Heather Brown

Kidnapped housewife

CHAPTER ONE

My cunt was filled with ten inches of hot, throbbing cock. The fit was so tight I thought I would scream.

Inside, I was tense. In knots.

Repeatedly, I'd come to the brink of orgasm and then failed. The harder I was fucked, the more frustrating it was for me. This affair was turning out like all the others.

"Fuck me harder, harder!" I forced myself to beg, even though the phallic jackhammer splitting my thighs was already killing me.

Despite my suffering, I was not yet ready to give up my quest for an orgasm. Through the agony, I wanted to come so bad I could taste it.

To emphasize my willingness to go to the limit no matter how much it hurt, I wrapped my legs around the hard-fucking owner of the hard-on splitting my guts, yanking him into me even deeper. I could feel his balls broiling against the lips of my pussy.

"Holy shit, Angie," he cursed my name, "you're twisting my Goddamn prick off!"

"Just shut up and fuck me, Dick Tracy," I masked my inner turmoil and purred. "If I wreck your pistol, I'll get you a new one. They're doing wonderful things with vinyl these days."

That brought a lopsided grin even to the craggy face of the lieutenant. Roy Parker had a reputation for being a no-nonsense cop, but he was just a big goofy kid once he got his cock in my pussy. Let's face it, the most famous cop in the city – almost a cinch to be elected the next District Attorney – was just nuts about me.

And, in most ways, I was pretty crazy about him too. The only problem was that "most" does not, comprise 100% of the pie. At the bottom-line I had a glaring deficiency that warped my whole existence.