Ethel's mind went blank for a few minutes. The shock of finding strange men in her house watching her do that awful thing with the broom was too much. I must have passed out, she thought opening her eyes.
But it was not a bad dream because the hairy faces were staring at her. And that awful broom handle was wedged tightly up her cunt hole.
The puckered labia ached from clutching. Ethel felt terribly humiliated, and she was scared shitless, too. Are they robbers? she thought, glancing from one figure to the next. They were all grinning like schoolboys, their lips pulled back in devilish smiles. Ethel groaned silently to herself. She wished she had not opened her eyes. She wanted to crawl into bed and forget this whole night. There were sleeping pills on the counter. If she could get into the bedroom and down a handful of the pills everything would be all right. Sleep would engulf her and carry her mind away from the sickness and depravity and humiliation that hung thick and close to her sweltering body like a funeral shroud. But first the pain between her legs had to be tended to. Forcing back the tears, she rose up, grabbed, the stout length of fuck pipe, and pulled it free of her cunt.
The congealing white sperm dried on her tits, but there wasn't anything Ethel could do about that now. She turned and faced the circle of men. Her stomach fluttered with dread. It was fear – it burned in her chest like an evil thing!
She forced her mind to function. If they were thieves, then either of two things would have happened. They would have been tearing the house apart looking for the valuables to cart off, or they would have been scared away when discovering the house was occupied.
But these boys with the blond matted hair like rampant weeds just stood there. She couldn't read expressions, but these ragged, ill-kempt persons, these wilted flower children, obviously had more in mind than looting.
It was obvious. And she shuddered at the thought. It was awful. For the first time in a long, long time she wished her husband were here. Biff would know what to do. He would protect her from these bastards.
These men wanted Ethel. And she quelled another sob. She was such a terrible slut that maybe she deserved this punishment. It was a terrible thought, one that she forced immediately from her mind.
But they wanted her. And there was nothing Ethel could do except open her thighs to these bastards and hope they didn't hurt her cunt hole too bad.
Fred wobbled like an old wino trying to make it to the Rescue Mission. His droopy cock burned from jerking off. The small pool of glistening sperm shone like a mirror on her breast.
This broad is beautiful, he thought. Why the hell is her old man down fucking some silly cunt in the bathroom when there is this nice snatch waiting for him at home?
There was something wrong with marriage, he thought pensively. Contented broads don't stick broom handles up their cunts. He flipped his dong back inside his bathing suit. His head reeled from drugs. He was all screwed up. Maybe they should loot the house first. Just a quick glance around told him there were plenty of valuable things worth stealing.
But what about the girl? Her cunt smelled of perfume and ripeness and she was very willing to have fun. Shit, she hadn't moved or made a sound or moved a muscle except to pop that old broom from her snatch.
But the house had to go. That was the primary mission, to burn, the house down.
Tod, a young weirdo from New Orleans tapped him on the shoulder. "Man, I'm horny as hell," he said. His hand was tucked inside his swimsuit, jerking his prick into a nice, big hard-on. "Let me fuck her. Oh, I could really dig on this old broad. Those big tits set me off!"
He wasn't the only one of the group that wanted a piece of Ethel's poontang. And the longer they stood around smelling the odor of sex drifting up from her cunt, the hornier they got.
The path was clear.
They would gang-bang Ethel and then torch the house. Fred clearly got the picture. Fucking the old lady a hundred different ways was the only course of action left open to them.
Ethel was also coming around. She had been shocked senseless, but the effect was wearing off and the shock was replaced by numbness. She couldn't move a muscle. Lying on the floor, her cunt juice oozing in a steady trickle from her slit, she felt awful. But she had no choice. Her body would not respond. So she lay back and pretended her husband was rising above her as he had that single night they fucked so well. She shivered with pleasure as she thought of the way he had slid his cock up her throbbing cunt and filled her tight pussy with his meat. It sure exhausted her. That seemed like centuries ago.
"Lady, you all right?" Fred asked.
She opened her eyes and saw him kneeling next to her, his fingers pressed on her sweating forehead. Concern filled his eyes. She reached out and tried to grab his nuts and pull them off! The punk kid! She wanted to kill the bastard for breaking into her house!
"Whew!" Fred gasped. He slapped her across the face with a resounding whack. Ethel fell to the floor, a red mark forming on her cheek.
"She's fine," he said. "Who wants first?"
Ethel's eyes filled with horror. They were dark pools of fear. She rose to her elbows and stared down her body. Her matted cunt hair had sprung up into a miniature Afro. The sweat streaming in rivulets down the creases in her skin was tempting, sensual. She had been confused and lost when the impact of their words blasted her ear drums. This is a nightmare, this isn't really happening!
But she stretched her legs and felt the moistness down at the dark, angry slit that parted her cunt. Her mind was not functioning right. She thought of that tender hillock of pleasure and the abrupt straight gash across its center. It was so abrupt and direct, this slit. It was like the forbidden fruit that had attracted Adam to Eve in the Garden of Eden. Her pussy mound was like a ripe apple, only it had this dark slit through the middle as if nature had cleaved her cunt with an axe.
You're crazy! You're going fucking crazy! Ethel told herself, moving one thigh open and feeling the sucking pussy slit open.
She watched helplessly as Tod carefully untied his swimsuit and let it drop to the floor.
"Should I gag the broad?" said a cohort.
Fred looked into Ethel's face. Even, in his stoned-out condition, he recognized the fear that stared back at him. "There's no need. This broad is going to dig it. She's going to love fucking all of us!"
Ethel wanted to do something. She told herself a hundred times that lying down, playing helpless was no defense, but she couldn't bring herself to fight. They might only hurt her worse.
She stretched her legs and felt the way her empty cunt ached after the violent fucking of the broom handle. It had felt like a red-hot poker jammed up her twat. Well, this boy couldn't be worse than that, could he?
She examined his cock. It dangled like a flexible garden hose, sprouting from the fluff of curly blond pubic hair and drooping down like the nose of an elephant. It was not very big around certainly not thick like Biff's ramrod cock – but it was thick enough. And it was very, very long. The end was capped off by a mushroomed cap of gnarled skin that made his prick look like an angry cobra. The flared end riveted her attention. It was obscenely thick, and where his cock was nothing special except for the abnormal length, the knurled head posed a problem. It might hurt her cunt. It might hurt like hell.
The boy grabbed a handful of his cock and gave it a snap. The end sprang out hard from his palm, staring down at her unblinking eyes like a snake ready to strike.
"Baby, I'm going to teach you what fucking is all about," he said, his voice flavored by his Cajun drawl.
"Get away," she said defensively. Ethel was not fooling anyone. No amount of whimpering and moaning and pleading was going to stop these boys from dipping their cocks into her fuck well. She knotted the muscles in her ass and averted her face as Tod knelt between her thighs and stroked her pussy.
Oh, that feels so good! she thought, squelching the groan that was on her lips. His fingers played with every excited hair on her pussy and slowly opened the tender folds leading into her wetting twat.
There was a mystique about Southern boys. It was not lost on Ethel. The South made a big thing about the virility of niggers, but Cajuns were, if anything, hornier and more sexual than the spades. There aren't many free women in the swamps, or so went the story, so the young studs have to practice on anything they can hold still. And that included ponies and donkeys and chickens and dead catfish… anything with a tight wet hole.
She didn't know if the story was true or not, but she rolled her hips as Tod dipped his tongue between her labia and sucked on her clitoris.
How awful! This perverted bastard was eating her! What if the legend was true about Cajuns? She didn't want to think about that. It meant nothing was sacred anymore! She felt sick to her stomach. She couldn't bring herself to watch this vile man's tongue licking the drool that spilled from her parted folds.
When his hands reached underneath her ass and gripped her buns, she averted her face. Ethel was determined not to show any signs of pleasure. The punk kid had been right about Ethel not putting up a fuss. She would let them do their vicious bestial thing. She was helpless. After all, they were raping her and there were too many to fight, but she didn't have to enjoy their licking and eating and fucking.
Go ahead, get it over with, she thought. She wanted to cry. Her flesh was burning hot, but that had to be from fear. Certainly not passion! She was being raped after all! Raped by this Southern pervert!
"Baby, your pussy's hot," said Tod. He stretched his legs out, forming a V shape. He slid up close and pulled on her buttocks. "Come here," he said. "I want you to sit on my cock." He pulled on her, and when Ethel opened her eyes she gasped. His cock was standing straight up in the air. It looked a foot long at least and the knotty end was huge, enormous – It made her cunt hole spasm!
Obediently she got to her knees and at the apex of his V shape she rose to a squatting position and centered her weepy cunt hole above the huge cock.
She was mounting his prick and Ethel was so angered that she wanted to cry. He's making me fuck him, Ethel thought. But there was nothing she could do. She watched with terrible frustration as the other boys crowded around them. Ethel carefully lowered her body. Squatting made her groin ache. Lower and lower she came until the boiling hot end of his cock touched her cunt lips. His mushroomed head slipped into her channel with surprising ease. She noticed now that the stem had filled out and was thicker and harder than she first thought. Inch by inch she dropped down, the sucking cunt walls stretching out as he penetrated deeper and deeper. Ethel groaned. She tried not to look, but it was impossible. She had never come down on a man before. It was, a wild sensation.
His huge penis rose like a flagpole. She was actually working her pussy down on the shimmering shaft. And such a shaft. After the broomstick she figured anything would go into her fist-sized hole, but this boy made her worry. He'll tear your poor little cunny in half. He's just too damn big!
Tod just laughed as he pushed his weight back on his hands. Ethel didn't fool him for a minute. She played a game, pretending to go along with the group all the while telling herself she only fucked because she was a victim. He knew how much she loved being fucked. Tod had seen lots of girls get raped when they didn't put out. And the reaction was nearly the same in each case. A broad could not admit she liked dick being forced between her thighs. And they did love it. He wiggled his hips and felt her wet cooze tingle. Well, he had lots of cute things in store for Ethel. Things she wouldn't dream of doing… that is, unless someone like Tod showed her first.
"Baby, it's good and tight inside you," he said. She hunched halfway down his fuck tube. Already her skin was a mass of goosebumps, and her twat was open and wet. Sweat streamed down her body and her muscles stood out like tangled cording. Her tits were firm and the nipples hard. She wriggled her hips down toward his crotch.
"Little more," he encouraged. "Wag your cunt harder. That's it."
He flicked a hard, tense nipple with his middle fingernail.
"Aaaaaaahhh!!" Ethel shouted.
The tight circle of boys laughed. Their hard cocks pointed down at Ethel's sweating face. She looked around, eyes open, terrified, feeling the hot scorching poker roaring up her cunt like a Roman candle. She was scared witless.
Ethel slammed her hips down and flopped on his crotch. A spurt of air squeezed from her cunt lips with a whooshing noise. His dick was in to the hilt. It was a huge ladle stuck into the churning cauldron of her cunt. Tod grinned at her. She was close to coming, close to having an orgasm. He grinned at her as if to say, "Baby, I don't feel a thing yet. We got a long way to go."
She gurgled with shame and desire and hatred. She couldn't believe the ease in which she had given in. His dick sank into her cunt hole and she was responsible. Her twat was quivering with suppressed longing as she watched helplessly. Tod raised his thighs and rolled her onto his chest. His enormous cock was stuck like a banana into her slit. It was long and curving and every movement of her hips stirred lust in her cunt. Ethel was incensed. Her body hungered for sex. There was no other way to put it. Her belly grumbled for his churning fuck wand. She was kneeling down on the floor, her thighs forming a wide V shape over his erection. Her cunt pressed against his pubic hair. Her juice flowed out, wetting them both.
"Nice," he murmured. "Rock me, baby. Rock me with your hips."
He slipped back and forth and the resulting spasm in her slippery channel was enough to make her orgasm begin right there.
"Ohhhhhh!" she moaned, undulating her stomach and moving her arms in slow, sensuous movements. She looked like a belly dancer stuck on a penile spike. Tod was propped up on his arms, his mouth close to her nipples. Eagerly he tasted the red ripe berries topping each tit. His teeth latched onto the distended ends and his tongue came forward to tease and coax.
Ethel screamed. Her cunt clutched eagerly – desperately – at his cock. Oh, she wanted him so badly she could pee on herself. She realized what glee and joy there was in being fucked brutally by this young man. He had her squirming under his spell. There was almost nothing she wouldn't do for him. Nothing at all.
A terrible pain streaked up her asshole as the tight sphincter flexed and her butt cheeks cringed. She groaned, a shudder of exquisite joy flooding her cunt.
Eagerly, she twisted and squirmed. Her tongue lolled from the side of her mouth just like a little girl's might do. She bounced against the warm, pulsating cock stuck halfway up into the sleeve of her womb and her eyes were closed as the giggling knot of surfers clustered around and watched the old lady get her rocks off. The only thing now was the cock in her cunt. She had to make him come. And she would if it took all night sitting on his chest this way and bouncing up and down. She felt her ass flopping on his crotch. Ethel was like a little girl riding a horse for the first time. She laughed at this fantasy, riding Tod around was a great thrill.
She jerked in his hands and did not protest when Tod rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She didn't say no because his wonderful prick was still there, still fucking her cunt.
Her asshole spasmed again. The sensation was followed quickly by tender hands – the hands of children – stroking her rump and feeding her tight sphincter with long thin fingers.
Her ass was rolled up and split like a melon. Those terrible boys are going to fuck me back there! thought Ethel.
And while I still have this beautiful cock in my cunt!
Fantastic!