The Boyfriend's Dad(23)
McDonald read the symptoms and forced another glass of brandy into her trembling hands. “And tomorrow, you’ll get the pictures. All of them, and nobody will be the wiser. Now, drink some more.”
She felt the liquor sear her throat as it spilled into her stomach with a warming sensation that slowly began to spread through her chilled blood. The big man was sitting beside her now, and had his intimately pressed arm around her; she could smell the heavy scent of his male excitement and then his hand tightened, his fingers toying with the tender flesh of one large, heaving breast that was hidden beneath the thinness of her blouse.
“You… you’d better give me another drink,” she heard herself say, and then the brandy once more glowed in her belly. Maybe if she drank enough it would be endurable… Dear God. She must force herself to remember that all this was to save her daughter’s future.
“Feeling better, Carla?” McDonald smiled lecherously, removing the glass from her hand and drawing her to him. The tormented young mother found courage from the burning alcohol coursing hotly through her blood stream and pleaded: “Oh, no. Oh; Lord no, not here, Mort.” She shuddered, looking around. “If anybody should come…”
McDonald, aware that little capitulations often help bring the final prize, murmured: “Fair enough. How about your bedroom?”
Still in a half comatose shock of disbelief, she reeled under the impact of his words. He was going to force her to make love on her own marital bed. Where she and Tamera’s father, Arnold, had so often and warmly embraced. Mort McDonald couldn’t have hit upon a more despicable way of degrading her, truly crushing her slightest mental resistance… but, closing her mind to the horrible reality of the situation, she arose and allowed McDonald to lead her down the hall to the bedroom of she and her former husband, beyond now, the ability to fight back.
“Now, let’s see how you compare with your daughter, baby,” McDonald grunted. “Strip off your clothes and get naked.”
Her mind tried to formulate thoughts but she struggled against them, wanting only a total blankness to blot out what was being done to her and by her. Obediently she slipped out of her shorts and blouse, then unhooked the thin bra she wore, threw it on top of the other clothes, and after a hesitant, shuddering second, sent her thin, white lacy panties on the same pile. She watched in horrid fascination as McDonald stripped, frozen trance-like in horror as his thick rigidly hard penis stood out from beneath his slight paunch like a heavy, blunt spear at her, and then he grinned lewdly and began stroking his massive shaft back and forth to taunt her.
“Like it, baby? Sure you do. You like cock, I know it.” Carla couldn’t speak, no sound coming from her fear-constricted throat, and her eyes dropped to his hard, fleshy penis against her will, and she knew that there was no turning back now. This cold, crude man was going to ravish her defenseless body no matter what she did or tried, and she was completely at his mercy. And she was well aware that no mercy was in him to give, only a smoldering, all-consuming lust…
She stood before him, humiliatingly naked, and she almost lost her balance when she felt the sudden wet contact of his saliva-moistened lips pressing first to the nude flesh of her globular, ivory breasts. Then, soft, blonde pubic hair grazed his checks as he dropped to his knees before her, his breath coming in heavy labored gasps, spreading her pink, moist pussy-lips outward with his thumbs and flicking a lizard-like tongue into the sheath of the softly pulsating split. The beautiful, fear-crazed woman jumped from the electrifying assault on her vaginal area, and falling backwards, her knees buckled against the side of the bed, and she sprawled with a soul-searing moan on the coverlet, flat on her back, her thighs spreading inadvertently wide as she landed.
McDonald pounced on the bed and caught her by her ankles before she could close her legs. She struggled, but it was a one-sided battle, and then she relaxed, offering all of her defenseless hair-fringed cunt to his salacious and gleaming eyes, knowing that she would have to give in eventually, and that there was nothing left now but the submission, her body a helpless toy to be used as lewdly as he wished.
“On… your knees, baby,” McDonald commanded, his licentious excitement aroused beyond belief by the mere sight of her voluptuous naked body. Her milk-white skin with her erotic, pleasure-filled thighs, perfectly formed hips and legs, trembling, begging vaginal lips—never had McDonald seen such perfection in all his life! “Yes! Yes! Get down on your knees!” he husked impatiently.
“Why?” the bitterly humiliated mother moaned. “What… what are you going to make me do?”