Caught in the Crossfire Ch. 04

Jack smiled. Her eyes told him everything. She belonged to him.

As Jack's cock grew thicker and harder, she continued to kiss and lick his stiffening member, while coyly saying, "First, I'm going to get this big boy so hard I could use it to pound nails into concrete...oh yes, just like this. Next, I'm going to..." Brittany flipped onto her back and slid under and between his knees before finishing, "I going to suck on these heavy balls until they are bursting with cum."

Jack lifted his torso to give her room, before dropping his balls into her waiting mouth. Lost in the fog of arousal, again, she tongued his heavy balls with abandon, pushing her whole face up and into his groin so that her nose pressed wickedly into his perineum. At the same time, she brought her hands into play, using both to playfully stroke and massage his cock.

Filled with power and pride at his new slut creation, Jack added more fuel to her fire by turning, twisting, and tapping hard on the stop of the dildo as it remained lodged fully in Brittany's anus.

Uttering a string of guttural grunts and moans around his balls, Brittany's body shifted, twitched and shivered about in total ecstasy. Laying her head down, she yelled, "Give me your cock!"

Jack rolled away from her, leaving her with that empty feeling again.

She nearly started crying in frustration. Rolling back onto her side with her green eyes sparkling, she was about lay a verbal barrage on Jack to finish what he started, when she caught that warm smile of his, quelling her anger.

"So you want my cock," he said, as he handed her a condom, "First, put this on me. Then grease up my cock real good."

This was the first time condoms were even mentioned in their relationship, and it confused her for a moment. "What's with the rubber?"

"I noticed the dildo was getting dirty. As much as I love fucking all you horny 'hausfraus' in the ass, I don't like what sometimes greets me when I go up your chute."

"That's disgusting," Brittany said, using a false tone of prudishness.

"No, that's biology." He commented, laughingly, then added, "You're a funny little hypocrite. You speak of disgust with such stuck-up reserve, all while panting like a bitch in heat. The whole time I'm fucking you with the fake dick, you're playing with my thick tool thinking there could be nothing better than having my cock pumping deep in your ass."

Jack was right. If he had said these things to her before the dildo, she would have found this whole conversation crude and offensive, but now...

She could barely unwrap the foil and unroll the condom onto his cock, her hands trembled so, from nerves and arousal. After laying a thick coat of lube all around his sheathed cock, he told her to assume her favorite position.

When Jack removed the dildo, Brittany felt momentarily empty, but the emptiness was quickly filled to overflowing as she felt Jack slowly pushing his long, thick cock into her.

Even with the thick coat of lube, Jack met with resistance and Brittany felt pain.

She uttered a soft, "Owie," stopping his forward progress.

Jack ran a soothing hand along the small of her back, while saying, "Why don't you back into me, emerald-eyes. It'll be easier."

It was better for her when she had control. Mostly, she didn't have to fear Jack getting impatient and ramming his tool home. Not that he would, but she just breathed easier not having to worry.

Brittany eased backwards, pushing ever so gently, and even though the progress was slow a first, she could always feel him inching further inside. When he was about three-quarters in, the tightness she felt before, caused by her irrational fear and Jack's size, evaporated. In that second, everything relaxed within her, and Jack's cock slid smoothly in the rest of the way.

"Oh dear God," she breathed out, as an overwhelming and intense sensation of bliss immediately flooded over her the moment her ass made contact with Jack's thighs.

Jack grabbed her hips, and held her tight against him. Shifting his cock, side to side, subtly within her, he said with a chuckle, "I told you. I love it when all you horny 'hausfraus' finally realize what you've been missing all these years. All of you bitches love it in the ass. You all try to deny it and try to hide your desire for it, but first time, every time, when my cock's finally, fully in your cute little behinds, your pussies start gushing like fire hydrants. Feels good, doesn't it, emerald-eyes?"

She hated that he was always right, and just nodded her head in response.

"What? I didn't hear that. You want me to pull my cock out?"

His arrogance was killing her. She shook her head.

"Oh, so now you don't want me to fuck your tight, fat ass."

"No! I mean yes. I mean, fuck my ass. Please!"

"Say it. Beg. Say it like I just said it."

She had to think what he had said, but the sexual fog that was seeping into her mind was making thought difficult. Finally, she remembered, and added a little extra, "Fuck me in my tight, fat ass, you fucking prick!"

"God, how I love it when you slutty bitches talk rough and dirty."

Jack pumped his cock using long, slow strokes, and rarely varying his tempo. He liked to take his time when fucking the wives in the ass, allowing them to work themselves up into a fevered pitch.

The mind is the greatest erogenous zone, and Jack's slow, unvarying ass fucking always got them working their minds into overdrive. Added to this, the slow ramping of their arousal was always sexual agony. By the time they got close to climax, they usually needed to release the pent-up agony by screaming and throwing themselves back onto his cock like half-starved, rabid dogs pouncing on a piece of flesh. All of which helped them to reach the pinnacle they sought in their fevered minds, and push them over the edge into ecstasy.

To change things up, occasionally Jack would grip their shoulders hard, pulling them firmly toward him as he thrusts in, bumping their over-stuffed bottoms with his thighs. The added 'shock' from the bump worked well in ratcheting their arousal up quicker and higher than just from the normal pelvic grind, alone. Of course, he always loved taking them by the hair and pulling their pretty heads back while thrusting into them. It made them feel even more cheap and dirty than they already were. He loved hearing them swear and curse at him for his rough, humiliating treatment, all while begging him to fuck their tight asses even harder.

As with the others, Brittany was ramping up nicely—a slow and methodical crawl toward climax. Her hands were everywhere and in chaos: massaging her breasts first, squeezing, kneading, and pinching them, then hitting every other erogenous zone she had, thighs, sides, stomach, before going back at her breasts again. Roving hands, subconsciously done to help push her faster along and toward climax. She had yet to touch her clit, which would have neatly done that thing she sought, but Jack kept denying her that easy pleasure. As such, she was stuck in agony for what would be a very long time.

She began throwing herself back into him, grunting hard as she did so. The sudden vibrations she felt from her hard bumps cascaded wonderfully through her groin, pushing her that much closer to release.

Right on cue, Jack grabbed a tuft of her hair and yanked her head back hard. Brittany yelped in pain.

"Dirty baby likes it in the ass, doesn't she?"

Brittany panted, "Yes!"

Jack yanked her hair back harder, and said, "Dirty baby wants to come, doesn't she?"

"Owie...yes!"

"But it's such a slow glide to heaven, isn't it?"

"Yes! Fuck me harder, you prick! Please!"

"Let's really get down and dirty, emerald-eyes. What do you say?"

Jack pulled out and put on a fresh rubber.

Aching from being ramped up and full, but now empty, Brittany asked in frustration, "Goddam it, why did you stop, you prick? What are you doing?"

"Shut up. I want to try something."

Throwing a pillow on the floor, he slid her off the bed, laying her head and shoulders on the pillow, and with her back pressed against the side of the bed for support.

Jack squirted more lube onto his erection, and still more between her buttocks. Then he stepped over and between her legs, putting one foot up on the bed.

His cock stood out straight and hard. Waving it at her, he asked, "Is this what you want?"

"Goddamn it, yes!"

"Show me where you want it."

Brittany spread her ass cheeks wide with her hands, revealing her still gapping asshole, and said with real venom in her voice, "Put it in right there. Fuck my tight, fat ass, you fucking prick!"

Holding his cock steady and pointing directly at his target, he lowered himself down. His thick member slid into her ass with ease.

She gasped at the sudden sensation of being filled again. Her arousal quickly climbed to the point it was before as Jack renewed this slow, patient pumping.

"Oh Jesus," was all she could say, repeatedly, as Jack continued his deep, slow fucking.

"Yeah, feels good, doesn't emerald-eyes."

She just stared up at him wide-eyed, murmuring, "Oh Jesus," as the fullness of pleasure swept over her.

"There's another reason I like to wear a rubber when I fuck you horny 'hausfraus' in the ass. The rubber deadens the feeling for me. I can control myself easier. Truth be told, I can keep fucking you like this all the live long day." Jack ended his little speech by pounding his massive tool deep into her. When she belted out a long cry of delight, Jack repeated the thrust, pounding down hard into her, again, and again, and again, each time causing Brittany to shriek with pleasure.

Yet, Brittany was close to tears. Even with all of Jack's pounding, the ramp up to climax was still going too slow. The sexual agony deepened to the point where she couldn't take it anymore. Her hands were back to floating all across her body, touching each erogenous zone in turn. They finally ended up secured to her breasts as she crushed them together and against her, trying to do anything to speed up her journey.

Jack saw the distress in her face, the wonderfully distressed look of a woman with pinched features and furrowed brow. A woman who hated and loved what was being done to her—needing to, but not really wanting to, come.

Jack took pity on her, "Touch yourself, emerald-eyes. Come for me."

Brittany wasted no time vigorously shifting and slapping a hand across her clit, as she let out a long, wailing scream.

She continued to scream as she continued to slap at her pussy. A small trickle of her ejaculate flowed out. The droplets landed softly on her lips and cheeks. Brittany licked them off as she continued to yell between deep, gasping pants.

Quickly, while Brittany was in the throes of another climax, Jack pulled out of her ass, removed the rubber, then slid his cock hard into her gaping pussy. Brittany screamed again as a gush of fluid erupted around Jack's thrusting cock like a geyser, bathing her face and upper torso.

Jack rammed his cock in all the way, grinding their groins together, and causing his balls to rub and slap against her clit. "Come on, baby, give me another one."

She screamed again. Another geyser of fluid rushed from her as Jack pulled back out of her cunt.

Too ramped up in his own sexual excitement, Jack didn't bother with another rubber, pushing his cock back into her ass while renewing his pounding.

He continually slammed into her like a pile driver, while commanding, "Come on emerald-eyes, give me one more. Let me see you come once more, just like the horny bitch you are."

Back to working a frantic slapping hand to her pussy, she continually screamed, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" each time Jack slammed all the way in; and for each, 'Fuck me,' another climax washed over her, causing another trickle of fluid to fall onto her face and chest.

On his last descent, he fully stopped his thrusting, and held himself deep within her asshole and released. He just stayed like that for the longest time, holding one of her legs to him for support, as he emptied everything into her.

Brittany couldn't actually feel his forceful ejaculation, but later, she would swear she could feel his cock pulsating within her at regular intervals.

When Jack finally pulled out, Brittany slid over onto her side with a heavy sigh.

Nudging her with his foot, he said, "Better go clean up, and bring me a washcloth and towel while you're at it."

A few minutes later, Brittany found Jack lying on the bed, and cleaned his cock with a warm, soapy washcloth. After drying him, she asked, breathlessly, "Is that it for today?"

He smiled when he heard that tenor in her voice, and said, "I'll leave that up to you. We can call it a day, or, if you like, we can do something more."

She thought for only a moment before getting a fresh condom.

********

Nearing the end of their time together, both of them were spent.

Jack was on his back, breathing deeply. Brittany stared at him intently as she lay on her stomach next to him.

Jack still repulsed her for the things he was making her do, but she was also captivated by him. He was a powerful man, and not just powerful physically. There has a deep, internal strength about him as well, one more formidable than his physical strength. It was actually what she feared most about him, that internal force he so easily wielded, getting most of those in his sphere of influence to do what he asked.

Particularly stupid, cheating twats like me, she mused, mournfully.

Along with his obvious strength, however, there was gentleness to him. She saw it in his eyes, and in that friendly smile he sometimes imparted, and she certainly felt it in the way he made love to her.

Oh yes, especially then.

Just thinking about it now was making her flush with excitement, and her vulva moisten.

Even when he was making her choke on his member, like the first time they had sex, or just now, when he was fucking her roughly in the ass, she still felt his tenderness. He never held her down or cut off her wind for too long to where she felt real fear or panic, nor did he pound into her with reckless abandon, risking severe pain in favor of a male ego. He was always gentle, and did those things just enough to where she felt a burgeoning excitement at being dominated by a real man, one she could learn to look up to, if not...dare she even admit this to herself...if not eventually feel affection for.

His little flights into cruelty seemed more like learning exercises to her, now. A type of tough love used on a wayward child. He could be a harsh teacher, to be sure, but a fair one. More importantly, even though he hated her husband with a passion, she knew his hate didn't translate to her. She understood she was just a pawn to be used in his revenge of her husband, but she also knew he would never break his bargain to her—releasing the video he had, no matter how much he hated Santos—as long as she met his demands.

"Why do you hate Santos so much?" she finally asked him, after much thought.

Jack had nearly fallen asleep when her question roused him to full awareness. He thought about what he would have to say to her, then replied, "You don't want to know."

"Yes I do. I'm here because of that hate you have for him. I want to know the reason I have to do this. I deserve to know why."

"Why do you deserve to know? You're living the highlife, Brit, with your big house in the country, with your minks and jewelry, your sixty thousand dollar Mercedes, and your time-share in the Caymans. You never questioned it. You never asked yourself how Santos could get so many luxurious things on a cop's salary."

"Is that why you hate him, because he's a dirty cop?"

"A lot of cops I worked with are dirty, to one degree or another. Santos is just dirtier than most."

"Then what does having all those pretty things say about anything, except that Santos is a better prov...?"

"It says something about your willful blindness," Jack said, loudly, cutting her off. "You're no better than a mob wife, enjoying the comforts of the money your man brings home, but never really wanting to know the gory details about how he gets the money. And I'm not sure who's worse in the end, the guy who will do anything for money, even kill for it, or the stupid slut who benefits from it, but doesn't want to get her own hands dirty."

Brittany was insulted by Jack's comparison, "I didn't know. Really! As a cop, my father was a good provider. Then I married Santos, and he was a good provider. It just seemed natural. From father to husband, a smooth transition, cops did well. I never questioned it."

"Well, now you know. Cops, even the ones tainted by a lot of 'clean' graft, can't afford a time-share in the Caymans. Maybe they put enough away so that their kids can go to a state school, or they can get a new car every five years or so...and not a Mercedes, either. Santos and your dad are dirty cops, the dirtiest. Both you and your mother live well, because your father and husband gorge themselves on drug money, and do favors for those who do murder."

"Please don't talk about them that way. Not my parents. Not my mom."

"See, you don't really want to know. Neither you nor your mother wants to get your hands dirty. So do yourself a favor and stay ignorant to the crap going on around you. You'll sleep better at night."

He was right. Brittany wanted to leave it alone, now. She really didn't want to know how bad the ones she loves really are, or whether she could even trust anything Jack told her about them. However, something within her compelled her to ask. A desire and need to know the truth.

"What did they do to you?" she prodded.

He wasn't going to tell her for a variety of reasons. The most important was for safety's sake. Right now, all she knew of him was a bogus name, Pete Hansen. Telling her any detail of his past history with Santos reveals too much of himself. She may not know it, but Santos certainly does, and would know exactly who he is if she ever told him any part of the Jack Dorn story.

Another reason not to say anything was to avoid inevitable futility. Being a cop, he knows that for most people, blood trumps values. It wouldn't matter how truthful or sincerely he told the story, or how much evidence he could show her, she would never believe it—not of them, not of her family.

He turned his head and stared at her. It was a stare he always used to shut a perp up who was being disrespectful, or to get a guilty perp to finally talk, admit their guilt and cleanse their soul. It's a stare he used on his colleagues, and used to get them to back off when they wanted him to see things their way. It's the stare of the immovable object, and all those who saw it knew Jack could never be swayed from that point on. It always worked. It worked so well the last time, the cop who backed off the pressure later dropped a dime on him. Jack had left him no other choice.

She stared back at him with a similar look. Her emerald eyes were full of reserved curiosity, to be sure, but Jack also saw a courage and strength in her. She didn't turn away from his gaze, as most have done. She needed Jack to take her down the dark pathway, wherever it might lead, and show her that, which is her life.

She asked him, again, "What did they do to you?"

Jack turned away from her gaze, deciding against his own better judgment to tell her everything.

Talking slowly, almost poetically, he began, "His name was Kellen Wilson. He was just your average, every day, nobody, a smalltime dealer and thief, and not a successful one, at that. He was too stupid to be good at it, and too lazy to do anything else but steal. He had one good thing in his life, though. Her name was Sharonda Ferro, who was known on the street as Ashante...just Ashante. It's funny how most whores always pick French-sounding street names when plying their trade. It must be in their union contract," Jack paused to chuckle at his small joke, before continuing, "Anyway, Miss Ferro, Ashante, was a full-time prostitute and part time girlfriend of Kellen. They shared an apartment near the warehouse district."