The Wives of Beverly Row 5: Lust Has a New Address Page 2

  Peter got up onto the bed and sat next to her. He reached up and touched the side of her face gently. There was a stray lock of hair falling in front of her face and he brushed it carefully behind her ear.

  “You’re such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he said.

  She nodded. She realized she was holding her breath and tried to relax.

  He took her jaw in his big, thick hand and pulled her toward him so that he could kiss her. She shut her eyes as he slid his wet tongue into her mouth. It would all be over in a few minutes if she played along. That’s what she told herself as Peter’s disgusting tongue slid around in her mouth, licking her lips and her tongue.

  “If you were mine, I’d never share you,” Peter said.

  Zola looked at him blankly. She tried not to listen to his words but it was impossible to ignore them completely.

  “Would you like that?” he whispered in her ear. “Would you like to be mine? To be completely mine and never he shared?”

  She didn’t know what to say. Was this a trick? Was he going to go back to Jake and tell him what she’d said, or did he just want to hear her say that she wanted to be his. She didn’t care what she said, she didn’t care whether she was Peter’s or Jake’s. Either option was a living hell as far as she was concerned. But she wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear. More than anything else she didn’t want to get in trouble with Jake, she was too afraid.

  “Would you like me to be yours?” she said.

  She closed her eyes as his tongue slid into her ear. It was an awful sensation. She hated it. She tried to keep a blank look on her face. Peter’s hand was groping her chest, pulling down the small triangles of satin that covered her nipples and pinching them between his coarse fingers.

  “I was asking what you’d like,” Peter said. His hand had slowly moved down from her nipples, gliding over her flat belly, her navel, and down to the waistline of her panties.

  She knew what she had to do. She had to please him. She had to say what he wanted to hear. It was the only safe course she could take.

  “I want to be yours, Peter,” she said. “I want to be all yours. I want you to own me. I want you to dominate me. I want you to show me what it’s like for a woman to be truly taken by a man.”

  His finger insinuated itself inside her panties and began rubbing against the little nub of flesh that was her clitoris.

  “How does that feel?” he said.

  His tongue went back into her ear and the slippery wetness of it almost made her scrunch her face in disgust.

  “So good,” she lied, as Peter’s finger went further down, sliding inside the lips of her vagina.

  Peter took his hand out of her panties and began taking off his own clothes.

  “Should I strip too?” Zola asked.

  “Not yet,” Peter said. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

  She watched him take his clothes off. It wasn’t a pretty sight. He was so out of shape, so poorly put together, that she almost felt bad for him. He had a big gut of flabby, white flesh. On his back were moles and thick, black hairs that looked like pubic hairs. His penis was large and erect but with ugly, purple veins crawling up it like vines. His scrotum looked like a hairy little purse made of wrinkled pig skin.

  When he was completely naked he got up onto the bed on his hands and knees with his back to Zola. She wondered what he was going to make her do. It looked like he had some strange game in mind, the way he was kneeling, looking out the window on the far side of the bed. Maybe he was going to tell her to ride on his back like a horse.

  Peter reached around to his own ass and pulled the cheek open with his left hand. He supported himself with his right.

  “See my anus?” he said.

  Zola’s heart caught in her throat. What was this? What was he going to make her do? She wanted to run from the room but she was too terrified.

  “Yes,” she said, weakly.

  “Don’t be afraid of it.”

  “I’m not,” Zola said, but the truth was that she was petrified by what Peter was going to make her do. She looked at the pink muscly anus surrounded by black hairs.

  “Embrace it,” Peter said.

  “Okay,” Zola said, but she wasn’t sure what he meant.

  He looked back over his shoulder at her. “You don’t have to lick it if you don’t want to,” he said.

  “No,” Zola said. Her voice caught in her throat. She thought she might cry, or throw up, or just faint from not being able to breathe. She was so tense that she couldn’t even take a breath. She felt on the verge of having a panic attack. “I want to. Really I do.”

  Peter smiled and nodded, an awful grimace spreading across his face.

  She sat up and grabbed Peter’s ass, a hand on each cheek, and spread it open. He removed his hand. She held his cheeks wide open and then leaned slowly forward and very gingerly let her tongue touch the skin of his anus.

  “That’s it,” Peter sighed.

  Zola kept her eyes closed. She didn’t swallow. She let her saliva drip from her mouth out onto Peter’s ass as she continued to lick the pink circle of his anus. She’d never felt so filthy and disgusting and demeaned in her entire life.

  “Keep licking,” Peter said.

  She ran her tongue around his anus, and then let it slide down his crack toward the back of his awful, wrinkly scrotum, licking the back of it.

  “Oh, God,” Peter said, moaning in pleasure. “That feels so good.”

  Zola wondered what kind of a man he was. What kind of man enjoyed having his anus licked by a woman? Was he secretly gay? She didn’t know. She wondered if he was too ashamed to ask his own wife to do this, and that was why he was here, making Jake’s wife do it for him instead.

  “Now spank me,” Peter said.

  “What?”

  “Just do it,” he said, and he sounded so insistent that Zola didn’t even dream of disobeying him.

  She sat up and drew back her hand and then landed it firmly on his ass with a loud smack.

  “Again,” Peter said.

  She spanked him again and again.

  “Harder,” Peter cried out as she continued spanking him.

  Zola was spanking him so hard that her hand was stinging.

  “Harder,” he kept begging.

  “I can’t,” Zola panted, her hand as red as his butt cheeks. “I need something to do it with.”

  “Okay,” Peter said. “What do you need?”

  She looked around the room. There was a round, wooden tray on one of the dressers that she kept perfume on. It wasn’t perfect but she would be able to use it to spank him and it would be a lot less painful for her.

  She got up and quickly took the perfume from it. Then she brought it back to the bed.

  “Hit me with it,” Peter said. “Hit me as hard as you can.”

  Zola was amazed at how hard he wanted to be hit but she didn’t care. She was just glad that she wasn’t still licking his anus with her tongue. She was sure she would have a bruise on the inside of her wrist from all the spanking but anything was better than licking his horrible asshole.

  “Hit me,” Peter continued to beg and when she started spanking him with the wooden tray she put all the strength she could muster into it.

  “Again,” Peter cried out.

  Again and again she brought the tray down against his tender butt cheeks. They were so red that she was almost afraid to go on, but there was a part of her that enjoyed hitting him. She felt as if she was somehow punishing him for the things he’d made her do. She wanted him to feel pain.

  She thought about everything she’d been forced to do to him as she hit him with the tray, about Peter and Jake fucking her together, about all the things Jake was making her do, and she swung the tray so hard that when it finally crashed against Peter’s ass, it split in two with a loud slapping sound.

  He cried out in pain as the wooden tray shattered into splinters of broken wood.

  Zola was gasping for b
reath. She looked up at Peter. He’d collapsed onto the bed. His ass was bright red and must have been burning with pain. His face was buried in the bed sheets. What was wrong with him? What kind of man wanted things like this?

  “My coat,” he said. “Get my coat.” His voice was weak, he was panting.

  “Where is it?” Zola said.

  “The bottom of the staircase,” he said.

  Zola hurried out of the room toward the stairs. She had no idea what he wanted from it. Maybe she’d hit him too hard. Maybe she’d seriously injured him. When she got to the bottom of the stairs the thought suddenly struck her that she could escape. She could run right out the front door and over to Ariel’s. She would be free and safe, but for how long? Eventually she’d have to face Jake, and what would he do to her if she left Peter lying on the bed like this.

  She banished the thought of escape from her mind and ran back up the stairs with the coat.

  “Okay,” Peter said. He was still lying facedown on the bed. He looked back at her.

  She couldn’t help thinking he looked completely pathetic. What was it with this man? He looked like a child who’d just been spanked for being naughty. Zola was used to men like Jake who liked to dominate her. She’d never really experienced a man like Peter before.

  “There’s a bottle of lotion in the pocket,” Jake said.

  Zola checked the pocket and found the bottle. It was a soothing, baby lotion.

  “Pour it onto my ass and rub it in, gently,” he said.

  Zola squeezed the bottle over Peter’s ass and let the cool white lotion drip onto his ass cheeks. She could only imagine how soothing it would feel after the spanking he’d just received. She also poured some of the lotion onto her wrist, which was still stinging from all the spanking she’d had to perform.

  “Rub it in,” Peter said.

  She gently rubbed the lotion all over his ass, trying to soothe the pain that she’d created with the spanking.

  “Get it into the anus too,” he said.

  She pulled his ass cheeks apart and made sure the lotion got right into his ass crack. She paid particular attention to his anus, making sure she got a lot of lotion onto it.

  “Good,” Peter said as she rubbed the lotion into his puckered asshole. “Now finger me.”

  Zola looked at him. He was looking back at her over his shoulder.

  “What?” she said.

  “Finger my asshole,” he said. “Do it.”

  She looked down at his ass and spread the cheeks open again. She poured more lotion onto his anus and then, with the index finger of her right hand she began to slide it deep into his tight asshole.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Now finger-fuck me. Fuck my asshole.”

  Her finger was already deep in his anus but she didn’t move it. She was confused.

  “Do it,” Peter cried. “Do it hard, in and out, and fast. Fuck me like a bitch.”

  She poured more lotion over the area of his anus and then began sliding her finger all the way in and then all the way out. She slowly drew it out and then pushed it back in. Peter sighed in pleasure.

  “Fuck me like a bitch,” he cried again.

  She began to slide her long finger in and out of his asshole, faster and faster.

  “Call me a bitch,” Peter cried back to her.

  “You’re a bitch,” she said. She felt silly but she didn’t care. She was going to do whatever she was told. She didn’t care how she felt. “You’re a slutty, fucking bitch,” she said.

  “Yes,” Peter cried. He was squirming against the sheets, rubbing his cock against them. This was what he liked.

  “You fucking slut,” Zola said as she continued to pump her finger in and out of Peter’s ass.

  “Stop,” Peter cried suddenly.

  Judging from the way he got up from the bed, she figured he’d demanded she stop because he was about to orgasm and didn’t want to yet.

  He got up on his knees and turned to face her. His penis was right in front of her and it was throbbing with each pulse of his heart. He was on the verge of orgasm.

  “Come here,” he said to her.

  She got in front of him.

  “Reach between my legs and put your finger back in my ass, slowly,” he said.

  She did as he asked and put her hand through his legs so that she could reach his asshole. Then she slid her finger back into his lubed anus. His cock throbbed when her finger slid in.

  “Get down beneath me,” he said to her.

  He wanted her face beneath his cock and she knew it was so that he could jizz on her. She lowered herself so that her face was down below his penis. She looked up at him.

  “Fuck my ass,” he said. “Keep fucking it, and open your mouth.”

  She looked up at him and opened her mouth like she was desperately waiting for water from a well. Each time she slid her finger into his anus, his cock throbbed and jerked up like it had been shocked with electricity.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Do it faster.”

  She ran her finger up and down, in and out of his asshole and his cock began to pulse up and down. It was almost as if his cock was in some way connected to his asshole, which she supposed it was. It was perfectly normal for stimulation on one part of the body to affect another.

  “Keep doing that,” Peter gasped as she continued to drive her finger up into his anus. “And open your mouth, wider, wider,” he gasped.

  Zola strained to open her mouth as wide as she could. She looked up at him and drove her finger up deep into his tight asshole. The spasm in his cock that followed was bigger than the others.

  “Oh God,” Peter cried out.

  She drove her finger up harder than ever. Peter’s cock literally jerked up and he gasped as if he was going to die. Zola didn’t know what was going to happen.

  “Jesus Christ,” he called out.

  She drove her finger up again and this time, as his cock jolted in muscular contraction, a long string of sticky semen squirted out of it and sprayed across her face. It landed on her cheek, just below her eye.

  “Oh God,” Peter cried out again and took a hold of his cock so that he could direct it at Zola’s mouth.

  She drove her finger up into his anus again and another stream of sperm flew from the tip of his cock. This time it landed across her mouth. Some of it landed on her lips, the rest went into her mouth and down onto her tongue.

  Zola moaned as if she was enjoying it. She wasn’t. She smiled at him and she could see that the look of pleasure on his face was excruciating. As she continued to slide her finger deep into his asshole, he squirted more and more semen all over her face, in her mouth, on her eyes, on her lips. When he finally stopped squirting sperm on her, she let her hand fall from his asshole.

  “That’s my girl,” he said. “Lick it all up.”

  She ran her tongue over her lips and caught the sperm that was on them and brought it into her mouth.

  “Show me,” he said, looking down at her.

  She opened her mouth and let him see all of the semen that was in her mouth. She put it on her tongue and stuck it out so that he could see his semen sitting there in a pile on her tongue.

  “Oh, that’s my girl,” he said.

  He reached down and wiped the sperm from her eyes.

  “That’s my good girl. Swallow what I gave you. That’s a good girl,” he said.

  She swallowed the sperm. It had a strange, metallic taste. Then she wiped her face on the sheets.

  Peter suddenly seemed to be in a great hurry to leave. He got down from the bed and started getting dressed.

  “Next time I’ll give you more pleasure,” he said. “I’ll fuck your cunt. I’ll eat it. I promise.”

  Zola nodded, although that was the last thing she wanted from him. He finished getting dressed and then left the room. She listened as he descended the stairs and went out the front door.

  Zola only realized how tense she’d been when she heard the front door close behind him. The
n she started gasping for air, the relief that he’d gone flooding over her all at once. Tears flowed down her face. She hadn’t realized just how scared she’d been till Peter was gone. Now the tears flowed freely and they wouldn’t stop.

  As she lay there, her face sticky with Peter’s cum, his taste still in her mouth, she knew that she had to do something to change her life. She had to take action.

  III

  AFTER A LONG, HOT BATH and a lot of tears, Zola finally felt ready to leave the house. While she’d been getting ready she jumped in fright every time she even thought she heard a sound at the door. She was terrified that another of Jake’s friends would drop by and pay her a visit. She knew she couldn’t go on with her life like that.

  She did her best with her makeup to hide the fact that she’d just spent the last hour crying. She wore dark glasses and a scarf when she left the house. She looked like a famous actress who was trying hard not to be recognized.

  Despite all of her efforts, as soon as Ariel opened the front door, Zola began crying all over again.

  “Oh my God, Zola, what happened?”

  Ariel was so confused. She’d seen Zola just two hours earlier and now here she was, a completely different woman to the one she’d left earlier.

  “Oh, Ariel, you won’t believe what I’ve just been through.”

  Ariel could tell that Zola was in shock. She was crying hysterically as she brought her through the house to the kitchen.

  “Calm down, dear,” Ariel was saying. “You’re safe now. Nothing can happen to you while you’re here.”

  Zola tried to get a hold of herself. She took deep breaths and fought back the urge to give in to her feelings.

  “Tell me what happened,” Ariel said. “I want to know everything.”

  “It was just after you left,” Zola said.

  “What was?”

  “One of Jake’s friends paid me a visit.”

  “A visit?”

  “Yes.”

  “Zola, what are you saying?”