“I’m not a cuckold,” I said, trying to sound tough.
His face turned toward me, his eyes glowered.
My insides went mush, my head tingled, a thin tendril ran down my spine, spreading to my chest, which tightened, and this shard found a home deep inside my crotch. Moisture trickled down my right cheek, my eyes burned, and I trembled like a streamer on an AC vent.
“You piss yourself in this car. You’ll fucking clean up with your mouth.”
I attempted to calm myself but found it impossible—a strange, intoxicating mixture of fear, anticipation, self-loathing, and excitement harassed my brain. In quick, furtive glances, I drank in the sight of the Deputy. Muscles strained against the clothing, his darkness shown in the light of the dash. Niggers were sub-human. At least, according to my parents, I understood their attitude, for they feared them being our betters.
How might Deputy Weller be anything than my better? Strong, intelligent, able to control people. He owned me, with a harsh glance and rough treatment, I’d pissed myself. His magnificent prick held my attention and affection. His pecker lay on his pants, my glorious master.
“You won’t hurt her, will you?”
His lip curled into this cruel smirk. He’d do to my wife, whatever he wanted, and I’d like what he did, even if she didn’t. My mind only thought of him pounding the hell out of her. Thinking of his cock splitting her tiny pussy open, filling her to overflowing with his pungent, salty, spicy seed kept me on edge.
At last, we pulled into the drive of my home, the garage door swung up, opening the two-car parking area for us. Our other car was in the garage, getting the trunk tricked out for transport. He slid into one spot, my wife the other. He opened his door, stepped out, and wagged his finger for her to come to him.
“Stay put,” he said to me. His cock hung halfway to his knee. Soft, fat, darker than his skin. My petite wife stood in front of the cop. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor. She knelt, reached her hand to his cock, took his flaccid pecker in her soft, small hands, rubbed him. he glared into my eyes, this evil smirk on his face.
“Show your useless, boy bitch how to suck.”
While she worked on his limp cock, he took her blouse in his hands and tore the fabric from her body in two quick jerks. Leaning into him, my wife rubbed her firm, tiny breasts against his black dick. Moving her small mounds against the hot flesh of his member. His prick swelled, growing, and stood as an angry, black club ready to beat her into submission.
His eyes locked to mine, he told me, with his hateful scowl, she belonged to him. I’d glance at him and move my eyes to her sucking him. Amazed at her mouth and throat filled with his incredible shaft. Jealous of her. I’d never understood how inadequate I was. I thought all men had four or fewer inches. I’d always believed porn was fake.
After a bit, he fucked her face with a savage fury. Bucking his hips, jerking her head back and thrusting down as he lunged into her. With a quick enraged wrench, he tossed her face down on the seat, tore her skirt off. The ripping of the fabric ran inside my ear right to my small cock, making me hard as a pebble.
With one swift jerk, he ripped her thong from her body. Taking his mammoth log into his hand, he rubbed her pussy, moving the fat head around, and pushed into her. His dark eyes, gawking into mine.
Emotions welled inside me. I wanted to puke, fix my eyes somewhere else, to be elsewhere myself. My cock grew harder. Drawn to the cop as he fucked my wife, I analyzed each thrust of his hard body, driving his snake deeper into her with each lunge. I absorbed her moans, sympathized with her cries of pain, and understood the pleasure mixing with the hurting.
“He’s so much larger than you. Shit, he fucks good. Why can’t you fuck me like this?”
The insults rushed from her mouth. Cotton covered the inside of my mouth, my throat went dry, and my skin crawled. My eyes refused to sate into hers. They darted between the two, pausing on his, craving a kind glance or cruel grimace. I wanted, so desperately, to jack off, but the cuffs prevented it. Turning my wast to the seatback, I rubbed my cock against the seat. Humping and taking in his pound of her.
I lost my load, kept on humping the seat.
The black adonis pounded into her, never for a moment taking his eyes off me. Yanking her hair, squeezing her ass, or reaching under her and mangling her tits. He fucked like a wild animal, pounding balls-deep into her snatch.
“Oh, my God,” she said. “Oh, baby, oh my God, you’re my god,” she screamed.
If any of this was for her pleasure, I caught no indication in his gawk at me. He pushed her face into the seat cushion, pounding her harder than I believed she possibly would stand. He hit her pussy so deep and so harsh, so rough, I feared she’d break.
Her orgasms hit her hard, one after another. Her legs shook, her body undulated under him. My wife screamed, cried, begged him to stop, followed by please don’t stop. She paid no attention to the fact I was present. Nor did she seem to notice me fucking the car while she got fucked by him.
All this overwhelmed me. My cock spat for a small spray assisted only by my squirming about on the seatback. Again, I lost my nut. After he’d fucked her for twenty minutes, he reached over, grabbed my cock through my pants, squeezed without mercy. I lost a new load as he grunted and groaned, and she begged him to cum inside her.
“Yes,” she screamed as he filled her, “Oh, my, fucking, god. You’re a god, my god, oh, my god.”
A deep, grunting groan came from his lips. The cop pushed himself deep inside her. I understood he shot his nut. Long shudders of his body lasted for a full minute. When he pulled his cock out of her, a viscus stream oozed out of her cunt.
“Little bitch is a great poke. Too good for a maggot like you.”
Our Master, yes, I said Master. Our Master picked my wife up and flung her over his shoulder like a trophy. Turning to me, he scowled at me.
“Come on, now, step out of the car and march your ass to that door.” He reached into our car, got the keys from the ignition, gazed at the cluster of keys on the ring, “Which one opens the door?”
I had to watch him fuck her, in every possible position, until late afternoon. Our master was fucking machine, capable of lasting longer, fucking harder, and pleasing my wife more than I might hope possible.
Now to keep her safe from his wrath, I had to deliver the drugs, bring him back the money, and do so in time to please him. My meeting was scheduled at midnight, more than a three-hour drive, and I’d have only four hours after midnight to return with the cash. As I prepared for my journey, he gave me my instructions. Endning in an ominus warning.
“Bring me every fucking dime,” he said.
“That wasn’t our deal,” I said.
“It’s the new deal. If you don’t bring me the Ten Grand by four am, your old lady will pay the price.”
He ran his hand over my chest, unbuttoning my shirt. He put his hand on the peck, squeeze me so hard, I winched in pain. Callused hands, rough like sandpaper, ran over my body, making my dick hard. My head spun, dizziness overtook me, I tried to breathe. My heart pounded in a wild rhythm. I averted my eyes from his piercing leer.