Home invaders completely misjudge their victims.
"Are you going to rape my daughter?"
The question was understandable. We had her husband John Noble, Mr N, handcuffed to the oven, and her daughter Cassie (19, short skirt, leggings) handcuffed to the fridge in the kitchen. We had posed as policemen initially. I was DI Grant, my colleague was DS Miller. They all quickly realised we were nothing of the sort. We had dropped the pretence quite quickly when we realised that there was realistically no-one to oppose us. Mr N seemed to be almost an invalid. I had taken Mrs N, Marilyn, upstairs to one of the bedrooms. She was currently sitting on the floor, handcuffed to a radiator. I had taken her upstairs simply to separate her from her family, and create a sense of unease in them all. Husband and daughter had no idea what was going on up here, and that's the way I wanted it.
"Obviously, the thought had crossed our minds" I replied.
"Please don't do that" she said.
"Do you have any alternative suggestions?" I asked. "Is this where you do the motherly thing and offer to stand in for your daughter?"
"If you like" she replied. She seemed hopeful, but at the same time afraid that I might take her up on her offer.
"I would take some persuading" I said. "To state the obvious, your daughter is about nineteen, and you're, what, fifty?"
"She has no experience of sex. She wouldn't be any good to you. I've had more sex. I know what to do."
"You've had more sex? Well strictly I'm sure that's true. You've probably been having sex with your husband for the last thirty years. However, you seem to forget what young people are like. Sex isn't a big thing for them. I bet she's had more cocks in her tight little pussy than you've had in thirty years."
"Oh please, don't talk like that. I'd do anything you want. You know I would."
I said nothing, but thought for a while, considering what she was saying.
I said "In my limited experience of rape, and it is limited despite what you may think, you can get compliance, which means you can get what you want, but you never get any enthusiasm. Do you think you could deliver the enthusiasm that your daughter would obviously fail to deliver?"
"I would do my best" she said." If there's one thing I know, it's how to pretend that I'm having a good time."
That drew a chuckle from me. I thought for a while. "We would do this in the kitchen. I would give you the choreography, and you would have to deliver it exactly as I say. No variations, no ad libs. You wouldn't speak to your husband or your daughter. You wouldn't answer their questions - and they would have questions."
"Oh no, not in front of my daughter, please. Couldn't we do this up here, just the two of us?"
"But what about my mate?"
"He could come up here afterwards."
"Sorry, Mrs N. You'll have to deal with both of us, together. This would be a shock for your family. We want to shock them."
I gave her the details of what I wanted her to do. I was very precise about what she should do, where she should stand, and the sounds she should make. She had no dialogue. I got her to repeat the instructions back to me. I told her that any variation and we would strip her daughter in front of her. She was taken aback. I think she felt a weight of responsibility in what was to come. I left her in the bedroom while I went down to the kitchen to have a quiet word with my mate, so that he'd have some idea what was going down.
I went back up to bedroom, released her from the radiator, and took her back down to the kitchen.
Immediately we entered, the questions started. "Maz, are you OK?" "Mum, what did he do to you?"
Miller was sitting on the kitchen table, leaning back with his weight on his hands. Mrs N went up to him and briefly put her hand on his crotch. I saw his surprise, even though I'd told him what to expect. She stepped back away from him and, starting at the top, started undoing the buttons on her shirt. When she had them all, she pulled the shirt out of her jeans, undid the final button, and shucked it off her shoulders. She took off the shirt and discarded it onto the floor, standing there in her bra. Her husband and daughter couldn't help themselves. "Maz, what are you doing " "Mum, please don't do this". True to my instructions, she said nothing.
She kicked off her shoes, then loosened the belt at the waist of her jeans, undid the button and pulled down the zip. She pushed her jeans down over hips, to the point where they fell to the floor. She stepped out of them and kicked them aside. Now she was standing in bra and knickers. I had to admit, she looked good for her age. I would. In fact, I would very shortly.
She stepped back up to Miller, undid the button at the top of his trousers, and slid down the zip. She struggled to get inside his pants, and I heard her whisper. "Please." He helped her by pushing his trousers and pants down at his hips. She took out his cock and held it in both hands. I saw her transfer his cock to her right hand, while she cupped his balls in her left. The natural thing to do would be to get on her knees in front of him, but I had choreographed a different move, which she remembered. She stepped back away from him, and with her legs slightly apart, she bent from the waist, to bring her mouth down to his cock. Her breasts fell forward in her bra, and swung beneath her. Miller had the best view of her cleavage.
She put her left hand on the table to support herself, and held his cock in her right hand, pointing it at her lips. She slid her lips down over his cock. I could tell she was using her tongue on the back of his cock. He groaned. His cock stiffened, and she no longer had to hold it in to her mouth. She put her right hand on the table, and sucked him freehand.
She was delivering the performance I had worked out for her, and now she added the final touch. She started to make noises like she was eating the most delicious ice cream she had ever tasted. What a trooper!
It was my turn to get into the action. I took out my cock. With all that I had witnessed so far, It was as hard as I could wish. I noticed a bottle of olive oil on the kitchen worktop. I emptied some into the fingers of my right hand and generously but briefly lubricated my cock. I couldn't take too much of this. I found some kitchen roll to wipe my hand, and went and stood behind Marilyn or Maz as her husband had called her.. Her husband and her daughter were quiet at this point. They knew what was coming and were powerless to do anything to prevent it.
With both hands I grabbed her knickers at her waist, pulled them down over her bum, and left them halfway down her thighs. I took a moment to enjoy the sight of her pussy, but I really couldn't wait any longer. With my right hand I pushed the head of my cock between her pussy lips. I saw her tense at the intrusion, but I pushed the full length of my cock into her. She groaned. She stopped moving on Miller with the full length of his cock in her mouth. She now had two full cocks in her, and I could see that this wasn't lost on her, and neither was it lost on her husband or her daughter.
"You bastards!" said her husband. Her daughter had nothing to say. I put my hands on her hips, and partly thrust into her and partly pulled her onto my cock. She had resumed her ministrations on Miller, and now started to groan in satisfaction at each of my thrusts. She was supporting herself with hands on the table on each side of Miller's hips. Without this support she would never have been able to hold the position. I started thrusting at her, pulling back until my cock almost fell out of her, then thrusting back into her and giving her everything I had. Her breasts swung forward and back at each of my thrusts. She continued to groan, and I switched to shorter harder strokes, grunting with each thrust. I continued with this for some time, revelling in the delicious feeling her pussy was imparting to my cock. Eventually, I felt the come mount from my balls into my cock. I made my final thrust, squeezing and probably bruising her hips as I pushed as deep as possible and felt a full load of come race up my cock and dump itself into her. The spasms continued for some time and I felt my legs go slightly weak at the knees. I must have stayed in her for a full minute, getting the absolute most out of the feeling.
I withdrew, and wiped off my cock with more kitchen roll. Miller was still getting the treatment, but I could tell he needed more than her mouth. I looked at him, and nodded. He put his hand on Maz's head, stroking her hair. "Thanks, Mrs N. That was very nice, but that's enough for now."
She disengaged from him and stood up. I could see my come leaking down between her thighs. I gave her some kitchen roll, and watched as she wiped herself off. She had to put a wadge of kitchen roll between her lips, to get me out of her pussy. But I knew that I was still in there, deeper than she could reach. Miller said "Hands back on the table, Mrs N" She leant forward to comply. As soon as she did, he said "And now, elbows on the table please." She did this and remained there, with her knickers still at half mast, and her fanny in the air. Miller moved in behind her and inserted his saliva-coated cock. She groaned again, and he started his thrusts. I looked around the room, Her husband looked appalled. Her daughter, Cassie, looked disgusted. Miller had his hands on her hips and looked to be really enjoying fucking this woman. He put his left hand under her left hip, and I could tell he was finger fucking her, with three fingers rubbing her clit. This struck me as generous. It was more that I had done for her. She started to moan. Suddenly I saw her whole body become tense. She stiffened and froze, and cried out quite loudly as an orgasm ripped through her. This was enough for Miller, who dumped a second load of come into her pussy as the spasms still racked it.
Miller collapsed onto her, with his chest against her back, and stayed there. I doubt that he even noticed the difficult she had breathing. She was still panting quite strongly from her orgasm. Finally, he pushed himself up using his hands on the table. "Wow" he said. "Seems like we all had a good time." I had to agree. In fact, it occurred to me that we had a better time with the mother than we would have had with the daughter. Life plays tricks some times.