The Moonlight Betrayal - 2

in #story7 years ago (edited)

Find part one here. https://steemit.com/fiction/@acheyward/the-moonlight-betrayal-1

The Betrayal

The gunman walks her over to the side of the bed where Frank had slept. “That is one huge bed you two have. What size is this thing? That’s got to be one of those king-size beds.”

“Yes. It is.” Sheri replies.

“Hah, I bet it is. I’ve never got to sleep on a bed that big.”

Frank thinks, and you never will if I can get out of these tie wraps!

The gunman grabs a handful of her hair, forcing her head around, her body having no choice but to follow, so he looks directly at her face. He pulls back and down on her hair, forcing her chin toward the sky—exposing her neck. He leans in closely with his nose, sniffing her like a dog.

“Get your hands off my wife.” Frank muffles through the tape, but he’s ignored as if he had said nothing.

The gunman has blinders on, his focus on the pretty little thing standing before him. He exhales her aroma. “Damn girl, you smell so fucking good.”

Hand still grasping her hair, he whips Sheri around and pushes her onto the bed.

She lands on her stomach, face toward the bed, bent over—her beautifully shaped ass cheeks peeking from under the lingerie. From behind, he can only see the fabric of her panties that covers the slight bulge between her legs. The rest of the material hides between the two ample but not oversized cheeks of her ass. He feels a tightening pressure as the thing below his belt expands.

Sheri lies there on her breasts and stomach; head turned to one side. Taking both men by surprise, she reaches back, grabs her underwear, then slowly wiggles them up and over the cheeks of her ass and down her legs.

What is she doing? Frank wonders.

No way is the gunman turning down this invitation. He turns his head toward Frank. “You have a beautiful piece of vanilla ass there, Frank.”

Wait, Frank thinks. He said my name. Do I know this guy? But his voice did not sound familiar.

“You don’t mind if I have a taste, do you?”

Frank grunts, trying to shout NO through the tape stuck to his mouth.

“No? So no, you don’t mind if I have a taste,” the man says. “Okay then, thanks for understanding. Frank, you’re a pal.”

The burglar flips Sheri over, pulls his pants down then forcefully thrusts himself inside her. He holds her legs up in the air, spread apart, with his body in-between.

She wraps her legs around his torso, crossing her feet in what looks like a bow on a knot. Bends her knees, so her feet push him deeper and deeper. She grabs the ski mask with both hands from the bottom and slowly lifts it up above his lips. She puts her hands on both sides of his partially concealed face, then pulls it down to hers, gently forcing her tongue into his mouth.

Their bodies perform a hot, sexual, slow-motion lambada.

Entrenched in the moment, Sheri pushes his face away, arches her back, reaches back, grabbing the bed, putting her breasts on display. She shouts for him to give it to her deeper and deeper. She’s about to climax. She’s moaning, and he’s thrusting harder and harder as he pushes and pulls himself in and out of her. Now he’s about to climax too.

“Give it to me! Take it! Take it!” She moans until they both explode in an orgasm that seems to shake the room.

“God damn, Sheri, that was our best fuck ever, babe!” He pants.

“That was fucking awesome, Joe.”

Sheri and Joe both look at Frank, still tied and bound.

Frank’s eyes burn with a tinge of red. He stares at Joe and his wife. He wiggles and grunts something that sounds like “I’m going to kill you.”

“What’s the matter, honey?” Sheri asks her husband.

“Oh, how sad.” Joe pulls up his pants, turning toward Frank while puffing his lip out like a pouting child. “Did you actually believe I was raping your wife? I’d never do such a thing. I may be a redneck, but I’m not a rapist. And if I were, I wouldn’t do it right in front of you! That would be cold. But I guess having sex with your wife right in front of you…on your bed…while you sit there helpless to do anything…is ice cold. But hey, this is what she wanted. You may not know this, but your wife is a freak. I think she…well, I actually know, that she got off on you watching us.”

He stands directly in front of Frank, leaning over to stare him in the face. “Sad to say this, but your wife also made it clear that you had to die tonight, and I’m the right person to do it. You might be the first person I’ve killed for pussy and money, but that girl makes it worth it. And she’s told me how much a piece of shit you are, so you don’t deserve to live, wife-beater. So yeah, I’m taking your woman, and she’s collecting the life insurance once you’re dead. We carefully planned this one out, boy. I know I may not look like the smart, educated type Frank…but this will look like a burglary gone horribly wrong to the police. And when that insurance money comes in, me and that pretty lil lady are going off to the Bahamas.”

Joe barely finishes his last statement when Frank’s irises turn bright glowing blood red, right before his eyes.
“HOLY SHIT!” Joe steps back. “What the fuck is wrong with his eyes, Sheri?”

“Correction, Joe. When I said, you were the right person for the job I meant it, but not as the killer. There’s nothing wrong with his eyes, Joe. His eyes are red because he craves blood. At the moment, that blood is beneath your skin, pumping throughout your body. And I think you misunderstood me. I said someone had to die tonight. I never said it was Frank!” She pauses. “Sad to say this Joe”—her eyes widen— “but you’ll be the one dying tonight.” The words flow out with a growl, right before her eyes turn blood red.

“You have got to be shitting me!”

Sheri lets out dull, painful groans and grunts as she falls to the floor on her hands and knees, head facing down and frenetically twisting from side to side. She physically changes, her body transforming as muscles bulge and hair grows out of all the pores of her skin faster than he’s ever seen.

Joe quickly pulls the gun up, pointing it at whatever thing is transforming in front of him. He pulls the trigger.

Click. Click. Click.

This cannot be happening.

He raises the gun to see what could be wrong.

“There’s got to be bullets in the thing.” Joe opens the cylinder of the .44 Magnum and looks into the chambers. Nothing. Every chamber is empty.

He thinks about the night before when Sheri had persuaded him to be part of her plan…a setup. His mind travels back to the day they first met.

He had been played from the very start.

Part 3 - https://steemit.com/story/@acheyward/the-moonlight-betrayal-3

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