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Life was good. 57 year old Howard was a retired entrepreneur, a devoted wife, three wonderful kids, an RV that they took on month-long trips at least twice a year and a magnificent brick mansion to call home. The house was nice, set in a lot secluded by trees and behind a huge wrought iron gate. What used to be a guesthouse, he even rented out at a ridiculously low rate. He bought the house 20 years ago from a foreclosure bank, so it was already paid for. His tenant was a nice lady of 34. She was a 5’6� 135 lb brunette who worked as some manager of some department in some office. He didn’t bother with the details too much, he was happy, his dogs obeyed him as master, his kids obeyed him as master and his wife obeyed him as master. Asshole? Who cares, he was happy, rich and didn’t have a worry.

But things started to change. He caught his oldest kid smoking dope by the garage. After a huge argument and some strong words, his son decided to move out. His wife was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, the tumour spreading out the uterus and becoming bloated. She looked pregnant if you ignored the fact that she was 56. And to top it off, his accountant and tax prepare quit on him, just in time for the IRS to come knocking on the door asking questions about discrepancies in the last 3 years of tax returns. His middle son was turning reclusive and stand-offish, his youngest, a daughter just turning 13 was evolving into that dreaded teenage rebel fiend. For six months, he has kept trying to keep everything intact, tired and frustrated all the time, he was losing his edge, but things would look up soon, right? They always do.

His oldest son came home for the evening, just chatting and visiting the family. He didn’t reek of rope or anything when he came over anymore, but Howard could tell that Jason still wasn’t completely clean from the drugs. His wife Pam had gone to bed early, the chemo taking its toll on her. The kids were off in their rooms, playing whatever damn games on their console systems. Jason was outside smoking a cigarette and chatting on his cell phone.

As Howard sat down in the living room to watch some TV on his big 57� projection TV, he relaxed with a gin and tonic and sat on the big leather couch. After about 45 minutes, he saw headlights swing by the window. He looked up as Ann, his tenant came home late again from work. She looked pretty damn gorgeous in her black skirt and low cut black sweater. Walking from her car to the her front door, her heels clicked on the walkway. He noticed she opened the door without unlocking it. She never did lock her doors. Waving to Jason who apparently was still outside. Turning his attention back to the TV, his mind just wandered while the images played on the screen.

After some time, he heard a distinct scream followed by a bang. He looked at his watch, about 10:30 or so, it was dark but still warm outside. He looked outside, the lights were on in Ann’s house, but something didn’t seem right, her door seemed ajar.

Putting on his slippers, he walked across the driveway and past the lawn to the guesthouse. The door wasn’t open, but wasn’t shut all the way. As he swung the door opened, he noticed that a little bell sitting on the top of the door jingled if the door was swung to fast. He peered in, the living room was empty of people, the TV was off, the lights were off here, but the light from the bathroom bathed the room in weird shadows. He stepped in and closed the door. Just before the door clicked close, it caught on the weather-stripping. If he forced the door closed, the bell might jingle. He left it the way it was.

He walked closer toward the light in the bathroom, afraid of saying anything. Not looking closely, he stepped on something. He looked, a woman’s shoe. To be more precise, the heel that Ann wore today to work. He picked it up. A strange thought fleeted through his head. Not consciously catching it, he instead picked the shoe up. A strange sensation came over him. He sniffed the shoe, a slight odour of perspiration and leather and perfume perhaps? He wasn’t sure. He put the shoe down by its mate and crept forward. He came upon the bathroom, looking back, he confirmed that there was nobody in the living room, nor the kitchen adjacent to the living room for that matter. Peering around the corner to the lit bathroom, he noticed nobody in there either. Her clothes were lying in a heap on the floor though, the shower door wet. He bent down to pick through her clothes. Smelling a faint feminine odour coming from her pantyhose and panties, he felt strange again.

He crept out of the bathroom, realizing he still held her panties and pantyhose in his hands, he turned around to drop them on top of the pile. He looked at the bedroom door, also closed, but not all the way. He tried to look in, but couldn’t see much, the angle of the door opening was wrong to see much aside from a wall and a dresser. But he could hear something. Grunting? Shit. He’s being a voyeur watching his tenant have sex. Except… was that whimpering? He heard a deep throaty growl form into the word, “Quit fighting bitch� punctuated by what sounded like a slap. Rape? He thought? He pushed the door open a little farther. The hinges didn’t squeak. He peeked in around to where the bed was at. The sight shocked him. His own pot-smoking son was straddling his tenant trying to get her bathrobe opened. Stunned immobile, he just stood there, his head sticking precariously through the doorway watching.

Pinned to the bed, Ann gave up 8 inches and 75 pounds to her assailant. Howard watched as his son took a pair of pantyhose sitting on the laundry basket next to the bed and tied her arms up over her head and onto one of the bedposts. As he bent over her, Howard saw her face, contorted in fear and frustration, what appeared to be panties stuffed in her mouth and tied in place by yet another pair of pantyhose. Reaching down, he fought with the knot in the bathrobe, then thinking nothing of it, he picked up a knife from next to him on the bed and cut the belt around the robe. Opening her robe, Jason peered over the luscious body in front of him. So did Howard. He always was aware that Ann had pretty decent sized cleavage, and a great pair of legs and ass in her skirts, but he never realized the full potential of it all until now. He watched as Jason took both breasts in his two hands and started kneading them roughly, bringing renewed protests from the gagged and bound victim underneath. Forcing her legs open, Jason surveyed Ann’s love spot. A closely clipped, but not shaved patch of reddish brown hair covered the area. Trying to lift her legs over his head, she struggled a bit, kicking him in ribs twice before a couple punches to the torso took the fight out of her. Hearing sniffling now, Howard realized the sensations he felt earlier sniffing her pumps and her panties were from. His immobile shock was replaced with newfound lust. When was the last time he had sex? Months? Well before Pam had the tumor. A year? Damn.

He watched as his son massaged her pussy, the writhing desperation from Ann as she threw her head side to side trying to get out of her assailant’s grasp. He tried again to pull her legs over his shoulders again, this time, doing it while shoving his thumb against her clit. With her knees now resting on his shoulders, he shoved his thumb harder against her clit, the look of pain obvious on her face. With one hand massaging one of her breasts and the other hand massaging her clit, he smiled viciously as her body began to respond. Leaning forward to pin her thighs against her belly, he continued, her face growing red and sweat appearing on both the attacker and the victim. Finally, in what looked like a spasm, her legs stuck straight up as her body went into convulsions, racked by an orgasm she fought hard against and ultimately lost to.

Howard remembered to breathe taking in what felt like his first breath since Jason’s hand was thrust in Ann’s pussy. He found himself holding his cock underneath his shorts, a bare 6 inches of raging frustration that had been ignored for quite some time. He returned his attention back to the bed, watching as Jason took his own 8� penis and guide it into Ann’s defenceless pussy. Her legs limp from the previous exertion, she puts up only token resistance, Her already slick hole filled by his penis as he pounds away. Suddenly, as if she just regained consciousness, she starts to struggle. Grunting and groaning into her gag, Howard knows exactly what she’s begging for. Apparently so did Jason. “That’s okay sweetheart, I’ll make sure I blow my load nice and deep inside you, okay?� To which Ann responded with renewed efforts to extricate herself from the bonds.

Trying to push him off with her hips as her legs were pinned against her body, she only succeeded in exciting him more, finally to the point where he collapsed on her, stopping the onslaught. Her body racked in convulsions of frustration and angst instead of an orgasm. Howard watched after 5 minutes when Jason finally pulled his now limp organ from her. Letting her legs fall back to the bed, he got off from her, her sobs still continuing without abatement. Getting up off the bed, Jason turned around expectedly and both father and son stared at each other, shock on both faces. Son looked at father with his dick in his hand and precum dripping, peering around a doorway as father looked at the son, standing naked next to a tied up woman who he just raped.

Without saying a word, Howard crossed the room, got on top of Ann and took his long ignored penis into heaven. Forgetting how good sex could feel like, he lasted no more than a minute, blowing load after load of molten cum into the semi-conscious woman’s pussy. Jason stood by and watched as his father caught his breath. Ann now passed out from the ordeal and shock. Ungagging Ann and untying her hands, Howard took her pretty face and looked at it in its passed out form. Peaceful and pretty, even with the hair matted down in sweat, He straddled her chest, sitting his naked, 57 year old ass on her 38D breasts and pushed his penis into her mouth. On seeing this, Jason went back between her legs and lifted her up, placing his once again hard penis against the entrance to her pussy. With a push and pop, he pushed in while he watched his father fuck her face. This time, Howard lasted longer, both hands holding the sides of her head pushing back and forth until finally the first shot unloaded into her mouth. Pushing his penis deeper, he felt her throat constrict on the head of his cock, the gagging reflex milking him even better than his wildest dreams.

Howard got up off of her chest and Jason pulled his engorged penis from her pussy and started fucking her 38D breasts. Jets of hot jism blasting onto her face, landing on her nose, mouth and chin, dripping onto her neck. Father and son looked at each other and surveyed the woman in front of them. Cum dripping from her pussy running into her ass crack. More dripping from her face. Bruises and welts from where Jason hit her starting to appear on her face and body. They got dressed and walked to the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of cheap whiskey from the glass cabinet, they pour some into her mouth and splash some more all over her and the bed. The brown whiskey and the white cum making a weird concoction on her breasts.

She’d wake up hangover and bruised. She’d never report the rape. Even if she could remember the details clearly enough.

Howard and Jason walked out of the house, shutting the door to the light jingle of the bell. Sharing a look of new found camaraderie, they went back to the main house for a good night’s sleep.