Brint Cooper, Assistant Manager, the sign said outside his door, and inside the large office Brint sat behind his desk, toying with a sheaf of comparison shopper's reports. He would funnel the information
on down to the necessary departments of the store in the morning. Right now the only thing he felt like doing was going home. He'd just come from a long and unpleasant meeting of the Board of Directors of the store, and it had been made clear to the attractive executive that there were certain aspects of his two-year reign as assistant manager of the store that were being reevaluated. Certain sales had gone down and an advertising policy that Brint had pushed hard for had fallen flat. It was all very distressing, and Brint tried to forget about it, even though there was a funny twist in his stomach at that very moment.
Hungry ... he thought, I'm Hungry, that's all ... I'll get right home and have dinner and a good night's sleep, and lots of rest over the weekend, and by Monday morning I'll be able to think of something that will save my face with the Board.
But even the thought of dinner was disturbing because of the new feelings Brint had been having about his wife, Fran. He mulled it over as he went out the door, bidding his secretaries good-bye with an absentminded nod.
"Sour puss looks fit to be tied tonight!" one of them said to the other.
"That's what he probably needs!" the other replied, laughing.
The elevator carried him down to the parking level and Brint found his car waiting for him the way it usually was at that hour.
"Have a good evening, Mr. Cooper!" the attendant called out to him as he drove up the ramp to the open air. But Brint couldn't help thinking that his whole world was slipping out from beneath him in some sneaky, irreversible way. There was Fran ... there was the dissatisfied Board of Directors ... there was that funny sound the car had started making and which was no longer covered by the warranty. The tired young man thought about his wife's attitude for the last few days - oh, it was very subtle, mind you, but Brint had noticed it just because of its subtlety. Usually when something was bugging his beautiful ex-model wife, she made it clear as all-get-out, and usually Brint had a good time getting her goat even more by either making fun of her or making her so upset that she lost control, thereby making him the winner of the argument. Or, he reflected, he would make love to her the way he had done several weeks before, thus effectively shutting her up. He felt a surge of excitement as he stopped at a traffic light, remembering that night and how Fran had moaned in ecstasy beneath his stiff cock.
They'd only made love a couple of times since then, and though Brint knew that each time had been too fast for Fran, nevertheless he did feel that she took too goddamned long to cum sometimes. He hadn't been able to wait either time, and now he regretted this, feeling that perhaps this had something to do with the distant, remote way that his blonde wife had been behaving toward him. Yet it seemed to be more serious than that. God knew, in the years they'd been married it wasn't the first time they'd made love and she hadn't cum!
In fact, Brint knew, because Fran told him later, that there'd been one entire year when she'd never cum at all!
So what's she got to complain about now? he thought angrily, surging on toward the quiet suburban street where he lived. Even so, Brint decided that tonight he'd make it up to her. She was a good kid, after all, and maybe he had been a bit hard on her, teasing her about her desire to go back to work and all. Christ, if he lost his job, they'd need a second paycheck!
The thought was staggering and depressing, and also reminded Brint that as far as money was concerned he wasn't saving any by feeding his younger brother, Morgan. Fran was right there too, but Brint was too stubborn to tell her so. If she was against Morgan, he was automatically for him, even though there was little love felt between the two brothers. Brint had always felt that his kid brother had been coddled
so much by his parents that he would never amount to anything. He took good things that happened to him as his due, and never seemed to reflect about the seriousness of life. Something Brint had had ample time to do during the years he was at City College working his way through, and then later at business school where he worked particularly hard to make good, even though he didn't feel any particular calling toward the business world. It made him feel good to identify with the President. He, too, was a self-made man, and no matter what, no one could ever take that away from him. Especially not his punk kid of a brother! Maybe he'd tell Fran tonight that she'd be getting rid of Morgan. Let the kid go stay with Mom and Dad - God knows they deserve each other!
Then maybe I'll have a little peace at home, he thought, reminding himself that it would be very pleasant indeed if, for example, while Jeanie was asleep he and Fran could go at it in the living room right on the sofa. They used to do this some years before, but it was impossible now due to the presence of his brother, Morgan, who always seemed to be around and under foot even though Brint had thought him to be the sort who went out a great deal. In fact, he'd envied the younger boy that, going out with all those pretty girls he was probably in contact with all the time. The stewardesses and airline sweeties. Yeah, Morgan was sitting pretty right in the middle of all that fancy tail, and all of it hot and ready too, Brint was willing to bet.
Brint himself had never found it terribly useful to chase other women. It took up too much time for one thing, and the girls always wanted something or other, and since he was willing to give nothing at all his few sorties into that field were brief and uneventful. Now the cynical young executive contented himself with calling one of several girls whose phone numbers he had and who for a fee would stop by his office or allow him to stop by their apartments for five or ten minutes. But this only happened about once a month at most, and Brint considered the money well spent and to be, in a manner which he was able to make himself understand, a favor to his wife. He wasn't getting involved with other women the way most of the men he consorted with did, and Fran was lucky to have him for a husband even though she would never know why Brint thought so.
The powerful motor shutting off jolted Brint back to reality. He was home and in the driveway. In a sense he regretted having gotten home so quickly, for he'd been enjoying the daze of driving and the pattern of his own thoughts. He never felt better than at those moments when he was in his car. As the tall dark executive got out of the car and closed the door after him, he wished that he could take with him the feeling of invincibility that the car gave him. Instead, he set his features in a contemptuous snarl without even realizing that he was doing so. This was his protection against the powers that existed beyond him.
* * *
"YES I TELL YOU I HEARD SOMETHING! IT'S BRINT! OH GOD, IT'S BRINT
COMING HOME!" Fran jumped up as best she could considering the fact that she was covered by her brother-in-law and her daughter's fervently writhing bodies, the two of them beginning once again what each thought was over moments before. Still the wondrous sparks of lust ricocheted between their naked, incestuously attracted bodies, making them lose sight of anything else but the fulfillment of the moment.
Fran got out from under them and ran to the window, her firmly rounded white buttocks bouncing as she ran.
"GOD. YES!" she shrieked, "IT'S HIM IT'S HIM ... GET OUT! GET OUT!
HURRY!"
Jeanie was disappointed, having hoped for a more complete surprise, but she slowly went toward the door of her mother's room anyway. Morgan hurried past her, grabbing his clothes as he ran. Jeanie did all she could to detain him, but the young uncle, frightened by the prospect of seeing his brother under such circumstances, pushed the little girl aside and ran out, heading toward his room. Jeanie blew her mother a kiss and slipped out herself, moving reluctantly toward her own room.
Downstairs the front door opened, closed, and Brint entered. He was immediately surprised by the fact that no delicious cooking odors were wafting from the kitchen, and that there was no one about to meet him. Suspicious by nature and particularly edgy because of his bad day, Brint looked around.
The first thing that the startled husband saw was that one of the pillows of the sofa had fallen onto the floor. Absentmindedly he went to pick it up, listening all along for the sound of someone else in the house. Just as he saw the wet stains upon the sleek material of the pillow, he thought he heard a noise upstairs like the sound of a door closing.
FRAN! His wife's name exploding in his brain, Brint began to take the steps two at a time. THAT BITCHING TWO-TIMING WHORE FUCKING ON MY SOFA!
Brint burst into the bedroom and the door slammed against a wall. Angrily he slammed it back. "FRAN, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? I KNOW YOU'RE HERE!"
From the bathroom came the sound of water running, and Brint raced to the door, flung it open, and headed for his nakedly trembling wife where she stood under the shower, furiously trying to scrub away the love scents she had accumulated throughout the long illicit afternoon. The blonde wife's eyes rounded with horror as she saw Brint coming toward her like a charging bull and then felt his fingers closing around her arms, pinching, hurting so hard that she knew that she'd have black and blue marks for weeks. Absurdly, she thought about the photographs she was due to take the next day. Would she even be alive the next day?
She was being shaken, carried bodily from the shower, harshly thrown upon the bed where she bounced up and scrambled away only to be tossed back upon the badly crumpled bed which the guilty woman had only had time to smooth out in the most perfunctory manner.
He knows ... oh Christ, he knows! she thought as she fended off his blows, protesting, pleading with her irate husband.
"FUCKING WHILE I'M AT WORK! FUCKING!" he screamed down at her nakedly cringing body. "WHAT ABOUT JEANIE? WHAT KIND OF A MOTHER ARE YOU ANYWAY? DID SHE GET A GOOD LOOK AT HER MOTHER SCREWING ON THE SOFA?"
"Ooooooh," Fran could only wail with the terrible burden of the truth, which was a hundred times more dreadful than the awful things of which she was being accused.
"Who was it? WHO? SOME CANDY-ASSED PHOTOGRAPHER, I'LL BET! ONE OF YOUR OLD BOY FRIENDS!"
Fran sobbed. Was he so far from wrong? Wouldn't she have given in to Giuliano tomorrow? Wouldn't she have wanted his warm kisses and kind words? But instead she had received her own husband's brother, felt his cock - God, she seemed to still feel it - high in her quivering pussy! And she had joined her own little girl in the most depraved enjoyment of sex, and she had loved it, loved every minute of it!
"NEVER MIND! NEVER MIND!" the distraught blonde cried, "BEAT ME, HIT ME, KILL ME IF YOU WANT! I DON'T CARE! I TELL YOU I DON'T CARE!"
Brint stopped for a second, glaring down at the cowering female before him. "Killing's too good for you!" he hissed. His woman, his own wife betraying him, actually giving herself to someone else. That same gorgeous golden cunt there between those fabulous thighs ... they were his ... all his and they belonged to nobody else! The very idea of another man even touching Fran was enraging him more by the moment. He had to do something, something to put his stamp upon this woman, to prove to her and to him that she was his, that he would not tolerate unfaithfulness! A wild look was in his eyes as the angry husband ripped off his suit coat and his shirt and tie. Then he loosened his belt and let his pants fall down. He peeled down his shorts and took off his tight cotton undershirt. The calf-length black socks upon which he insisted came off after the conservative brown shoes.
All the while, Fran watched him carefully, cautiously between sobs, as though her life depended upon it. Then he spoke, barking out a command to her that startled the young wife. Nevertheless, she was in no position to refuse him and she did as her husband asked.
Kneeling naked on all fours on the bed, the adulterous wife cringed backwards.
"No ... no," she murmured fearfully.
"NO? What's the matter, had too much screwing already? That little pussy can take more, can't it?"
"NO ... NO!" It was too awful, too humiliating!
"Well, that's okay too!" Brint said with a snarl, eyeing the white pliant mounds of nether flesh that formed his wife's fully presented buttocks. "There's more than one way to skin a cat!"
From her lewd position on the bed where her husband had forced her, terror struck deep in Fran's bones. But didn't she deserve whatever she got? Even if her husband was a disgusting egomaniac, a cold, ungiving person and a selfish monster? Even though all that was true, hadn't she done things that no woman ought to ever consider, much less enjoy? Wasn't he right to want to punish her? She thought she was going mad. Perhaps she was! Didn't her wanton actions, even though she had been forced at the beginning, indicate a wandering mind? How could she have made passionate love with her own brother-in-law ... and later with her own daughter? How could she have enjoyed it when she heard her daughter, who was only ten years old, cumming blissfully beneath the twenty year old's fucking, and while enjoying it cum herself because of Morgan's fingers thrusting in her naked cunt?
Brint peered down at his wife's widespread pale-skinned buttocks, knowing that what he would do would humiliate his adulterous wife for a lifetime.
"SPREAD THOSE LEGS WIDER!" he commanded.
Brint positioned himself behind the kneeling blonde, his thick heavy cock bulging with throbbing veins that stood out on the sides of the hardened shaft. Leaning over, he slowly and deliberately parted the helpless cheeks of Fran's full rounded buttocks wider than they would normally go. He heard her moan, and then with a perverse smile on his lips and reminding himself of his great anger he bent forward and licked the small brown opening of the trembling woman's tiny puckered anus.
"Nnnoooooonnnnnnggg!" Fran shuddered at the hideous wet feeling back there in her nether crevice. It felt cold and strange and she felt singularly uncomfortable. It seemed so obscene that he should do such a thing to her ... it was crazy and frightening and unsettling. Yet Fran felt completely at her husband's mercy, not only because he was stronger than she, but because she really did feel guilty and deep down inside she knew that she deserved this from him. He was, after all, still her husband, and she had made love with his own brother and sanctioned her daughter's lewd actions.
"NNNNNNNGH!" Her husband's tongue flicking teasingly in the crack of her widespread ass-cheeks sent chills running through the repentant young blonde, and she felt ashamed and embarrassed and oddly more naked than she had ever been before.
"Wider!" she heard him order gruffly, beginning to really enjoy himself. Then an idea struck the leering husband, and he looked hurriedly around. By chance he saw upon the floor just the kind of thing he was looking for. Fran's hairbrush had fallen near the bed earlier as she'd tried frantically to brush her hair and then had given it up to run into the shower to cleanse herself before her husband's arrival. Swiftly, Brint leaned down to pick it up and returned to his position behind his wife's subserviently kneeling figure.
Fran's beautiful long legs were spread so far apart that the tormented woman could feel the pull on the tendons where her thighs joined the tender area of her hair-fringed cunt. Suddenly there was a sharp pain in her rectum, and the frightened housewife realized with alarm that her husband was working something into her back there! She didn't even know what it was! But it felt thick and cold and Fran realized with horror that he was going to try to push it all the way inside her virginal back passage! Terrified, she tried to wriggle away from the intruding object, but then she felt it beginning to turn in the deep rubbery channel of her helplessly exposed rectum, sliding steadily inward and then pulling out and pushing back in with abrupt jerking motions.
"NNNNNNNNNN," the trapped blonde wife groaned piteously.
"Whatsa matter? This is your favorite brush, isn't it?" He twisted the brush handle savagely, worming it upward into the entrance of his wife's roundly stretched anus and letting it slide within the fear-tensed walls.
"Nooooo oooohhh! HOW CAN YOU?" The pain was horrible, and even worse was the very idea of what Brint was doing to her!
The horrified blonde tried to straighten her knees out so that she could lie flat on the bed. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt so much that way. She just had to get him to stop somehow! But her determined and still furious husband pulled the frightened wife's buttocks back into the air making her remain in the humiliating kneeling position that made her rear passage wide open to his lewd fondling with the plastic-handled hairbrush.
"DOESN'T IT FEEL GOOD?" he demanded. "DOESN'T IT FEEL GOOD IN YOUR ASS! You little cunt, I'm going to fuck you with it in that tight little ass of yours, the one you sit on all day except when you're shaking it for some other cock!"
Fran's face reddened. Her blonde hair hung down in her eyes and her mouth gaped open in pain. She felt so exposed, so transparent. Never had she known anything like this feeling of having her own hairbrush forced high into the constricting walls of her anal passage. Oh God! she thought, what's happening to me? What has happened to my life? Tears ran down her cheeks as she tried to support herself on her elbows, but every now and then she would pitch forward propelled by the worming, thrusting brush handle.
"NOOOOOOO! BRINT, I CAN'T STAND IT! I CAN'T!" Her husband's obscene words still echoed in her ears, and the frightened woman's body trembled uncontrollably. She knew that he was deliberately trying to hurt her as much as possible, and while the idea of death had seemed appealing before, the actual presence of pain was terrifying.
"Aaaaaaaah!" The handle of the brush suddenly went in further than it had before.
"Say you want it!" he commanded.
"WHAT?"
"Say you want me to do it!"
"I ... I ..."
"SAY, 'BRINT, FUCK ME UP THE ASS'. SAY, 'I'VE ALWAYS WANTED YOU TO FUCK MY ASS GOOD'!"
The brush slid out abruptly with a small, ugly popping sound and Fran's stretched rear passage felt relieved and strangely open and empty. The disturbed and guilty blonde mother could feel her husband's loins pressing up toward her naked buttocks and his hands gripping her by the hips, pulling her entire lower half toward him. Then with dread certainty Fran felt the hardness of Brint's rampant cock running up and down the thin moist slit that stretched from the soft open lips of her curl-covered pussy to the base of her spine.
Oh Lord, let it be over soon, let it be over soon! she prayed silently even as the frightened wife felt her husband's hands slipping into the warm hair-fringed lips between her thighs, the obscenely wriggling finger sliding wetly into the defensively moistened slit of her cringing pussy.
"You're all wet ... what's that, cum up inside you?" His voice was terrible to hear as he mouthed the words with a dull vacant sound.
"OOOOOH!" Fran cried, shivering with horror as abruptly Brint brought the twitching thickness of his cock up to the tiny opening of her anus, letting the blunt end of it spread the softly yielding crevice of her naked buttocks wide to admit it. Sadistically the young executive began to rock back and forth, push and rock, rock and push, working forward all the time, again pulling his wife's helpless body back to him so that eventually the smooth rubbery tip of his anger-engorged cock entered with a small obscene sound into the tight elasticity of the fearful young blonde's tightly resisting anal passage.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmff!" Fran writhed in helpless agony. The unnatural entry brought a searing pain that radiated through her brutally ravished buttocks, sending shafts of stabbing torment driving throughout her nakedly trembling body.
"OH, YOU'VE GOT TO STOP! NOTHING IS WORTH THIS, NOTHING!"
But instead of complying, Brint pushed his hotly pulsing penis head another few centimeters up into his protesting wife's severely stretching anal passage. Listening to her cries, he told himself that he had to go through with the whole thing now. He had to feel his excitedly throbbing cock deep up inside Fran's soft clenching ass-cheeks.
Already the pain-wracked blonde's rectum was contracting with hard squeezes, trying to expulse the enormous bulk within her virgin passage. But her frantic efforts were only serving to give her furious husband an added excitement, a luxuriously tingling sucking sensation all around his painfully swollen penis. He could feel his desire-hardened cock sliding all the way forward now, high up into the tight canal, unmercifully pushing the tiny ridges of hidden flesh before it as it went. A gigantic shudder traversed Fran's naked body and she fell forward breathlessly on her face. She recalled bitterly the other evening when they had made love, she and her husband, and he had given her such pleasure in almost the same position. But this time it was different. It was not the receptivity of her hidden pussy that he was capturing, but the unwilling torture-wracked depths of her convulsing rectum.
Brint looked down at the incredible sight of his lust-swollen cock grinding hotly in and out of his wife's private nether flesh. It glistened dully and was a deep purplish color as it left the desperately straining
confines of her ravaged rectum. Warming to his task, the young dark-haired executive let his hands roam underneath Fran's softly quivering belly. Hungrily, his fingers found the golden-haired mound of her cunt and with a swift insinuating motion he spread the soft cushions of heated flesh that formed her cuntal lips and slid his outstretched middle finger into the helplessly exposed pussy and began tickling the gentle folds of inner flesh.
"SAY YOU LIKE IT, WHORE!" he repeated tensely as unwanted pleasure began to seep into the marrow of Fran's trembling emotions stirring within her. She squealed weakly. A deliberately teasing flick of her determined husband's middle finger at the blonde's swollen clitoris made Fran jerk uncontrollably and then his fingers were fucking up into her openly flowering pussy, rising high and hard up into the softly sucking folds.
"AAAAAAAH!" Pleasure flooded the tormented wife's passion-tortured body from all sides and even her savagely ravished rectum began to respond to Brint's now insanely churning cock in a different way. With a gulp, batting back the tears, she began to speak.
"OOOOOH! YES ... I ... YES, FUCK ME ... UP THE ASS! I ... I ... I'VE
ALWAYS WANTED IT THERE!" she added, recalling his directives. It was a great surprise how satisfying it felt to hear herself saying this. The unwillingly aroused blonde's whole body undulated and twitched lewdly now as her mouth gaped open and her panting grew heavier and faster.
Yes, it was good to be fucked, to be hurt, to be punished in the lewdest way possible for her sins. God, she deserved it, every bit of it. How good it was to suffer!
The excited young wife danced obscenely back at her husband's wildly lunging penis, her knees quaking and her heart in her mouth as her warmly seeping pussy squirmed nakedly and shamelessly around her husband's probing fingers.
Behind her, Brint felt unexpected tears coming into his eyes as he fucked hard into his wife's nakedly splayed ass-cheeks while toying with her desire-drenched pussy, easily bringing her to the point of frenzied delight.
"YOU BITCH! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DO IT?" he choked out, maddened by his lust and his anger and his strong love for his wife. "WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DO IT?" he asked in a perplexed tone, feeling all his emotions rising to his throat as he realized anew that his wife had actually done what he's always thought was impossible. She'd slept with another man!
But meanwhile Fran's tightly clutching anus was gripping his ramrod-stiff cock spasmodically and crazily, and he knew that she was cumming.
Teeth tightly clenched, Brint ground his lust-swollen pistoning cock hard upward, his fingers impaling her flooding pussy so that he could feel his own lustfully driving hardness pounding into her from behind.
"OOOOOOOHHHHHH!" he cried, feeling his own white-hot male cum suddenly spurting voluminously far up into the adulterous wife's squirming rectum.
"OH SHIT BABY! OH CHRIST, I LOVED YOU, I LOVED YOU ALL ALONG! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GO AND DO IT?"
His cum was racing up into her anal passage with tremendous speed as Fran arched her back and flexed her buttocks hard against her husband's heavily invading length, tightening and opening her climaxing pussy simultaneously.
"OH GOD BRINT ... GOD, I LOVE YOU TOO ... I DO ... I REALLY DO!" She was descending into an all-enveloping cloud of brilliantly explosive cumming. And she was being lifted, carried away, all sins absolved. Somewhere, she and Brint knew each other, still loved each other and climaxing was good. It was great! She let it happen to her, let the magnificence of her body heal her where she had thought no healing was possible. She felt hard cock, warm cunt, slipping fingers and slapping flesh.
"FILL ME! FILL MEEEEEEEEE!" she mouthed as a fine spray of froth formed at her lips. "MAKE ME CUM, MY DARLING ... OH, MAKE ME CUMMMMMMMMM!"