by Jefferson James
Cal and I needed some money so we decided to holdup a diner. We were on Route 66 somewhere in northern New Mexico and there were plenty to choose from. We picked a place on the outskirts of a small town that looked pretty deserted and went to work.
Inside there was just the cook at the grill and one couple sitting together in a booth. They were probably newlyweds on their honeymoon, or something. They were both sitting on the same side, glowing with happiness and whispering back and forth.
I’m guessing they were in their late twenties or early thirties. The woman had real short dark hair, light brown eyes and modest makeup. The guy looked like mister eager beaver middle management. His hair was styled and he had on a dress shirt.
While I pretended to look at the menu, Cal went to the restroom to take a whiz and make sure no one was in there; we’ve had surprises like that before.
When he came out, he moved into the booth behind the honeymooners with his knees on the seat, leaning over the back. It was an intrusion they certainly didn’t seem to appreciate and they both responded by giving him a dirty look.
“She’s got a sexy mouth and a nice long neck,” Cal said to the guy. “You ever throat fuck her?”
Before either of them could react, Cal grabbed the woman by the hair, put his gun to the guy’s head, pulled back the hammer with his thumb, and added, “I’m going to.”
That was my cue. Pulling out my gun I pointed it at the cook. He got real cooperative real fast. Holding his hands were I could see them, he nodded toward the cash resister and told me to help myself.
The husband started to say something, stopping when Cal shoved the guy’s head against the wall using the gun, telling him, “You stay quiet as a mouse. I don’t think my girlfriend here wants your brains splattered all over her.”
The girl was scared shitless. I was almost ten feet away and I could see her shaking. She didn’t budge when Cal let loose of her hair and stroked her throat. When his hand started moving down and into the front of her blouse, she just swallowed hard and looked up like she was looking for something on the ceiling to think about so that she could ignore what my partner was doing.
“…little titties. I like little titties,” Cal said, grinning. “…firm little handful and stiff little nipples. Nice raisins, baby,”
The guys face turned beet red with rage, and he told Cal, “You leave her alone!”
“What if I don’t?” Cal asked, getting a little angry himself. “Get smart, asshole. She’s getting what she’s getting whether you’re alive to see it or not. My girlfriend, here, knows she getting fucked and she’s trying to get used to the idea. You had better get used to it too. She’s as good as reamed and creamed. Do you want to die, or would you rather sit quiet and watch her give head and spread?”
The guy started to answer, but his hot little bride shushed him. The cook was being ultra-cooperative too. He voluntarily laid face down on the floor behind the counter and let me handcuff and gag him. I flipped around the sign that said the place was closed and shut the shades. I was just coming up to the couple’s booth when the woman started unbuttoning the front of her blouse, whispering, “I’ll do whatever you want. Please, just don’t hurt him.”
“You’ll do whatever I want even if I have to kill him and hurt you real bad,” Cal said. “You getting fucked is likely to have a happier ending, though, if we do things my way. Get up.”
As Cal sucked on the woman’s tits, I sat down across from Mr. Honeymoon and told him, “It ain’t so bad; she’s getting the screwing, not you. Behave yourself and your dick won’t get cut off and nailed to the wall like the last guy that didn’t listen. Besides, you might enjoy watching her getting it from someone else. You wouidn’t be the first husband to get a stiff dick while his wife had another man’s up her cunt.”
The guy looked like he wanted to say something, but the thought of his dick hanging from the wall was keeping him quiet. Instead, he looked at his wife who was standing with her arms at her sides, her blouse open, her bra pushed up, both tits wet with saliva, quaking, shaking and sniffling, and a tear running down her cheek. He sniffled too.
“What are wearing down below?” Cal asked her. “Are those pantyhose?”
Shaking her head slowly, she whispered, “…thigh-high stockings.”
“Panties?” he asked.
Nodding she said, “…red lace.”
“Nice,” I said, winking at her husband.
As he lifted her skirt, giving everybody a peek, Cal told her, “Keep the stockings. Get rid of the panties.”
She and her husband both swallowed hard. She nodded, but didn’t otherwise move. Cal let her stall a lot longer than I thought he would. Then, nodding again, she very slowly reached under her skirt, bending over and lowering her panties to her knees. From there, they fell to the floor and she stepped out of them.
“Just in time,” Cal said, gripping her chin and looking her in the eye. “Someone was about to get hurt, and it wasn’t me or my partner.”
Cal roughly let go of her face, and I winked at her husband again. Then, knowing what was coming next, I pushed everything on the table off his side. The coffee that landed in his lap wasn’t hot enough to scald, but it was hot enough to get his attention. While he was dealing with that, I patted the table’s top and said to his wife, “Hop on up, Sweetums.”
She wasn’t allowed to stall this time. Cal grabbed her by the waist and lifted her onto the table. Putting my hands behind my head, I leaned back and made an exaggerated show of watching, and said, “I wish I had some popcorn.”
Tears were streaming down little Mrs. Newlywed’s cheeks. She was willing to do what she had to do and was going to do it, but she sure was hating it. Her big brown eyes flitted from her husband to me, and then to Cal. He put his hand smack dab in the middle of her face and shoved her backwards.
“Swing it around,” He told her. “Hang your head off the end of the table and stretch out that long sexy neck of yours. You’re getting throat fucked, remember?”
Twisting up her pretty face, she gave a quick shake of her head and said, “You can’t be serious. I’ve never done that before. I don’t know now.”
“I’m as serious as a fucking heart attack,” Cal told her. “I don’t care whether you gag on it, spew out your nose and choke to death on your own vomit. Your throat will feel just as good and your body will stay warm long enough for a good fuck. Being alive after we’ve put cum in your belly from both ends is something you want. It ain’t something we care about one way or the other. Now get yourself like I told you.”
Nodding and sobbing, she started moving her feet toward her new husband, but I grabbed her by the leg and forced her to turn in my direction so I could get a good shot of her soon-to-be-fucked slit. It was shaved clean and looked extra sexy. As she moved into position for Cal, I told her, “You got some nice looking stuff, Sweetums. I don’t like pussies with big flapping lips. I’ll still fuck ’em, but I prefer something like you got. …firm outer lips with just a little puffiness, little inner lips just peeking out like they’re all shy and stuff, but still inviting me in for a good time. It’ll be gooey when I get there, but that’s okay. I kind of like sticking it in a creampie.”
Talking about her cunt like that seemed to get her more worked up. She obviously knew before she was even put up on the table that she’d soon have a serious case of sloppy slit, but having me talk about it seemed to make it easier for her to imagine. She covered her face with her hands, sniffled a couple of times and then just out and out started bawling.
Cal wasn’t moved in the least. He’d had enough of her stalling. Grabbing her by the hair, he yanked her onto her back. A few seconds later and her long neck was bulging from his cock in her throat. Her bottom lip was smashed against his belly and her top lip was kissing his balls. She was squealing and thrashing around so much I had to help hold her down. Cal pulled back, she sucked in as much air as she could through her nose, and immediately had her throat full of dick again.
As I watched her neck bulge with each stroke, I worked four fingers into her. The two up her ass got her squealing even louder. She tried to move away, but she couldn’t go side to side because I was holding onto the hood of her clit with the thumb and forefinger of my other hand. Cal was ramming into her from one end, and I was ramming into her from the other.
Mr. Newlywed was trying his best to act outraged and sympathetic, but I was pretty sure he was getting off on seeing his little bride swallowing meat. Experience has shown me that it’s really hard for a guy to watch a girl getting her pipe plowed and not get a stiffy, even if it’s his wife or girlfriend. Although, they usually don’t like watching you do their daughter. And it doesn’t seem to matter whether she’s in her late teens or early forties.
The darling missus was starting to calm down a little. Her tight little butthole was getting used to having my pinkie and ring finger pumping it, and her whining died down. Her pussy was wet and getting wetter. The rhythm of her breathing was starting to sync with Cal’s thrusting, and her face was a little less red There would be a change of position coming soon; Cal usually only does a girl’s throat until she gets used to it.
“Spin it around,” he said, right on cue.
When his dick pulled out of her throat, Mrs. Honeymoon wiped her mouth with her hand and just laid there, breathing hard. Cal hit her upside the head and told her again, “Spin it around.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, gasping for breath.
Looking at me with an apologetic expression on her face, she pushed lightly on my arm. The instant my fingers were out of her and I’d let go of her clit hood, she turned around on the table as quickly as she could. Scooting down as far as she could without falling, she gripped herself behind the knees and lifted her legs high and wide.
“Ain’t she a sight?” I asked her husband.
He didn’t answer, but she did. Clenching her eyes shut and squeezing out even more tears, she blubbered, “Just do what you’re going to do and get it over with.”
Cal ran his thumb over her bald pussy a couple of times and then shoved into her. Her back arched, and she let out a painful little moan when he hit bottom. Gripping her by one calf, I told her husband to grab the other.
“Help her give up the goods,” I said, pulling my knife, “or you’ll wish you had.”
Cal chuckled and added, “He ain’t kidding about hang your dick from the wall,”
“I’m thinking maybe I’ll make the cook fry it up and feed it to him, maybe her nipples too,” I said, making a small cut on the woman’s tit. “If he doesn’t behave, that is.”
She gasped and for the first time since the fun had began looked at her new husband.
“Please, do what they say,” she begged. “Do anything they say.”
Making a matching cut on the other breast I told him, “She’s already done too much; she doesn’t want you fucking it up now. You cause her to lose her pretty nipples, she might not like you anymore, especially if you don’t have a dick, which you won’t.”
He took a hold of her leg and we practically pinned her knees to the table beside her shoulders. When her hands were both free, she started to reach for her breasts. At the last second, she looked at me and decided it was a bad idea. Grapping the sides of the table, she started pulling herself toward Cal, matching his strokes.
After only a few seconds of that, she was getting creamed. Cal slammed her hard and deep and stayed there. He groaned, she cringed, her husband started crying and I snickered.
“That’s just the first load,” I told them.
Cringing even more, the woman nodded in agreement. That didn’t surprise me; she’d been cooperative from the start. What did surprise me was that her husband cringed and nodded too. I doubt he actually meant to be agreeing with me, though. I think he was just trying to accept the fact that someone other than him had just cum in his wife and he had to be okay with that, for her sake as well as his own. He was telling himself he could deal with it and would continue dealing with it until I’d cum in her too.
Cal and I switched places. He held her leg and started licking up the little bit of blood there was on the tits. I pushed into her cream-pie. He had loaded her up good and full. She wasn’t loose, though, just extra slippery. I’d be able to pump her for a long time before there’d be enough friction to get me off. That’s what I like about going second; it lasts longer.
As I gave his bride a good plowing, the unhappy honeymooner kept sniffling. His wife whimpered a couple of times herself. None of it was loud enough to drown out the squishing sound her cunt was making. I was sure the cook could even hear it. Whether he was enjoying the music coming from her cunt as much as me, I didn’t know and didn’t care. My girlfriend-of-the-moment’s pussy was singing a sweet song and feeling even better.
I rammed her and jammed her until I was tired and than stroked her soft and slow, When I’d rested a little, I started slamming her again. She got quiet and so did her husband. Cal was getting impatient, though, and I knew he wouldn’t be quiet much longer.
“Look at me and keep looking at me, girlfriend,” I said, pulling my dick out of her sopping cunt. “You know where it’s going next, don’t you?”
She cringed and her head did this quick little nodding thing. Then, lifting it up, she opened her eyes and looked me in the face. I started pushing my dick up her butt. She gasped a couple a times, whimpered, clenched her eyes shut and opened them again, covered her mouth to stifle a scream, let out a long high-pitched squeal, but didn’t protest or resist in the least.
Her husband wasn’t as complacent. He didn’t lower her leg, though. He just glared at me and kept saying over and over in a hushed voice, “You bastard. You bastard.”
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “You never been in her backdoor?”
Then, grinning at his wife, I asked, “It wasn’t cherry, was it?”
Her head did that little twitchy nodding thing again and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. The crying could have been from either pain or humiliation, but I suspect it was a healthy dose of both.
“Hurry it up; we ain’t got all night,” Cal said. “We’ve already been here too long.”
I gave her about twenty-five more thrusts and then pulled out, saying, “ATM, baby. …ass to mouth, Suck me dry and we’ll be on our way.”
She looked like she wanted to puke, but gave me that quick little nod again and slid off the table and onto the floor in front of me. My dick got a quick wipe with her hand and then it was between her soft sucking lips. She blew me for all she was worth. Her head bobbed, her hand stroked, her tongue did what a woman’s tongue should. In no time at all, her throat was busy too, swallowing cum.
Her husband just sort of slumped into the corner and cried quietly. She looked up at me and then at Cal as he got to his feet. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she sat there quietly shivering, begging with her eyes. The moment had come where she’d learn if they’d live or die, and she knew it.
“It’s too bad we only have room for the two of us,” I told her. “I’d like to take you with us and maybe give you another fucking and a creamy smooth midnight snack.”
Cal laughed and said, “There are plenty more fish in the sea.”
As we turned to leave, I watched her melt into a pile of blubbering flesh.
“Now I know what they mean,” I said, just before closing the diner door. “I got my kicks on Route 66.”
(c) Copyright December 2007 by Jefferson James. All rights reserved. No portion of this story may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author, except for a single copy, by and for the person reading this notice, for private reading.