Tailpipe 9 (Patreon)

Her hips jolted, imparting a wiggle into her well-rounded buttocks, at how Angie touched her thighs—familiar and appreciative. But she didn’t protest when Angie’s hand slid her dress up her stockings and her garters until all of the skirt was in her lap and Angie’s cool fingertips came into searing contact with her panty-covered flesh.

Peggy squirmed back a little, keening haplessly while Angie hooked a finger on the crotch of her panties and pulled it to the side. Exposing the sensitive cleft of her womanhood, the raven-hued pubic thatch, and her throbbing little clitoris.

Peggy sucked in breath, trying to remember that the look on her face should reflect her desire to hit and scratch at her ‘attacker,’ not how much she was enjoying the ‘assault’. But it was only fair. It turned her on to have Angie’s hands roaming all over her well-fleshed body. Angie deserved to feel the arousal of an unwilling woman giving into her, if that was what got her off. And Peggy supposed it did; it certainly was working for her well enough! She let out tears from the effort of reining in her own passion, which only delighted Angie further.

“Spread your legs, doll,” Angie said harshly. “Big Daddy Angelo wants to see how those sweet black panties are holding onto your cunt.”

“Oh God, no, not here!” Peggy begged, though really she was urging Angie onto the scene change that would bring about her real ‘defilement’. “My husband might come home and catch us!”

“Yeah, that would be a shame, toots. So let’s fuck in your bedroom instead.”

Even knowing it was coming, Peggy gasped at the sheer force of Angelo’s alluring evilness. The thought of cheating on her husband in her marriage bed… between the same sheets where she’d consummated their nuptials! Angie had found the perfect way to debauch her, leaving Peggy without the slightest resistance in all her voluptuous body.

Peggy could see why Angie had chosen to be an actress. The sex was absolutely awe-inspiring.

She let ‘Angelo’ drag her to the bedroom, shocked into compliance by the utter obscenity of the gangster. It made Peggy wish she’d done more to dress the set. She could only imagine how much more beguiling the illusion would be with some pictures of her ‘husband’ strewn around to bear witness to her infidelity.

“I’ve had enough of that dress, honeybun. Get it off and let’s see you starkers,” Angie demanded, stripping off her own suit.

As if bewitched, Peggy watched her disrobe. She froze, confused and then overwrought when she saw Angie naked. Even with her small breasts and compact body, there was nothing boyish about Angie. Which was why it came as such a shock that even now, Peggy bought into the projection of her masculinity. Her womanly curves came as more of a surprise than the blunt, heavy dildo that stood out from her harness.

Angie smiled lewdly at her, stroking the massive strap-on as if taunting Peggy with it. “Remember your old friend, Peggy? You two met last night and really hit it off…”

Peggy made a show of trying to speak, but allowed no sound to come out, as it wouldn’t be able to come out of her character’s constricted throat. Then, as if unwillingly, her eyes dropped to the hard, unyielding strap-on Angie held.

She had to conceal her excitement at the thought that there was no escape. Her character would rue the idea; she loved it. Angie—Angie in addition to the cruel gangster she played—was going to ravage her defenseless body. Peggy the Homemaker was alone and completely at Angelo’s mercy. And what passed for mercy with Angelo was lust and sadism.

“Do you want to wear that dress again or should I rip it off of you?” Angie demanded, grabbing Peggy and pulling them together harshly, her strap-on’s heft shoved painfully into Peggy’s belly.

She snaked her arm around Peggy’s body and in one rush of motion had unzipped her dress. Peggy felt the cool afternoon air surge onto her unprotected flesh when Angie slid the fabric from her shoulders. It fluttered to the carpet and Angie hummed in lustful appreciation of what was revealed.

She knelt in front of Peggy, but not with anything like reverence. Peggy stood there, swaying with a drunken kind of exuberance at her nakedness. Angie hooked her fingers in the elastic waist of her black lace panties and pulled them slowly down over the plumpness of her round buttocks… then hurriedly undid Peggy’s garters so she could get the panties down on the floor with her dress.

“Don’t you dare take off that bra,” Angie panted, wheezing as if she were doing hard labor. Then she laughed. “Those big tits of yours are just too damn tempting, British. And I want to focus on that fat ass until it’s been thoroughly fucked.”

The use of Peggy’s nickname told her it was Angie speaking, not Angelo—there was little enough difference at the moment.

Peggy stood there, mortifyingly and thrillingly naked, all except for the slender black bra that held her quivering breasts. Then she felt Angie’s glistening lips make wet contact with her sex and she nearly lost her balance. Angie spread her darkly swollen pussy lips with her fingers and ran her tongue along the racing pulse of Peggy’s slit.

Peggy’s eyes crossed in ecstasy… she reached down to grasp Angie’s head and secure her pleasurable position, then remembered she should be fearful right now, not crazed with lust. She flung herself away from the electrifying assault on her senses, hitting the edge of her bed with her knees and falling back on it. Peggy sprawled out with a soulful moan she did not at all have to fake. Quickly, she opened her thighs wide and left them there as if they had just happened to land that way.

“Peg-geeee,” Angie crooned, pouncing on the bed and grabbing her lover by the ankles.

Now that Angie had a grip, Peggy struggled to close her legs. Angie happily kept them open. Please, Peggy thought desperately, say something mean, something crude… oh Lord, Ang, if I wanted you to just lick my fanny, I wouldn’t be fighting! I want you to—dear God—I want you to ravish me!

“That cunt is bought and paid for, bitch!” Angie snapped. “Are you going to show it to me like a good girl or am I going to have to take you over my knee and smack your ass until it’s just as pink!?”

Peggy cooed, feeling downright orgasmic as she surrendered. Offering all of her sex to Angie’s greedy eyes. Now was when she gave in—it was all in the script. And this was the part where she submitted to her gangster’s every perverted whim, her body nothing but a toy to be used as Angelo willed. And he’d only satisfy his animalistic urge when he’d turned her little pink pussy white.

Peggy vibrated. Much as she respected Angie’s talent, it would be hard for her to act that out. But by then, Peggy felt sure she’d be past the point of caring.

“Hands and knees, cupcake,” Angie moaned, sounding like she got it, that it wasn’t just Peggy’s curvaceous, naked body that was getting her off, but how excited the Englishwoman was—how permissive she was being. “I want that ass in the air, not on your bedspread.”

“Why?” Peggy mewled in innocent desperation. “What… what are you going to do to me?”

“I’m going to have a little fun,” Angie told her. “Don’t worry, you’ll like it too. All of Big Daddy Angelo’s girls like having it ride right into their ass.”

“You! You can’t mean that!” Peggy cringed. “Put that—that big plonker in my bum? Please, stop trying to scare me! Let’s just make love, like we did the other night… where it’s meant to go…”

“It’s meant to go where I say it’s meant to go!” Angie snarled. Her hands roughly pressed into Peggy’s firm, hot flesh, demanding a feel of the resilient skin, leaving painful red welts with her clawing fingernails. “On your belly, sweetheart! Your hubby may notice you’re not sitting down tomorrow, but he’ll definitely notice the shiner I’ll give you if ya keep funning around!”

Whimpering, holding in a cry of horror that she articulated just enough to sell the illusion, Peggy obeyed. She rolled over and then knelt with her head down, her hands grasping a pillow for support. The thick white curves of her buttocks seemed to fill the air, offered in sacrifice to all of Angie’s crude lusts.

***

Angie felt like she was going to faint. Her cunt was throbbing, practically pumping against the base of her strap-on like she was touching herself. She longed to thrust into the soft valley between Peggy’s clenched cheeks and work away any tightness the Brit had, moan by moan. But now that Peggy had physically submitted, it was time to go to work on her mind, and that would take a little softness.

Besides, acting exercises aside, she couldn’t put the thing in dry. Angie loved that big British butt far too much to ever damage it… at least, past the point of Peggy not walking straight for a while. And English deserved it for the way she wagged her hips every-damn-where she went.

“Nice arse,” Angie intoned mockingly as she crouched behind it—and it definitely felt like she was bowing worshipfully to those quavering white cheeks, no matter what she was play-acting. “So unfair you get to sit on it all day and hide that can from view. You should have to put in a day’s work in some storefront window, letting all of Manhattan see what an ass is supposed to look like! Course, they’d be able to see this fat backside all the way in Jersey, and screw those guys!”

“Screw you!” Peggy hissed tearfully, though Angie could tell those little quivers of hers were far more in anticipation than denial.

“Not yet, babydoll. First let’s get to know each other.”