak and soft from years of sitting behind a desk at the bank.
Ralph felt the tension of her surprise. Despite the approach of middle age and a soft job at the bank, he worked at keeping fit. He needed strength and endurance to satisfy women like the young red haired teller. Never did he think his power would be tested at home with his own wife.
Wanda kicked like a mule with the one leg she had free. He'd knotted the other to the foot of the bed, taking grim satisfaction in the way she wailed as he tugged the knot tight.
"Ha!" he roared, grabbing her other leg.
She thrashed beneath him, grinding up with her ass to stroke the shaft of his cock in the soft valley between her creamy cheeks. He looped the cloth and dragged her leg down with the trailing end of her tattered nightgown.
"That ugly piece of shit never looked better!" he said as he tied the frayed end.
Wanda trembled nervously, arms and legs spread wide and tightly bound, haunted more by fear of the unexpected than by the chilling reality of restraint. Her trembling increased the surging rhythm of his cock throb. He'd thought that after being ravaged and humiliated in chains by Fred James that she might submit humbly to his lewd desires. That would have ruined his dream coming true. Struggled with the thrill of his wild imaginings and she was fiercely fighting back, even though she could barely move.
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.