Anita parked her smart red Santro in the long, curved driveway of her large home. Her matching red high heels clicked on the stone steps leading to the front door. Amit watched her from the den and, after six 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 28-year old body in fantastic shape. Even now, as she skipped up the steps, he could see the shape of lithe, athletic legs flexing in her jeans. She wore a tight T shirt that scarcely hid her shapely breasts which bobbed perceptibly as she pranced into the foyer of the house. A jacket was carelessly draped over her shoulders.
Seeing Amit watch her, Anita smiles self consciously. 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 black hair free from it's bun and he watched the light wavy locks cascade down her shoulders
"How was your day, dear," Amit asked, sipping juice and offering a glass to Anita.
"Oh, bad. Some thing or the other keeps happening at the office but then that's life." She smiled.
Noting that she carried her gym bag, Amit 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.
Anita 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 T shirt, 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 Anita and Amit 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," Anita said meekly, holding her hand at her throat. Amit said, "Take what you want. Just don't harm us!"
"Move into the dining room!" the burglar demanded. Anita and Amit entered the open kitchen. The Black man ordered them to sit at the breakfast table. Amit 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 Anita'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 Anita's neck to her cleavage with the tip of his gun barrel.
"Now see here!" Amit 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. Amit could feel a trickle of blood begin to meander down one corner of his mouth.
"Please, Amit! Do what he says," Anita pleaded.
"Yeah, do what I say" the burglar gave an evil grin.
"Now, I'm gonna have you both strip and I'm going to tie you in your chairs. That's give me time to get what I want and get out of here. You strip first, young man."
Shaking with rage and impotent shame, Amit began shedding his casual clothes. The Black burglar's eyes darted from Amit to Anita and back. At last Amit slipped off his expensive jockey shorts.
"Shit! I am sorry but you shouldn't be so tense. Look what it has done to your cock" the Negro guffawed.
Amit looked down and saw that his penis, through fear, had shrunk to just a button.
"Bastard" Anita 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..." Amit started to rise but the burglar brandished the gun at him, then placed the muzzle to Anita's head.
"I'm going to split this bitch's head if you don't do as I say, young man!"
"Please! Please don't hurt me!" Anita pleaded, tears coursing down her cheeks.
Standing behind Anita the Black slipped one hand around to her tit and began to massage it roughly. Anita hung her head in shame and sobbed quietly. He then forced her to take the T shirt off. He pulled off one glove with his teeth and reached around to unsnap her bra. Anita's tits feel free and swayed slightly in front of her. He resumed his handling of her firm, large tits.
Amit averted his gaze down at the floor, burning with rage.
"Look up, young man! Don't feel shy. If she is going to enjoy it, you too should!"
Amit raised his head and noticed that Anita was no longer sobbing, She seemed to be biting her lip to keep silent. At the same time, Amit saw that Anita was, barely perceptibly, grinding her butt against the burglars front.
"She is a smart girl. Knows how to make best of a bad situation" the Black laughed.
He unzipped the fly of her jeans and shoved his hand between her legs. Suddenly Anita moaned and her knees buckled. She was supported by the Black's strong hand on her womanhood. Anita 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 Anita to face the table then leaned her forward. Her breasts mashed flat against the table top. She was chewing on one knuckle.
"Anita..." Amit said meekly.
"Oh, Amit. I'm so sorry..." she moaned.
Amit was perplexed. Anita 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. Amit 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 Amit's wife. Amit gasped when he saw the distinct outline of the burglar' bulging erection through the material of his sweat pants. Anita twitched on the table, her rump rising and falling at if to some arousing music.
"See this, young man? This is what a thick cock is!"
The burglar kept the gun trained on Amit 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. Amit couldn't believe his eyes. The man's penis was at least nine inches long and at thick as Anita'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. Amit could almost feel it vibrate in the air, much like the way a fine bass guitar is felt rather than heard.
The Black pulled down her jeans to reveal her shapely ass. Smiling wickedly, he ripped the delicate pink lace panties from her and tossed them at Amit's face. The panties hit them and slipped away. Amit could feel the cool air on his cheeks from Anita's damp panties.
"Don't do this, please! I'll pay you anything!" Amit pleaded. The burglar only smiled and worked his horse cock to rock hardness. He them positioned it at Anita'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 Amit'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. Amit suddenly became aware of an odd feeling. Looking down into his lap he saw that his own penis was fully erect and lifting Anita's torn panties. His heart leapt into his throat. How could this be?
"Hey! Look at your dick, young man! You sure are enjoying it. And why not? When your girl is! I always like girls who keep their pussies trimmed and shaped. Always prepared. And you, girl, kick off your sandals. I like my girls barefooted especially when they have fuckable feet." the Negro boomed.
