brutal rape gallery
Behind, she felt Zeke’s sweaty palms slap her ass cheeks. She didn’t believe she could stand another intrusion there. Her ass was throbbing with pain from Earl’s reaming.
Billy Bob gripped her thighs and slowly pulled her down so that her cunt was touching the head of his cock. It might as well have been a doorknob it was so big. When she made a slight motion to resist, Billy Bob raised his fist. Resistance, it said, was futile.
Slowly, painfully, she felt the enormous head spreading her labia apart, entering her. She felt the iron resistance of her sphincter subside; the cockhead pushed and trusted, spreading it wider, until it passed by. She watched the thick shaft began sliding into her, like a huge tropical snake down a river bank as it vanishes into the water. She stared in disbelief as her belly swallowed all of it. She felt a trickle of blood down the inside of her thigh mixed with Jimmy’s cum.
Billy Bob placed his hand on the back of her neck and forced her face down toward his until her tits lay on his chest. He forced his hot, wet tongue into her mouth while Zeke kneaded her ass cheeks and placed the head of his cock on the entrance to her asshole. He buried his cock in her with one, swift thrust, greased by Earl’s previous load. Her whining protests were smothered by Billy Bob’s tongue.
Zeke slapped the cheeks of her ass and yelled " Squeal, bitch! Squeal like a pig!" And she did until Lester shoved his thick-veined dick in her mouth plugging her up.
All three brothers worked her like a two-bit whore. They worked their huge cocks in and out of her young, virgin flesh in unison. They dumped their huge cargo of cum in her until every orifice dripped with their rapeseed. Then all of the brothers took turns fucking her again.
* * * Sheriff Beauchamp climbed out of his cruiser, hid off the road and in the shadows, and lit a panatela. His fat belly hung over his duty belt. His grey shirt was wet around the collar and under the armpits. His silver badge blinked in the starlight. It was a hot august night; already the locust trees had begun to shed yellow leaves in preparation for winter.
He gazed with a leisurely attitude at the brother’s house and blew a ring of smoke into the warm, moist air. The lights were on and there were several cars parked in the driveway sheltered from view on one side by a long row of privet hedge and by the garage and house on the other. There was a tolerable level of hard-rock decibels emanating from it. Just tolerable.
Sheriff Beauchamp waited fifteen more minutes. He counted five cars coming and going as he occasionally tapped the ash off his cigar. The brothers were doing a right smart business. Earl, the sheriff was thinking, was the one with the ideas, but he was lazy, lacked drive. That’s were Billy Bob came in. He was the risk taker, the ramrod of the outfit. Together they could go far. It wouldn’t surprise him if Billy Bob didn’t run for political office someday. He had what it takes.