But she could see the lust in Mark's eyes and she knew they were serious. She'd seen this look before, from boys she wouldn't date in school, from men who came to see her dance before her marriage, from the men who worked for her husband.

It was a mix of lust and hatred, and though she'd always loved getting that look before, now she dreaded it, because unlike all the others, Mark could act on what he felt.

Mark smiled when he saw the dawning terror in Karen's eyes. He stepped back, surveying her openly, inspecting her body. She was an exquisitely beautiful woman.

She was tall, with a dancer's long, muscled legs and tight, taut ass. Her waist was narrow, her stomach cupping in beneath the cut of her ribs. Her tits, though not too large, thrust high and firm on her chest. She was sleek and tanned, made for sex, and Mark was going to put her to use.

Even her face was perfect. High cheekbones, full lips, blonde hair struck through with darker highlights. Her eyes were wide and brown, her nose long and straight.

Mark wanted to see her full lips straining around his cock. He wanted to see her perfect features dripping with his cum.

She wore pearls, a fluffy, pale-pink sweater, stylish pants in the same color, white three-inch heels. Mark took hold of the collar of her sweater with both hands and yanked down as hard as he could, ripping the front to shreds.

"No," Karen whimpered. They were actually going to fuck her. She could see it in their eyes. "Stop it! Stop it now and I won't tell anyone!"

"Look at those tits," Mark sighed, ignoring her, and he grabbed one in each hand.

Karen almost never wore a bra. Now she wished she did as Mark abused her lush tits, squeezing them until her flesh bulged out between his fingers. Wayne was grinding against her from behind, and she could feel the hard length of his cock rubbing her ass through the thin protection of her pants. She was surrounded by male flesh. She wished she were dead.