Mariana's Plight

The girl varied her ride on Mariana's face, sometime it was like she was galloping on a pony and sometimes she would grind unhurriedly. Every time Mariana's tongue slowed the girl would slap her bruised, raw breasts until she was back on pace. After about 15 minutes of this the girl stopped moving and gracefully arched her back. She ground her pelvis into Mariana's face and brutally mauled Mariana's breasts. She was cursing softly in Spanish but Mariana was squealing as the flesh from her breasts was squeezed out between the girl's fingers. The girl lurched again and hammered herself down onto Mariana's face before she finally slumped forward, spent. As she released Mariana's breasts thin red slashes revealed where her fingernails had broken skin.

She climbed off Mariana and leaned over her, kissing her fully on the lips. One of the men making his way back to the bedroom reached for the girls extended ass and she slapped him away easily before carrying on to the bathroom.

The man still inside Mariana flopped down onto her and wiped her face with his coarse beard as he plundered on. Mariana's head lolled to face me; she looked beaten and broken. Her lipstick was smeared over her chin and cheeks; her mascara was now nothing more than a single dark smudge. She wasn't moaning any more as each man took her. Where is your pride now, I wondered. Gradually the parade of men slowed and finally stopped. A couple of men went by the door, looked in as though debating whether or not to take her, but changed their minds and retreated back to their seats. The girl emerged from the bathroom to take a seat beside Bernie. Mariana had closed her eyes and slept for probably ten minutes, laying spread out like a rag doll. Her finely tanned skin was a mass of deep red bruises, scratches and bite marks had broken skin on every tender part of her body. Gord looked at me with a smile.

"Do her for me too will you?" I asked. He nodded

Gord got up and walked over to the bedroom door. He looked back at me and grinned. Mariana didn't even raise her head when he came in. He dropped his pants and moved on top of her. Her hands went to his shoulders and kneaded the muscles as he arched over her. She looked up to see her latest lover and her eyes narrowed. The sound of the bed springs sounded once more through the house as Gord pounded away. The two minute gun went off and Gord hurried to get back to the game.

After he climbed off, her eyelids fluttered and she forced herself to move. She seemed to realize her best chance to get away would be in the last two minutes when everyone would be focused on the game. She awkwardly pulled herself to a sitting position on the bed. Gone was the grace and dignity of the woman who had entered the house less than two hours before. Gone too was her strength as the muscles in her thighs quivered when she tried to stand. She took the top sheet soaked with sweat and offerings off the bed and tried to find dry spots to wipe herself off as best she could. She wrapped the sheet around herself and hobbled to the card table.

Bernie took her clothes and dropped them in the middle of the floor then reached over and stripped the sheet from her. Mariana stooped down, grabbed the clothes and began to pull on the pants but Bernie shook his head and pointed outside towards the street. Mariana never reacted; she took the pile of clothes and stood stiffly. Gathering all of her remaining dignity she walked, head up, straight legged and purposely towards the front door. She glanced my way and I saw her makeup smeared face before she turned away. The dark lettering on her ass was soiled and smudged but still legible. Her long hair clung to her body in wet, sticky tendrils.

Once she was on the front lawn she skulked down behind a bike to pull on her pants, folding the panties over the crotch to provide some cushion between her and the coarse fabric. She pulled the silk shirt back on over her battered breasts but as soft as the fabric was, each movement seemed to bring her pain. She tried to slip on the shoes but gave up.

The final whistle for the game sounded and many of the men came over to the window to watch Mariana's departure. They laughed as she shuffled bowlegged towards her car. Looking angrily back at the house she grabbed hold of the roof to ease herself into the driver's seat. The car pulled away.

I turned to Gord

"Now how is she going to explain this to her husband?" I asked smugly.

He shrugged his shoulders and then stated flatly, "and she'll be back."

Today, I couldn't tell you who won those football games or even who was playing but I will remember every mark they left on Mariana's body and the sound of that bed until the day I die.