Michelle parked her smart red Porche in the long, curved driveway of her large home. Her matching red high heels clicked on the stone steps leading to the front door. Robert watched her from the den and, after two years of marriage, still couldn't help thinking what a lucky man he was to have caught her fancy. He admired the way her frequent trips to the private health club kept her trim 24-year old body in fantastic shape. Even now, as she skipped up the steps, he could see her lithe, athletic legs flexing in her hose. She wore a conservative gray business suit that scarcely hid her large, pendulous breasts. They tested the material of her thin blouse and jacket and bobbed perceptibly as she pranced into the foyer of the house.

Seeing Robert watch her, Michelle smiles selfconsciously. In spite of her beauty she was humble and modest, as modest as her voluptuous body would allow her to be. She shook her long blond hair free from it's bun and he watched the light wavy locks cascade down her shoulders and frame the spread of her bosomed jacket.

"How was your day, dear," Robert asked, sipping his cocktail and offering a glass to Michelle.

"Oh, horrid. I think I nailed that Levy account, though. Mr. Peters actually told me I had done a good job with it. Imagine that!" Her laughter was Angels at play.

Noting that she carried her gym bag, Robert asked, "Stop by the gym today?"

She paused for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Yes. I stopped by during my lunch hour. Why do you ask?' she added suspiciously.

"Nothing. I'm glad you got a chance to visit the club. I know how much you enjoy your work outs."

She seemed to relax with that.

Michelle removed her jacket and laid it across a chair in the foyer. The outline of her breasts were clearly visible through the sheer material of her white blouse, and her large, perpetually hard nipples tented the tips, In spite of the bra she wore. She stretched luxuriously.

"Don't either of you move!"

The sound of the deep masculine voice caused both Michelle and Robert to spin their heads towards the kitchen door. There, holding a revolver leveled at the two, was a large Black man dressed in black sweat pants and a black turtle neck. He wore a black watch cap and leather gloves.

"Don't make any noise. I just want your jewelry and valuables. If you cooperate neither of you will get hurt," he growled.

"Oh my God," Michelle said meekly, holding her hand at her throat. Robert said, "Take what you want. Just don't harm us!"

"Move into this kitchen!" the burglar demanded. Michelle and Robert entered the kitchen. The Black man ordered them to sit at the breakfast table. Robert could smell the burglar's sweat.

"I'll have that broach, lady," he said, waving the barrel of his gun at the expensive bobble at Michelle's neck.

"No. My husband gave it to me on the day we were engaged!" Without hesitation the burglar grabbed the broach and ripped it from her blouse. His action pooped the buttons on the top of her shirt and it spread to reveal her deep cleavage. Her alarmed breathing seemed to make her tits grow, threatening to burst the catch on her bra.

"Now, those look pretty good, too" the burglar commented, licking his lips. He slowly traced a line from Michelle's neck to her cleavage with the tip of his gun barrel.

"Now see here!" Robert rose to his feet. A blinding flash of intense pain forced him back to his seat and he realized that the burglar had hit him across his jaw with the revolver. Robert could feel a trickle of blood begin to meander down one corner of his mouth.

"Please, Robert! Do what he says," Michelle pleaded.

"Yeah, do what I says" the burglar gave an evil grin.

"Now, I'm gonna have you both strip and I'm gonna tie yous in yous chairs. That's give me time to get what I want and get outta here. You strip fust, white boy."

Shaking with rage and impotent shame, Robert began shedding his casual clothes. The Black burglar's eyes darted from Robert to Michelle and back. At last Robert slipped on his expensive silk jockey shorts.

"Shit! What'cha doing with this hamster dick, lady?" the Negro guffawed. Robert looked down and saw that his penis, through fear, had shrunk to just a button.

"Bastard" Michelle hissed at the burglar. He silenced her by drawing back his arm as if to strike her.

"Sit in your chair, white boy. Now, let me help the little lady with her clothes."

"No! I won't allow it..." Robert started to rise but the burglar brandished the gun at him, then placed the muzzle to Michelle's head.

"I'm gonna ventilate this bitch's head if you don't do as I say, white boy!"

"Please! Please don't hurt me!" Michelle pleaded, tears coursing down her cheeks.

Standing behind Michelle the Black slipped one hand around to her tit and began to massage it roughly. Michelle hung her head in shame and sobbed quietly. He then pulled the tails of her blouse from the waist of her skirt and slip it off her shoulders. He pulled off one glove with his teeth and reached around to unsnap her bra. Michelle's tits feel free and swayed slightly in front of her. He resumed his handling of her firm, large tits.

Robert averted his gaze down at the floor, burning with rage.

"Look up, white boy! Look up or I cap the bitch!"

Robert raised his head and noticed that Michelle was no longer sobbing, She seemed to be biting her lip to keep silent. At the same time, Robert saw that Michelle was, barely perceptibly, grinding her but against the burglars front.

"Whoa! This is some hot ho'" the Black laughed.

He reached down her front to the hem of her short skirt. His hand disappeared under her skirt and between her legs. Suddenly Michelle moaned and her knees buckled. She was supported by the Black's strong hand on her womanhood. Michelle seemed to go limp. Her head lolled from side to side and her eyes were shut. She sucked her breath in between clenched teeth.

The Black turned Michelle to face the table then leaned her forward. Her tits mashed flat against the table top. She was chewing on one knuckle.

"Michelle..." Robert said meekly.

"Oh, Robert. I'm so sorry..." she moaned.

Robert was perplexed. Michelle never seemed to abandon herself during sex and, quite frankly, never seemed all that interested in sex in the first place. Now she was moaning like a cat in heat with this stranger pawing her private parts. Robert could smell her lubricated labia and could hear the increasing wet sounds on the Black's thick fingers working her vulva. At last the Black backed away from Robert's wife. Robert gasped when he saw the distinct outline of the burglar' bulging erection through the material of his sweat pants. Michelle twitched on the table, her rump rising and falling at if to some primite music.

"See this, white boy? This is prime Alabama mud snake!"

The burglar kept the gun trained on Robert and tugged down his sweat pants with his free hand. His unbound cock suddenly cleared the waist of his pants and sprung out from his body and bobbed obscenely. Robert couldn't believe his eyes. The man's penis was at least nine inches long and at thick as Michelle's wrist. It had a slight upwards curve to it. The Black massaged his cock with his free hand, pulling the foreskin back and forth. Robert could almost feel it vibrate in the air, much like the way a fine bass guitar is felt rather than heard.

The Black lifted the rear hem of Michelle's skirt and flipped it back to reveal her shapely ass. Smiling wickedly, he ripped the delicate pink lace panties from her and tossed them at Robert's face. The panties hit them and slipped away. Robert could feel the cool air on his cheeks from Michelle's damp panties.

"Don't do this, man! I'll pay you anything!" Robert pleaded. The burglar only smiled and worked his horse cock to diamond hardness. He them positioned it at Michelle's pouty pussy. Her eyes suddenly opened and she rose on her palms to look back over her shoulder. Her gasp sent shivers of fear down Robert's spin.

"I can't take that! Please...." she begged.

The burglar ignored her pleas and slipped his cock-tip up and down her groove. She shuddered involuntarily and moaned again, loudly. Robert suddenly became aware of an odd feeling. Looking down into his lap he saw that his own penis was fully erect and lifting Michelle's torn panties. His heart leapt into his throat. How could this be?

"Hey! Look at that little pecker!" the Negro boomed.

Michelle dreamily opened her eyes and regarded her husband's smallish prick. She narrowed her eye brows and looked at it with disdain. The burglar slipped an inch of his bloated cock into Robert's wife's snug snatch. Michelle's eyes clenched and she hissed through her grinding teeth.

"Tell me you want it!" the burglar commanded.

"Please... don't make me..." Michelle hissed.

"Say it!"

"I... I want your cock... please," Michelle said softly.

"No. Say it loud. Say it with feeling!"

"I... I want your Black cock!" she hissed.

"Go on!"

"I want your big Black cock in me. I want to feel you deep in my belly!"

"You're a natural, kid," the Black laughed.

The burglar began slowly sliding his organ into her body. The resistance of her tight vagina caused his long cock to bend and buckle, but he slowly increased his depth. Michelle moved her ass from side to side and up and down, trying to accommodate the massive invader. Keeping the muzzle pointed at Robert he reached around with his free hand and cupped one of Michelle's swinging breaths..

"Ohhhh..." she said with a shudder.

"You like to have those tits played with, huh?"

"Yes! Play with my tits!"

Precum was drooling from the end on Robert's pink prick. He cursed his body for it's betrayal. He noticed that the forward movement of the Black man's cock had stopped in Michelle's gash. Robert knew that the Black had hit bottom. There was still two full inches of unused cock left! The Black slowly pulled part-way out then slid it back in. He increased his tempo with each thrust. Within minutes his thrusts were so violent that the movement lifted Michelle's hips off the table and force her to her tippy toes.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Michelle wailed.

She looked sadly at Robert, who's hand had subconsciously moved to stroke his own erection. "I'm so sorry, Robert! I can't help it! Please forgive me!"

"I forgive you, love," he responded in a whisper. Sweat dripped from the burglar's chin and he seemed to be lost in concentration as he jack-hammered the blond. A ring of foam formed at the base of his cock at it's deepest marking. He savaged Michelle's swinging tits.

At last, he gave a mighty thrust that slid Michelle across the table. He followed, bringing his knees to her sides and continued to hammer her delicate pussy. Spittle flew from his fat lips and his eyes rolled up into his head. His thrusts became ragged, then slowed. Robert knew that the Black had drained his balls deep into his wife's quim. Michelle's body writhed beneath the burglar. She forced herself back against his cock and wiggled her ass uncontrollably. Gasping for breath, the Black finally slid his slackening erection from her ruddy cunt.

"No..." Michelle protested softly.

Robert looked down at his hand and realized that he had cum. A modestly riverlette of frosty white liquid drained down his knuckles. The Black's cock hung limply from his crotch. It was glistening with his own spooge and Michelle's natural lubricant. Even now, with it limp, it was a massive organ.

"Get up!" he ordered Michelle between gasps.

"Your little missus is gonna show me where the jewelry be. You stay right there, white boy, or I cap the bitch."

"Do as he says, Robert." She pleaded.

As soon as Robert heard them on the second-story floor he ran for the kitchen phone.

"Damn" he thought. "The line's cut!"

Maybe Michelle had her cellular phone in her gym bag! Robert began fishing through her sweaty gym clothes when something caught his eye. He lifted a Polaroid picture from Michelle's gym bag and stared at the image with disbelief. There was Michelle, in her workout duds, standing next to the burglar. Only now, the burglar was dressed in tight shorts and had a red tank top with the words "Trainer" across the chest. From their smiles in the picture it was obvious to Robert that they were quite friendly. When Michelle returned to the kitchen she collapsed at Robert's feet.

"Oh my God! I thought it would never end! He left by the back gate dear. We are free of him."

"I should call the police, dear," Robert said, running his hand over Michelle's head.

"No! You can't! I mean, he knows where we live and he might come back! Let's just try to forget that this ever happened. Okay?" Robert looked down at his beautiful wife. He could see a pool of foamy spooge forming on the floor under her pussy. He thought she had never looked sexier.

The End