I walked around town for about an hour without hearing from Brooke. Growing increasingly anxious, I texted her, receiving the reply: still talking, need more time
After another half an hour, I texted again and she responded: same
About a half an hour after that, Brooke texted: it's OK to come back now. bring bottle of Gentleman Jack. NOT Jack Daniels Old #7! very important!
This text confused and troubled me. Brooke liked to drink, including whiskey, but like me, she usually preferred single malt scotch to bourbon. I had to think this must be some request of Luke's and, as you can imagine, that did not make me happy.
After I picked up a bottle of Gentleman Jack at the liquor store in town, I returned to the house, opening the front door with trepidation. To say that my apprehension was justified is a massive understatement, as I discovered upon entering the living room the unspeakably horrific site of Brooke, naked and kneeling on the hardwood floor. Luke, also naked, stood over her with one of his large feet on the side of her face, pressing it into the floor, as he was thrusting in and out of her from behind. I, of course, was far too poorly endowed to even think of ever being able to have anal sex with a woman, yet it was instantly apparent to me that that was what I was witnessing. Luke was slender but muscular, clearly some kind of athlete, with a large tattoo on his right bicep. There were red splotches apparent on Brooke's buttocks, where Luke obviously had hit her, or had produced the same effect by slamming his body against her. Brooke was moaning loudly, whether in ecstasy or in pain -- or some combination of the two -- was not immediately clear to me. I threw the bottle down on the couch and started to walk over towards them with some ridiculous notion of rescuing Brooke from Luke's anal onslaught.
Brooke said through her moans, "Oh, god, Luke...Walter, stay the fuck away from us!"
Thus, she made it unambiguously clear to me that she had zero desire to be rescued. So much for defending her honor. So much for chivalry. But, if I'm being honest, there was part of me that was relieved, because I couldn't imagine how physically confronting Luke would end in anything other than disaster for me.
Luke, mid thrust, looked at me, and said, "I see you got my whiskey. You better get three glasses, professor. You're going to need a drink."
In a state of semi shock, I went into the kitchen and came back with three tumblers.
Luke said, "You might as well sit down and enjoy the rest of the show."
Absurdly, I did just that, sitting down on the couch, a few feet away from where Luke was brutally assaulting my precious, pure lady. Maybe Brooke wasn't pure in reality, but having never seen her with another man before, to me she was inviolate. Until then, at least. That illusion of mine was now shattered. Luke's crotch was shaved, as was Brooke's, and I have to admit that it felt like I was watching a porn film -- except it wasn't a film, it was live, in my living room, and it wasn't a porn star I was seeing being ravished, it was my beautiful, cherished, my superior Brooke. Seeing her treated in this degrading, even somewhat savage fashion, and (from the sounds she was making) seemingly enjoying it, caused me to experience genuine cognitive dissonance.
From his thrusts, I could see that Luke was huge. I later learned, in a humiliating measurement comparison performed by Brooke, that Luke was 7.4 inches long when erect. More impressive, however, was his girth (5.5"). Not to mention the size of his scrotum.
Brooke was not smiling certainly, but had a wanton expression on her face. After a few more minutes, she began crying out, a similar sound to what she made climaxing when I went down on her, but appreciably more intense. I tortured myself by wondering how many orgasms she had already experienced that afternoon.
