Message-ID: <7102eli$9801081639@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: wiley10 Subject: Going-away Party (mmf rape tort) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980108103950.29730.qmail@nym.alias.net> Warning: This story is quite brutal, and sick. It describes in great detail, and some realism, the rape and torture of a young, beautiful woman. If you don't like this sort of story, don't read it. Author's note: I wrote this story on a request, so it isn't quite the type of story I enjoy reading. It is a pure rape story with elements of torture. enjoy, wiley10 Going-away Party One hundred million dollars, I thought. Five years it took, five years and two accomplices and a great many lies, but we had made our fortunes; now it was time to get out. I had planned this day from the very beginning. All three of us would meet at the office on a holiday, so no one else would be in. We would drive together to the airport, and together would fly to a little island where the women were beautiful, the authorities buyable, and where there was no extradition. I glanced at the clock: 6:00 pm, only five more hours before we had to leave for the airport. I smiled as I looked at my name-plate across my beautiful oak desk: Paul Hanson, Vice-President. A knock on my office door brought me out of my reverie. I frowned. There shouldn't have been anyone here; John and Greg should have been down in accounting cleaning up a few loose endsû didn't want anyone catching on too fast. I stood up and approached the door. "Come in, it's open." The door cracked open and a young woman right off of a magazine cover stepped tentatively into my office. She was stunning, standing almost my own six foot one in her shoes. Oh man, her shoes, black leather calf-high boots with three inch heels, wrapped what must have been the most delicious calves, since the rest of her legs were so perfect, their shape clear behind sheer black hose, a tight black skirt covering only half her long, lean thighs. A white blouse and a black jacket couldn't hide that flat, narrow waist or restrain those full round breasts which I knew were under there, pressing here and there against her blouse when she moved. Her neck was a smooth, creamy white, leading up to full, pale, luscious lips and a face which could have adored any magazine in the country. She was crowned with a long mane of straight blond hair reaching past her shoulders, falling to either side of her face, framing it as if it were a photo, highlighting those big, beautiful blue eyes which seemed to shimmer even under the fluorescence of my office. "I'm sorry," she said hesitantly, "but I'm looking for Mr. Stone. I'm doing a report on my internship and I thought he might be in today." I gave her my best smile as I looked back into her bright blue eyes. "He was in earlier today, but he's stepped out. Why don't you sit down," I motioned to the brown leather couch sitting against the wall, "maybe I can help you?" She made a move toward the couch, and I moved over and shut the door, still smiling, my mind starting to cloud over with adrenaline. I had been in getaway mode, my nerves frayed by the thought that in just six hours I'd be home free with a third of one hundred million dollars and then this girl comes in, this girl who's so damned hot. She perched herself on the edge of the couch, those perfect knees together, pulling down her skirt as it rode up slightly, showing beautiful thighs. She slipped a notepad and a pen from an inside pocket of her jacket and watched me as I sat down on the edge of the coffee table opposite her. "Mrà." she started. "Hanson, but call me Paul." I smiled again, my world narrowing to the sight of her, of her face, of her full, pale lips, of her pink tongue as it snaked out to moisten those lips. I could hear my heart pound in my chest as I watched her, thudding heavily as my mind fogged over, and I knew what was going to happen, knew that I couldn't stop myself, and knew that I didn't want to stop myself. "Paul, well, uhàI worked for Mr. Stone last summer as an internà" "What college do you go to?" I started, then shook my head, "I'm sorry, I don't know your name." "Cathy. Cathy Rollins." She fidgeted nervously, unsure of herself. "Well Cathy, how old are you?" "Um, twenty-one. Oh, and I go to Sû." I grinned at her. She was perfect, just perfect. My palms started to sweat. "So what do you want to know, Cathy?" I loved the sound of her name in my mouth, the syllables rolling deliciously around my tongue. "I interned with Mr. Stone, so I pretty much know what the company does." She ran her fingers across the side of her head, brushing that straight blonde hair from her eyes, her manner changing slightly, becoming less nervous, more decisive as she spoke. "What I would like to know is the strategy your company has for capturing overseas markets, especially considering the problems you've had in South Africa." My head was beginning to throb, but I knew from experience that she was looking at a perfectly relaxed man, smiling slightly as he looked at her. It always happened that way, whenever I got hyped, my whole body would be pounding, my mind focused crystal clear on one thing, a dense fog edging out everything else; my body tight, pulled taut as a bridge support cable, ready to snap. My appearance, though, would be calm, relaxed, smiling, masking what lurked beneath. I answered her, not really paying attention to what I was saying, watching as she bent her head to write, glancing up at me occasionally from beneath those bangs, with that face, with those full fucking lips and those hot fucking legs and that blouse, that white fucking blouse straining with those tits those fucking big fucking tits and those fucking thighs and her fucking flat hard stomach I shivered inside as I tried to contain myself for just a few minutes longer. "àand that's pretty much the plan," I finished. She nodded, still scribbling, "Mrà. Paul. You saidû " "I'm sorry," I interrupted, "but I was wondering. Mr. Stone has, well," I looked away from her for a moment, "a certain reputation around hereà." She looked up at me, her face questioning. I looked directly into those big baby blue eyes of hers, my face a mask of seriousness, "he never harassed you, did he?" Cathy looked shocked, and I wasn't surprised. Mr. Stone is almost sixty and if the old fuck isn't gay, then he's been castratedû he's got no balls, and all the secretaries loved him because he's so damned nice. "Nàno." She shook her head. "He never didàsaidàanythingàno." She was nervous again, slightly on the defensive. I liked that. "His last intern, she left because of some of the things he said," I continued, pressing, "and she was nowhere as good looking as you." I watched as that small pink tongue darted out again to like those gorgeous lips, watched as her hands began to fidget in her lap. I leaned closer to her, confidentially, my mind tense, driven, crazy as she leaned slightly away from me. "He used to brag to me some times, you know, how he liked to fuck college girls up the ass." There was a silence as she stared at me with those beautiful blue eyes, her whole body, her whole damned sexy body quivering slightly as she tried to decide what to do. She looked down and stood up quickly, jerkily, stuffing her notebook and her pen back into her jacket. "I'm sorry," she said to the ground, "Mr. Stone never did or said anything to me which could be construed as harassment. Thank you for your time." I stood up with her, my whole body becoming more relaxed as my mind raged and my vision caught every minute detail of this hot, hot fucking woman moved toward the door, myself at her side, my mouth apologizing mildly, saying I'm sorry for shocking you, but I needed to know. "Now!" my mind screamed as I felt my hand touch the doorknob, her eyes still studiously ignoring me as she paused that one instance for me to open the door and let her out. She saw it coming, but she couldn't react, didn't have time. It was an open-handed slap across the left side of that sexy face. She flinched, she cried out, she stumbled, shock more powerful than the blow as I moved over her like a wild beast bringing down his prey. She staggered to the right and her heel twisted to the inside and she fell to one knee, her right hand coming down to catch her fall. An inhuman growl came from my throat as I lashed out, my foot burying itself into that perfect stomach, making her body jerk back, a horrible retching sound coming from her as she dropped to both knees, grabbing her stomach with both hands, her head hanging as she gasped for air, her blonde hair shrouding her face as drool wet those luscious, sexy, fucking lips. I grabbed that hair, veins standing out on the back of my hand as I jerked her head up and leaned over her, my other hand gripping the top of her blouse. "You might be done with me, bitch, but I'm not done with you," I said, my voice hard. The bitch, the hot, sexy, fucking hot bitch was still trying to breath as I ripped down savagely, tearing her blouse open, buttons clacking against the closed door, exposing a wide expanse of smooth, creamy, sexy fucking white flesh, her fucking tits bigger than I thought strapped down, straining against a white bra. Her hands reached up to push my hand away as I gripped one of those full mounds of flesh, so I jerked her head by her hair, growling, seeing shock and fear in her eyes as she practically mewled at me, "Pleaseàplease." I backhanded her, hard, the sound ugly and exciting to me as her head jerked to the side, my other hand still entwined in that beautiful, silky, long blonde hair. "Shut up, bitch," I slapped her again, her cry of surprise and shock and pain like fucking music, like a fucking aphrodisiac. "Shut the hell up." A sound caught my attention, and I turned toward the door, a savage snarl twisting my lips as I crouched over my prize. It was opening, and I watched, as if in slow motion, John and then Greg step into my office. The girl bucked against my grip, her hands clawing at my wrists as she tried to stand. "Help me! Help!" she screamed at them, the hope of rescue making her frantic, making her strong. She got half way to her feet before I turned on her, my fist slamming into her straining body, hitting her directly in the sternum, making her wheeze horribly, those bright blue eyes clouding with pain as she fell to her knees, then onto her hands, until she was kneeling on the ground, a beautiful, hot, sexy, fucking bitch on all fours while Greg, John, and I stared at each other. Greg is a small man, sharp, handsome, and completely amoral, which is why I chose him. He looked like he walked out of a factory for accountants, which wasn't too much of a surprise since he was one. He had a family, two daughters, but didn't seem to mind the thought of leaving them, although from some of the things he said I figured he was fucking them; sick, but they weren't mine, so I didn't really care. John is something altogether different. He looks like a construction worker who fell into a suit. Hell, he looks like muscle, but he's probably the smartest of the three of us, and a damned fine accountant too, especially when it comes to cooking the books. If it had been anyone else who had walked through that door, I probably would have killed them. As it was I waited, Cathy on her hands and knees trying to suck oxygen into her lungs, watching them as they took in the scene. John turned toward the door, and I watched. A smile spread over my face as I watched him close the door and silently lock it. Greg looked at Cathy, then at me, and asked, "What have we got here?" "A gift," I said, "a gift for our going away party." I saw their eyes fall back to the girl, who was beginning to recover. I knew what they were seeing: a young woman on her knees, sheer black hose defining beautiful thighs, that short black skirt stretched across of full, firm, hot fucking ass, her blouse falling to either side of her body, her breasts swaying beneath her, her sexy blonde hair shaking as she breathed in deeply. No man who was a man wouldn't want a piece of that fucking bitch right then and there. She looked up at them then, with those big, bright beautiful blue eyes, pleading, pleading with them to help her, "Please help me," she begged, and I saw it hit Greg like a physical blow, saw the transformation, saw the lust and the desire and cruelty light up his face as he looked down at her. She saw it too, and tears began to flow from those gorgeous eyes, a sob catching in her throat as he eyes sought out John, finding a blank indifference, a mask of hard stone with bright, shiny eyes. "Well, show us what you've got," Greg said, still looking ferally at her. I obliged, grabbing the bitch by the hair, ignoring her hands as they gripped my wrist, and pulling her to her heeled feet, her legs askew as I shook her. When she was up, I grabbed one of her wrists and twisted it behind her back, her ass pushing against my groin, making my sight go red as my cock throbbed and she struggled. I found her other wrist with my other hand and brought her wrists together, encircling them both with my hand as I pulled her back against me, rubbing my groin against her ass as she sobbed and pleaded. I grabbed her hair with my free hand and pulled her upright, her legs splayed for balance as I held her tight against my body, her full, round breasts thrust forward, straining at her bra, her bright blue eyes brimming with tears as Greg walked close to her. He stared into her eyes, and I saw her lick her lips and swallow, calming in my grip. He smiled and reached out to touch the side of her face. She froze, her body motionless but still hot against mine. His fingers ran slowly down her cheek across the tender flesh of her slender white neck. She spoke, her voice controlled for the first time since I had struck her, but still quivering slightly from beneath that control. "Let me go. I won't tell anyone. Just let me go and I won't tell anyone." She swallowed again, silent, waiting for a response, and I waited as Greg smiled, his face shining, his eyes bright, as put his hands on her shoulders, shoulders still shaking slightly from fear and shock. A horrible grunting cry escaped those full, sexy lips as Greg brought his knee up hard, pounding into her groin, making her legs wobble, my arms turning to steel as she tried to jerk away from me in her pain until I was practically supporting her whole body by her hair. She regained control, still gagging with pain, her legs now together, wobbling on unsteady legs, as Greg smiled a sadistic smile, and I smiled right back at him from behind her while John looked on, only his eyes betraying his excitement. "Who told you you could talk?" Greg said, tilting his head to one side, looking into Cathy's tear- filled eyes. "What's her name," he asked me. "Cathy Rollins," I said, savoring the words, savoring the name as if I owned it, as if I owned her. "So Cathy," Greg ran his hands over her stomach, causing her to flinch away from him, but she was a quick learner, and didn't say a word. "So Cathy, you are a beautiful girl. Did anyone ever tell you that?" His hand had found its way to her back, so that he seemed to be embracing her with one arm, his so close to hers. "Answer me!" he commanded, pulling her slightly away from me even as I was rubbing my groin absently against her body, the feel of her warmth, of her helplessness between the two of us, making my whole body throb with lust. A cracked voice, filled with so much anguish I wanted to throw her down and rape her right then answered, "Yeàyes." "I bet someone did, Cathy," he cooed, pressing his body against hers as he began to nuzzle her neck with his lips, her sobs seeming to delight him as his hand found her bra strap and began unhooking it. Tears flooded down her face as she stood immobilized between the two of us, both of us rubbing our bodies against her oh so fucking sexy one. I grunted as I felt Greg free her bra hooks, and I released her wrists and grabbed the back of her jacket and blouse and yanked them both free from her body, pulling them down her arms as Greg held her from the front. I tossed her clothes to the floor and looked at that back, promising so much smooth white flesh. She had her hands against Greg's shoulders, and I could see the way she shuddered her fear, her fear of fighting, of resisting, and I kicked off my shoes and walked around where I could watch Greg play with our plaything. "Beautiful, just beautiful," Greg whispered, his hand running across her back. "Let's take a look at your breasts." He dragged a bra strap from her shoulder down her arm, still holding her body against his. I looked into her eyes, staring off into nothingness, and saw them filled with tears and fear and despair. I dropped my pants, my hand rubbing my cock through my boxers as I watched Greg toy with her, sliding her bra completely off, letting it fall between them to the floor. He ran his hand up along the back of her head, and I saw her body start to shake as he stepped back from her, his eyes devouring her breasts, two full, round, gorgeous mounds of flesh bulging from her chest, hanging slightly under their own weight, looking huge on her slender body, her bright pink nipples hard with fear and the abrasion of Greg's suit. He pulled her back to her, drowning out one of her sobs as he brought his lips to hers, pulling her head down, smothering her with his mouth, his tongue probing into the hot cavity of her mouth. Something must have snapped inside her, because she shoved away from him violently, screaming "NO! NO! You son of a BITCH!", backing away from him like a wounded animal, her arms wrapped around her breasts, making them bulge out from behind them. She looked at me, her hair wild around her face, her face streaked with tears, her eyes, those fucking beautiful blue eyes, reflecting terror and despair; she turned toward John, her eyes pleading, her voice hysterical as she begged him, "PLEEEZZZE help me, please stop this." She should have known better. His face changed for the first time since he had seen her, and he smiled at her, and I could see the terror build in that sexy body of hers as she glanced, trapped, from face to face to face confronting her, seeing only a deep sadism reflected back at her. She tried to run, slipping past Greg who didn't even try to stop her, but I did, slamming into her with my shoulder, knocking her down hard onto her back. Like a pack of jackals we were on her; I wanted to fuck her, I wanted to tear her apart with my cock and hear her scream her brains out as I fucked her. I was shaking with adrenaline and lust as I tore at her boots and her hose and her skirt while Greg and John held down her struggling, squirming body, her screams blending in with my own lust, inflaming me even more as I stripped her nude. "Hold her," I heard Greg say, and I grabbed one of her ankles with one hand while she tried to kick me, my other hand ridding me of my jacket. I grabbed her other ankle and held her, looking for the first time at her completely nude, laying helpless between my and John, who was holding her hands over her heads. God she had a gorgeous body, those tits heaving as she still struggled against us, full and round and firm, her stomach so fucking flat and strong as her muscles ripples beneath that satiny white skin. Fuck, and those fucking thighs so lean and firm and sexy as they writhed in her struggle, her bush a sparse blonde hiding her cunt. Her fucking cunt which I wanted so bad I thought my cock was going to burst as I held her and watched Greg standing over her, his belt in his hand, his eyes wild with excitement, his breath coming fast. "Whip her." It was John, and I could see the lust and sadism in his eyes as they devoured our prize. "NOOOO!" she screamed as her eyes popped open to watch in horror as the belt came down on her taut stomach, the sound of leather against flesh as loud and brutal as her scream. She bucked in my hands as I held her, her body writhing in pain as Greg brought the belt down again, against those tits, making them bounce under the blow as she screamed again and began sobbing. Again and again he brought the belt down, driving the leather into her soft white flesh, against her tits, her stomach, her thighs, turning her skin a bright shade of red as she screamed and sobbed and thrashed as John and I held her down. I couldn't take my eyes off of her straining body, her bucking, thrashing, twisting, screaming fucking body. Let me tell you, let me fucking tell you, there is nothing more erotic than a woman in pain; I had to fuck her. I let her go and stood up, tearing off my boxers and my shirt as she pulled up her knees to her chest, her arms still bound, the only sound in the office now her sobs, horrible, wracking sobs of pain and despair which seemed to penetrate my mind and make my cock throb harder and harder. I knelt down and dragged her knees apart, my mind fogged with lust as I fell on top of her, making her gasp between her sobs. I felt those long sexy legs slide down my side, down my legs, sending shivers up and down my body; I felt those full round breasts squashed beneath my chest, that hot stomach heaving against mine, her whole body an engine running for my pleasure, for my fucking pleasure. I reached down and grabbed my cock, looking at her profile as she turned her face away from me, her eyes clenched shut, her face strewn with wisps of blonde hair sticking to her tears. I wedged myself against her cunt, my precome wetting her, helping me push past her labia until I felt myself up against her hole. She squirmed and struggled still, her teeth clenching as I reached up and grabbed her fucking hair, that fucking blond fucking hair and jerked her head back and smashed my lips against her fucking sexy oh so fucking soft and sexy lips, tasting her scream as I jammed my cock into her dry cunt, tasting her fear and pain and despair as I raped myself into her fucking snatch. I drove my tongue into that hot, wet cavern of her mouth, my whole body on fire as her cunt spasmed around my cock as I smashed the head against her cervix, her legs drawing up in pain and a whining echoing from her throat. Her whole body was taut with denial as I began fucking her hard, drawing my cock from her gripping fucking cunt before driving it back in to pound into her cervix. She was so good, so fucking good, still struggling beneath me, still running her legs alongside my own and my sides as she tried to futily close them, still sobbing and crying and gasping as I tasted her every emotion with my tongue. I had found that wetness deep in her cunt, or maybe it was my own precome, but the ride got easier, and my cock began to thrum along with my body. Each time I drove into her body she grunted. I slid my mouth from those so soft lips and dragged them to her neck, stopping my brutal fucking, wanting this to last, wanting to feel this forever as my body shook uncontrollably as I began sucking on that beautiful white neck, my cock buried to its hilt in her steaming hot fucking cunt. I ground my cock around inside her, savoring the sensations, savoring the sobs of defeat coming from her throat. I started fucking her again, slowly, brutally, feeling my own pleasure build up, forcing myself to go slow, to keep my rhythm steady, feeling my orgasm coming from a long way off, knowing it was coming, knowing I would be spitting my come deep inside the belly of this gorgeous young woman as she mewled and squirmed beneath me. I sucked harder on her neck, then started chewing on it, my hand tangled in her hair, my body alive with the sensation of her beneath me, her neck, her chest, her breasts, her stomach, her cunt, her sweet, sweet cunt, her thighs, even her calves. I felt everything as a low moan began to come from deep within my chest. It was coming, it was coming, I was about to explode even as I held back but I couldn't stop it as I let out a guttural, animal yell, my thighs quivering as my cock throbbed buried deep within her clutching pussy, spitting wad after wad of come into her writhing belly, pleasure almost akin to pain crawling along my spine, making me gasp again and again. She knew, she fucking knew I was coming, and that made it even better, to know that she knew I had raped her, had taken her brutally and filled her with my fucking seed. I lay there on top of her for a long minute, my body suffuse with pleasure, rocked gently by her sobbing body. I lifted myself off of her, my cock still hard as I pulled it from her raped snatch. I stood, looking down at her, at that beautiful, sexy body I had just had. I squeezed my cock, feeling it jerk in my hand with pleasure, as I gazed at those long, lean legs, slightly parted now in defeat, at those slender yet womanly hips, at that flat, gorgeous stomach, at those incredible breasts heaving with her sobbing, at that face, that model's face, more beautiful now streaked with tears and pain. I shuddered and looked at John who looked at Greg. "Who's next?" Greg nodded to John, who smiled, and lifted Cathy up by her arms. She staggered as he grabbed her by the forearm and led her over to my desk. She didn't make a sound as John bent her over my desk while I went to the other side and grabbed her wrists. An idea occurred to me and I pulled some scotch tape from my desk drawer and wrapped it around her wrists. She didn't even look at me, just stood there, half bent over my desk, while I bound her arms. God she was a good looking cunt, I thought. Finishing, I grabbed her wrists and pulled them down on the other side of the desk until her head was hanging over the edge, her breasts pillowing themselves beneath her, pressing into the warm mahogany wood of my desk. "She's got a nice ass," John said, running his hands over the twin mounds of her ass. She did have a great ass, especially for such a slender woman; shapely, full, the skin soft and white and smooth. I was going to fuck her there, I thought as I looked across the table at John rubbing and pinching and slapping her ass, making her jerk against the table where I held her. He quickly stripped, staring at Cathy's gorgeous ass. John's cock popped out, and I smiled. It was big, very big, almost eight inches of meat he was going to feed her. I wondered how she would feel having that thing in her, fucking her, hurting her. I grabbed her by the hair and lifted her head up so I could look into her face, her tear streaked face with those gorgeous lips and those gorgeous eyes. Her eyes were closed, but I could tell just by the expression on her face what John was doing. It must have hurt when he put it in, even though I had lubed her cunt up. Her face twisted and she shuddered, a soft sob escaping her lips at the same time. I heard John gasp, and the sound of flesh against flesh, and I knew he was inside her. Her lips quivered, and her eyes teared up again as I heard the slap of flesh against flesh again, and again, and again, John brutally fucking her abused cunt from behind, like an animal, while I held her head up, watching her face, breathing my breath into hers, watching her pain and her humiliation flash in expression after expression across those gorgeous features, knowing that she knew that I was watching and that it was almost as bad as being raped. I was lost, drunk by the sight of her face, when I heard another sound, and saw her eyes pop open in surprise and pain, those deep blue pools shiny with tears, saw her lips widen in an O as she grunted out a cry of pain. I knew it was Greg, knew it was the belt against her back or her ass, but I couldn't look away from those eyes, from those gorgeous eyes so filled with pain and despair they were actually shimmering. I shivered in pure lust, my cock hard again, hurting, as I watched that beautiful face twist itself into a mask of pain and shame. I heard John grunt, and then grunt again, and I knew he was coming inside her, and she knew, and she closed those eyes running with tears and started sobbing again, each blow of the belt dragging another painful sob from her chest. Then the sound stopped and I dropped her head, letting it fall, and stood, thinking that I should just take that sexy mouth of hers right then, right there, but Greg hadn't had his turn yet. "She's a good fuck," John said, still looking down at her ass. "A sweet goddamned fuck. And when you hit her with the belt, Greg, I thought her cunt was going to snap my cock off." Greg just smiled, and we all looked at each other and smiled. Greg made a motion, and I nodded to John. He grabbed beautiful Cathy Rollins by her beautiful blonde hair and dragged her from her bent-over position, making that beautiful back of hers arch, her breasts jutting out before he threw her rudely to the floor, that hair covering her sobbing face, her hands, still bound, supporting her torso as she lay on her side, those gorgeous legs bent at the knees. I grabbed my cock and gave it a squeeze, feeling it pulse with pleasure in response. Cathy, Cathy was one hell of a looker. Greg went around and rolled my chair, a large leather-bound model befitting a vice-president of a major international corporation, in front of her and methodically stripped off his clothes, his eyes never leaving her prostrate form. The room was filled with silence except for the sound of his clothes sliding from his body and an occasional sob from Cathy. When he finished disrobing he sat down, slumping forward, holding his cock in one hand, straight up in the air. ôCome over here, Cathy,ö he said, his eyes bright with lust, ôand suck my cock.ö We all waited, watching the girl, half wondering what she was going to do, half hoping that she would resist, that she would give us one more excuse to abuse and defile that gorgeous body. She sobbed once, and then began moving, crawling on her knees, toward Greg, her head down, that long blonde hair sticking to the sweat on her shoulders and breasts and back. I watched, my cock in my hand, as she reached Greg, as she took his cock at the base with her bound hands, as she opened those gorgeous, full pink lips and slid her mouth -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |