A wife and mother wishes for some colour in her contented but somewhat dull life

A wife and mother wishes for some colour in her contented but somewhat dull life. She gets it. A fantasy of having sex with men half her age becomes more than just a fantasy, more than she hoped for, a lot more. Part one of a pleasant and friendly rape tale.

Often it’s the little things that change your life. Two lines of an old song, a trace of scent you all but forgot existed, a face in a crowd looking just like someone you knew and cared about… It sparks a thought, encourages a gesture, the little gears get in motion, the synapses start firing. The change is just an idea, weak, barely noticeable and unlikely to survive, but it snowballs on until there it is – a different life than the one you once knew. A new life, born of a small, insignificant seed.

Then again, some lives take much more work to change. In Susan’s case it took anger, desperation, impatience, stubbornness, alcohol and frustration, all cemented together through a string of bad decisions and wrong choices. Looking back on unfortunate events, it is often easy to say they could have been avoided with just slightly more attention to detail.

Susan will look back on the events of that night and what she will see is going to make her hate and despise herself. The hurt will pass, the shame may be suppressed, perhaps even forgotten, but the guilt will stay. Some changes are irreversible and this is exactly what Susan inflicted upon herself. There will be scars, oh, yes, there will be scars. It didn’t just happen, though, no. She brought it on. She was looking for it, she was asking for it. That much is clear to her. Susan isn’t stupid.

It doesn’t take a stupid woman to be frustrated with her life. It doesn’t take a stupid woman to be angry at her husband. Hell, it doesn’t take a stupid woman to imagine that one evening spent away from home, responsibility gauge turned off for the occasion, will somehow bring some colour into the grey. Not that grey becomes any easier to bear tomorrow.

No, the home, the kids, the church, the family weekends, the same commercials on every stupid TV channel, the same bed every night with the same words, gestures, foreplays, main courses, same moans and sighs, well rehearsed hundreds time over, they stay the same. The same problems, the same solutions, the birth and care machine running within the advertised parameters… Surely, there is no reason to complain? Either way, your warranty period is over and has been for a long time. No money back, no free drinks. Sorry.

Susan slammed the door behind her. Looking back on it, it makes so little sense. How childish is it to walk out of the family house, refusing to tell her husband where she will be or even when she will be back? Fuck him, she thought, let him wonder. He deserves it. An evening with the girls, that’s all he needs to know. Let him wonder whether those girls sport penises in their underwear.

Let him wonder whether those ‘girls’ will just have a few drinks, a few laughs and the obligatory few rounds of gossip, or whether they will fuck his pretty suburban wife, make her swallow some cock, come onto and into places he could never think of and perhaps even call her some names he’d never dare let pass his lips.

But anyway. That was not the plan. That was a passing thought in Susan’s head. A chuckle on a back seat of a taxi while riding to the café. My wife, a slut. Hahaha, now there’s an idea. Let him wonder, let the bastard hurt a little, let him feel threatened, insecure and humiliated. He knows that men like to look at his wife. Come on, he is not stupid, he can tell his wife is attractive, he can see men are attracted to her, despite her age, pregnancies, despite her suburban ennui, he can see the stares in restaurants, church, theatre.

Let him fry a little tonight. Let him wonder whether Susan’s had enough and whether she’s decided to accept one of those unspoken invitations. He could see the way she dressed, he could see the make up she put on. He could see the skirt she decided to wear was somewhat shorter than what usually passes for decency in soccer mom circles. He could see the cleavage that was suggesting more than just a friendly round of drinks with her female friends.

He could see the high heels that will no doubt turn heads of men around Susan and produce comments about her legs and behind. Let’s give the man his due – he is not stupid. And Susan knew he was not going to try to stop her go out dressed like that – that would not be in his rational, mild nature – but she also knew he would be worrying. Oh, yes, let him worry. Let him worry what happened to his wife so that she got dressed like a slut, refused to even speak to him respectfully on her way out and click-click-clicked on her high heels towards the taxi that awaited.

What her husband could not see was the face of a taxi driver in the rear view mirror. Nervous, quick glances framed by drops of sweat, glances hoping not to be noticed by the leggy passenger in the back seat and yet hoping to steal enough time so that the image of a tall, sexy woman riding towards her favourite café dressed like she is intending to make someone happy, remains firmly etched into the mind. Susan chuckled again.

Of course she noticed the driver was looking at her. He was young and not looking particularly clean. A few ideas and images passing through her head sent a pleasant impulse down her spine. Remembering that those same ideas, albeit probably in a censored form should be forming in her husband’s head at exactly the same time made her feel even better.

Dressing like a slut to piss your husband off is hardly a sin, or even a crime. It’s not even something one would call eminently stupid. Getting drunk is slightly higher on the list of stupid gestures but then again, sometimes we recognise despair only when we’re halfway to the oblivion. It’s just something people do. Those who haven’t been there may feel free to cast the first stone etc.

So, yes, she got comments from her friends. Yes, all three of them commented on her legs, her skirt, her cleavage, her make up, this is just something girls do. It doesn’t matter whether they are fourteen, sixteen, twenty five, or, as in this case, in their forties. This is a girl thing. Susan laughed and sipped her cocktails as her friends used the words like ‘foxy’, ‘minx’ and felt the pleasant tremors in her lower belly when the words jokingly changed into ‘slut’ and ‘fucktoy’.

It’s those moments when enjoying being sexy just because you are does wonders for one’s self-esteem. This is your fuel, Susan, it’ll keep you running for weeks, months, if you’re lucky. Cross your legs again, look at how sexy they look in black stockings, feel the fabric slither, hear the sound of your long, manicured fingernails produce absently scratching against your thigh.

Susan felt content. Being a woman, an attractive woman among other women who all acknowledged her looks and made very clear comments about her sex appeal is good. The only thing better is throwing some men in the mix, right?

Was it the third or fourth cocktail in when Mick and Shane joined the group of merry women at their table? Susan was not sure. The other thing she normally wouldn’t be sure about was the logic behind having two men barely half her age join the group of female friends chatting about their husbands, sons, jobs, TV shows and sex. Normally, that wouldn’t have happened at all.

Susan was surprised it did happen. Blame it on alcohol. Everybody would anyway. They did have quite a bit to drink, all of them, and they did channel their conversation into some kinky directions so far. Two young gentlemen approaching a bunch of ripe women (loud, somewhat indecent women, at that) politely asking whether they could join, pointing out at the crowded tables around them etc., well, that sounded logical at the moment.

If we are to throw any accusations at Susan, reliance on logic should be one of them. Dressing like a slut and getting drunk and somewhat foul-mouthed is one thing. Believing that there is an undercurrent pattern in the world that will protect people who fail to protect themselves is quite another. Every day spent on Earth means you learn a difficult lesson. Susan will just pay for the lesson considerably more than the usual fee.

Mick and Shane, both apparently of Irish origin (which may or may not account for the thin moustache of the former and the wild, curly hair of the latter) were apparently quick to assess the situation and adjust their tactics accordingly. Susan smiled in her mind. They were young and horny. They probably knew that they had no chance with a bunch of married women in their forties. But they decided to give their best under the circumstances. This is amusing, Susan thought, this is getting better and better.

It did get better. Or worse, depending on the perspective. Susan could notice Mick’s and Shane’s gazes repeatedly skim over her breasts, legs and face, in quick feverish bursts. Boys will be boys, apparently, she thought. She smiled again, this time not only in her mind. Let them have some more, why not?

Next time Mick’s eyes went downwards to get another shot of her long, slender legs she looked straight at him to show him she knew what was going on. Then she smiled (pre-emptying his possible reaction of panic and embarrassment) and crossed her legs, slowly, seductively, just for him.

He noticed. He couldn’t have not noticed. Everybody noticed anyway. Shane noticed it, and her friends noticed it. That should have made her feel self- conscious in a less than positive way but it didn’t. Instead, it made her feel sexier and sluttier than before. The evening just got nastier than she had hoped for. And it felt good.

Is there room for accusations here? Certainly, what Susan did crosses over into immoral territory? Then again, it just went on so naturally. As they say, one thing leads to another.

And another. And another. How many drinks were there in the end? Susan will not be able to tell. Not tomorrow, not ever. Either way, there will be more serious matters to occupy her mind. The things kept leading one to another with seamless ease worthy of a good pulp novel.

The conversation at the table gradually found itself confined in a triangle between Mick, Shane and Susan. The rest were locked out. Realistically, there wouldn’t be room for one more as sexual innuendo, of a subtle and less subtle kind, got passed between the three of them. Susan was looking at the men’s faces as they grew more and more aroused with her ambiguous suggestions, half-jokes and the way she kept changing the position in her seat.

They want to fuck me, she said to herself. They would like to strip me and fuck me right here if the circumstances allowed. They probably never hoped to find a woman my age here, looking the way I do, acting like a sex crazed whore, like I do. I am sure they both have raging hard-ons in their baggy, faux-military style trousers.

Susan crossed her legs once again, slowly, loving every second of it. Yes, just as they must have had erections, so were her panties wet with the excitement the evening provided. It was better than she had hoped for. She’d hoped for quick glances from men around her, perhaps a name or two thrown at her in the street by youths acting bold in front of their friends. That would have been enough.

What she got here was so much better, so much more arousing. Two young men drooling over her, a verbal fuck session just barely disguised as a café conversation between almost strangers. Susan loved it. She will go home soon enough. She will go home and tease her husband until she admits it was just a proper night with the girls. She would fuck him too. But if he is not ‘down’ with it (as Mick and Shane would put it), she had her vibrator ready. Oh, yes, that will be a perfect punchline to a good evening. An orgasm concluding hours of deeper and deeper arousal and shameless, hot flirting with strangers half her age.

Let us discuss guilt now. It wouldn’t exactly be true to say that Susan didn’t feel any guilt. After all, some of the things she said would make her blush quickly in any other situation. Some of the looks she directed at Mick and Shane would make her husband very angry if he were there to witness them. But, she thought, after all, this is just childish flirtation. There is no deeper meaning to any of this. I know that, they know that, there is no chapter two, no bad consequences. There is no harm in this.

If there is one thing that Susan takes away from this night, which she can use later in life, let’s hope it is the knowledge of harm. Harm is always there. Harm is always around, infinitely patient, just awaiting an invitation. Susan produced a king-size invitation, complete with golden print and calligraphic handwriting. No matter how drunk, horny and desperate one gets, accepting a ride home from a pair of total strangers usually sounds like a bad idea.

Susan usually knew bad ideas when she saw them. And, it is fair to say that she knew Mick and Shane offering to give her a ride home was a barely disguised suggestion of sex. She did refuse at first. Then they argued. More jokes. More innuendo. More pleasant tingling between her legs. These guys wanted her so bad. She could see the bulges in their trousers. Why not prolong the fantasy a bit longer? As long as she is in control, it will be fine.

Control. One thing Susan was not in control of was that pair of long, slender legs, dressed in those slutty stockings and those fuck-me shoes. She did accept Shane’s help in getting up and leaned on him on their way out. Her friends cheered. At least she thinks they did.

2.

Which part of town was this anyway? Susan’s head cleared a little. A tiny little bit. There are advantages to speeding after all, like the cool air that blew in her face through the window, making her less dizzy. She wasn’t sure how long the ride was taking though. Long enough to have to remove Mick’s hand from her shoulder twice so far. He was in a back seat, behind her and, yes, they both laughed about it. But now that she looked around, she started to wonder.

“What part of town is this anyway?” she asked, as if this was another in the line of jokes for tonight. All of them laughed. “Where are you taking me boys?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, eh?” Mick said from the back “Wouldn’t she like to know, eh, Shane, eh?

Shane laughed, nodding in approval.

“No, seriously,” started Susan. “I have to get home… once.” They all laughed at this but Susan thought the message she was sending might not be clear enough so she added “Seriously, my husband will be worried.” That was the first time she ever mentioned her husband this evening even though it was obvious from the start that she was married. She just thought that mentioning him will make them aware of the generation gap the social gap and everything else that seems to have been erased in the last couple of hours.

“Relax, ma’am” Shane said, turning a corner. “The hubby won’t have to worry for too long now.” He looked into the rear view mirror and stopped the car.

Once the engine was off, the silence in the car became strange. Neither Shane nor Mick said anything. Susan felt there was some kind of a change in the air. It couldn’t just have been the engine going off. The radio was still on, the insect chatter and bursts of tiny white noise.

“Where are we?” She didn’t like this any more. She didn’t like the fact that she didn’t even know what time it was. Perhaps drinking so much was not the brightest of ideas. There will be some headache tomorrow morning. Oh, yes.

“No, just relax, ma’am, seriously.” Shane spoke slowly, reassuringly. The street around the car looked rather deserted. “It’s cool. We’re at my place. I thought we could have another drink there, have a few more laughs and then we’ll take you home to your hubby and kids.”

Her kids?

They knew about her kids? She did mention her kids then. Oh, God. What else did she mention and failed to remember or even register? Susan, you stupid bitch.

You stupid bitch.

When guilt kicks in, full volume, three dimensions, life size it’s usually too late. Call it a glitch in the design of human beings.

“No, no, no”, Susan said, trying to give her voice a lightweight tone. “We had enough drinks and we had more than enough laughs.” Not showing your fear is usually good survival tactic. Isn’t it?

Not necessarily so. Not when you’ve already shown too much. The change has started. Susan’s life went down the wrong path. No turning back now.

“Ha ha, we had more than enough laughs, ha ha, you hear that Mickey?” Mick approved laughing like a maniac from the back seat. His hand fell to Susan’s shoulder once again. Susan jumped in her seat, trying to shake it off. She didn’t.

“I am serious! I have no time for this any more!” Susan’s voice was meant to be firm, mature, authoritative but even to her it sounded decidedly frightened. Don’t show them your fear, don’t.

“You have no time for this? You have no time for this any more?” Shane sounded genuinely surprised. A whole new concept was just demonstrated to him it seemed.

Susan tried putting all her age and dignity into her voice. “Please. Start the car now and take me home. I have to be with my family now.”

Shane started laughing. Then he started laughing even louder. Then Mick started laughing in a high-pitched, annoying voice. His hand wouldn’t let go of her shoulder.

“Stupid bitch. You’re such a stupid bitch.”

The words cut through Susan like shards of glass.

“So you think this can just end whenever it’s convenient for you, eh?” Suddenly, Shane’s voice sounded a lot more mature. “You think you just play with us and walk away when you’ve had enough?” Mick’s hand started playing with Susan’s hair. Susan started shivering.

“Shane, listen…” She couldn’t force herself to speak any louder than just an elevated whisper.

“No, you listen, you bitch!” Shane snapped back at her. “I don’t like bitches who think they are too good for us, you know?” Suddenly, Mick’s hand was not playing with her hair any more. Suddenly, his hand was holding a handful of her hair in a firm grip.

“I… I…” the words were not there. Not at the moment.

“No, really. You think you can just parade in front of us like that, eh? You dress like a slut, you speak like a slut, you act like a cock-hungry whore all evening and when the time comes to land a punch, suddenly Misses E. remembers she has a husband, whoa!!! That’s some bad attitude, ma’am, I don’t fucking like it one bit.”

Susan wanted to protest. She didn’t.

“What hurts my sensitive heart the most, though, is that you don’t care about our feelings at all!” Shane continued, unbuttoning his jacket.

“You think we are not hurt when you reject our polite invitation and act like we’re trash? You think we don’t have feelings?”

Susan felt something roll down her cheek. The she realised it was a tear Then another one followed. Her lower jaw was vibrating without control.

“Pl… please… please, just let me go… please.”

He’s just out to scare her. He’s just out to make her feel frightened and he’ll tell her that any time now. He’s just trying to scare her. For fun. For a laugh.

“Let you go? So you DO think our feelings towards you are without merit?” Shane turned to Mick. “Dude, does it strike you as unfair that this slut here basically begged us to fuck her brains out all evening and now she plays a faithful wife and a good mother?”

Mick nodded several times, trying to control a laugh “Yeah, yeah, if there ever was a bad hard to get act, this is it!! She deserves to have her shit sorted out. Good thing she ran into us, eh?”

Shane nodded approvingly. He unbuttoned his jacket and reached into the inner pocket. Then he made a quick gesture and his hand produced a metallic sound.

Susan was sober. Susan got sober in a mere second. Susan got sober instantly when the cold blade of Shane’s butterfly knife touched her temple. Susan closed her eyes, suddenly able to think straight and quickly. She was able to think quickly enough to know the list of her options just got very short.

“Oh God, no, please, please God no…” She repeated the words in a whisper as a meaningless mantra. Her eyelids wouldn’t keep the knife out of her eyes. They couldn’t even keep the tears in. Mick’s hand was pulling her hair backwards, making sure she is positioned nicely for Shane’s blade.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Shane asked. “You think you have a choice here? You think what, that we are going to argue with you? Negotiate? Geee, you’re dumber than I thought, lady.”

“And let me just add” Mick said enthusiastically, “that you looked like one dumb slut from the word go. I’ve never seen a bitch of your age act so shamelessly in public. Luckily, my good friend here and me agreed to teach you a lesson.”

“Please, please, please, no, please” Susan was shaking her head by mere millimetres, trying to avoid the blade entering her skin. Shane started unbuttoning his trousers. “Please, God, please, I have kids slightly younger than you, please, have heart, I can’t.”

“It’s funny that you remembered them now that you’re about to actually eat a cock, and that they apparently didn’t exist back in the café while you were doing your whore act.” Shane took his penis out of his trousers. “Now get down to business, slut, if you feel like keeping both eyes in your head rather than in your pockets.”

“God, no… please… have mercy, please, I can’t…” Susan looked at his erect penis and for some reason thought of her husband.

“Oh, you can’t?” Shane asked in mock surprise. “Let me encourage you a bit, slut!!!”

He pressed the blade against her skin harder. Susan felt the sharp pain. She let out a scared cry.

“No!!! Please! I’ll scream!!!”

Shane and Mick burst into spontaneous laughter.

“Aw, God, that was a good one”, Mick said, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. “She’ll scream! That’s a great one!!!”

“Look, Susan”, Shane said in a reasonable voice. “I believe you’ll find out that a woman screaming in the middle of the night in this neighbourhood attracts less attention than a fly on a horse’s ass. It’s not like you’re the first bitch I had to teach how to give head using my knife.”

He wasn’t lying. She knew he wasn’t. But… How did they think they’d get away with this? She asked the question between sobs. A pathetic little question of a victim trying to turn the tables on her captors. Again, she got roars of laughter as a response.

“No, I am telling you, dude, this one just has it all. She keeps fit, she dresses for pleasure AND she is fucking dumb to boot. A perfect woman!!!” Mick pulled her head back suddenly, violently.

“Listen, dumb cunt, how many people do you think were there in that café, eh? How many of them saw you act like a total slut all evening? How many of them said to their friends ‘Look at that whore, she is trying to fuck both those good looking young man at once. She should be ashamed of herself’? How many of them saw you walk out with us, laughing like a skank, hanging on Shane’s arm? Eh? What do you think, how will your story sound to those, shall I say, unwilling witnesses of your shameful behaviour?”

This was too much. Too much for Susan. She started crying uncontrollably, tears gushing forth, her throat hurting.

“OK, I just lost my patience, Susan” announced Shane. “Either you start giving Mr. pecker down there some well deserved lovin’, or I cut your eye out. Your choice, ma’am.” He pressed the knife against her skin once more. Susan felt the cut. She didn’t scream this time though. She let out a deep, painful moan.

“It’s a no contest, really,” said Mick. “You suck my friend’s cock and go back to your husband practically undamaged, or Shane pokes that pretty eye out, you then suck his cock and go home a cripple. I know what I’d choose. And I am not even gay!!!”

Both laughed and hi-fived each other. Shane increased the pressure. Roll the tape, defeat just entered the building.

Shane did remove the knife when Susan accepted his throbbing penis into her mouth. He didn’t do it as a sign of good will, though. That was so he could put both his hands at the back of her head and push her down as far as she would go. Susan gagged when his cock’s head brutally penetrated her throat. She never did it like this. Never like this.

“Gee, you’d think the bitch this old would have developed a more sophisticated fellatio technique. This is a total fucking embarrassment, Susan, do you hear me?” Shane stopped pushing her down for a second, and pulled her head back so she could look into his eyes. “Total embarrassment! Do you understand? Answer me!!”

The last sentence was yelled at her but Susan couldn’t quite cope with this. The only thoughts coming into her head were about how severely violated she was and how terribly frightening it felt. So the word she uttered was

“.no…”

Thukk!! Her cheek went red-hot. Shane slapped her again, with the back of his hand, one of his fingers hitting her eye, blinding her temporarily.

“That won’t do. I asked you a question bitch!! Do you understand?” He pulled her head up.

Sometimes playing along IS the best option. Isn’t it?

“Yes… Yes, I do…”

Thukk!! Slap! Slap! Slap!

Shane obviously enjoyed slapping her.

“Yes what? Eh? Yes what, bitch!”

Yes what?? What was that about? It is hard to think when you are being hit repeatedly.

“Yes… Yes… sir…”

“Awwww, Shane, she finally recognises you for a gentleman you are!!!” Mick’s voice was full of admiration. “You do have a way with ladies, that much I have to give you!!!”

“OK, we’re getting there slowly it seems.” Shane sounded pleased and stopped hitting her. “So let’s see, you are a total fucking embarrassment. You can’t suck cock to save your life. If you were sucking dick for money, you would be starving!!! Copy that?”

Susan learned.

“Yes… yes, sir, I understand. I am a lousy blow.”

“Excellent. We’re making progress!!” Shane adjusted his grip on her hair. “Now, see here, you’re in luck because I am willing to teach you. Not many skanky bitches your age get that chance, so you should be grateful.” He stopped there, apparently waiting for her reply.

“I… I am… grateful… sir…” Susan struggled. “for… for helping me learn…” Just as long as she doesn’t hit her again, she can keep herself under control.

“You should be!! You should be. Now, let us hear you ask me nicely to teach you how to suck cock properly.”

Both of them fell silent in expectation. Susan thought the time stood still too.

This is not real.

This is not happening.

How could THIS be happening?

Not to me.

Not to me.

No.

How can he be serious?

He will hit me again. My God, he will hit me and hurt me. Oh God, he will hurt me, he will hurt me.

“Please…”

Shane hit her.

More tears.

God, no…

“Please, sir…”

“Yes?” said Shane encouragingly.

“Please sir, please, teach me to suck cock. Please, I need to learn to suck dick well, so I can give you the pleasure you deserve.”

Shane turned to Mick triumphantly.

“See? See how it pays to be nice with women, my lad? We could have raped this bitch the old fashioned way, but isn’t it nicer now that we’ve all reached the same conclusion and work towards the same goal?”

“You know it is, big man!!!” Another hi-five slapped noisily.

“So now I am gonna turn this sorry excuse for a wife and mother into a decent cocksucker because she knows it will come in useful in her future career. Not to mention that her husband will be grateful.”

“You know, old boy, I wouldn’t be surprised if you start getting thank you notes from Mister E., perhaps even a Christmas card once in a while.”

“Right, right, right.” Shane decided to get down to business. “Let’s do it then. Since you asked so nicely, I should grant you your wish and show you what a good cocksucker you can be.”

It hurt.

Susan gagged as Shane kept ramming his swollen cock down her throat. Tears made her half blind as she was struggling for air. He would put it all in, pushing her head savagely down, then take it out, to rub her saliva and his precum all over her face. There was lots of it. The mixture of mucus was hanging from her face, staining his combat trousers and boxer shorts. Susan moaned in pain as he brutally pushed his cock deeper and deeper, but her moans were almost inaudible, blocked by his flesh.

“She still has a lot to learn,” said Shane, breathing heavily. “But we’re getting there, we’re definitely on our way. Open up. Open up wide, BITCH!!”

He slammed it back in savagely. Susan gagged. But he kept it in. Mick then leaned forwards from his seat, deciding to join the fun and games. One Shane’s hand was on her throat. Now Mick put his hand on the back of her head and pushed down. Shane grabbed her nostrils with his free hand and pressed them together. Suddenly, the small quantity of air available to Susan turned into none.

“This will increase everybody’s pleasure, I believe!” explained Mick.

Susan thrashed in her seat, blind panic, mortal fear, no sound save for terrified moaning, sound of an animal struggling for her life.

“Awww, ahhh, agghhh, man, aww, you should try this yourself!!!” Shane was ecstatic, “Oh, GOD, this is incredible!!!” Susan’s struggle for air ironically made her give him more pleasure than he was getting by merely fucking her throat. Just when she thought she will pass out, he pulled out and let go of her nose.

“Holy FUCK, man, I knew you’d be getting better, bitch, Old Shane’s lessons are always a success.” (Susan coughed uncontrollably) “Now let me see you do them balls.”

Susan complied. She kissed and sucked his hairy, swollen balls, listening to him moan from pleasure. Without warning, he grabbed her hair again and penetrated her throat. He used both hands to pull her head up and down at first (‘Awww, throat-fucking slut, you love this, don’t you?’) and then pressed her nostrils together again. She knew roughly what to expect this time around but that didn’t make it feel any better. The panic was back, the fear was back too. The humiliation never really left. The sounds of a man getting enormous pleasure from violating and humiliating her in front of his friend made her hate herself.

“You fucking cunt!!! You fucking, dirty slut!!! Awwwwww, man, she got me, she got me!!! I’m cumming!!!” Shane shouted like they were all alone in the whole world. “Aaargggh, take it, you whore, take it all you fucking bitch!!!”

If he’d ejaculated into her throat, Susan would have probably gagged worse than ever, perhaps even thrown up. Luckily, Shane, possibly influenced by ages old porno tradition, pulled out just in time and instead started shooting his cum into her face. If there was any pride left in Susan, and there wasn’t, she possibly could have felt proud about making a man cum so hard. Not that it was really her deed. He just used her mouth as a fuckhole and now he sprayed her face and hair with his semen, shouting all the time, getting cum into her eyes, into her nostrils… Once he was done he again brutally shoved his cock into her mouth.

“Clean it!!! Clean that fucking cock, you fucking no good, cheap slut!!!”

She complied. There wasn’t much will left in her after all. All she could think of was that he was finished. His penis was going limp in her mouth. It will be over. Soon, it’s all over.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, eh? Miss E.?”

Shane was sporting a wide grin on his face, the kind of a dumb smile men sometimes have after they have orgasmed.

“You will become a good cocksucker once, I can promise you that.”

Whatever. It’s over now. Please. Let it be over.

“Of course, my friend here would like to teach you a thing or two as well.”

God, oh God… She knew that was coming. She knew.

“But, Susan, I still think we should go with my original suggestion – go to my apartment and have that drink. How about it now?”

He emphasised the last sentence by raising the butterfly knife once again.

An invitation you can’t say no to. Mick opened his door.

“Awww, I’m gonna love this!!”

The building looked black and deserted. Mick opened Susan’s door.