Chapter 8

Jennifer became almost sick with shame as she opened her eyes the next morning. It was a good thing Tom was still away on a business trip. He would have known something terrible had happened if he'd seen her come in the night before.

How many men? Jennifer couldn't remember. She remembered that it seemed like hours before they were done with her., She remembered helping Rena to her feet, and helping her to get dressed.

She remembered the long drive to Rena's house and somehow getting the poor young girl inside.

Then Jennifer had returned home and into a hot tub. She'd scrubbed herself raw but she still didn't feel completely clean. What bothered her most was the feelings she'd had. She had acted like an aroused animal at times.

Even now she could taste cum on her tongue and she could feel those big cocks slamming into her.

"Oh, Christ," Jennifer said softly.

She slipped out of bed and wrapped a robe tightly around her.

She thought that a cup of hot coffee might make her feel better. She'd had three cups before the doorbell rang. She ignored the bell. She didn't want to talk to anybody, she didn't want to see anybody.

The bell kept ringing.

"Go away!" Jennifer yelled.

Whoever was at the door wasn't listening. The bell kept ringing until she couldn't ignore it any longer. She thought about putting on something else but the robe covered her important parts and she wasn't planning on talking long.

She carried her cup of coffee to the front door, and opened it. An elderly man stood there. She could see an old car parked at her curb.

"Yes," she said.

"Are you Mrs. Jennifer Wales?" he asked.

"You can read the mailbox," she said sharply. "What is it you want?"

He grinned at her and she didn't like it. She was in no mood to be grinned at by dirty old men. She started to slam the door shut but he put his foot against it.

"I think you'd better talk to me," he said.

"Come back later," she said.

"I think we'd better talk now," he said, "or maybe you'd like me to wait and talk to your husband. He might be interested in what movies you've been watching lately."

"Movies?" Jennifer questioned weakly. All of a sudden she was beginning to feel sicker. "What is this foolishness about movies? What do you want?"

"Invite me in for a cup of coffee," he said. "We have a lot to talk about."'

Jennifer stepped back out of the man's way. She got back far enough, but she felt him intentionally brushing against her. She could smell beer on his breath, and his knee pushed some of the material of her robe closer to her thighs.

"You've got nothing on under that," he said.

"That's none of your business," she said.

He didn't get mad. He only grinned and went boldly into the kitchen. He was already pouring himself a cup of coffee by the time she got there.

"What do you want?" she asked again.

"Why, I'm just making myself at home," he said. "Just what you're afraid of. I'm going to help myself to your husband's coffee and your husband's food and your husband's wife!"

This was what she'd been afraid of since the man had walked into the house. She'd almost wanted him to ask for money. His asking for money wouldn't have made her feel any worse.

"You're filth," she said.

"Let's cut out the bullshit, baby," he said. For the first time he stopped grinning. He reached into his pocket and took out an identification tag. It was a tag Jennifer had always kept in her purse.

"I found this on the rug where you left it yesterday," he said. "You see, I missed out on all the action but that's all right because I never liked group things anyway."

Jennifer's legs seemed to give way under her and she sank down into the chair across from him. Her robe fell apart at her thighs and she saw his eyes go there. She didn't pull her robe together. It didn't seem to matter.

"Now don't look so sad," he said. He leaned across and put his hand on her bare knee. His sweaty fingers tightly clutched her flesh. "I ain't so bad."

He gave her a lewd wink and his hand went farther up her thigh. His hand was not yet underneath her robe but she knew that in another moment it would be.

"Besides," he said. "They told me you liked it. You and your friend. They said you begged for more."

Jennifer tried to close her ears to him, but she knew that he was telling her the truth. She dimly remembered begging the men not to stop, not to ever stop. It was hard to believe that she had been the one begging them.

The man's hand slipped all the way to her pussy. He rubbed his fingers lightly through her curly pubic hair. She felt his thumb just barely caress her plump lips.

"You've got a nice one," he said. "I'm going to enjoy this."

Jennifer closed her eyes. She couldn't believe the things that had happened to her all because Dave Madden had kidnapped her. He had awakened her to feelings she had never known before.

She didn't want to be pawed by this old man, but everything had started to go to pieces.

"Let's go someplace comfortable," the old man said.

Like a zombie, Jennifer got up. He followed right on her footsteps as she walked up the stairs to her bedroom. He patted her gently on her ass.

The old man fondled her as if he owned her, and in a way he did. He knew he could make her do anything he wanted.

"All right, honey," he said, "let's see what you've got."

He walked over and sat down on the bed. The bed smelled of her perfume, and it was really turning him on to think he was soon going to be fucking her on that bed. The same bed her husband fucked her on. "Hurry," he said impatiently, "I want to see that body naked. I want to see that furry cunt the guys were telling me about."

Jennifer undid her robe and dropped it to the floor. He whistled as he ogled her firm body. She was built just as the fellows had told him she was. Big tits, flat stomach, hairy pussy, and round, soft ass. The kind of woman men with money got.

The kind of woman he had never had.

He leaned back on the bed and put his hands behind his head.

"Why don't you show me how much you like sucking cock?" he asked her.

The pretty blonde housewife walked slowly to him. She kneeled down between his legs and he had to lift his head to watch her. Her firm white fingers pulled his zipper down.

He had not expected it to be this easy. He had expected her to put up a fight.

He watched her slender fingers pulling his trousers open and then her hand going into the opening. He wore no shorts and he shivered as her warm fingers came into contact with his prick.

"Ahhh," he said softly.

She tugged his cock out the opening and he watched her start fingering him. Her fingers ran gently over the length of his cock and down to his balls. She lifted each of his balls as if they were precious to her.