Chapter 2

Tim Cartwright drove with the car window rolled all the way down, the cool night breeze ineffectual against the swirling heat of his inebriation. The drinks he'd had only a couple of hours ago were headier than ever in his bloodstream, and were making his already maddened emotions a hazy blur. He glanced savagely at his lovely blonde wife who was sitting far over against the door, and the sight of her demure, righteous expression enraged him all the more. She hadn't talked to him since she'd demanded to leave the movie, and that was just fine by him!

Some hot piece of ass he'd married! Out of bed Melanie demanded all the little things involved with a story-book romance, with her teasing and suggestive remarks and her provocative come-hither looks. But she was all sham as far as he'd been able to determine in two years of bedding her; all sugar-coated icing on a flat, stale cake.

Goddamn Melanie! He loved her very much, and he'd be deliriously happy if only she was a woman, a red-blooded female who wanted him physically. His cock and balls were aching for the loving caress of a sensual wife, but all he'd been able to expect from her was the responsiveness of a pound of calf's liver. He often pictured the ideal situation with Melanie mewling and moaning with pleasure as he made love to her in a hundred different ways, and she in turn writhing and sucking and kissing him with unquenchable lust just like that little teen-age bitch had been doing in the sex movie. He could almost feel the creamy secretions of her nakedly hungry cunt as she whispered his name in pleading supplication, and he groaned as he drove, gripping the wheel tightly, knowing all too well that her pussy was as dry and arid of moist desire as the Sahara Desert in summer.

Goddamn it! This was the last night before he went away to New York City for God only knew how long. He had to have her! He had to and no question about it! He was going to fuck the shit out of his young wife tonight whether she liked it or not, come hell or high water!

Tim drove more recklessly than was usual after he'd been drinking, his lewd and obscene desires firing his liquored brain until he was unable to think of anything except Melanie stretched out naked on their large double bed. Christ I'm drunker than I thought! he told himself, but he didn't care... he didn't care about anything except fucking!

They entered the quiet residential street on which their apartment house was built, the car tires screaming as he suddenly braked in the parking lot beside the red brick building. Still without a word between them, Melanie and Tim, both tight-lipped, took the elevator to their sixth-floor apartment. Melanie stood to one side and tapped her foot with irritation as Tim fumbled with the key to the locked door.

Inside the sparsely furnished living room, Tim drew his wife to him with an abruptness which surprised her. Her wetly parted lips were smothered as he pressed his mouth hotly to her. She felt herself go rigid as the warm quivering eagerness of his tongue bid for entry into her mouth, and then she gently pushed free of him.

"I... I'll make some coffee," she offered in a gasping voice.

"I don't want any damned coffee," he snarled down at her. I want a drink."

"But..."

"A drink, damn it! Can't I have a drink in my own fucking house?"

Melanie cringed from his yelling voice, turning around so that he couldn't see the tears forming in her eyes again. The evening was ruined. Their last few moments together, and it was ending in bitter and hateful quarreling. She took off her coat slowly, and then almost fearfully, she said timidly, "Are... Are you coming to bed, Tim?"

"Damned right I am, baby," he grinned with drunken lewdness at her. "Soon as I pour myself a drink. You go get yourself all ready for lover-boy. Because he's rarin' to go tonight!"

He watched her slump off in the direction of their bedroom, and then with a disdainful grunt, he stalked to the cabinet where the bourbon was kept. He didn't bother to find a glass, but unscrewed the cap and tilted the glass neck directly to his mouth. The hot liquor burned all the way down to her stomach, making Tim feel slightly nauseous for a moment. He staggered to an easy chair and sagged down in it, lifting the bottle up to take a yet greater swallow. A few seconds later he was rewarded by a lightheadedness that swirled heatedly through his blood, and he raised the bourbon still again to take more of the soul-inflaming alcohol.

His long, hardened penis was bent mercilessly in his pants, and he could tell that he was oozing seminal fluid from its passion-throbbing blunt tip, soaking into a wet stain in his white underpants. Never had he felt so hot and intensely aroused, the combination of the drinking and the lust-arousing SINFUL STUDENTS film boiling in his mind with ever-intensifying desire. The pain in his doubled-up cock was now excruciating to him, and with the desperation of the drunken man he was, Tim reached down and fumbled for the fly of his trousers. The zipper protested, because the sitting position he was in made for awkward maneuvering even for a sober person, but slowly he was able to lower it until his white underpants bulged through the narrow opening.

Tim Cartwright looked down at the protruding bulge. There it is he said drunkenly to himself. There was his hard cock with which he'd fucked his share of girls in school. He was a damned good looking guy, and he didn't mind telling himself so, for enough eager and willing girls had while they'd been rolling in the sack with him. He had a tall, broad-shouldered shape to his lean, muscular body, with a tanned face and a smile that they all said could have been used in a toothpaste commercial. He ran his hands through his rich black hair and stared morosely down at the aching bulge that was enlarging from the open zipper of his pants, and Tim thought to himself that a fat lot his good looks and big cock was doing him now.

Trembling with pent-up frustration, he touched the swelling flesh and felt a tremor race through his loins and buttocks. The narrow band of thin white underwear seemed to widen of its own volition as he ran his fingers along its frontal band, the sensations he was causing himself almost too overwhelming to be withstood. His fingers caressed the stiffened cock, its outline hard against his underwear, and then he pulled the material aside. Like a steel spring unwinding, the fleshy shaft and blood-swollen head of his hotly aroused penis shot free and out into the open air.

Tim stared with fascination down at his own erect cock, seeing the lust-bloated hardness quiver with anticipation. He'd never seen it bigger! His fingers caressed his large, rigid shaft, and the cool air of the living room made it tingle all the more maddeningly.

For Christ's sake, this is stupid! he chastised himself. I haven't done this since I was a Boy Scout! But he continued almost without conscious effort, the foreskin folding back as his hand stroked the long burning length of his cock. Sperm churned in his hotly tormented scrotum, and he could feel the rising of his impending cum building in the base of his penis. He sat in his living room chair like that for a long moment, staring down at his rock-hard cock as the full fist of his hand wrapped around its shaft and pumped up and down with furious speed, his breath becoming ragged and hoarse.

It was only then that the drunken young husband realized that he was too far gone to fight the primeval urges his body was thrusting upon him, and with a violent surge of salacious lust, Tim Cartwright leaped to his feet. He started his desire-wracked body toward the door to his bedroom, his hand once more enclosing over the turgid hard length of his erectly pointing cock. Yes... Toward the bedroom and his wife Melanie... Ready or not, here he came... !

Melanie had gone into the bedroom feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness and despair. She began to fold back the sheets of the double bed, wondering what had gone wrong with the evening and what she might have done to avoid this awful situation. Had she been unfair to make Tim leave the theater when she had? Was she being too demanding of him to treat her with respect? No... if anybody was too demanding, it was Tim. Physically demanding, she thought, and she shuddered at the knowledge of what would probably happen to her in just a few minutes. It seemed to her at times like now that the only reason Tim married her was for her body, and that all he ever had on his mind was sex. He wanted to make love to her almost every night, and then like an animal at times.

Melanie shuddered involuntarily again. The thought of Tim's huge, brutal hardness tearing into her defenselessly tight vagina made her tremble with fright. Didn't he know how to be gentle and patient with a woman? She had been a virgin when she'd married him, and he certainly had been aware of that better than anyone else. She had dated many boys before she'd met Tim, and had engaged in the usual back-seat petting with a few who had appealed to her more than others. She had even on occasion let a couple of them brush their hands over her full ripe breasts, but despite their pleadings she had never let it go any farther. It had aroused her somewhat, she admitted to herself, but she had always overcome this by strict concentration on the moral values her mother had drilled into her.

Her mother was extremely religious and had made Melanie attend church with her every Sunday without fail, when most of her other friends had been running off to play. Her mother had also given her persistent warnings on the evils of "s-e-x" and the innate beastiality of men. Melanie had told Tim frankly about her strict upbringing because she wanted to be a giving and loving mate for him. All she had ever asked in return was for him to be patient with her and understand why she didn't believe in pre-marital intercourse or all the lewdly wicked positions in which some uninhibited persons indulged. Tim had promised he understood and would cherish her wishes...

But he had not, taking advantage of her love and trust in him even before they were married to press his baser instincts. She had never gone "all the way" with him during their courtship, but several times it had been very close, being all she could do to control the both of them in their moments of passion.

Often, in compromise, she had let him reach under her sweater and unfasten her brassiere, and caress her nakedly exposed breasts while they were petting in the back seat of his car. One time they had parked inside the garage of her parent's house where it was very dark and private, and he had massaged her painfully full breasts into a maddening hardness until she had allowed him to slip off her blouse and brassiere. He had suddenly taken one of her nipples into his wetly eager mouth, and the gentle playing of his tongue around the chip-like bud had nearly driven her insane with new sensations. She had hardly noticed when his hand had slipped under her short skirt and had begun to caress her creamy white upper thighs.

"No, Tim, no!" she had gasped, sensing that she might not be able to hold him back this time. But he had kept on stroking her, insinuating his outstretched middle finger under the legband of her thin nylon panties and into the moistly heated slit of her virginal vagina. It had started a tingling sensation that she had never known before, and she squirmed around on the car seat beneath his hands, her heavy breathing fogging up the window beside her.

"Tim, not now, darling, wait for our wedding night..."

He had paid no attention to her and she had heard the metallic sound of his zipper opening. She had tried to pull away with a suddenly gripping panic, but his finger between her thighs had been probing up into her wet vagina, sending electric thrills of rippling pleasure up through her that froze her to the seat. She had not been able to move for the moment as the delightful sensations raced around inside her body, and he had taken this to mean she had surrendered her will to his abuse. He had stretched the elastic legband of her panties farther aside, and suddenly tried to roll over on top of her to insert his fleshy male hardness. At the last possible moment she had clamped her legs tightly together and trapped his fully exposed penis painfully between them.

Tim had struggled like a maniac to pry her thighs apart and get the tip of his rock-hard penis up into the wetly throbbing opening of her vagina. But she had been possessed with the fearful certainty that she must wait for a wedding ring, and had struggled with all her strength against his attempting rape. Just as he had forced the head of his straining cock under the legband of her panties and the throbbing blunt tip was poised between the unwantedly spread lips of her cunt, she had felt it begin to jerk out of control. Tim had gasped and she had felt hot, thick liquid spurt out from the end of his penis and drench her matted pubic hair with his warm white sperm. It had covered the insides of her thighs wetly and had dripped down between her legs to moisten the car seat beneath her squirming buttocks.

Tim had emitted a final groan and had collapsed over her body as she began crying with uncontrollable hysteria. He had tried to comfort her but she had refused him to even touch her, feeling soiled and dirty and humiliated beyond belief. But later, she had calmed down enough to realize that Tim was only a man and controlled by the fevered desires her mother had always warned her about. She had scolded him and made him promise never to do that to her again, reminding him that it was just as much his responsibility as hers not to let himself get carried away before they were married. He had apologized and had never made any serious attempt on her virginity after that.

It had been a wonderful wedding night, and she had felt a complete woman to have been able to give up her virginity to him. Nothing else in the world had ever felt so good as his hotly throbbing penis stretching her tiny hymen and then slipping wetly all the way up inside her belly. The thrills he had given her that night had raced too wildly through her for her to think of her original fears, and she had relaxed her tense inner muscles to give him greater access to her womb. With each delightful stroke he made, she had been able to feel her bridegroom's penis jerking into greater hardness until at last the white hot semen that had once spilt all over her outer skin surged in seemingly unending streams to inundate her inner cuntal walls and fill her belly to its fullest.

Yet strangely, she had not felt that mysterious peak of excitement that she had heard women could enjoy as well as men. "Climaxes," she'd heard whispered from the lips of her girl friends; "orgasms," she had read in the few forbidden sex manuals she'd glimpsed through. Or maybe she had experienced a cumming like her new husband had, only she hadn't known it... Confused and bewildered, Melanie had always been too ashamed and reticent to ever ask about what she might be missing. Still, it had felt good for her, and she had always tried to be agreeable when Tim had wanted her. And then had come his lurid demands for perversions, and his increasing estrangement as though he was tiring of her...

God, how times have changed, Melanie thought bitterly as she smoothed out the bottom sheet and stood up. Tim's actions during that dirty movie tonight were the worst yet. In spite of what everybody else says, maybe her mother had been right all along...

She undressed quickly then, folding her dress and underclothes in a neat pile on top of the clothes hamper. As she waited for Tim to finish drinking and come to bed, she looked at herself critically in the full-length mirror attached to the wall beside the bureau. Melanie Cartwright was a slim woman, about five feet six inches, and her body was beautifully and symmetrically proportioned to her size. Her blonde hair hung long, and when she let it fall down across her shoulders, it partially covered her voluptuously full breasts. She did that now, thinking that she looked very sensual that way, and almost brazen. She swept the hair back up again, studying the creamy white skin of her breasts and the pink aureoles that made large, perfect accents for her small, bud-like nipples. She raised her arms over her head, stretching her globular breasts taut, and she looked like some classic nude sculpture from the Golden Age of Grecian art.

She stood that way for a long moment, letting her eyes roam down across the flat plane of her stomach and the cute indentation of her navel. The curly blonde hair of her sparse pubic triangle was silky and golden, highlighting the pink fullness of her vaginal lips. And she could see the tiny tip of her clitoris peeping shyly out from the softly rounded flesh of her cuntal valley. She pirouetted lightly, examining the dimpled curve of her satiny buttocks and the rippling smooth muscles of her calves. She had long, curvaceous legs which tapered from the firm swell of her thighs down to her neat little ankles and small, dainty feet.

I've got a good body, Melanie thought, I really do! But it hasn't brought me full physical happiness in two years of marriage...

Suddenly the bedroom door burst open, hitting the wall behind it with a resounding crash. Tim stood in the doorway, breathing in every inch of her lovely nakedness. He had seen her naked before, of course, but never like this! Every sensual detail of her unadorned flesh was lucidly clear to him in spite of his drunkenness, from her tiny rising nipples down to the soft curls of her pubic hair that nestled invitingly below her soft white belly. His eyes blazed with the uncontrolled lust which was burning through his loins, and his immense, fully exposed penis pointing and jerking ahead of him as he moved deliberately across to where his young wife stood in dreadful apprehension. He held his massively rigid cock pointing at her with his hand still beating frantically up and down its lust-hardened shaft.

Melanie felt fear clutch at her throat until she thought she could not breathe. Dear God! This was worse than the time before they were married, when he'd nearly raped her in the car with all his clothes on, only his zipper down to expose his genitals! At least then, he hadn't been flaunting his... his member at her like he was now, and playing with himself so wickedly!

"I've got to have you," he breathed raggedly at her. "Right now, right here!" Melanie cowered back, whimpering with fright. He stepped closer and then grabbed his naked wife with his free hand, sweeping her to him despite her protests. She was hauled ruthlessly against the hardness of his lust-burgeoning cock, and she could feel the pounding heat of his rigid penis against her trembling flesh as she stared abjectly up into his desire-contorted face. His eyes were more obscenely glittering than she had ever seen them before, and his mouth was tightly drawn back over his teeth like a wild animal ready to pounce on some unsuspecting prey.

"Tim! My God, Tim, please! You're drunk!"

"Damn straight, I'm drunk, woman!" he snarled down at her thickly. "Drunk from wanting to fuck you!"

Tim's hands explored her warmly naked body with rough callousness, clutching and squeezing her soft, sensitive flesh as his penis throbbed excitedly against her cringing belly. Melanie struggled feebly for one panicky moment, but she couldn't fight his overpowering strength, and she thought desperately that perhaps if she gave in a little it would help return him to sanity. She thrust her moistly parted lips against his mouth and flicked her wet, pink tongue between Tim's teeth. He sucked it hungrily, his own returning kisses burning her like a firebrand.

"Easy, darling, please be gentle with me..." she murmured entreatingly into his ear, but the drunken young husband was beyond hearing her pleas. There was no verbal response from him, just a deep-throated growl of desire rumbling from his throat as he pulled her cruelly toward the open bed. She felt herself fall upon the mattress and roll to one side, and then she dimly felt him crawl up on the bed beside her, hovering momentarily with an evil grin of pure lasciviousness spreading across his alcohol and passion-lined features.