Monday, December 10, 2012

Introducing Rita - Part Four

By Rita Goleta

...continued from Part Three!

My daughter Vanessa had an overnight with two other girls. Skip and I were right in the middle of lovemaking with a couple of domestic warriors butchering each other on the widescreen, when I heard a definite noise in the closet. Immediately I jumped loose of a puzzled Skip and whispered, “Darling, we’re not alone, someone’s in the room, maybe an animal?"

“Oh fuck-a-duck,” he said in his older-guy way. But he got up and opened the closet door, which was already ajar, and there was this punky guy crouched down and peeking at us through the crack. He took one look at the goliath in front of him and stammered, “Wait, w-w-wait, s-s-sorry! I’ll go, don’t do anything, don’t c-c-call the cops, okay, please, lemme go, I’ll get out, you won’t see me again."

“GET HIM, SKIP!” I yelled, “you’re not going anywhere, you creepy pervert! Skip, get him out here and teach him a lesson he won’t forget!”

(I didn’t really want revenge; I already anticipated the fun we’d have making blood pudding out of this miserable idiot, flaunting my nicely rounded boobs in his face, and forcing him to watch us fuck like crazy in sexual frenzy at his expense.)

Skip pushed the smaller man up against the wall and started pummeling him in the stomach and chest…..but wait a minute! Considering those 19-inch biceps, I thought he wasn’t going at it with much effort, like he was doing movie fakes. “Goddammit, Skip, lay into him, harder, in the face, in the face!” I was like a wild woman of the jungle.

Skip pushed his big open hand into the intruder’s face to pin him against the wall, and looked around at me. “Look, honey, he’s learned his lesson, go call the cops.” Muffled pleads were coming from the other man’s little face completely buried in the big hand.

Oh my god, I got it in one big flash! The whole picture! My Skip is a kindhearted powder puff, defender of the downtrodden, Clark Kent out-of-uniform, to-the-rescue savior of the helpless. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he was turned on all right by our forays into brutality, but not by torture or bloody violence or anything like it, he was turned on big-time by my being turned on, my superheated hyper state, the feminine jizzing at masculine mayhem, the…, the…, I wanted to call him something, words didn’t come, it hit me like betrayal, then I remembered words shouted in a political rant somewhere, duplicitous sonofabitch! That was him, my handsome, chiseled, duplicitous sonofabitch.

But dammit-to-hell, I was not going to lose the utterly fantastic opportunity in front of me. I ran to the laundry room and found a coil of heavy yellow braided rope, ran back to the bedroom, and told Skip to tie the guy to a chair. “We’ve been looking at pictures,” I said, “let’s have some real fun.”

Now the obedient Mr. Please Everybody, Skip half-heartedly thumped the smaller man in the chair while I tied and snipped the rope to make sure he couldn’t get loose. Skip double-checked the knots. “Come on, lover boy,” I insisted, “work him over.”

Skip hesitated. “I dunno, sweetheart, well okay.” He applied a couple of open-hand puffs to the guy’s cheeks. “Dammit to hell,” I cried, and ran over to Skip’s pants on the end of the bed and pulled out his Montana cowpuncher’s belt. I pushed it into Skip’s hands and told him to get cracking. He cocked his long sinewy arm back like a Yankee pitcher. Now we’re getting somewhere, I thought. But for all the swing, and even though the culprit yelled out in pain from the leather slamming into his chest, it looked way too limpid for my taste.

After a few more half-hearted lashings I yelled at Skip, “Give the bastard a real hard one, this time in the face!” Just the thought of the heavy belt whacking that pukey face crying out, “No, no, no!” renewed the tingling warmth in my vaginal hotspot. Time for blood! But Skip just stood and looked like he didn’t what to do next.

“Jeezus peezus!” I cried out in my frustration, give me the fucking belt.” I grabbed it and laid it into jerko’s face, eliciting a real proper screamed “Owwww!” Finally we got some real tears and blubbering into the bargain. But then I stepped back and said, “Wait, I got another idea. Skip, get behind the shitbag and tip the chair way back.” Skip looked perplexed but right away did what I asked. I came up to the loser, straddled him, and pushed my puss into his face. “Lucky dog, you get licked and now you lick.” I looked down and the creep was smiling! “You think this is funny?” I stepped back and slapped his ugly face six times, and he still kept smiling. “You friggin’ bastard,” I said, “Skip, pull his hair while I give him more pussy food.” Skip pulled real hard, and I squished my wet triangle down on the guy’s mouth. And there was the moronic prick still grinning at me. He was enjoying the slapping and up-close pussy.

“It’s enough,” I said, “I’ve had it with this trash bag. Get him out of here, okay, Skip?”

Skip said, “Okay, darling, I’ll call the cops now.”

“Call the cops?” I said, “are you out of your blitherin’ fucking mind? After what we’ve been doing he’s got as much a case against us as we have against him, if not more!”

I told Skip to take him someplace far, far out of town and dump him, even if he had to drive until morning. My lover didn’t argue, said he’d do that, said I was right about getting sued and all that. I added that he should blindfold him and make damned sure he doesn’t know where he is or how to get back here, even if he’s left to die in some field. “No, you big dumb galoot, I know you don’t want nobody to die, but it won’t be your fault.”

Our captive sure as hell wasn’t sitting by quietly during this conversation. He was harping away about how he’d never come back, he was grateful we weren’t calling the cops, just please, please, don’t hurt me any more. You got your revenge, bad, bad me, I walk out that door and gone forever, etc. etc. All this when Skip and I were trying to dope out what to do with him, me unfulfilled and stuck with this unwanted piece of baggage.

Skip dragged the human dodo-bird out of the house and left me to masturbate like crazy for a long time with vague images of what I really wished my man had done in front of me. be concluded!

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