CASSIE'S RAPE

The best way to read these stories is to have 
something available that will get you closer to nasty 
sex. Have some porno pictures nearby that help you 
with your version of the story; are there any panties 
in the waiting to be laundered? Bring a pair to your 
computer and let the smell of cunt elevate your 
arousal; or you can taste the beads of pre-cum from 
the end of your cock—try it, it's a turn on if you can 
get into it. I've been doing things like this for 
years around fantasies of my wife getting laid by 
other men. My first wife actually did it. My second 
wife was too uptight and wouldn't even entertain a 
fantasy. My third and current wife, much younger than 
me, is what this story is about—and it's not the usual 
stuff.

Cassie is 33, I'm 57. She really is very sweet and 
pretty—low on glamour—you know, sexiness, the full 
figure, big tits, etc. She's the opposite—the girl 
next door with small tits and a petite figure, except 
that she's a very pretty, soap and shampoo-smelling 
girl.

I tried to interest her in some freaky fantasies, but 
she withdrew. It wasn't until a month or so later that 
she told me she'd been sexually abused by an uncle 
when she was 11. On one occasion he brought over some 
friends and they gang banged her. As a teen she became 
really promiscuous, quite common I understand for 
girls who are sexually abused. The upshot of this was 
I never tried to get her into bed with someone else. 
It's always been quite vanilla, except for some 
outside stuff.

This story is short really. No point in wasting time. 
True it is and recent.

Cassie came home late about two weeks ago. She went 
out with her friend Bethany. Midnight came and she 
hadn't called. I lay on the couch and fell asleep. A 
noise woke me and I looked at the clock. It was 3:00 
a.m. I was a bit slow to realize that the hall light 
had been switched on and there was only silence. "Is 
that you Cassie," I called, but no answer. Now I was 
alert and silently moved across the living room that 
led to the hallway. Cautiously I peeked around the 
corner and there was Cassie, knuckles to her mouth, 
head down, and trembling in silent tears.

Her blonde hair was out of its ponytail, and hung 
veiling her face from the side. I was very concerned 
about her. I love her very much and would do anything 
to protect her.

"What happened, Cassie?" I stood in front of her and 
gently held her heaving shoulders.

She didn't say anything until I took her in my arms 
and held her. She was still biting her knuckles and 
sniffling.

"You'll hate me," she wailed.

"No I won't. Tell me."

Piece by piece she told me that she and Bethany had 
hooked up with 6 guys at the club. They were all 
invited to go to the apartment of one of them—a guy 
called Rob. Cassie and Bethany sat on a love seat and 
the guys sat around. The conversation turned to sex 
talk. One of the guys asked Bethany if she'd ever 
kissed a girl. She shamelessly admitted she had. They 
asked Cassie who said she hadn't. Apparently Beth 
turned to her with mischief in her eyes and asked 
Cassie if she wanted to try it; and then that was it.

Now you've got to understand that Cassie has always 
has a penchant for voyeuristic stuff—the risk of being 
seen. We've fucked in parks and parkades, and a few 
places in between. This is when Cassie has really big 
orgasms. Well apparently and bit of this kicked in 
when she and Bethany locked lips and the guys started 
whooping. 

Next thing they're both groping each other over their 
clothes. Cassie said she got very horny and then 
Bethany whispered in her ear that they should have a 
competition. Each of them would fuck three guys and 
see which one of them could make all three of them cum 
the fastest. Bethany's hands were doing just what was 
needed to caress a yes out of Cassie.

Bethany turned to the guys, a couple of whom were 
already hard and touching themselves over their pants. 
When she told them what the game would be, the guys 
were whooping even more and were ready to go. The 
winning three would get to have another night with 
whichever girl won. The guys didn't like the idea at 
first, saying that all they'd get was a quickie. Beth 
resolved the problem by saying, without Cassie's 
agreement, that for that night all the guys could slow 
fuck them afterwards as much as they wanted.

The guys split into teams. Bethany's team took her 
over to a matching love seat, pulled her panties off, 
lifted her dress and positioned her so that they could 
easily fuck her from a kneeling position. The guys 
with Cassie did the same. Cassie said there was a part 
of her panicking by then and wanted it to stop. 
Another part of her, she admitted, was back in those 
promiscuous teen years and aching for sex: "Feeling 
like a slut," she called it.

The guys were jerking themselves off to almost orgasm 
before the start. Someone called it and the first guys 
plunged into the girls, their legs spread wide and 
pelvis's pumping madly to bring the guys off quick. 
The last of Bethany's team pulled out, leaving his 
load inside her as Cassie's last guy started to spill 
his sperm into her belly.

Then it was into the slow fucking for a couple of 
hours. Cassie said she didn't cum during the 
competition, but had more orgasms than she could 
recall after that. For her, being filled like a slut 
was an overwhelming aphrodisiac that made her almost 
catatonic with pleasure.

So the confession was over and I was still holding her 
tenderly. What Cassie didn't know was how much a part 
of my fantasy life this was. For three years I'd 
spared her the trauma of even mentioning it. She was 
still sniffling and sobbing quietly, apologizing for 
what she'd done. I was over the moon and rock hard, 
but slightly pulled away from her so she couldn't 
tell.

"No need to apologize, Cassie. It's okay!"

"What do you mean, it's okay?"
I was already up her skirt in my imagination and 
exploring her messy crotch with my hand, my fingers.

"Look, I'll show you."

I kissed her full on her soft lips and slipped her my 
passionate tongue. She responded immediately and 
gasped for air. My hand went down and slid up her 
thighs. She clamped her legs together, twisted away 
and cried, "No!" And then in an embarrassed and 
faltering whisper, "I didn't wash."

"That's just the way I want it," I hissed menacingly 
in her ear. I grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked 
her head back, crushing her lips with mine. "You felt 
like a slut. Now I'll tell you, you are a fucking 
slut!" With my knees and hand I forced her legs apart 
and found the sticky, heavy mess in her crotch. She 
was crying hard now.

"Bitch! Shut the fuck up! Spread your legs you fucking 
whore!" I ordered. It was as if another part of me had 
taken over. I was down  on my knees hiking up her 
skirt and plunging my face, my mouth,  my lips, my 
tongue, into the sperm of six guys oozing out of her. 
I'd become like an animal and I was making noises like 
an animal. 

Cassie was protesting and pushing my head with her 
hand at first and then at some point all that changes 
and she was pulling on my head and grinding her pussy 
into my mouth. I had the crotch of her panties pulled 
to one side and my tongue was plumbing the warm, wet, 
musky depths of her fucked hole. Suddenly she came—
big! Real big! She was twisting like a tormented demon 
against the wall, her pelvis thrusting against my 
face. 

I came up and looked her full in the eyes, grinding my 
teeth. "Slut!" I snapped, and grabbed another handful 
of hair. I dragged her to our bed, threw her on it and 
forced myself between her thighs. I'd dropped my pants 
and released a fucking huge hard on. I was as stiff as 
a pole. Cassie was still fighting me, but I pulled her 
panties to one side and impaled her twisting body with 
one enormous thrust.

Something had changed in me. It was as if I were 
watching myself. Cassie was crying and her tears 
aroused me even more. My arms were under her 
shoulders; I had two handfuls of her hair, pulling her 
head back and using it as leverage to pound deeper, 
harder. I was spewing all manner of profanities and 
forcing her to call herself "bitch," "slut," "whore". 
And then I was there: a deep-groaning, howling, orgasm 
that I forced into her body as deep as I could go. 
There's no other way of describing it. 

I raped her and it satisfied me. It satisfied me that 
she had been violated by six men before me. She cried 
herself to sleep in my arms. I slept well and awoke to 
the intercom. When I got to it, it was still buzzing. 
It was Rob from the night before. He was dropping off 
an earring Cassie had lost in his apartment. I let him 
in and called him up.

When I got to the bedroom, Cassie was waking and 
disoriented. I kissed her roughly and told her that 
Rob was on his way up and that we were both going to 
fuck her. I let Rob in and led him to the bedroom 
where Cassie was curled and frightened against the 
headboard.

"I know what happened last night," I told Rob. "She 
loves cock, so she'd going to get it." I taunted her 
with touch and then dragged her by the ankles down the 
bed. She was in tears again as I told Rob to get his 
pants off and fuck her. Rob only hesitated a moment 
before dropping his pants and climbing on the bed 
between her thighs. He was clearly aroused to the max 
at the idea of raping Cassie. I'm quite big, but he 
was bigger than me—fatter. His cock spread her pussy 
and I stayed mesmerized by the sick sight of him 
thrusting into her like a monster, her cries only 
fuelling his passion further.

"Fuck my slut! Fuck my whore wife!" I urged him. And 
then soon it was over as he emptied into her with 
thrusting groans that sounded like pain. Rob rolled 
off and I went next with a force I never knew was in 
me. I was surprised as I was rising to orgasm to see 
that Cassie was riding a huge orgasmic wave. The 
struggle and the crying stopped.

"Oh My God! Yesssssssss! Fuck me!" And then she joined 
me with five or six astounding thrusts of her pelvis. 
Rob was hard again watching it all and he did her 
again. This time she came with him. Rob left and I 
raped her once more. She orgasmed, too.

Since then, I've brought around four of the original 
six guys. The others were freaked out by it. I've also 
had three of my friends over to rape her. But for a 
class act, I got in touch with her rapist uncle who 
was more than eager to drive for two hours to pound 
his cock once more into my pretty Cassie.

I have two guys—one her older brother—coming over 
tonight. The sheets are a smelly mess and Cassie's 
pussy is always oozing cum. I'm never hungry.