"What am I supposed to do now? I let that bastard rape me, then I joined-in and asked for more." A disheartened Sandee sat at her kitchen table and poured vodka into her glass. She whimpered softly with each swallow, envisioning how she had also choked-down the semen that had flowed so swiftly down her throat.
Just five short hours ago she had been dressed in a pretty, sexy outfit interviewing for what she hoped, would be a life-changing new job where she would no longer have to hustle for tips. Well, she got the job, and it will certainly be life-altering!
Her land lord and new boss had set a trap for her and she fell right in. Four hours ago, she was sitting on a couch in Joe Moretti's office, her beautiful clothes torn from her delicate shivering body and dried cum caking on her face and belly. After letting this monster seduce and ravish her, she compounded the disgrace by somehow agreeing to become his mistress. With each sip of her drink, she could taste the salty essence of his discharge and picture the image of herself bent over the back of his sofa with his enormous cock jabbing away at her compliant, virginal ass.
She could only thank her stars that her teenage daughter was in bed when she came home. Sandee bought a new outfit to present to Rachel, with a note saying that she spilled coffee on her skirt and blouse out of nervousness, but that she got the job that her daughter helped her to attain. In the morning, she would make an excuse about not wanting to be late, and worry about explaining the situation later.
For right now, she could only replay in her mind what had happened. For some as yet unknown reason, every disgusting memory of that degrading, humiliating experience, is tempered with a titillating twinge of pleasure. It seems impossible to believe, but some dark fantasy having laid dormant, has now sprung to life in her mind. Even at this moment her vagina tingled at the memory of sitting in Joey's lap, his engorged meat filling her quivering pussy and his stubby, meaty hands pawing at her pointy, pink nipples. She squirmed in her seat, still feeling the powerful thrusts of his gigantic tool when he plowed relentlessly into her bouncing anus. And most of all, as she filled the glass again, she could not drown out her own words when she pleaded, "fuck me again, Joey, I'm your whore now, treat me like one!"
She had trudged out of his office three hours ago, wearing sweatpants and a long sweater, supplied by his secretary. Her shiny blonde hair was a rats nest, and raw, red, rug-burns were scraping her knees. She walked unsteadily like she just got off a horse, or more like a horse just got off, on her. And most shamefully of all; she groveled at his feet, begged like a slut and then thanked him for helping her, promising that she would "work" for him now and suck his big cock in the morning.
She passed a discount store and bought replacement clothes for Rachel then stopped in a liquor store and grabbed two bottles of booze. But sitting at her cheap Formica table, her butt reminding her what it had experienced, she could not escape the memory of that "interview." What could possibly have made me say those things, she wondered. "I actually told that animal that I love his cock. I let him grope my breasts while I told him how much I need the taste of his hot cum. What kind of cheap, sleazy whore have I become?" She was stunned at what had taken place with this former Catholic-School girl.
"Am I really going to stroll into that office tomorrow, past his glaring secretary- she must know what happened- and let that mother-fucker have his way with me, again?" I know that he's going to make me strip for him. He said he wants me naked when I'm blowing him, he likes to see my breasts bounce when I suck him. He told me that first thing, I should bring him coffee and then start to undress. Once I'm nude, I am to pull out his cock and stroke it until it's hard, then kiss it from balls to tip. When he's rigid, I'm then to take him in my mouth and suck him like a lollypop. As I'm doing that, he wants me to rub my clit and tell him how horny I am. This is frightening. She tried to sound angry and hurt but, her brain was swimming with erotic images of lust. Her loins ached and her swollen breasts were yearning to be kissed and squeezed.
As she played the scene in her head, her fingers were absently toying with the moistening folds of her pussy. Her other hand loosely tugged at the perky nipples protruding from the thin tee shirt she was wearing. She could imagine the huge, helmeted head in her mouth and almost taste the tangy, sticky cream at the back of her throat. She slumped in her chair as she poked two fingers inside her soaking wet gash. Sandee managed to ease her trousers down to her ankles and ramp-up the assault on her own twat with her right hand. She began to breathe heavily and haltingly. Soon she was moaning at an ever-deeper pitch. Her long, slippery fingers continued to explore her lusty chasm and with the saliva-coated tips of her left hand she pinched and pulled her straining nipples. The very thought of this ogre molesting her should have been horrible. Instead, her body writhed with desire. She felt a tremendous orgasm mounting in her midst. She could vision herself naked and supplicant to his wishes.
From the next room, Rachel was jarred from a restless slumber. Her ears attuned to the normal sounds of the apartment, she now heard a low, ghostly murmur. She saw a light coming from the kitchen and supposed it was her mother gently sobbing over a job she did not get. Quietly, not wanting to intrude, she stole over to the door just to make sure that her mom was okay. It took a moment for her sleepy eyes to make sense of the surroundings. Sandee was nearly nude, reclining on a kitchen chair, writhing heatedly as she drove two sopping digits repeatedly into her gaping snatch. Her mother's lewd pussy was directly infront of her, seeming to entrance her.
She heard her mother utter something about being a slut and a sex-slave. She was hypnotized at the debauchery playing-out before her bright blue eyes. Sandee was no longer aware of the deep, sultry moans escaping her desperate lips. Her eyes were shut tight and her legs splayed wide apart, almost calling to her stunned, young daughter. Her wispy, honey-blonde pubic hair was soaked and glistening. Her fingers danced in and out, rhythmically squishing a soggy beat, stopping only to lap at the juices dripping from her palm to her elbow.
Rachel stood in her tracks dumbfounded. She knew her mother was lonely for companionship, and obviously missing the pleasures of intimacy. But to see her mom so obscenely unaware, and to witness her lustful masturbation right at the kitchen table, was both unseemly and incestuously erotic. Rachel seemed to understand that she would have a difficult challenge in letting this image fade. And as often as she had seen her mother in various stages of undress, the sight of her flagrantly playing with herself, and apparently fantasizing about being someone's sex-slave, was triggering a pleasant, pulsing tingle in her own pussy. Sandee's big, heavy tits were much larger than her own. And they swayed and shook with each stroke. They looked so inviting and delicious. Her mom's fingers worked like a piston engine revved to high speed. Rachel's own fingers had worked their way into her own little panties and now she too, was playing with her snatch. Rachel needed to sneak back to her bed and reach for the trusty vibrator that awaited in her bedside drawer. Her mom needed and deserved her privacy though Rachel dearly desired to watch, and finger herself as she did. But she would content herself with the erotic image she had seen and the idea of what may be happening in the very next room. Her mother suddenly seemed hot and sexy, and it was damned tempting to walk into that kitchen and see how she would react. How they both might act. For now though; vibrator, fantasy, fingers.
For her part, Sandee was blissfully unaware that an incestuous voyeur was only a few feet away. She would never have imagined that her eighteen year old daughter could be showing latent bi-sexual feelings while spying her mother pleasing herself, and infact would take that fantasy under the sheets with her and dream of other scenarios.
Sandee's mind could not erase the sights and sound of this afternoon. She pictured and could almost feel, the presence of her new Master. Joey Moretti was still tugging at her ash-blonde locks. His mammoth tool was balls-deep in her tight ass, while he spanked her fleshy rear-end and demanded that she beg for more. She was told to spread his first jolt of semen, which he had deposited on her large breasts, all over those jiggly tits. Her hands swept the gobs of milky liquid he had erupted on her chest, onto the tops of her mounds and swirled it around her glistening nipples. She was further instructed to scoop the remainder with her fingers and lick it off. This degrading order worked to inflame her obsession.
She could feel her bare ass squirm on the chair, trying to find a soft spot, a reminder of how he had tunneled into her constricted orifice. Something about these forbidden images caused her vagina to quake and a stream of thick, viscous liquid oozed down her thighs. How many orgasms had she experienced today? What about this sordid affair excited her so much? This taboo reverie was only broken by a distant sound. Possibly her daughter turning over in her bed. Sandee instantly grabbed her rumpled clothing and doused the light. She crawled into the comfort and security of her bed, aware that the morning would shed some light on these disparate feelings.
