Tanya Takes It Up The Ass

I didn't mind Walter Nevins at first. The first day he came into my office and threw a shit load of money at me to follow his sexy little wife around, well no, I didn't mind him at all. But now he was really starting to burn my ass. I mean, if you're going to have your wife followed, don't you already have a pretty good idea that she's fucking around behind your back? Are you going to be that surprised when I show you the photographs that actually prove it?

Well, then again, I guess I couldn't blame Nevins, the poor old bastard. His hot little wife was into some kinky shit. I guess it was a side of her he'd never seen -- nor experienced -- for himself before.

"Tanya, my wife," Nevins whines from across the desk in my office, "has become more aloof toward me than ever."

I nod my head, reaching for a stack of photographs in my right-hand drawer.

"Last night," he continues, "I came home from a long day at work and she's sitting in the kitchen, vaguely flipping through a magazine. But she isn't really READING anything! She's just absently looking at the pictures. She doesn't even say 'Hello' to me!"

"Mr. Nevins," I say, "I have something you should see."

But it's as if he doesn't even hear me.

"I mean day after day," he rambles, "I work myself to the point of exhaustion while she spends her days flipping through elite women's magazines. Or going to the gym to workout just enough to keep her attractive figure. Then it's off to the martini bar for lunch and cocktails with her girlfriends. Then perhaps to the salon for a manicure/pedicure. Or the spa for a massage. And me?! I'm working myself to the bone all day to provide her with our beautiful home, her designer clothing, her Mercedes!"

"Please, Mr. Nevins," I say, holding up my hand in hopes to stop his babbling, "you really need to see these photographs I've taken."

"I KNEW I shouldn't have married a woman so much younger than me!" he continues with his rant, ignoring me. "I KNEW she'd turn out to be one of these 'high-maintenance' women! But then again, how can you blame me? I mean, you've seen her...she's utterly gorgeous. Oh and real wildcat in bed too, just between the two of us. But then again, it's been AGES since she's let me touch her."

"I think I have the explanation for that right here," I say.

I hand him the heavy stack of glossy black-and-white pictures I've recently taken of Mrs. Nevins covertly. She isn't wearing clothes in about 95% of them. And neither are the men in the photos. And there are lots of different men.

In some of the snap-shots, Mrs. Nevins and these men are kissing deeply, passionately. But in most of them, she is either deep-throating their cocks with tiny tears streaming out the corners of her eyes, indicating how far down her throat their pricks are reaching. Or she's being bent over a desk, getting fucked doggie-style. Or she's getting her pussy eaten in the backseat of a luxury SUV. Or she's tied up and having candle wax dripped onto her naked body. Or she's having a humungous butt-plug forced up her asshole.

The sexual energy that radiates off of these black-and-white still-shots hits you hard in the face. Like someone's long deep hot breath seeping into your pores.

As Mr. Nevins flips through the stack, tears are welling up in his eyes. His hands are shaking. I'm expecting him to excuse himself from my office any second now. He strikes me as the type that won't be able to make it back to his car before he begins vomiting in the parking lot.

But why then does he just keep flipping through the photos? Tears are now meandering down his cheeks, but at the same time he just can't bear to look away from each and every picture. He analyzes each one for 30 seconds or more before flipping to the next one.

And suddenly a voice inside my head tells me the answer...

It's because he LOVES this shit.

He doesn't want to show it, but he loves seeing his wife like this...cheating on him...doing the most depraved acts possible...with other men.

"Mr. Nevins," I say assertively. "You have more than enough evidence here to make a legitimate case for divorce."

"Divorce?!" Nevins perks up angrily. "Why, I could never even fathom it!"

"Mr. Nevins," I say, staring him straight in the eye, "I apologize, but most men who hire me to trail their wives do so with the intent that if I photograph their spouse in such...uncompromising positions...such as these photos reveal...well, then they have all the incriminating evidence they need to know..."

"To know what?!" Nevins whines.

"Well, that their wife is nothing more than a common slut, quite frankly."

"Divorce..." Nevins ponders, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, shaking his head no. Then he resumes flipping through the photos, scrutinizing each one.

"I can't," he sighs. "I just...can't divorce her. I guess I...love her too much."

What an idiot, I think to myself.

"Mr. Martin," Nevins says, unable to tear himself away from the photos, "I want you to know that I will still be requiring your services. Just keep...following her. And...keep taking pictures. I need to know what she's doing...at all times...whenever she's not with me."

Jackpot.

"That type of surveillance will be very costly, Mr. Nevins. I do have other clients that require my time, but if you're willing to pay for such a high level of service, it can be arranged. Of course I will have to get my partner, Douglas Johnson, involved with the task of trailing Mrs. Nevins. So this may be quite an expensive venture for you...if you truly want to pursue it."

"Money is no object!" he shouts, his red watery eyes still affixed on the photos.

For some reason, something sinister stirs inside me. I realize my testicles are tingling with a sick sense of anticipation. But anticipation of what, I do not know. At least not yet.

*******

My partner, Johnson, and I are on another overnight stakeout, watching Nevins' wife, Tanya. It's our third overnight this week, and it's only Wednesday. It's like we've become obsessed. We've been slacking off on our other clients' cases just so we can devote the majority of our time to following and watching this conniving little nymphomaniac.

Tonight she is with a guy who looks no more than 19 or 20 years old. Mrs. Nevins met him at the gym just two hours ago. Apparently he's her new personal trainer. And tonight, in his apartment, he is personally training her body in more ways than one. He's training her to take cock deep in all three of her holes.

Johnson and I can see everything. The personal trainer has left all the lights on in his bedroom (...you wouldn't believe how many people deep down love exhibitionism).

And through the window, Johnson and I can see practically every hair, every pore, every bead of sweat on their naked bodies. Binoculars have to be the best invention ever made available to the common man.

"There she goes again," Johnson whispers, breaking the silence in our darkened car. "By the scrunched-up look on her face, I would say the kid just pulled his cock from her cunt and slid it up her ass."

Johnson is right. On all fours, Tanya Nevins is gritting her teeth, her nostrils are flared, her pretty green eyes are crossing. Behind her, the personal trainer has his hands on her hips, pushing and pulling her onto his cock. I pan up with my binoculars until I reached his face, and then I see him mouth the words: "That's it, take my dick up your ass!"

I pan down to watch Mrs. Nevins. She's in her early thirties, but still has the body of an 18-year-old. Her tits are pure perfection, thanks to the boob job Nevins paid for. I'm watching those big, heavy fun-bags swing back and forth as she gets fucked in the ass by a man she just met. Her flesh is coated in perspiration. Her stylish hairdo has gone erotically wild.

I pan my binoculars to her face to get a close-up. Her expression makes it look like this is the best thing she's ever experienced in her entire life.

And right then, I see something else that makes my cock go completely rigid. I see her mouth the words: "Spank my ass while you fuck it."

Good Lord, I think to myself.

"I have this intense desire to humiliate her," I suddenly hear myself saying aloud.

It's quiet for a moment.

"I have an intense desire to fuck the living shit out of her," Johnson says.

"Perhaps," I say, staring through the lighted window watching Tanya Nevins enjoy that big fat dick deep in her ass, "both can be arranged."

*******

The home of Mr. & Mrs. Walter Nevins has got to be the easiest house I've ever broken into.

"I can't believe these rich idiots don't have a first-rate security alarm," whispers Johnson, as we stealthily creep through the kitchen and up the stairs toward the bedroom...which is where we know the couple is at this very moment.

"I knew they wouldn't," I whisper back. "Nevins is spread so thin paying for every luxury under the sun to keep his slut-wife happy that he can't even afford a security system."

I pass by a full-length mirror in the hallway and get a quick jolt from the reflection of Johnson and myself. We're both wearing ski masks so we can't be identified. We look very menacing in our all-black leather outfits. We look like we've come here to fuck some shit up.

We come to the bedroom door and inside I can hear Nevins and his wife arguing.

"I just want to know, Tanya, what do you DO all day?" Nevins grumbles. "Where do you go? Who do you see? Those are simple questions, no?"

"Jesus Christ, Walter! There you go again -- trying to make me feel guilty because I'm not a workaholic like you!"

This is the first time Johnson and I have heard Tanya's voice at such a close proximity. She even SOUNDS like a nympho. She's got that sexy rasp thing going on, like Demi Moore.

"Tanya, honey," Nevins tries to reconcile, "just come to bed, sweetie. It's been a while you know...since we've...made love..."

"Oh Walter, I'm just not in the mood for that. I'm exhausted!"

"But Tanya, it's been months -- in fact almost an entire year now -- since we've been intimate."

"Not tonight, Walter. I'm all sweaty and filthy from my workout and I need to get a hot shower and go to sleep."

Johnson and I look at each other. We know she wasn't really exercising at the gym. No, she was "working out" at her personal trainer's apartment again.

"Are you ready to teach this bitch a lesson?" Johnson growls.

I answer him by kicking in the bedroom door. It practically flies off the hinges and Tanya Nevins, who is standing at the foot of the bed, lets out a quick scream. Walter, who is in bed with his head propped up on a pillow, jolts up as if a bomb has gone off.

They barely have time to register that two tall, husky, masked men are coming toward them.

With one hand I grab Tanya by the hair, while my other hand grabs one of her meaty tits. And just like that, I force her down onto the bed. Meanwhile, Johnson takes care of Nevins with a rough smack to the face, which completely stuns him. Then he duct-tapes his wrists to the headboard.

"No!" Tanya screams at me as I hold her down. The fear in her eyes alone is such a turn-on.

I've always wanted to spit in a beautiful woman's face for some strange reason. So I do it to Tanya Nevins right now.

Some of my saliva hits her in the eye and she winces.

She lifts her head and opens her mouth to scream again. So I spit on her slut-face once more. Some of it flies into her gaping mouth-hole and her head snaps back. She gags as she gulps down my saliva.

I lean in close and hiss into her ear, "Scream again, bitch, and you'll be drinking my drool all night."

Suddenly her body relaxes. I guess she knows she can't win. And I guess she knows why we're here. To fuck the holy shit out of her.

She looks deep into my eyes and a sense of calm comes over her. She knows she's going to get her slutty little holes filled up again today.

"You ever get raped, bitch?" Johnson laughs, walking toward her, unzipping his fly.

Tanya remains silent. Her eyes are wide with a mixture of fright and sexual anticipation. She quickly shakes her head no.

"Well, tonight's your lucky night then," Johnson says.

"Please!" Nevins begs, tied up on the same bed where he's going to witness his wife get completely violated. "Please don't do this!"

As I hold her down, Johnson roughly tears off Tanya's exercise pants so that she's naked from the waist down. The dirty slut isn't even wearing panties. The stink of her well-fucked cunt floats into the open air.

"Mmmm, smell that, man?" Johnson moans, drinking in Tanya's musky scent. "This rich bitch's cunt smells like oysters. Mmm, I LOVE that strong slutty cunt-smell."

"That stink means one thing, baby," Johnson laughs, staring down at his victim. "It means your pussy LOVES cock."

"Yeah," I say in a raspy voice so that Nevins won't know it's me, "cunts only smell THAT strong when they've been gettin' pumped full of cocks. Lots of DIFFERENT cocks!"

"You been fucking lots of cocks behind your husband's back, bitch?!" Johnson snarls, fiercely grabbing a handful of her hair.

"N-n-no," she sputters, looking up at us like a deer caught in headlights. "Of course not!"

I give her a quick, light smack to the face. Not too hard, but hard enough so she knows we're not fucking around.

"Please...don't!" she cries.

"Slut, I'm gonna ask you just one more time," Johnson says, pulling his rock-hard cock from his pants. "And you'd BETTER give us the right answer this time. Have you been fucking and sucking lots of other men behind your husband's back?"

Tanya's eyes drift to those of her husband, who is staring right at her from the head of the bed. She remains silent. So I smack her face again, even harder this time.

The smack stings enough that she immediately screams out, "Yes! I have! I've been fucking lots of cocks behind his back!"

"Well, well, well," Johnson laughs, looking up at Walter Nevins. "What do you think of that, Mister? Your fucking slut-wife has been roaming around town fucking strange cocks."

Nevins is still staring at his wife, completely enraged now.

"I...I think...I think she's a fucking whore!" he screams.

"Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?" Johnson says.

"If I wasn't tied up right now, I'd give her the fuck of her life and teach her that my cock is all she needs. I'd show her that she doesn't have to fuck other men to get off."

"Well, nice try but we're not untying you, shit-head," Johnson snorts. "But, we may be able to help you out in another way...we could teach her a lesson FOR you."

"Oh God," Tanya whimpers completely helpless. "Oh God, no."

"Come on, Mister," Johnson urges. "This bitch wife of yours has been fucking and sucking other men's cocks behind your back! That's the ultimate insult to your manhood!"

"Oh shit, look at him," I laugh. "You hit a nerve. Look at how mad he is."

Tied to the headboard, Walter Nevins' face has gone beat-red. He's breathing forcefully through his gritted teeth.

"Tanya," he growls, looking deep into his wife's fearful eyes, "you brought this upon yourself."

"Noooo!!" she screams. "No, Walter honey, don't let them hurt me. PLEASE!"

"Go ahead, boys..." Nevins says, granting us permission to do our worst, "...rape the shit out of her!"

"No, Walter!! No, I'm SORRY!" she shrieks.

But she doesn't scream for long. Because the next thing she knows is a 10-inch prick has been stuffed down her throat. That shuts her up.

"Take my cock deep in that throat, Tanya," Johnson snickers, "and maybe I'll let you take a breath in a minute."

While Johnson fucks her face, I rip the sweaty sports bra clean off her body. Her big tits jostle as they spring free.

I take them in my hands and kneed them as if they were dough. I look up at Nevins. You would think a man witnessing his wife getting raped would look away. But no, not Nevins. No, he can't bear to miss a single moment of this.

"You like watching you're wife get abused?" I ask him.

"Yes," he snarls, staring at her as she deep-throats Johnson's big dick. "Teach her a lesson for me. Torture the bitch."

Flat on her back, with her head hanging over the edge of the bed, Tanya Nevins is getting her throat gagged by Johnson's massive fuck-stick.

She sounds like she's being strangled as thick, gloppy saliva pours from her mouth and oozes down all over her face.

Johnson pulls his cock out of her mouth and she gasps for breath.

"Oh dear God," she pants, "that's the biggest cock I've ever sucked in my life!"

"Betcha can't wait till it's fucking your cunt," Johnson quips.

"Please," Tanya begs, still not sure she wants this to happen to her, "please, no more. Please stop."

"Stop?" I laugh. "We just got started, honey."

"Look, sweetie," Johnson tries to reason with her, "you KNOW you've been a bad girl, so now it's time to pay for your sins."

"That's right," I concur. "Now do a good job and show us what a dirty little whore you are...and MAYBE we'll let you live."

"All you gotta do is show our cocks a good time," Johnson says. "And that shouldn't be hard for a slut like you...seeing how much you just LOVE dick."

I quickly flip Tanya's little body over and tell her to get up on all fours. But she remains lying flat and completely still.

Only one way to fix that.

I notice a candle burning on the nightstand next to Walter. I smile at him, taking the candle into my hand.

"Watch this..." I tell him, holding the flame right over his wife's naked back.

Slowly, I tilt the candle and start to pour hot wax all over Tanya's shoulder blades.

She lets out a blood-curdling scream as I move the candle down toward the small of her back, letting the wax drip everywhere.

As the candle moves toward the flesh of her thick meaty ass, she starts to obey and gets up on all fours as I told her to. Her entire body is trembling as hot wax dribbles onto her quivering ass cheeks.

"Now that's a good girl," I say, putting the candle back on the nightstand.

Johnson starts slapping her in the face with his thick, wet schlong.

"She's starting to learn who's boss tonight," he says, looking down into her eyes.

"Arch your back," I tell the slut, and she obeys.

I gaze at her submissive body, completely mesmerized. I'm truly in awe of Tanya's ass. It just seems to be begging for a nice brutal pounding.

"Look at this shit," I say to Johnson. "It's gotta be the most beautiful ass I've ever seen in my life."

"God-DAMN!" Johnson howls. "That's a perfect fucking rump-roast right there! We are gonna fuck the SHIT outta that!"

Both of us are practically salivating all over that big, sexy butt.

"Shake that ass, bitch! Make that meat dance for us!"

I stare in wonder as Tanya complies. Those thick fleshy butt cheeks start flapping back and forth, then up and down...wiggling...jiggling. Pure fucking heaven.

I start to spread the cheeks apart very slowly, savoring the moment, and a pungent stench emanates from her cunt...or her asshole...or both. All I know is these holes want to get filled up with some good hard cock.

"Goddamn, you stink like a fucking whore," I scold her, smacking her right ass cheek.

"Please!" she cringes. "I- I- I've just been working out at the gym and...I'm not fully clean back there."

"Working out, my ass! You've been getting fucked tonight, haven't you?!"

She doesn't answer me, so I give her right ass cheek another powerful slap.

"N-n-no! I haven't gotten fucked tonight!" she lies.

A hard smack lands right on her left ass cheek, leaving a red handprint and causing her to scream out: "Yes! Yes, you fucking bastard! I got fucked tonight! I've been fucked by three different men today!"

"And you're gonna be fucked by two more right now!" Johnson barks and pushes his prick into her mouth for another deep throat-fucking.