Something Better
Chapter 1: Monday Afternoon

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Ma/Ma, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Rape, Coercion, Blackmail, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Wimp Husband, Incest, Mother, Son, BDSM, MaleDom, Spanking, Rough, Light Bond, Humiliation, Interracial, White Couple, Black Male, White Male, White Female, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation,

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: Monday Afternoon - An illustrated tale of two young home-invaders intent on making something better of their mis-spent youth. And what could be better than Mary, the sexually deprived wife of the vicar of Skirmish?

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The Reverend Jeremy Jones was tied securely to one of the sturdy wooden chairs in the kitchen of his substantially built stone cottage called "The Manse". The forty three year old vicar was naked and sore from the beating he had taken at the hands of the two young men he had foolishly invited into the cottage for a chat and a glass of wine. He was also frightened at what they had threatened to tell the media and what they might to do to his young wife when she returned from a meeting with the village Women's Auxiliary.

They'd slapped him about and called him a "slimy poofter" and a "filthy fucking faggot" he lamented, when his only misdemeanor had been to stroke the smooth cheek of the younger of the two young men Philip or Pip and to pat the older youth Byron on his exquisitely moulded, denim-clad, rump. He had done nothing to deserve the youths' ire, he thought. Nothing at all. Since his marriage three months ago he had put that aspect of his life behind him. He had started life afresh in this isolated rural community with its dilapidated church and minuscule congregation just before his wedding. He hadn't encouraged the young men. They had come to him looking, he thought, like two animated bronze statues of young angels. They said they were looking for odd jobs maintaining the old buildings, keeping the grass cut in the graveyard they would consider anything, they said. Anything. They had smiled suggestively. He was anxious to help.

They had chatted about this and that. The wine was quite strong, and he did drank three glasses, so he may have been a little indiscreet when he showed them the upstairs bedrooms. Jeremy explained he slept separately from his wife. That was when his "weakness" nearly got the better of him. But, he thought tearfully, he had given them no cause to man-handle him so roughly. To beat him. To make him strip. To threaten to "spit roast" him with one stiff cock up his ass and another down his throat.

Pip and Byron hadn't carried out their threat. Pip had pulled Jeremy's boxer shorts down and Byron had taken his cock out and waved it around under Jeremy's nose. It was long and not at all rigid. Then the youths had laughed because the idea of the homosexual torment had resulted in Jeremy getting a hard on. As they tied him to the chair in the kitchen with the spare washing line they said they'd do it later. Perhaps. If he asked nicely. Now they were upstairs taking an inventory of the recently renovated house that overlooked the overgrown graveyard and crumbling old church of Jeremy's parish.

The village of Skirmish a collection of a few country cottages and two farms was named for a spirited action fought among the gravestones around the church during the civil war. The population was reckoned to be about thirty and declining.

Jeremy heard his wife coming up the path from the garden gate to the front door. Her high heels made a crisp click-clack on the flagstones. The youths heard her coming too. They came quickly but quietly down the stairs. Pip stood in front of Jeremy while Byron moved to stand behind the inward opening door. Pip hissed, "Sh!" to the vicar as his wife fumbled with the lock and opened the door.

The young Mrs Jones didn't see her husband right away. Her view was blocked by a dark-skinned, curly haired, handsome, athletic youth dressed casually in jeans and tee-shirt. Indian, she thought, or possibly Eurasian. Before she could say a word the door was closed behind her. She was startled and turned to see another, equally handsome, youth standing behind her grinning broadly at her surprise.

"Who who are you?" she gasped. "What are you doing in my house?"

Pip, with a grin as big as Byron's, stepped to one side to reveal the Reverend Jones. She saw her husband made fast to a kitchen chair. He was naked apart from underpants pulled halfway down his legs. Mary frowned, unable to understand what she was seeing. She stood with her arms by her side. Tall, blonde, mid twenties. She was neatly dressed in a crisp white blouse and camel skirt. Pip spoke quietly to the dumbstruck housewife.

"We're your new lodgers, Mrs Jones. I'm Pip and the dude behind you is Byron. The vicar invited us in."

"Mary " began the tightly bound priest.

"He tried to get us drunk," said Byron. "Then started to grope me and my little cousin. We taught him a lesson."

"That's not true," protested Jeremy in a shrill voice.

"But we forgave him, eh, Byron?"

"Yeah. Decent of us, wasn't it. And we've decided to stay. Until something better comes along."

"What are you talking about?" said the flustered young woman. "What do you mean 'something better'?" The rapid exchange had confused her. She had no idea what was coming or she would have turned and fled.

"You'll understand in time," said Pip. "Now it's your turn. We're going to fuck you. Grab a-hold of the bitch, Byron, while I strip for action."

The older youth wrapped his arms around the tall young woman's arms and body. He squeezed her to him. Her heavy breasts too big she always thought for her slim figure were forced up and together. She found it hard to breath properly and was horrified to feel the swelling in the youth's groin pressed hard into the valley between her ass cheeks. She struggled and began to protest loudly. Pip took off his tee-shirt. He was wearing a singlet under it.

"Stop it! Stop it this instant," she screamed. "What you're doing is criminal. It's assault. You'll go to jail. I'll"

Pip stopped her scream with his left hand placed firmly over her mouth. A flick knife appeared as if by magic in his right hand.

"Shut up you stupid cow or I'll castrate the little queer and make you eat his bollocks!"

The vicar gave a little squeal of suppressed fear.

Mary Jones was shocked into momentary silence as much by the ferocity with which the threat was delivered as the sight of the glittering, lethal, blade. Pip stood back. He put the knife on the kitchen table. The woman swallowed and licked her lips. Jeremy shut his eyes.

The young man slowly kicked off his sneakers and unbuckled the belt of his jeans. His eyes glittered as he inspected the frightened woman. Younger by ten years or more than the vicar, he thought. Pretty too. Long blonde hair, perhaps not natural? We'll soon see, he thought. He chuckled at the thought.

"Please," said Mary in a quiet tightly-controlled voice. "Please don't do this."

Pip looked into her big brown eyes, much wider now than when she had come through the door. He saw her fear and relished it. He stepped out of his jeans and dropped his y-fronts. His growing cock flopped forward.

"Do what, Mary? Do what? That is your name, right?"

The vicar's young wife nodded. "Yes," she whispered. Her gaze dropped to his groin. Pip wrapped his left hand around his already thick but swelling penis. He started to massage it.

"Please don't," she repeated. "Oh, please don't."

"Don't what, Mary? Don't jerk off?" said Pip quietly."Or do you mean, 'please don't fuck me Pip'?"

The young woman was confused. She hesitated then she nodded.

"Say it," said Pip. "Say, please don't fuck me, Pip." He pumped his cock pulling the foreskin back to expose its plum colored shiny head, and then letting the skin slide forward again. Mary watched in sick fascination.

"P please don't f fuck me, Pip" Mary whispered.

"Okay," he grinned. "I won't this time. I promise."

Byron's strong brown arms had pushed Mary's big firm tits up under her cotton blouse. Pip reached for the knife again. The razor-sharp blade sliced through the starched cotton of the top and then separated the cups of Mary's brassiere. Two more swift cuts and Mary Jones was topless.

"Oh, god," she begged. "Please stop before you go too far."

"Nice," said Pip. "Very nice. More than a mouthful. Hey, Byron tie her arms with the rags. Let's see those tits swing free.

Byron lost no time in doing as Pip said. Mary struggled briefly but Byron was too strong for her. He soon had the young wife's arms fastened her behind her, with the remnants of her blouse and bra. He let go of her and she stumbled forward and nearly fell. Mary's large breasts bounced on her rib cage as she struggled to keep her balance. Pip put down the knife and steadied her. Then he reached for the white, slightly blue-veined, flesh.

Byron stripped off his shoes, socks, underpants, jeans and tee-shirt in less than ten seconds. Like his cousin he kept his singlet on.

Pip kneaded the soft flesh and pulled at the fat brown nipples while his victim kept up a chorus of protest. Her pleas were constant but never rising to a noise level that would cause her tormentor to carry out his bloodcurdling threat against the vicar.

"You've got lovely tits, Mary. Too good for a little faggot like the Reverend there."

"No. Oh no. Please, don't. Oh, god. Oh, Please, please, please, I beg you stop," she prayed.

Tears ran down Mary's face. Pip pulled the tall woman to him and bent her backwards so he could kiss her on the lips. He forced his tongue deep into her throat and when she gagged he withdrew and licked the tears from her cheeks. He let his tongue trace the muscles of her slender neck and the valley between her large breasts. Then he treated each nipple to a prolonged butterfly kiss. He flicked his tongue rapidly backwards and forwards over the rapidly hardening erectile tissue. To her distress she felt her nipples stiffen. How shameful, she thought tearfully. How could she react like that to an uninvited and violent caress? Pip stood back.

Mary looked at Pip's erect penis. He cradled it in his right hand. It was thick and richly veined. The tip was already oozing in anticipation of penetration. She shuddered and sobbed. It's too big, she thought, it will hurt.

"Bigger than the vicar's isn't it?" Pip asked her.

Mary said nothing. Her sobs grew wilder. Pip reached out with his left hand and grabbed her by the hair. He pulled Mary's head down to his waist level and aimed his cock at her mouth.

"I asked you a fucking question, bitch. Is my cock bigger than your husband's button-dick?"

"Yes!" hissed. "Yes. It's bigger. Oh! Pl " She got no further before Pip rammed his erection between her parted lips and into her generous mouth.

"You suck me dry, lady. One hint of teeth and you'll lose an ear," he muttered.

Byron stood behind Mary's raised, skirt-covered, buttocks massaging his long supple cock. Mary's legs were braced apart as she struggled to retain balance on her high-heeled shoes. Her head bobbed up and down controlled by Pip's right hand. He saw Jeremy looking tearfully at him. The young man grinned at the vicar and waved his erection at him.

"Bigger now, ain't it?" said Byron. "Tell you what, maybe I'll let you lick it clean after I've nailed your little lady."

He looked over Mary's blonde mop and saw Pip had backed into the kitchen table and was forcing the woman's head up and down his blue-veined shaft. Byron lifted the hem of Mary's camel skirt and pushed it over her smooth round buttocks. She was wearing skimpy red bikini panties. Byron called to her husband to watch carefully. He snapped the thin band of material at Mary's hip and let the colored rag flutter to the ground. The vicar sobbed in mortification but could do nothing as only a few feet away the coffee colored youth slowly inserted his erection into the pink open lips of his wife's vagina.

Mary tensed as she felt Byron's cock press against her slightly parted outer labia. She trembled violently as she felt Byron's smooth, long, hardness part her pussy-lips and push steadily inward.

"Ah!" Byron exclaimed in exaggerated pleasure. He looked at Jeremy. The little priest was staring in horror at the rape of his young wife. He had started to cry.

"Take a good look. That's your wife's cunt. See how wide it stretches to take my cock. She'd tell you how good it feels if she could speak. She's tight and dry but getting wetter. Ah! How's she going with you, cuz," smiled Byron.

"Sucks unh like a piglet on a sow's teat. Unh!" grunted Pip. "You unh up the bitch yet?"

"'Bout half way oh, that's good, Mary you fuck me back. It'll be easier for you. Ah!Ah! Ah!" Byron started a rhythmic in and out, penetrating deeper into his victim's body with each thrust.

Jeremy looked on, appalled. Byron's muscular buttocks that had attracted his foolish interest earlier in the day now glistened with sweat. They flexed and tensed as Byron hammered his long coffe-colored cock in and out of the helpless, choking, Mary. The vicar couldn't keep his eyes off the heaving, grunting, trio. Despite the distress he felt at witnessing Mary being fucked from behind by one youth while being forced to fellate another he recognized a familiar warmth in his groin. He was getting a hard on.

Soon the head of Byron's cock was bumping Mary's cervix with every furious thrust. She struggled to escape but with her arms firmly tied behind her and Pip holding her head there was nowhere to go. Pip moved her head up and down to keep time with Byron's in and out thrusts. She wanted to scream. She couldn't breathe properly. Tears flooded her face.

She could see Jeremy out of the corner of one eye and could scarcely believe that his cock too was swollen and erect. Mary thought she was going to pass out with pain and shame. Her husband, who had never been very enthusiastic about sex, was now getting a sexual thrill by watching her being raped! She could barely cope with the storm of emotion that swamped her mind and tormented her body. But then, to her indignation, her body betrayed her. She felt a surge of lust when Byron's long, thin, fingers found her clitoris as his cock plunged in and out of her ravaged cunt. She knew the feeling but she had not rubbed herself "that way" since before her marriage.

Unable to resist the animal urge Byron's clever fingers had triggered in her body as he manipulated her clitoris, Mary gave her rampant husband a last sour look and surrendered herself to the young men's savage lust. She found her ecstacy was short-lived. Suddenly her mouth, throat and sinuses were flooded as Pip achieved a climax and spurted thick warm jism into her captive mouth. She coughed and retched as he released her head.

Moments later Byron came deep inside her. She felt the warmth of his ejaculation. As he withdrew his softening cock he continued to rub her clitoris with his fingers. He straightened her body, cupping a breast with his free hand, and caused Mary to shudder in the throes of a minor orgasm. She had stopped sobbing.

When Mary's inadvertent tremors finished Byron dragged the young wife to where her husband sat. He tugged at the waist of her camel skirt and broke the fastening, He unzipped the skirt it fell to the floor. Byron made her step out of the fallen garment. He told her to stand astride the vicar's knees so the bound man could see her come-spattered bush and slightly open, swollen, cunt-lips. She did as she was told. The vicar looked at her with horror. His young wife stood above him naked. She was panting. Her face was spattered with jism. Some of the sticky fluid dripped from her chin to join the ropes of come that slowly dripped from her pussy onto his legs and stiff cock.

"I don't see why we should have all the fun, vicar," said Byron. "Use your tongue to clean up Mary's pussy and, while you're about it see if you can make her come again."

Jeremy looked startled at the idea. Mary still in shock stood looking down at his tear streaked round face. "Come again?" he said. "Oh, no. Surely not. I couldn't"

"Do it, you miserable little worm," Mary sobbed. She thrust her sticky groin into his startled face. "You let these two sexual predators into my house and then took pleasure in watching them rape me. I ought to let them castrate you you Oh"

Pip and Byron looked on as their erstwhile victim subjected her husband to a violent face-fucking which ended only when Jeremy's lips and tongue found her already sensitized clitoris and tender flesh. Mary's final juddering moans marked the end of her fury and she collapsed, sobbing, on the kitchen floor. They untied Jeremy. He stood up shakily He was no longer sporting an erection.

"Bathroom," snapped Byron. "Both of you. Clean up. Then we'll tell you what's going to happen."

"And Jeremy," added Pip. "Shave your bitch's blonde bush. We like our whores smooth."

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