Chapter 1

Caution: This True Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, mt/Fa, Rape, Coercion, Heterosexual, True Story, .

Desc: True Sex Story: Chapter 1 - This story was told to me by Joanie who, with her sister Katie went looking for lust in the wrong place. Happening into a biker bar in Gushing Springs, Texas they get more than they bargained for. Kidnapped by the "Wrecking Crew" they become reluctant weekend "guests" of the gang, qualifying in every respect as member's in good standing of the Wrecking Crew Auxiliary, a group of 100 plus girls that, over the years, underwent the rigorous initiation by Bull, Riff and their West Texas Hog Club.

It was the night before the writer's symposium at Rutgers University in 1981. After an early dinner with one of my colleagues we passed a bar by the name of Rocky's while were walking back to the university. Stopping to look through the window the place reminded me of a spot I used to go while I was working in the steel mill in the summers between college terms in northern Ohio. My memories of the Tremaine Club were sweet. It was a place where men, single and married, met women—usually married—who were trying to get what little excitement, satisfaction and adventure they could from their humdrum and unfulfilled lives. It was in the Tremaine Club where I met a woman of forty-five who not only took my virginity but throughout the summer before my junior year in college showed me the many ways a man could satisfy a woman.

My colleague reluctantly agreed to go in with me but felt threatened with the environment. I assured him that as long as we didn't act like snobs we would be fine. I didn't mention that I was hoping to experience a little Deja vu of the Tremaine, specifically to meet a woman with whom I might be able to spend the night.

Halfway through my second drink I was nursing it to hold out for a likely possibility. But had accepted that nothing would probably happen ... another disappointment in a strange town. Just as I was getting ready to pay my tab an attractive middle aged woman walked in. It was 9:32.

She was dressed in tan Bermuda shorts and wore a sleeveless dark blue top. At about 5'6" the woman with a great figure and gorgeous legs walked toward the bar her breasts, maybe about 36Cs agreeable filled her blue top, bouncing in a beguiling jiggle. The way her nipples were poking the fabric in her top it was clear that she wasn't wearing a bra. She had shoulder length brown hair and, as she came closer I could see that her eyes were hazel colored, absolutely clear. She was scowling as she sat at a stool a couple of places from me.

I heard the bartender say, "More trouble at home Joanie?" She nodded, "The regular?"

She said, "Make it a double."

Considering this woman a prime opportunity I said, "You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Looking at me she rolled her eyes as if to say, "Just what I need some jerk trying to pick me up." Turning her head to the mirror behind the bar she took a sip from her glass then quietly mouthed, "You son-of-a-bitch."

I thought she was talking to me. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to upset you." She didn't respond.

Figuring faint heart never won fair lady I pressed on by saying, "I'm attending a writer's conference at the university."

She sipped again, still fixing the mirror with her angry eyes. Having struck out completely I ordered another drink on the chance that I might be able to turn the tide. That was often the way something worthwhile had happened at the Tremaine Club in Cleveland.

When Rocky brought my drink he rolled his eyes toward the woman. Leaning across the bar he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "She's really pissed this time."

I whispered back, "At me?"

"Nah, at her husband, it happens a lot. She comes here to get away from him." With a sly smirk he cocked his head and confided, "If I were you pal I'd hang in there with her, Joanie's a hot number, and the poor kid needs a break from time to time." He winked his eye at me and moved down the bar, wiping the entire length then began reorganized bottles on the shelf.

Nursing my drink I was deep in thought when the woman startled me by asking, "What kind of stuff do you write?"

"Excuse me?"

"What do you write ... stories or something?"

It must have been the scotch; she was on her second one. "I write poetry and short stories," I responded. "I'm currently working on a novel. I've also written quite a few um ... erotic stories." I was always a little wary sharing that information about my smutty writing with a stranger; not everybody likes that kind of stuff.

Looking around as if she didn't want the bartender to hear she asked in a more interested voice than I was usually accustomed, "Erotic stories?" With an ironic chuckle she murmured, "Boy, have I got one for you." She said it like a person who is going to share the award winning dirty joke.

"A story? I'm always looking for new material." She nodded.

"Although it's a true story I think most people I would tell would think I was bullshitting when they heard it."

"So try it out on me," I said, "I'm probably more open minded than most people you know," hoping it might influence her to get into the sack with me.

"It's not a very nice story," she cautioned. "I've never told to anybody before. But I've read some of those "erotic" stories on line and think there are probably a bunch of people out there to whom this would appeal to if you wert to write it properly." She studied my face for a reaction which I don't give her much of. But it was obvious she wanted to relate it to me. "Do you think you want to hear it?"

When I nodded my head she said, "This'll take quite a while. Do you really think you'll have the time? I don't want to get started and have you get up and leave."

Getting up and leaving was not even on my radar. I hoped that if she started telling me something hot she might get hot herself and give me a tumble. "If you have the time to tell it I have the time to listen. My name's Peter by the way."

"Joanie," she said offering her hand which I shook. "Let's go over to the table in the corner, I don't want anybody else to hear." To the bartender she said, "We're going over to that table Rocky, we'll take another round."

When we sat down we each sipped on our drinks a couple times. "Are you sure you want to hear this Peter?" I looked hard into her eyes and nodded. Taking another sip she began:

"I was twenty-seven at the time. I had been married seven years. I had three daughters by then, Judy was six, Jackie five and Kristina was three and a half."

I responded, "You had your kids in one quick string, huh?"

"I was a good Catholic girl Peter, married to a real asshole. He's worse now." Taking another sip of her scotch she went on, "We were on the verge of divorce—not a good prospect for a good Catholic—when my mother suggested that I get away for a while ... go down to Texas for a couple of weeks and visit my sister Katie. She was twenty-five and single, had a couple weeks of vacation coming up. When Mom offered to take the kids for two weeks I jumped at the opportunity."

Joanie told me that her sister lived in New Braunfels near San Antonio. "Katie took me to see some of the sites in San Antone. We went to the Alamo ... did the typical tourist stuff. We went to a few of bars but were turned off by the prospects ... nothing but wimps pretending to be studs. They reminded me of actors, acting like cowboys."

"Katie lived in a one bedroom; we shared the bed which we did as kids. We weren't kids anymore though. We needed to find separate beds, someplace maybe where I could find a warm, male body to snuggle up to. I was a virgin when I got married. I was a good Catholic girl and was faithful to my husband. But he treated me so badly for such a long time that I was primed for the excitement of a little casual sex."

"Yep Joanie," my sister said to me, "you definitely need to find some horny stud that'll fuck your brains out. Maybe it'll give you a different perspective on life and help your marriage."

"Katie was pretty serious with a guy in town," Joanie said, "a guy she said she hadn't even had sex with. He was a pretty religious man, one of those that seemed to be in vogue in that part of Texas. I really don't know why she was talking about marrying the guy."

They hit the road the next morning. She said her sister told her that there were a bunch of little towns in that part of Texas ... said that they would drive for an hour or so and start cruising some bars. "There's got to be some horny guys out there that would be willing to sacrifice themselves for your sanity Sis." She added, "I'm pretty edgy myself and wouldn't mind getting my horns clipped a little."

Joanie said to me, "Though I liked the idea of having sex with someone besides my husband I can't say I was really serious about it. From my conservative Catholic upbringing it was hard for me to hear my kid sister talking about sex so casually, and about "horny" guys and "clipping horns."

They left the next morning we hit the road in Katie's red Mustang, it had a white racing stripe painted down the middle. After driving for an hour or so they hit a couple of western clothing stores. Joanie bought a hat and a pair of boots. At about four pm they saw a road sign that said Gushing Springs, population twelve hundred and fifty two. There was a grocery store: a drug store, a gas station, a small hardware store and a bar with a maroon sign that hung over the door in the shape of a Harley-Davidson with chopper handlebars —The Chopper.

"Let's check it out," Katie said. "If nothing happens we'll try the next town."

It was hot outside, almost 100 degrees. The sight of two very attractive women walking into the musty bar on the deserted main street of the little Texas town was almost like an advertisement for women's western wear. Joanie, with dark brown shoulder length hair beneath a black Stetson hat, was wearing a sleeveless, lime colored pullover top that enhanced her perky breasts. Her pear shaped bottom filled the tight seat of her Wranglers like the jeans had been designed specifically for her ass. They were tucked into dark brown, lizard skin boots.

Katie, a little shorter than her sister, wore Calvin Clines which highlighted her bottom just like Joanie's Wranglers did. They were tucked into plum colored designer boots. A shaped straw cowboy hat was cocked on her head of long, dirty blonde hair. Her plum colored western shirt with white pearl buttons was tied in a knot, showing her smooth, bare midriff. The three top buttons were undone, advertising the cleavage of her C cup breasts. As they walked into the bar a bell over the doorway tinkled as the frigid air inside made their skin feel clammy.

"Welcome ladies," the bartender said, scanning the tight fitting jeans and well-filled blouses. "It's nice to see new faces for a change."

Katie asked, "Is it always this quiet on a Thursday afternoon?" She had been used to going to "Meat Markets" in San Antonio that convened on Thursday nights, where men and women tried to hookup for the weekend.

"Friday's better," the bartender said with a sinister leer in his eyes, "people knock off early on Friday. But it's not night yet. I'm pretty sure though that you'll see a bunch of guys moseyin in purty soon." He cocked his head and laughed, "When women come in the bar those boys seem to have the sense of a spider when a fly lands in its web. You'll be hearing the sound of their bikes purty soon. Can I get y'all somethin to drink?"

"We'll both have a Shiner," Katie said. This was her territory and she knew the popular beers.

As the bartender drew the beers Joanie looked at the memorabilia on the wall. There was a sign with the picture of a giant bulldog wearing a spiked collar. It wore a leather vest and was holding a sledgehammer. The letters at the top of the sign spelled "The Wrecking Crew," but hanging off the bottom of the sign was a white tag board with black letters that spelled "Wreckers." Just below the sign hung a large picture showing what looked to be about twenty-five guys, all dressed in leathers and vests. In the middle of the front row were two tall men. One was extremely handsome, he had piercing eyes. The one next to him was even taller, probably 6'5" or 6'6". He was handsome too but more rugged looking, kinda like Hulk Hogan—definitely a body builder. The whole gang, with the exception on one skinny guy, looked fit and muscular. None wore shirts beneath their vests—real beefcake.

Setting frosty pints of Shiners in front of them the bartender said, "Yep, those are the Wreckers alright, this is their place ... one's in the middle are Riff—on the left—and Bull on the right. They're the leaders."

Taking a closer look at the picture she studied the two men in the middle. As she scanned down the big one's body her eye caught the triangular patch of denim beneath his leather pants. No picture could hide such a bulge. Must be a distortion, she thought. No man can be that big.

"That's all we need Sis," Joanie said "to be picked up in a biker bar."

Getting cold feet Katie replied, "Maybe we should drink up and get outta here Sis, what do you think?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth than a distant rumble could be heard, closing with great speed. The rumbling intensified as they got nearer until a gathering of motorcycles pulled in front of The Chopper. The racket was making bottles rattle on the shelf. Almost in unison the engines went silent, one backfired. A moment later as the door burst open and the bell jangled a tall skinny guy with a dark brown ponytail and acne scars covering his face came through it. From behind him a voice yelled, "Hey, Needle Dick, when are ya gonna get the timing fixed on your machine?"

Looking over his shoulder the skinny guy shouted back, "Whatsamatter asshole, don't you like my punctuation?" Laughter came from what seemed to be a crowd outside.

The bartender nodded at the girls, "Like I said, 'a spider.'" He clicked his mouth and winked.

When the thin guy saw the girls sitting at the bar, he said, "Jesus!" Turning around he yelled, "Hey guys, there's strange cooze in here ... real nice lookin too."

Neither Joanie nor Katie ever heard the word cooze before but there was no question that it had to do with them being women. "Jesus Joanie," Katie said under her breath, "Let's get the hell out of here fast."

It happened too quickly. A very tall, quite good looking man came in. Both Joanie and Katie recognized that he was the one in the picture that the bartender identified as "Riff."

"Well whaddaya know," he said with a leering grin, "we're in the land of the walking wet." All of the bikers laughed and hooted.

The Riff guy came between Joanie and Katie, draping his arms over both of their shoulders. Looking first at Joanie then at Katie he said over his shoulder to his cohorts, "I'm confused guys; I don't know which one I would rather spend the night with. Maybe they would like to share me." Once again hoots came from the gang.

Joanie looked at Katie who was rolling her eyes. Both thought what have we gotten ourselves into?

"Hold on," said a guy with a soothing voice. He was about six feet tall, had dark brown hair and soft brown eyes. His hair, swept back in a DA, was neatly cut. He wore a pencil thin mustache that made him look like Zorro. Walking to Riff's side he put one arm over the big man's shoulders, his left arm resting on Joanie's.

Looking first at Katie then Joanie he said, "These ladies are our guests boys, let's not be scaring them." To Joanie: "I'm Concho. This here's Riff." indicating the big picture over the bar with his chin, "We're the Wreckers." Back over his shoulder he scanned the room and admonished, "Let's cool it boys." To Katie he asked, "What's your name honey?"

"K-K Katie," she stammered in a little girl voice, fiddling with her hands in her lap.

Turning his head to Joanie he asked the same question, but only with his eyes.

Defiantly she said, "Joanie."

"Joanie-J," he quipped. Turning to Katie he mimicked, "K-K-Katie, those'll be your Wreckers names."

Jutting her chin forward Joanie spat, "I'm not a Wrecker."

Picking up a pitcher of beer Riff sneered and said, "Not yet." He filled his glass. "Once you realize what a great bunch of guys you're with you'll be begging to join ... all the cooze do." He filled her glass then Katie's. Lifting his he proffered a toast, "to Joanie-J and K-K- Katie." The Wreckers, all seventeen of them, echoed the toast.

Concho was definitely a soothing factor. He asked whose Mustang was outside. When Katie haltingly spoke up he asked her where she lived. When she told him New Braunfels he said his family was from San Antonio. He was surprised that Joanie came all the way from New Jersey, and that two beautiful women were in The Chopper at the same time. To Joanie he said, "Most of the women who come here are biker babes, very durable types."

Joanie, who had either been imagining or actually feeling the breaths wafting from Riff's nostrils onto the back of her neck, took offense that Concho didn't consider her "durable." Turning her head she looked up at him and spat, "I can hold my own with any woman." With disdain she asked, "Who's the leader here?"

"I am," Riff said, pushing his chest into her back. Unexplainably his closeness caused a thrill to surge throughout her body.

"What about Bull?" She asked.

"Aha," he said, looking around at the group, "Joanie-J here has been doing her homework." Squeezing her shoulder he pulled her closer. "I'm the field general; Bull's the chief. I don't think you would suit him though little lady. The durable types are more his style.

Taking his comment as an affront Joanie looked up at the picture and assessed the leader. Unable to take her eyes off the bulge in Bull's pants she thought, maybe "durable" is the right word. Just the same she felt added wetness between her legs and thought God forbid that it should come to that.

When the pitchers were empty the bartender drew another round. Katie had become a little looser; Joanie was feeling a slight buzz. As the beer took effect the Wreckers seemed less threatening amid the laughter and loud talk. They could have been a softball team after a game. God knows they smelled like it. They had interesting names like: Riff, Concho, Flapper, Curveball, Ski jump, Side Car, Road Kill, Lightning, and Turtleneck. Then there was Cruit, Cauliflower, Eyeballs, Skank, Fudge, One nut, Crip and Needle Dick.

Needle Dick asked, "Have ya ever ridden a Harley before Joanie-J?"

"I've never ridden any motorcycle, much less a Harley. Have you Sis?"

Katie, who with the effect of the beer appeared much more at ease, shook her head, "no."

"Then maybe you ladies would like to feel a hog between your legs."

Feeling her alcohol Joanie turned to Katie and said loudly enough for everybody to hear, "I never would have thought I would have to be involved with pigs," which brought forth a chorus of sarcastic hoots.

"Did ya hear that?" Needle Dick said to the group, "This girl could be a real pain in the ass."

Riff, as if he were corralling his cows, put his arms over both girls' shoulders and said, "She must have been talkin about you, Needle Dick." The gang erupted in laughter, beating their glasses on the bar.

Needle Dick scowled and said, "Shit!"

"So whatayathink, Joanie-J," Riff asked, "Would you want to go for a ride on a real bike?"

"Like how far," she asked.

"Just a few miles so you can get the feel of it."

She had always wondered what it would be like. "What do you think Katie," would you like to go for a ride?"

"I-I'm not sure," she said.

"It sounds like fun to me," Joanie retorted. "Don't be a weenie Sis." The alcohol was making her feel daring. Deep down though she knew she shouldn't leave the safety of The Chopper, if there were anything safe about it amidst all these rowdy males.

When it came to mischief though, Joanie always had a strong effect on her younger sister. Not giving her time to think she slid off her stool and hooked her arm through Riff's and grabbed Katie's arm. "Let's go sweetie," she urged in a sudden jolt of bravado, "there's no time like the present to have ourselves a thrill." Through her haze she had the feeling that if they tried to fit in with the gang they would be safer. Maybe we can bullshit our way out of this.

They all trooped outside into the reddening sun. Riff threw his leg over his dark red Harley and kick-started it as he patted the seat for Joanie to get on behind him. Katie walked out with Concho, his arm around her waist. He mounted his pearlized, emerald green Hog and started it. She climbed on behind. All seventeen bikes were rumbling their patented Harley Davidson sound. Riff pulled out first, followed by Concho. Needle Dick was last in line.

As Riff twisted the accelerator Joanie's neck snapped back as she clutched at his waist, her feet coming partially off the foot rests. Feeling unsure of her stability it was scary, the road seemed so close. But as the wind rushed past her face, blowing her hair, she felt her nipples tingle. It was thrilling. She had never experienced such a feeling of speed, never felt so vulnerable or accessible, and so dependent upon a man for her safety. The urge to wrap her legs around Riff's waist and hump her pussy against his tight buns surprised her.

Good sense dictating her words she asked, "When are we going back?"

Riff turned his head and yelled back, "Eventually." Slowing the bike he turned right onto a narrow country lane. Twisting the accelerator he was quickly up to sixty again.

Looking behind she could see Katie's light brown hair being swept back by the wind. She had one arm around Concho the other hand holding her hat down. She wasn't smiling. When their eyes finally met Katie's were pleading. Joanie just hoped they would turn around soon and go back to The Chopper.

After driving a couple of miles on the dirt road Riff slowed the bike and turned left into what looked like a driveway—there was a mail box at the corner. About two hundred feet from the road was a large, old and weathered two story house with cracks showing in the gray paint. Joanie could see that the entrance was set up like a ranch: two telephone poles on either side of the driveway with another lying across the top. As they neared it she read the sign that was hanging down, "The Wrecking Crew," centered by two skulls.

"Why are we going here?" she asked.

"You have to meet Bull."

"And then you'll take us back?"

"Of course," he chuckled.

"Why do we have to meet Bull?"

"It's a Wrecker rule, Joanie-J. Any cooze we find at The Chopper has to meet with Bull's approval."

"But," she said "we just stopped in to see what was happening in the town."

"Doesn't matter Joanie-J, y'all are eligible so Bull has to approve."

"Eligible for what?"

"To be members of the uh Wreckers Auxiliary," he explained. "There are probably a hundrt and fifty or so members in it now. It's an honor ... going all the way back to the fifties. But you can't join until Bull approves."

"But we don't want to be members," Joanie said.

"You don't have a choice Joanie-J. Don't worry though, you and your sister will like Bull; everbody does. And in the end you'll love being with the Wreckers."

Like a line of ants the gang rode into the Junkyard, the name they had given the clubhouse. Forming a tight group they were ants having found sweet crumbs. Like a drill team, Needle Dick bringing up the rear, their engines died at the same instant. Riff slid off to the right, taking Joanie's reluctant hand. "We shouldn't keep the Bull waiting."

Looking back at Katie Joanie saw Concho helping her off his bike ... definitely a scared deer. She wanted to talk with her younger sister but there was no way she could get close enough. Riff's hand was holding her bicep; he wasn't being rough, just purposeful. Concho directed Katie in the same way.

The front room of the "Junkyard" was set up like a living room. There were two couches and two armchairs—all maroon leather, stained with years of hard use. In the middle was a large coffee table strewn with biker and girlie magazines, a porno magazine on top. Large tiffany lamps sat on four occasional tables at the end of the couches. As they walked into the next room Riff yelled for Bull to come see what they had brought for him. Joanie was pissed that he referred to she and her sister as "something" rather than someone, like they were pieces of prime meat.

The next room was the original family dining room. It was larger than the living room and had been converted into a bar. Oak wainscot, about 36" high, went all the way around the room. Above the wainscot the walls were painted maroon; there were all kinds of biker decorations on the walls. Like all those old houses the ceilings were really high. Two ceiling fans hanging from the high ceiling waggled slowly.

At the end of the room, between a stairway on the left and a door to the right, was a beat up oak bar. It came off the wall about six feet and was surrounded by eight oak swivel stools. Over the bar were the same Wrecking Crew sign that was at The Chopper and another sign that said "Welcome to the Junkyard." Under the sign was the same picture of the gang. On either side of the large picture was an 8x10 picture of Bull on the left and Riff on the right. The wall to the right of the bar was covered with framed, 8x12 pictures—over a hundred of them. The earliest ones (15 or so) were in black and white. The rest were in color. They were all head shots, mostly of attractive women. Some were kinda rough looking—the "durable types." Judging by the hairstyles the pictures went back as far as the early fifties. A large black sign with pink script lettering read, Tits and Clits.

Through the door on the right came a giant of a man, probably 6'6." He was so big that he seemed to darken the room. He was buttoning the top button of his Levis. Bare-chested, his pecs covered with a mat of hair looking almost like breasts, he wore boot socks. His rugged, handsome face sported a blonde walrus mustache. His damp blonde hair hanging in a ponytail told of his recent exit from the shower.

"Well, well, well" the big man chortled, "look what my boys have brought me." In total scrutiny his eyes ogled the two women. To Joanie he asked, "Sisters?"

With a shy smirk she said, "Yes," daring to return his gaze with a deep, resentful stare of her own.

"Even better," he mused. "By the way darlin, I respect your attitude." Recognizing the obvious fear on Katie's face he said, "You and your sister have nothing to worry about here. We're not like the Hells Angels; we're not animals. We're civilized Hogs. What's your name, Hon?"

She started to answer but Riff cut in, "This here's Joanie-J, and her sister's K-K Katie."

Holding up his hand Bull ignored Riff. "I apologize for my friend's enthusiastic response honey. What's your name?"

Ordinarily she would have been irritated being called "honey" by a stranger. But so many men in Texas call women honey or sweetie or darlin that it wasn't worth getting upset over. "I'm Joanie. This is my sister Katie."

Spreading both arms Bull said, "Are these ladies prisoners or something?" Looking around the room he put his hands on his hips. "Let go of their arms for Christ's sake. We're supposed to be welcoming our guests, not terrorizing them."

As Riff's hand released her bicep Joanie's angst eased. Bull, though such an imposing man, made her feel welcome. Though rough he seemed like a gentleman. She shuddered as she felt the warm coating of mucous lubricating the membrane between her labia. But the sensation, instead of announcing pleasure seemed to be sounding an alarm.

Through a roguish smile Bull said, "Welcome to the Junkyard ladies. Would ya'll like a drink?"

Joanie answered, "We were drinking Shiners at The Chopper."

In a matter of fact way Bull said as he walked behind the bar, opened the refrigerator and took out two frosted glasses, "We've got it on tap." After drawing each one with a perfect head he set them on the bar then drew another for himself. With a smile he nodded at the glasses, indicating for the girls to pick them up. Lifting his own he toasted, "It's such a pleasure to be in the presence of such beauty." Holding his glass high for them to touch the women touched theirs to his. "The Wrecking Crew welcomes you."

After sipping his beer he set his glass on the bar (the girls held on to theirs). Turning, he opened the fridge and took out enough glasses for everybody else, filling them just as perfectly as each of the Wreckers, from Riff to Needle Dick, took their glass. When he was finished he lifted his glass and said, "Thanks for taking good care of these ladies boys." To the women he said, "I assume they treated you okay?" Shaking his head he said, "I don't like physicality or crudeness," to which there was a general rolling eyes and leering smirks from the Wreckers who were all standing behind the girls.

"With the beers and the toasts," Joanie thought they were home free. But the 'initiation' seemed to be taking on a different life. Bull didn't push anything though. He just talked with the girls asked about our lives, where they lived, where they grew up, what their families were like. Did Joanie have children? Was she happily married? Did Katie have any prospects? It was like meeting someone in a bar. With the beers the girls had at The Chopper, coupled with the ones they just finished, they had become quite mellow. He pulled two more beers and handed them to them.

After drinking about a quarter of the beer in the glass Joanie began feeling woozy. She heard Bull say, 'Something wrong, sweetie?' She shook my head to clear her thoughts ... told him she didn't think so, that maybe she might have had too many beers. Feeling dizzy she put hand hands flat on the bar to steady herself.

"Ya know what I think, Joanie-J?" Bull said, "I think it's because you had those powerful bikes between your legs, sittin behind these studs..." When Joanie looked at Katie the alarm went off. Her head was lying on her crossed arms on the bar."

The next thing Joanie knew she was lying on a big round water bed. She remembered a black ceiling fan going round and round. "It made me feel like my face was following it round and round. Bull was standing with his back to me. He was straddling my left leg, pulling on my cowboy boot. "Put your foot on my ass and push Joanie," Bull said. She felt like she was suspended in a fog. "Do it baby," he commanded. She pushed on his ass and he worked her boot off. He did the same thing with the right boot.

He turned around, leaned down and peeled her jeans over her butt and off her legs. "Raise up, baby," he said. Joanie lifted her ass off the bed and he stripped off her panties. "Beautiful," he whispered. "Give me your hands darlin." She complied and he pulled her limp body to a sitting position. She slumped as he pulled up her lime green sleeveless top. "Raise your arms, sweetie." When she lifted her arms he shucked off her top. Reaching behind her back he unhooked her bra. As she felt her breasts give way to gravity Bull commanded, "Lay back," Her back plopped on the cushiony buoyancy of the waterbed. She seemed to be floating.

Looking down at her from what seemed to be a Godlike height Bull told her to put her feet on the edge of the bed. Obeying the intimidating male's command Joanie put her heels on the board that held the waterbed in place. "Spread your legs darlin." She spread her legs. His eyes went from her mound to her breasts, to her face then back between her legs. She saw his lips pucker and heard his tiny whistle. "Open your pussy for me baby."

His dominance was like catnip. Putting her fingers on her pussy lips Joanie opened herself to him. "Tits and clits," he murmured with a satisfied chuckle, "They're all so fucking beautiful ... and each one is different in its own way."

He straightened up and worked the metal button of his Levis through the buttonhole. Casually, he unzipped them and pushed them down, stepping out. There was an incredible bulge, a huge floppiness in his boxers, a bulge so large that Joanie thought she was hallucinating. Standing in front her completely naked with his log of a cock protruding so imposingly, she remembered the picture of him that she saw at The Chopper, the bulge in his jeans where his leathers were cut to a triangle, exposing the plumped up fabric beneath.

With unbelievable charm he said, "Kiss it baby." Joanie not only kissed it but lovingly kissing it. Sucking cock was nothing new to her; her husband's had been in her mouth hundreds of times ... all of it, many times deep in her throat. The problem she had with Bull's was that his head alone looked like it was too big for her mouth. Tentatively she gingerly touched the precum in his slit, an amount she couldn't even imagine in her husband's.

"Come on Joanie," he said as he put his hand on the back of her head, gently encouraging her forward, "open up; it's fit in all the other women's mouths, even the little ones. You'll do fine." His eyes were hypnotizing her.

Opening her lips she licked them and skated her mouth over his bulbous head. She couldn't believe how big it was. But he was right; even though she felt like her mouth was stretching she got him inside. Pulling her head to him he slid his incredible bulk over her tongue until his plum-like head touched the back of her throat. Most of his was cock still outside of her mouth. When she gagged he pulled back to allow her room to breathe.

"This is for me Joanie-J," Bull said in a soothing voice. "I'm just gonna fuck your mouth for a bit and cum, ok?" With his cock plugging her mouth she looked obediently up into his eyes and nodded yes. Slow and easy he moved back and forth in her mouth. Joanie was beginning to enjoy the way his warm flesh felt as it slid over her tongue and the shock of his size passed as the head of his cock gently bumped her soft pallet. Making a trough with her tongue she created a cradle for it to slide in, then moved her tongue forward and back to enhance his pleasure.

"That's it baby," the big man coaxed "yes Joanie that's good, very good. You're such a sweetie."

With his left hand he caressed her head, combing his fingers through her hair. With his right hand he fondled her cheek, her neck and under her chin. All the while, as he held her eyes with his, he smiled and sighed, gently fucking her mouth.

Increasing his pace Bull's nostrils flared as he grew more excited. His lips formed an oval as he whispered, "yes, yes, yes." With her head sandwiched between his hands he started pumping faster. Even as his ginormous phallus moved so purposely she could feel the strong pulse of his heart beating in her mouth."

"I'm almost there Joanie," he muttered between clenched teeth, "yes, baby I'm ALMOST there." His body tensed. "I'm gonna cum in your mouth honey, k?" as if he needed to ask her permission. Just the same she wiggled her head, yes, as if she really wanted it.

I was still difficult for Joanie to understand how Bull's cock could be so big that the part that was still outside of her mouth was still longer than her husband's full cock. With his hand wrapped around the part of his shaft that wasn't in her mouth he started jacking. His body tensed and jiggled as the bag of his walnut-sized balls brushed and bounced on her chin.

Like he was in a trance Bull went completely stiff. Joanie could feel the gouts of sperm that were forcing their way through his urethra and knew what was coming. When it spewed into her mouth Joanie couldn't believe how much cum he was shooting. It was like a thick, warm chug-a-lug that felt like he had broken two Grade A, extra-large eggs and dropped them into her mouth.

As she gulped the huge rope of his sperm Bull cried out, "Jesus Joanie, JEEEEZUS." Recoiling again his cock clutched and let go another flood. "Holy shit, baby," he cried, as three more times his massive penis flexed and spewed. His cock began softening but even in that state it was more sex organ than she had ever had in her mouth before, more than she had ever conceived.

Flopping on his back, the water in the mattress gurgled and surged. He threw his left arm across Joanie's back and hooked his fingers on her side, pulling her crosswise on his torso. Putting his hands under her arms he encouraged her to straighten on his body until she lay on his huge frame. Feeling the cum-wetness of his softening cock it began shrinking into a bunch on her belly. Hugging her he wrapped his legs around her.

"You know what Joanie-J," Bull asked and answered, "You've got great tits. Hugging her body to him he said, "I love how they flatten on my chest." His hairy curls tickled her nipples and his full mustache tickled between her nose and lip like a feather. Again she was surprised at how sensually this big man kissed and was acting.

"This is exciting kink Joanie, don't you think? I love the taste of my cum on your lips ... love the smell of it on your breath." He tongued her mouth. "And it always amazes me how much softer a woman's lips are after a blow-job."

Searching her eyes he smiled and said, "I have a compliment for you sweetie pie; you undoubtedly have given me one of the finest blowjobs I've ever had."

Joanie said to me with obvious pride, "I imagined preening myself at the compliment. I felt good. At the same time I got pissed. Jesus, I thought, "this guy just forced me to perform oral sex on him. Now is he gonna rape me? "Yet with all this maneuvering I was still feeling good about sucking the bastard's cock. What the hell was wrong with me? And I wondered what Katie was going through?"

Bull seemed to be reading her mind. "I know baby, it's probably hard for you to figure out but each and every one of the Tits and Clits girls has gone through this. Most of them have come back for more ... some even ten years after they were initiated."

"What's going to happen to my sister and me Bull?" Joanie asked. She was disappointed that the question came out of her mouth like a pathetic whine.

"I told you baby," Bull said, not answering the question, "the blowjob was for me. Now this is gonna be for you."

Kissing her lips Bull eased his tongue inside Joanie's mouth as his hand went between her legs. Skimming her honey filled crack with his large finger (everything about Bull was big) until he found her clitoris. As his fingertip covered her clit it felt to Joanie like she was being touched by a frankfurter. When he pushed his finger inside her cunt not only did it feel huge, he did something she had never experienced before. Hooking his finger against the front of her vagina he rubbed what she later found out to be her "g-spot." Each time he pushed the bulging spot it seemed to grow fuller and she became incredibly wet with little squirts. It was as if he were pressing the bottom of an antique oilcan, pushing out drops of oil with each press of his fingertip. But to Joanie each drop felt like a thrilling spurt.

When he pulled his finger out it was soaked; she was soaked. Her labia felt like they were being marinated in the juice of canned peaches. As he washed the slippery sauce over her clit with his huge fingertip it sent shocks coursing through her body. Pressing but not too hard he diddled her clit. As his finger skimmed its surface her toes scrunched with unexpected pleasure. When her body was in the throes of her climax Bull murmured, "So you like it darlin?"

"Yes," she expelling a five-SSSSS whisper.

Bringing his wet finger to Joanie's mouth he glossed her lips. The smell of her pussy coupled with the taste of her sex on his finger was something she hadn't experienced before, felt and tasted strange but she liked it. After she suckled it like a hungry baby Bull kissed Joanie's mouth, sliding his lips over hers, skating in the coating of her joy-juice. Opening her mouth with his tongue he explored it further, trading saliva.

Fingering her clit again he pushed harder than before. In her second orgasm which was harder and longer than the first, she bucked against him. With his finger working on her electrified protuberance her entire body spazzed, making her shudder in places she never expected. Even her anus puckered and twitched. Jesus, she thought, one more climax and it will be as many as I've had in more than any month.

Climbing out of bed Bull rolled Joanie's body over and reached for a pillow, putting it between the edge of the waterbed and the hard board that surrounded the mattress. Lifting Joanie's ass he helped her scootch on top of the pillow, her legs hanging over the edge of the bed. In one motion he grasped her ankles, spread and raised her legs, dropping to his knees.

As she felt his hot, wet mouth covering her pussy she trembled. The hairs of his walrus-like mustache were like feathers that tickled and titillated the insides of her thighs, sending tendrils of excitement up to her nipples. Like all parts of Bull's body his tongue was imposing. As it totally covered her quim the huge buds on the surface of his tongue felt like velvet on her bubbling vulva and electrified clit. Phew, she fancied in her ecstasy I feel like my entire existence is blooming in my cunt.

With his head between Joanie's legs she looked over his muscular back hunched in his labor of love as he repeatedly grazed her button, igniting masses of nerve endings that she never knew were there. Kicking and squirming into another orgasm she heard Bull slobber, "Go for it babe, come for the Bull."

It could have been an epileptic fit that jolted Joanie's body in jerking vibrations. Jesus, she thought that's three ... all the best I've ever had!

Gripping each butt-cheek Bull spread them, sliding his tongue from her clit to her anus, rimming her tender rosebud then racing to her reeling node. Pressing his lips tightly against her pussy he could have been a trumpeter playing a high pitched solo. But the solo was coming from Joanie's mouth in elevated screams.

When Bull stood up it was like a giant genie coming out of a bottle. His mustache had become limp and straight from being soaked in Joanie's nectar, his monster cock protruded from his groin like a truncated tree limb. Her eyes were opened so wide that her eyeballs, like in a cartoon character, seemed to be bugging out of their sockets.

His balls looked like they had been grafted onto his body from a rodeo bull. His huge paw was wrapped around his fat shaft still holding half of his cock. The first four inches, the part Joanie had sucked, was reddened. Five more inches was hidden in his grip, his giant knob was almost blue, fat like a shiny plumb

"You look surprised Ms. Joanie-J," Bull chortled.

Like an awed child she said in a small voice, "I just can't imagine that THING fitting inside me." She was helpless. He could have done anything he wanted to her ... and she wanted him to, even if it was going to hurt her. Her cunt was literally drenched with wanting but she still couldn't believe he would be able to get it all inside her.

"Oh, ho, ho" he laughed as if he was reading her mind, "It'll fit inside you alright sweetie pie. And you'll not believe what it's going to do to you. I have that on good authority from at least seventy or so of those Tits and Clits who have preceded you."

The pictures of the women she had seen on the wall raced through her mind. Biting her lip she watched as he spit into his hand and slathered saliva over his bulging plum. Steadying his huge cock in his hand he bent his knees, bringing his member even with her pussy. Craning her neck she lifted her head, watching as he rubbed his glans in her sopping groove, the massiveness of what she felt against her pussy, almost overwhelming her.

"Just relax Joanie-J," he said. "Take a couple deep breaths, like they taught you in Lamaze." When she raised her eyebrows questioning how he knew, he explained, "You've had babies sweetie, they're not very apparent but I can see the stretch marks on your belly. So, sweet Joanie," he chuckled and went on, "if a baby has come out of this cunt of yours Bull's cock will go in."

He made a couple of false probes, not pushing in, just getting her used to his size. He was being gentle with her and she was thankful but was afraid that he wouldn't continue to be. As Joanie did Lamaze breathing he pushed his glans against her hole and began easing it open. Jesus, she thought as she felt herself stretch, he's trying to force that fucking thing inside me. When the plum-sized head popped past her vaginal ring she couldn't believe what was happening between her legs.

"Stop, STOP," she pleaded. "Wait, PLEASE" With the head of his cock plugged just inside her pussy he stopped and said, "It'll be alright Joanie," caressing her face with the back of his right hand and fondling her right breast with his left hand. Jabbing in and out in tiny probes he calmed her saying, "Sh, sh."

Biting her lip like a little girl getting a shot she nodded her head in tiny Okays as his cock moved about a half an inch inside. On her breast he coned his fingers to her nipple and squeezed. At the same instant he pushed his cock another half inch inside her.

"That hurts," she said, feeling his finger and thumb pinching her nipple harder. "Ow!" He kept squeezing. It was the first time in her life she had had her nipples pinched.

Riveting her eyes Bull said, "If you want the pleasure Joanie you've gotta accept the pain. You've gotta just trust me on this one."

She glared at him as she thought, sure, you asshole, like you're raping me and you expect me to trust you. In the twilight zone between trust and terror she winced as he pinched harder. The excruciating pain in her nipple made her open her mouth to scream and at that exact moment the stinging stopped and her breath sucked back in.

She screamed, not because of the pain but because of the shock of what was happening, not to mention the feelings that Bull's steer-like cock was causing as it filled her pussy—totally. This, her fifth orgasm, was so intense that she swooned. When she came to her ears buzzed like she had been knocked out.

His voice seemed to be coming through a fog. "Joanie, Joanie," he complimented her, "I've never seen a woman come so hard that it knocked her out."

Knowing that she would take of him all he pushed deep she knew she was incredibly tight. As the giant python slithered slowly inside her hole she thought the process would never end. But when his plump head bumped her cervix with a dull "ker-thunk" she had to blink her eyes as she realized that the monster was finally inside her. Something else, she had her first ever vaginal orgasm. But she was clear enough to recognize five orgasms! How good is that? At the same instant she imagined that she was inside the confessional at her church. Filled with guilt she thought, how am I going to tell about this in confession?

As he moved his gargantuan penis in an out of Joanie's hole, each time the plum hit her cervix his massive balls thumped against her ass. It seemed like a pile driver was going, thump, thump, thump, doing things to her insides that she would never have imagined.

Like a water canon finding gold nuggets on a cliffside mine it was uncovering nerve endings that she never knew to exist. Slamming her seven times caused her to come again, and she blacked out. When she regained consciousness his bull-sized meat was still fucking her. Realizing that he had been pumping for at least ten minutes with no indication that he was going to cum, Joanie couldn't believe that it was true.

It was like some kind of strange dream; Bull was still fucking her. "Let's try something else," he said, starting to pull his cock out.

"No," she pled, not wanting him to stop, wrapping her legs around him as tight as she could. But she couldn't squeeze her legs together anymore; his torso was just too thick.

As he pulled out Joanie couldn't believe how deep his dong had seated inside her, or how long it took to come out of her pussy. "Don't worry he said. I'm just going to let you ride me for a bit."

Rolling off he told her to straddle him. Unsteadily she inched her knees on the sloshing waterbed and threw one leg over his body. With his hand he positioned his upright cock. Joanie took the plum of his head, held it to the opening of her pussy and lowered on him. Though it was still a tight fit it was easier to take him this way, and she took him all the way to his head bumping her cervix again.

She 'oohed' like a little girl when she rode to the top of Bull's pole then squealed as she slid down again. In between he would buck up, thumping her cervix. Even though the bumping hurt like hell it still filled her with waves of pleasure. As they fucked he pinched and pulled her nipples with one hand while she savaged her button with her own fingers. But she didn't really need to, she was on fire. It seemed like Bull's cock was flipping switch after switch throughout the core of her pussy, shocking her body with huge, ecstatic electrical impulses.

"When they both got their second wind they humped to Joanie's sixth climax. Suddenly she thought, Jesus, what if I get pregnant? At the same time though she didn't care if his head was pressed tight against her cervix and he force-filled her womb full of his wriggling sperm.

Pulling his cock out of her like it was a cork in a wine bottle Bull threw her back on the sloshing waterbed. They went 69 and his tongue, like wild butterfly wings, fluttered on her clit, making her cum again ... and again. Though his massive bulk occupied so much space in her mouth and she was having trouble breathing, she had almost stretched her esophagus wide enough to take him all the way down, and wondered what it would be like to die of asphyxiation with this huge thing in her mouth.

Bull repositioned the pillow on the edge of the bed. He helped her up so she could get on her knees with her shins resting on the pillow. "Cross your arms darling," he said, "and put your head on em. Now stick your ass way up in the air Joanie-J and move it back toward me a bit."

As her head lay on her hands Joanie felt his plum-sized cock opening her. To her amazement it was like they had been designed for each other. As his pole sank inside her it touched off tingling explosions, even throughout her cervix. Bucking back she took him in completely as her eyes bugged out again like a virgin being opened for the first time.

Leaning his body forward Bull covered her naked back with his chest. The fur on it tickled Joanie's flesh as he wrapped his arms around her body, cupping her breasts and flattening them with his hands. In the warm ecstasy of complete togetherness, totally plugged with his supreme maleness she shuddered, "Oh Bull it feels so fucking good."

Being ravished by this Titan's fat, thirteen inch cock was like living through some kind of surreal dream. It was just a short time before when she had been shocked at the thought that he would try to force that gigantic log inside her inadequate pussy. Now she was conflicted, she wanted him to spurt his seed inside her. At the same time she wanted him to fuck her forever, to never stop. Using the f-word made her feel brazen. She, the good Catholic girl, hadn't used it much before. At that moment though it just seemed like the most natural thing in the world for her to say.

His belly smacked her ass as he slammed her, his engorged glans thumping her battered uterus. Doing it again and again the shock of his jarring thrusts caused such a buzzing in her ears that she couldn't even hear herself shout the rapturous shrieks of her seventh orgasm, my seventh orgasm, for chrissakes! And why I even counting them? Her body felt like a fish thumping on the bottom of the boat after just having been landed. And while she quivered and shook it felt like her cunt was a fist trying to squeeze the life out of Bull's pulsating organ. With her head still on her hands her breath finally subsided enough for her to gasp, "Jesus Christ Bull you're fucking INCREDIBLE!"

And Bull? He was on the cusp of his own orgasm. Letting go of Joanie's tits he grabbed her hips, his man-sized thumbs digging roughly into the cheeks of her ass. Like a rutting moose he bellowed and humped with gathering speed, slamming her harder each time. She couldn't even have described what that huge thing sliding inside her felt like. He was grunting and gasping, fucking to an extreme that can only be characterized as Homeric.

Joanie was hungry for Bull's thrusts. Yet having been given so many cookies she was eager for his satisfaction. At the moment his thumbs dug more painfully into her buttocks and she knew it would happen. In her mind she was going to be the one 'Tits and Clits' woman that he would remember all of his life. Bucking back to meet his plunges she gasped for breath. Slamming the massive meat deep inside her he held her ass tight against him. She could feel his cock swell, the beating of his pulse pounding like a bass drum. Sounding like the wind had been knocked out of him Bull gasped then sucked in her name, "Joanie, Joanie, JOANIE."

"Holy shit," he yelped as gouts of semen squirted inside her pussy, squeezing her so hard that her ribs hurt. She could feel the pressure in her overfilled pocket as it began oozing out and sagging down the inside of her thigh. Grunting like a pig Bull kept humping, his slippery cock moving in and out of her sloppy cunt, making a squishy, slurpy noise that to Joanie's ears sounded deliciously nasty.

At the table in Rocky's Bar Joanie was laughing as she told me about the pussy fart. Then she became serious, kind of awed when she said, "As a young married woman, the thought of a man licking his load out of my pussy would have been so disgusting. But here I was with more cum leaking out of my cunt than I would have ever thought possible. It was oozing and sagging into my pubic hair and dripping on the bed. When his tongue started lapping and making that slurpy, squishy sound I winced and my body went rigid. I wanted to please him so I just kind of put up with it. I was amazed though that, at the time, it just seemed so natural to him. I wondered how many of those women in the pictures this Bull of a man had done the same thing to."

"I guess I'll never know if he really liked it," she said. "Maybe this was just his trademark kinda thing, like the fireworks at the end of the day at Disney World. I only knew how quickly I grew to love it. I couldn't help but imagine how all his other 'Tits and Clits' girls must have loved it too. Had I been in position to do it I would have gladly sucked his soft and cummy cock, a thought which, had I been at home with my husband doing the same thing would have disgusted me, at least at the time."

"Suddenly he pressed his lips harder on mine and searched with the tip of his tongue to find the opening of my pussy. Intrigued I was fraught with anticipation. What was he going to do? I couldn't believe it Peter; he was blowing inside my pussy as if it were the mouthpiece of a trumpet. As he continued to blow, like filling a balloon, I became frightened ... thought if he kept blowing I might explode or he might damage my insides in some way. I was as tight as an over-filled tire inside. But just when I was ready to beg him to stop he sucked out as hard as he could—apparently he couldn't force anymore air in and his sucking the walls of my pussy, collapsing upon themselves. The sound was muted because his mouth covered me—a muted pussy fart," she giggled. And with an embarrassed blush on her cheeks Joanie looked at me and laughed out loud.

"This experience was new to me," she said as if still amazed, "and so exciting. The nastiness of him sucking all that cum out of my pussy was wickedly exhilarating. It became even more bizarre when he raised his head and smiled. A tiny stream of sperm trickling from the corner of his lips and there were flecks of white goo on his moustache."

The way Joanie was breathing I wondered if she had just had an orgasm. Her nostrils flared and her hazel eyes were dilated. I looked down at her thin sleeveless top and could see how her nipples had become hardened almonds. She told me that when the fog cleared she realized that Bull was snuggling with her ... that his wet cock was spooned into her ass, a feeling she had never experienced. She loved it.

"But all of a sudden it was over." She said that he got up and told her that she had to go to another room.

"When Bull was pulling my off boots on that strange waterbed," she said, "I was still under the influence of whatever they used to drug me. I knew what he was doing was wrong and there was no doubt in my foggy mind that he intended to have his way with me. But after having been eaten and titillated for fifteen minutes or so, then gloriously fucked for a solid forty minutes, I would have willing become his slave. I had fantasized about other men before but my wildest imaginings and fantasies had never even come close to creating something as amazing as this big man, Bull, had done with me."

"I had twelve orgasms Peter," she told me, "TWELVE FUCKING ORGASMS, all great. I'd never had more than two with my husband ... not two at a time but two ever. When my husband ever lasted more than five minutes that was a break through. To be honest Peter, when my husband I and fucked I usually got myself off by rubbing my clit. I thought every man was like that."

"So," I asked, "what did Bull tell you about what was going to happen to you and your sister?"

"He didn't. He snuggled with me for a few more minutes then got up, went to his dresser and pulled out one of his tee shirts; it was a faded black Wreckers shirt.

"Put this on Joanie," he said, "No point in you're getting dressed for a while. You'll just have to take your clothes off again."

"I did as he said. His shirt was huge, an XXX-L. It hung down to my knees. At the moment though, he was so sweet and told me, 'Joanie, even in that big t-shirt, you're one of the sexiest women I've ever met.' I really wanted to spend the rest of the night in bed with him, if only just to sleep with his huge, warm body beside me. As long as I was with him I would have taken anything he would have given me."

"He finally said, 'that's it Joanie-J you've passed the test. Go down the hall to the other end. The door goes up to the dormitory. You'll find a bed up there. Your sister will be there too.' I hesitated, not wanting to go."

"Go on now, ' he said, 'there's something else I have to do... '"

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / mt/Fa / Rape / Coercion / Heterosexual / True Story /