Chapter 3

It was easy to break into the house to which Rebecca had directed me. A quick search of the kitchen seemed to bear out what she had told me about the owners being away on holiday. There was no perishable food in the fridge and the room was spotlessly clean. A more detailed search revealed a hidden drawer in which I found an automatic pistol, some pills labeled 'Joy Balls' and a bottle of single-malt whisky.

At that time I knew little about guns and less about social drugs. It was foolish of me to swallow a 'Joy Ball' and to wash it down with scotch before starting my search for the wall safe where Rebecca had said I would find some undeclared income belonging to the wealthy residents. The initial symptoms were giddiness and blurred vision plus a feeling of euphoria and an erection. I found a CD player and treated myself to some music and almost failed to hear the front door open to admit the lady of the house carrying a bag of groceries.

She was in her early thirties, attractive and smartly dressed. When she saw me she turned to run. I caught her before she reached the door.

'Oh! God!' she said, 'Don't shoot me!'

I had forgotten I was holding the gun, being more interested in exploring the tender flesh of her left tit. My total lack of concern at being caught burglarizing and my overwhelming desire to nail the unfortunate woman was, I learned later, a result of whisky and 'Joy Balls'.

'I won't shoot you, ' I snarled, 'If you do exactly as I tell you!' She nodded agreement.

'So -- Strip for me!' I whispered.

Reluctantly the red headed householder did as she was told. She took off her jacket and hung it neatly over a kitchen chair. On my insistence she tried to move in time to the music as she slipped her smart silk dress off one shoulder then another. She was clumsy. She nearly tripped over her discarded dress as she removed her bra and tried to cover her full, pink-tipped, breasts behind fluttering hands.

'Please!' she said in a quavering voice, 'Don't do this! There's some money and jewelry in the house. I'll give it all to you if you stop now and go. I won't call the police or anything... '

I laughed. 'I'm going to take it anyway but first, Lady, I'm going to give you such a hard fucking time you'll wonder if it was a nightmare or one long wet dream. Now show me those tits -- and I'll show you what treat's in store for you!' And so saying I unzipped my jeans to expose the 'Joy Balls' enhanced erection which was still growing.

Whether it was the sight of my swelling prick, my alcohol inspired gutter talk or the gun, 'Joy' (not her real name) started to cry. Nevertheless she did as ordered and soon stood before me offering first one ripe bosom then the other. She teased each protuberant nipple until the erectile flesh responded and they stood out like two little sticks of pink candy.

I made her lick them. Seeing her moist red tongue caress each teat caused me to decide that, despite my long established fear of being bitten, Joy was going to have the privilege of initiating me into the art of fellatio.

It took all my self control not to grab her then and start the proceedings but there were things I needed to know and while she bumped and ground in a pleasingly amateurish way I questioned her.

Joy had returned from holiday a day early for a hair appointment. Hubby wouldn't appear until tomorrow. She was 32. There were no children.

'O.K.!' I said, 'Enough playing with your tits! Get your knickers off and show me your snatch!'

Joy tried to delay matters by continuing to talk. Breathlessly she warned me that her husband, Robert, had installed sophisticated security devices around the house and that the police could, even now, be on their way to investigate my break in.

I shut her up with a single light tap to her left tit with the barrel of the automatic and after that she was more obedient.

Joy slowly slid the silken undies over her rump and down her stocking-clad legs in time to the music. Her bush was trimmed to a neat auburn stubble which, framed by a thin white garter belt, was most inviting.

On my instructions she used the expensive panties to stroke between her thighs, drawing the stretched fabric backwards and forwards between her labia major to caress the inner lips of her cunt.

After a while, she began to pant - becoming sexually aroused despite the circumstances she found herself in. Then, realizing what she was doing, Joy stopped masturbating and threw her panties down.

'I won't do it! I won't! she cried, and stamped her foot like a small girl in a tantrum.

I crossed the gap which separated us in two strides and drove my free hand between her legs. My thumb went into her moistening crack while my horny forefinger penetrated her arse. Joy squealed with surprise and pain as I squeezed.

'Time to get serious, ' I whispered in her ear. 'Feel my prick!'

Held fast by my left hand she could do nothing but obey or suffer. Her soft hand closed gently around my, by now, enormous swollen cock. I might have mentioned that both my half-brother (and absentee guardian) and I are very well endowed but on this occasion the 'Joy Balls' had pumped me up to painful proportions.

'How do I compare with Bob?' I asked my trembling victim. There was no need for an answer. The fear in her eyes and the fresh outburst of sobbing said it all.

Joy's hand felt cool against my blood engorged member which, affected by the 'Joy Balls' and the scotch, was beginning to cause me acute discomfort. My head was starting to spin and I was finding it hard to concentrate. My testicles, too seemed to be swelling.

'Feel my balls!' I grunted. Joy used her free hand to obey. She carefully lifted each one as if she was buying tomatoes from a fruit stall. 'Well?' I hissed.

'They-- they're huge, ' she sobbed. And they were, having gone into mass production of seminal fluid because of the drugs!

I took my hand from the frightened housewife's twat, and seized the back of her neck and pushed her down. She didn't resist, nor did she release her gentle hold on my penis, the tip of which was level with her tear-filled eyes.

'So make them smaller!' I said. 'Suck me dry! But if I get even the hint of teeth, I'll blow your fucking head clean off! Do you understand!

Joy nodded and with a sob gave my aching tool a tentative lick before taking the glans into her mouth, cushioning the underside with her sweet tongue... This was the first time I had been fellated. I had not dared to trust Phoebe, my sex-slave and one-time English mistress, with my prick in her mouth but under the influence of 'Joy Balls' and booze, all caution was forgotten.

The sight alone of Joy's pretty red lips encircling my purple veined and monstrously swollen dick brought me close to orgasm and in a few short minutes I came. Before I did, I reached down and pressed her head onto my shaft. Joy had no choice but to swallow what, for me, was an exorbitant quantity of gism.

When she had finished retching she discovered, to her horror, that although her efforts had brought me some relief, my erection had not retreated an inch. I stood her up and before she could catch her breath I bent her backwards over the kitchen bench and rammed it into her cunt.

Joy lay on her back, howling, while I plundered her pussy. Her vagina was as tight as Phoebe's had been when I first fucked her in the box room at school. I noticed the way her tits surged back and forward in time to my thrusts and again found that I was filling my victim with buckets of warm cum without becoming softer or shorter. I was beginning to panic. You read about people who have permanent erections and have a bit of a laugh. It's not so funny when it's your prick that won't lie down.

I withdrew and had another gulp of whisky. Joy tried to appeal to my better nature - a bad mistake.