“I had a wonderful time this evening…” she began as she held out her hand to him to shake.

 

He did not wait for her to finish her speech, but slipped his hand around the back of her neck.  He pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers.  At first she resisted, but her sexual desire combined with the wine he had pushed at her all evening soon over powered her sense of proper deportment and she relaxed into his arms.

 

She was more than just a big girl, she was fat.  Her size had limited her social life and left her naive about dating situations.  She only knew what she had read, or seen in movies, or fantasized about when she was alone and her hands were massaging her breasts or exploring between her legs.

 

He was not like her at all.  He was successful, good looking and experienced.  As she relaxed, he opened her mouth with his tongue and his fingers brushed her face and neck.  He was in no hurry.  He had been confident that he would fuck her from the moment she agreed to have dinner with him.  They worked together and she had been positive that this would be a professional meeting.  She had no intention of letting anything romantic develop, but he had little interests in her intentions.  He knew women’s bodies.  She was late twenties, maybe thirty.  The office talk and his observations assured him that no one was mounting her, and from her manner, he guessed that no one had touched her in years if ever.

 

The evening had gone well.  She didn’t know how to drink, or socialize, but all indications were that she was naturally obedient.  She said she didn’t drink, but he had poured wine for her and when he told her to drink it she had done as he had instructed.  He had told her what to order.  Early in the evening, his directions could have been mistaken for suggestions, but as evening and the wine flowed, he became more and more assertive.  Now at her door she was submitting to his stimulating touch.  He could feel her desire for him to get on her breasts.  She was even starting to squat a little, spreading her legs, and he could smell that she was soaking through her panties.

 

“Invite me in” he commanded.

 

“It’s late, and my mom…” she started to protest, but his gentle finger pressed to her lips and silenced her.  He reached around her and turned the knob on the door.  He motioned with his head and she preceded him into the small one story house.  The living room and the kitchen were separated by a small breakfast bar that seemed to function as the dining room table.  In the center of the living room was a sofa that faced a large television that sat against the opposite wall.  The cushions on one side were compressed far more than the other.  It told him a lot about how she and her mother spent their evenings.

 

He went to the counter and set down the half empty bottle of red wine he had brought with him from the restaurant.  He found a large glass in the kitchen cupboard and emptied the bottle into it.  It all took less time that she needed to cross the room to the sofa.  He intercepted her before she could sit down.

 

“Aren’t you having any?” She asked as he stepped in front of her before she could plant her self in her usual position.

 

“Where is your bedroom?” he asked, ignoring her question as he thrust the glass into her hand.  “Drink some of this; it will help you relax.”  She did not answer his question, but her glance down the hallway that lead from the living room told him what he needed to know.  “Come along now.  I’m going to fuck you.”  He was gambling that she was drunk enough to respond to his direct approach.

 

Her mouth opened in shock, but her hips moved forward indicating that her body was far more willing than her mind.  Before she could say anything his hand grabbed the back of her neck and he pressed his open mouth against hers.  His tongue pushed through her lips and his free hand slid down the front of her low cut dress.  His fingers slipped into her bra cup and began working on her left breast.

 

He withdrew his tongue and lifted his mouth off of hers.  Her open mouth was panting now and her eyes were looking longingly into his. She put her free hand on the breast he was working on to hold him in place, and encourage him to continue.

 

“I want to be gentle” he said.  “I don’t want to hurt you, so you need to do exactly as you’re told.”  Her eyes were glazed over and she just nodded at his command.  The instruction was carefully said; calculated.  He had been preparing her for this moment all evening.  He had perceived weeks earlier that she had a natural tendency to be submissive.  He had watched all evening as the alcohol had stimulated and strengthened the natural tendency.  By tomorrow she would feel differently, but for tonight she was his.

 

He moved his hand from the back of her neck to her arm just above her elbow and moved her off down the hall way toward her bed.  Her resistance was half hearted at best.  The hallway was narrow and she was staggering from her inebriated condition.   There really wasn’t room for him to walk beside her and he was forced to withdraw his hand from her tit.

 

“I should tell you” she apologized, “I haven’t had a lot of experience with this.”  He smiled and stifled the urge to laugh at her obvious understatement. 

 

He wondered if it was more from her being shy, or her being fat that had limited her social life.  It was probably a combination.  If she went to bars with friends, she would have been the fat girl that a group of guys would have always joked about.  Who was going to fall on the grenade?  She was astute enough to know the jokes were about her, and so she probably did not go out with her friends, if she even had any.  Women were even harder on fat women than men were.

 

His hands brushed her hair and he kissed her again.  It was not necessary.  He knew her pussy was already wet enough to penetrate.  Even without her own juice, he had brought enough lubricant to keep her screaming for half the night, but he liked what kissing did to her.  His kisses also distracted her while he unzipped her dress and his hands explored her.

 

He had her out of the dress in almost nothing.  Her breasts would probably have been quite small if she were not so fat.  The nipples were almost nonexistent; just dark red patches lying flat on over inflated tits.  It further confirmed his theory that she had not seen much action even when she was younger.  Young boys would usually mount anything, but they usually liked to suck tits, and the sucking usually developed the nipples.  Maggie’s looked as if they had never been touched.

 

He got the bra off and was working on the slip when he encountered a little resistance.  She said she was not comfortable with him seeing her body, and wanted to keep the slip on.  Well, her mind was not completely gone.  He wondered what would have happened if he had insisted.  It was not worth finding out.  Her body was not something he needed to see to help with his erection anyway.  His cock had started to stiffen before they left the restaurant.  He had been ready since he had told her to invite him in and she had submitted.  He was hard enough to pop the cherry of a twelve year old.  It didn’t matter to him what she looked like.  He was only interested in the warm wet hole between her legs, and filling her.

 

He pulled a pillow off the bed from under the comforter and dropped it on the floor at the edge of the bed.  Normally he liked the first fuck to be from the front between the legs.  He preferred to strip a girl down always keeping his cock buried in his underpants until his hips were firmly between the woman’s thighs, and he had her arms pinned above her head.  Then when she was helpless he would pull down his under ware and let her see what she was about to get.  Women always panicked when they saw his cock.  Usually they would struggle and try to stop him before he shoved it into them.  He would kiss them to stifle their protests, and force himself into them as they desperately struggle to close their legs.  

 

He had never met a woman that had not found his first penetration painful.  Even the black whores in Southern Africa panicked when they saw him.  He was long and he was thick and stiff as an iron pipe.  When they panicked they struggled, and then he would rape them.  He loved forcing their little holes open and stretching their tunnels.  He was big enough to fill any woman he had ever met, and he knew what he was doing well enough to force an orgasm from even the most reluctant.  They usually cried when he went in screamed while he pumped them and in the end begged him not to pull out.  He especially loved married women.  A few nights in the sack with him always made their husbands worthless to them.

 

Maggie was different.  First of all, she was no ninety pound weakling.  She lifted a couple hundred pounds every time she stood up.  Subduing her might prove more than he was up to and secondly he knew that the more a woman had to be forced, the more humiliated she would feel the next day.  He had to work with her at the office, and he wanted to keep on using her after tonight.

 

“Get down on your knees and pull down your panties” he instructed. A little pressure on her shoulders overcame her reluctance and he turned her around in front of him.  He had taken off his shoes at her front door, and now a little pressure on the back of her knees from his bare foot convinced her to get down into position for him.

 

She bent forward and put her hands on the bed to steady her heavy body as she lowered to knees.  He stripped his shirt and jeans as she reached up under he slip and pull down her panties.  She got them down to her knees before he was kneeling behind her.  His chest pressed against her should blades as he ordered to bend forward.

 

Her bed was high enough that her knees lifted off the floor as her as her stomach pressed down on the edge of the mattress.  He hooked the waist band of her panties between his big and first toe and pulled them down to her ankles and off of her feet.  So far she was presenting nicely.

 

His hands slid up her thighs over the thick layers of cellulite.  She was soaking wet and the scent of her desire was heavy on her.  She groaned as his fingers spread her.  Like the rest of her body, she had big lips puffy with fat.  His finger slid down her crack as she spread her legs.  In the dim light he saw her chubby hands gripping into the comforter on the bed as he lightly touched her clitoris.  He reached into the pocket of his jeans where he had abandoned them on the floor and brought out a small tube of KY jelly.  She was plenty wet, but he was planning a long session, and didn’t want to take any chances with her getting sore.

 

His left hand held the back of her neck as he slid the fingers of his right back up toward her hole.  She was struggling to keep quiet as he played with her.  Mostly he just rubbed her lips and teased her clit and vagina opening.

 

“Are you ready?” he asked.

 

“Yes” she moaned.

 

“I like my women to ask for it” he explained.  “Go on, ask me to fuck you.”  She turned her head and looked up at him confused.  “Go on, say it; ‘please fuck me.’”

 

“Please…” she was hesitant, but his encouraging expression gave her courage.  “Please fuck me” she said.  With that he pushed his middle finger into.  “Oh my god” she cried, slamming her fist into the mattress.

 

She wasn’t a virgin, but he doubted that she used tampons.  He moved his finger around in her, rubbing her exploring her.  She was easy to arouse.  If she had ever been fucked, it had been by a very small man.  Well, it was time for her to learn the facts of life.

 

She was gyrating her hips beneath him encourage his finger.  He tightened his grip on her neck and withdrew his hand.  He pulled down his under ware and guided his cock to her lips.  He had enough experience to find her tiny hole without assistance, but he wanted to rub the head of his penis on her before penetration.

 

“Try to relax and spread your legs” he ordered.  “It will make it easier.”

 

“What…” suddenly she realized it had not been his cock in her before.  “No” she cried as she felt the pressure of the head against the hole that was far too small to him.  His cock was nearly a foot long and as thick as her wrist.  The dark read head forced its way into her.  He tightened his grip on her neck enough to hurt.  It was all he could do to hold the big woman down.

 

“No… No, take it out” she begged.  “It’s too big.  It hurts.”

 

“Lie still and spread your legs” he suggested.  “I will make it easier.  I’ll take it out when I’m done with you.  Now be a good little girl and lie still while I pump you.” 

 

Once the head broke through the tight little ring of her vagina entrance it was easier to push more of it into her.  He knew from experience that once he got at least four of five inches of his cock up her it would be more painful for her to move than to stay still: then she would stop struggling and let him fuck her.  All women worried about their pussies and she would submit rather than risk damaging her cunt by squirming.

 

She felt good and he considered abandoning the gentle approach in favor of something a little more satisfying, but he had invested a lot of time in getting her into this position, and he had more long term plans in mind.  He decided he would be gentle as long as she cooperated, but if she needed a lesson in obedience he again give hard fucking more serious consideration.  For now he settled for a slow steady pumping.  He could feel the conflict in her body.  Being stretched was painful for her, but on the other hand, his cock was rubbing places that had never been touched.  Slowly arousal was winning.

 

“Please stop” she begged.  “Please you’re too big for me…”

 

“I’m sorry” he replied.  “I know it hurts a little, but I’m going to fuck you.  I know it’s not your fault you have such a small cunt, but you are never going to be any good to me if I don’t stretch you out a little.  Try to relax and don’t fight me.  Don’t make me force you.”

 

She lay still and took it.  His dominant attitude seemed to increase her arousal.  She began to groan each time he pushed into her.  Soon she was trembling and swinging her knees under him.  She griped at the comforter on the bed as her first orgasm consumed all of her feelings.

 

When it ended, he lay still on top of her forcing himself not to explode in her.  Her first climax had taken less than half an hour.  He gave her ten minutes before he started up on her again. The second climax came quicker that the first.  Her discomfort was subsiding, and the huge cock buried deep in her stimulated her more than her mind could control. 

 

He kept at her giving her only brief rest periods between each session, never withdrawing from her.  After the third orgasm, she was panting, but she never complained as he just kept using her.  Finally he informed her that he was ready to fill her and that he was going to get a little rougher.

 

“Please don’t cum in me” she begged.  “I’m not on birth control, and I think I might be fertile.”

 

“Shhh…” he said.  “Don’t think about that now.  I’m going to breed you; it’s the way a woman is meant to be fucked.  Just concentrate on what I’m doing to you.  This is going to hurt.”

 

He lifted slightly and drove his cock straight down into her G spot.  She gasped as and tried to lift up off the bed, but his hands on the back of her head held her down and he began pumping her hard as he held her down by forcing her face into the mattress.

 

Each thrust slammed into the end of her tunnel.  He moved his hips to the left and raked the head of his penis along the right side of her vagina and then repeated the move on the other side.  Finally once more down into her spot, and then he drove hard straight into her.  She screamed in pain, but her vagina clamped down on him in a gut wrenching orgasm.  Her ass started bucking uncontrollably on the bed and he began pumping her full of the white cream.

 

When he finished he collapsed on her soft body, his weight adding to her own against the bed.  She lay perfectly still beneath him to exhausted to move.  His penis softened in her, but its length remained.  Eventually he pulled it out of her like a foot of rope.  Semen flowed out of the gaping hole it left behind and ran down her leg.

 

“Go clean yourself up” he said as his hands on her shoulder helped her straighten up.  More seminal fluid flowed out of her as she closed her legs.  Her heavy thighs came together but the white liquid continued to flow out of her open pussy hole and ran down the back of her legs.  “Be sure and wash yourself inside.”

 

She waddled off to the bathroom.  He heard the water running.  She was taking a shower.  He turned the covers down and stretched out on the bed.  Now he heard other noises, faint and muffled coming from the hallway.  He would have investigated if he had not figured out what they were.

 

She expected that he had gone when she finally came out of the bathroom.  Her eyes were dilated from the lights in the bathroom and she was blind in the darkness.  She made her way to the bed before he spoke.

 

“Kneel down on the floor again” he instructed.  She jumped back and nearly fell over in surprise.  He ignored her discomfort and repeated the instruction.

 

Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she saw him swing his legs over the edge of the bed.  He reached out and took her hand pulling her forward.  She came to him dropping to her knees onto the pillow he had set out for her between his feet.

 

“Open your mouth” he commanded.  His cock had stiffened again in her absence, and he bent it down toward her with one hand as he put the other on the back of her head and pulled her forward.  She tried to protest, but the end of his penis was already forcing itself into her mouth. His penis was still wet from being up her pussy.  “Be careful to keep your teeth off me.  My cock is very sensitive.  Use your tongue and the roof of your mouth.  Make it feel like a pussy.” 

 

He took her hands and wrapped them around his shaft.  Her chubby fingers could not reach all the way around.  Even with the head deep in her mouth, there was still room for both of her hands on his shaft.  It was all she could do to get her mouth around the thick penis he forced her to take.  He showed her how to rub him and kept her head moving up with both of his hands gripping her hair.  She protested and squirmed, but just as a young boy can control a twelve hundred pound horse with a bit in its mouth and rope on its head, the big girl had no choice but to suck him.

 

“Swallow it” he ordered.  His cock throbbed in her mouth he shoved her head forward driving the penis deep into her and making her gag.  It was a simple decision; swallow or drown.  She gulped again and again as he pumped her full.  When he finished he released her and she jerked her head off him.  She coughed and scurried back to the bathroom.

 

“I’m going to be sick” she mumbled.  He followed her and stood in the doorway as she knelt in front of the toilet. 

 

He considered mounting her from behind and fucking her.  If she did actually did vomit it would cause constrictions in the vagina and that could be interesting, but he decided that might be a little to graphic for her.  She waited, but the urge to regurgitate never came and eventually she picked her self up.  He handed her a damp cloth to wipe her face and then the half empty glass of wine to finish.

 

“I didn’t like that” she complained when she had finished the wine.  “Don’t you ever…”

 

“You will get used to it” he interrupted.  “Come on back to bed.  I’ll give you the last one in your pussy.”  He took her by the wrist and led her back to the waiting bed.  She crawled on to the bed and he lay beside her.

 

“How long has it been since you have been fucked?” he asked.  She hesitated.  She had no intention of telling him about the one other experience she had had, but she found her self answering anyway.  There was something about the way he told her to do things, she just obeyed.

 

“Almost fourteen years ago” she began.  “It was after my junior prom.  I wasn’t going to go.  No one had invited me.  Then my best friend told me she had fixed me up with this really cool guy.  He was a senior, and he was almost nineteen.  She said he had broken up with his girlfriend and wanted to take me.  I was really young and stupid, or I just wanted to go so bad I never thought about why anyone would want to go with a fat girl like me.”

 

They had gone to the prom.  Maggie’s mom had gotten her a new prom dress.  It was white, with a low neckline and an even lower back.  It was altered to fit her and it hid her real size and weight well.  Kevin had been attentive and danced with her and brought her red punch to drink that he spiked from a flask that he kept in the breast pocket of his tux jacket.  He generally took good care of her.  She had talked with girls that were the dates of other cool guys and she was on top of the world.

 

They left around one.  Kevin had borrowed his father SUV and they drove out of town and parked in a deserted place near the cemetery.  Maggie had assumed he was taking her home.  It never occurred to her that he had other plans.  She was just fourteen.

 

When they stopped he told her to get in the back.  That was the first time she asked were they were.  He got out and came around to the passenger side of the car and almost pulled her out of the seat.  She had told him no when he opened the back door of the truck and she saw the inflated air mattress in the bed in the back.

 

“Look” he said.  “I kept my end of the bargain.  I showed you a good time at the dance.  Now it’s your turn.  Get in and pull up that pretty little prom dress of yours.”

 

“What are you talking about?” She demanded.  “What bargain?”

 

“Angela said you would put out if I took you to the prom” he explained as he turned her toward the opening and pushed her forward.

 

She stumbled and crawled into the back of the van on her hands and knees.  She was shocked.  Her best friend had pimped her for a date to the prom.  At first she just couldn’t believe it.  She went numb.  By the time she got her senses back she was on her knees on the mattress and he had pulled her skirt up over her hips.  She turned to push him off, but he pushed her sideways as she turned and she fell on her side.  He grabbed her ankles and rolled her onto her back.

 

“No… No… Stop it…” she had demanded, but then he pulled out the knife.  It glistened in the moonlight.  He had only intended to use it to cut off her panties, but it terrified her so much that she froze.  His hand slid down her inner thigh, and she opened her legs to avoid being cut.  Probably if she had brought her foot up and kicked him in the face she could have knocked him out of the SUV and then got out and beat the crap out of him.  She had relived the scene in her mind a thousand times since it happened.  Each time she came up with something she could have done to change the outcome, but at the time she opened her legs and he believed it meant that she was willing despite what she had said.

 

He cut the center panel out of her panties and then the side allowing him to move the protective cloth out of the way and expose her.  He threw the knife aside and lay down between her thighs putting his weight on her chest.  He pushed his mouth on hers as he used his hands to unbutton his pants and take out his penis.  She felt his fingers fumbling with her lips and searching for her hole.

 

“Well, well” he said.  “You really want this don’t you?  You’re wetter than a half fucked slut in whore house.”

 

It was all he said.  Then he rammed his cock up her.  He ripped through her hymen and opened her up.  He was probably completely unaware that she had been a virgin.  He pumped away at her for a few minutes and then ejaculated.  He probably never even noticed that she was crying.

 

After he finished he kissed her quick, put his hands on her breasts to push himself up and jerked his cock out of her.  He crawled out of the truck, pulled his pants up and got in behind the wheel.  He left her in the back and drove her home.

 

When he opened the back of the truck she was still laying there with her dress up and her legs open just as he had left her.  Blood and semen were running out of her.  She was numb from the experience.  Her friend had promised him he could fuck her if he took her to the prom.  He had taken her.  She had let him fuck her.  She guessed that made her a slut, or maybe a whore.  It was so totally opposite of how she had considered herself.  It changed her forever.

 

“Listen” he asked as he pulled her dress down.  “If you can keep a secret, I would be willing to see you again.  Just for sex, I mean.  I kind of liked fucking you, even though you are fat and all.  I was thinking if you wanted, I could come do you a couple times a week or something; maybe Wednesdays after football practice and Sunday nights.  Of course, it would have to be our secret.  I mean, I wouldn’t want kids at school to know I was doing a fat girl.”

 

Her face reddened with anger.  He mistook it for embarrassment.  She stomped off toward her front door.  The truck peeled away before she reached it.

 

Her mother had said hello and asked her how it had gone without looking up from the TV.  If a commercial had not come on at that instant she probably would not have turned and saw the blood stain on the ass of Maggie’s dress as she walked toward her room.  Her mother may have never realized that her daughter had been opened that night.

 

Maggie said that she hated Kevin and what he had done to her, but she told the story with so much detail, that Dran realized that she had relived the experience again and again.  It was probably her favorite masturbation fantasy.

 

Dran rolled over on top of her.  She was to fat to do a proper missionary fucking, but he arched his back and brought his penis into position for penetration.  He laid his chest on top of hers and put his hands between her legs to spread her thighs, mimicking her first sexual experience.  Just as before she was wet and he drove his cock deep into her.  She gasped as he began fucking her for the third time.

 

“No… No…” she whispered, more to herself than for him.  She was well aware that he was not going to stop but it reinforced that she had no choice, and that was what she needed to start her orgasm.

 

He had intended it to be quick.  He wanted to try to match her first experience.  He was hoping that he would get substituted for Kevin when she played with herself, but her moaning caused him to delay.  She was going to come again and he wanted to feel her giving it to him.

 

He finally did put another load into her just after she climaxed and got off her and pulled out of her.  She attempted to get up to go wash out her cunt, but he pushed her back down.  The last glass of wine, the orgasm and the lateness of the night had left her exhausted and unsteady.

 

“Leave it in” he advised.  “I had a vasectomy several years ago.  You will not get pregnant.”  She tried to look shocked and accusing, but sleep was coming on her fast.  He pulled her night gown down and covered her with a sheet.  He kissed her on the forehead and told her good night.  “I think we should give your pussy a few days to rest.  Let’s get together next Tuesday for another session.”  She only half heard him.

 

He pulled on his pants and put on his shirt on leaving the buttons undone.  He slipped down the hall barefoot.  He noticed the thick carpet was matted down just outside of the bedroom door and had damp spots.  The house was dark as he made his way through the living room toward the front door.

 

“Did you enjoy my little girl?”  The old woman’s voice was not a complete surprise even though he had not seen her on the couch.

 

“Good evening Mrs. Rutherford” he replied without turning around.

 

“Took you long enough to get off on her” the voice was accusing.  “I suppose it’s a little tough her not being the centerfold type and all, but don’t you dare just disappear now and never come to see her again.”

 

“Good evening Mrs. Rutherford” he was not about to explain himself to the old lady or anyone else.  He took three more steps toward the door and reached for the handle.

 

“Does your wife know your not working late tonight?” The old woman asked.  Dran froze in his tracks.  “Oh yes, I checked you out a little when Maggie told me she had a business meeting with one of her coworkers.  She may be a little inexperienced, but I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck.”

 

“I don’t take kindly to treat or innuendo” Dran replied.

 

“You just treat my daughter nicely and I won’t get involved with your affairs” she offered.

 

Dran’s opinion of the old woman shifted as he began to see her as a mother wanting to protect her daughter than just an old busybody who liked to masturbate to the sounds of live porn.

 

“Maggie is grown woman” he said.  “She knows her own mind, but if you wish to fill in your calendar, I believe she is busy next Tuesday.”

 

Maggie’s mother got off the couch and crossed the room to meet Dran properly.  She was wearing a house coat over a thin night gown.  She was not at all like her daughter.  She was thin and in great shape.  She looked to be in her late thirties, but she had to be at least mid forties, possibly pushing fifty.  She stepped up to him and held out her hand.

 

“My name is Angela” she said holding out her hand and offering a new begining.  As she did so, her robe fell open in the front.  She made no move to close it.  “I am very protective of my daughter, maybe to protective.”  Dran took her hand and held it more than shook it.

 

“My name is Dran” he said, “but you already know that don’t you.”

 

“A woman is told her whole life to cover up her body” Angela explained, “especially the area between her legs.  It’s easy for a woman to get the idea that there is something wrong with her; maybe she is ugly under her clothes.  You can imagine what it does to her when a man seduces her and she gives him what he wants and then he never calls or wants her again.  She could start to think that when he got her clothes off he saw something he didn’t like.”

 

“I suppose that could happen” Dran replied, “Although it has never happened to me.”

 

The nightgown that Angela wore was very shear.  Unlike Maggie’s fat round breasts, her mother’s were smaller with long nipples that had been fully developed either by a baby’s sucking or extensive massage from the man who fucked her.  Her breast sagged slightly, but not a lot considering her age.  He stomach was flat and she had recently shaved her pussy hair.  She looked good for a woman of any age.

 

He said goodnight again and made his way out to his small SUV.  He lived less than two miles away and at one AM, there was almost no traffic.  He slipped into his house, showered in the down stair bathroom and left his clothes in the laundry room.  He was naked when he climbed the stairs and slipped into bed behind his wife.  He had been careful to be quiet so as not to wake her, but she turned over and crawled under his arm to sleep on his chest.

 

“How was it?” she asked.  “I gather you got her into bed.”

 

“It was ok” he said.  “She is small.  She is going to need some work to stretch her out so I can use her properly, but she is naturally submissive and I think if I take my time with her she will be very cooperative.”

 

“You are going to see her again then?”  Her voice sounded hopeful.  “You made her come didn’t you?”

 

“Oh yea, I made her come” he sighed.  “You can never really know how a person will react, and I suspect that tomorrow she will be feeling used and angry.  She will stomp around, and have a lot of nasty things to say, then Saturday, she will calm down, and by Sunday she will be itching and start masturbating again with a whole new set of fantasies.  By Monday she will be much nicer and ready to get fucked again by Tuesday.”

 

“I’m sorry” Shaminie said.  “I know you don’t really like fat girls.  I guess it isn’t all that much fun for you, but I really appreciate having the night off.  If I was just a better wife…”  He leaned over and kissed her forehead.  It broke her chain of thought and ended her apology.

 

“Unfortunately” he explained.  “The only person I really want to fuck is you.  What she looks like really doesn’t matter.  Even if she were this skinny little Pilipino girl that looked exactly like you I would still rather mount you.  She is naturally obedient, and she has a tight pussy, that I will stretch out to fit my penis and I think I can train her spread for me.  I told her Tuesday.  I think with proper schooling I can use her Tuesdays and Thursdays.  That will give you a couple nights week and it will be good for both of us.”

 

“Do you want to fuck me now?” she asked.

 

“I’m fine” he said.  “We can wait until morning.”  She squeezed him and kissed his pectoral muscle.

 

“I love you” she said.

 

“I love you too” he said and kissed the top of her head.

 

He slept until almost six.  She was already in the shower by the time he finally awoke.  He slipped out of bed and joined her.  She stood almost five feet tall and maybe weighed ninety ponds soaking wet.  Her skin was naturally a light brown and she had long flowing black hair.

 

She lifted her leg and put her foot up on the soap dish dispenser that was mounted in the shower wall.  It gave him better access to her.  He was erect when woke up.  He was always erect when he woke up.  Shaminie braced herself against the wall with one hand and bent over.  With the other she reached between her thighs and spread her lips.  He bent his knees to lower himself to the level of her cunt.

 

“Ahh…” he groaned as he shoved the full length of his cock up his pretty little wife.  The motion was smooth and steady and he went up in one long push.  He reached around her and grabbed a breast in each hand.  They were small, tight and perfectly proportioned to her small body, with nipples that he had developed with years of sucking.  He steadied her as he began to pump. 

 

“Hmm…” she let out and animal cry as he penetrated her.  The water from the shower fell on the back of her head and shoulders and streamed down her slender back.  It collected in her butt crack when he pushed into her and splashed on the floor of the shower when he backed out.

 

“You feel so good” he cried as he felt her vagina tighten around him as he forced her into an orgasm.

 

They had been married for almost five years.  She had been a virgin on their wedding night.  She was a small woman, and he had spent months stretching her slowly and had been rewarded with tunnel that had molded itself to his exact shape.  Everything he did stimulated her.  Unless he finished quickly, fucking her made her come whether she wanted to or not.  It was one of the most dominate things he did to her.

 

He ejaculated at the peak of her orgasm, and then bent over her to hold her and kiss her shoulder at the base of her neck.  The water shifted and poured down his back now.  She put her leg down and slow straightened up.  It only caused him to pull a couple inches out of her.  He remained half squatting behind her with his knees outside of her legs.  She turned her head to kiss him.

 

Once again she felt a wave of guilt for wanting him to use another woman so she could have a couple evenings a week without sex.  Worst of all, she hated that it had to be a fat thing with no social skills or life like this Maggie, but he had been right.  It was not fair to a woman that had other prospects.  Beautiful women would only be a short term thing at best, and they often came with complications.  Maggie was perfect.  Maggie had a simple choice; spread for her husband, or shove a rubber cock up herself and spend the rest of her life without sex.

 

He cooked breakfast for them while she finished her shower and dried her hair.  As they ate they talked about everything.  Her works, his work, the dinner party that Andrea was having on Friday, even the trip to London they had planned for July.

 

“I have been designated as co-chair on the Henderson case” she told him.

 

“When did this happen?” Dran exclaimed.  “I though you were just assisting.”

 

“Friday” Shaminie exclaimed smugly.  “The partners did not like the way Benson was handling it.  I think I would have become prime council if Benson had not brought in the account.”

 

“You deserve it” he said frankly.  “You have done all the work on that case.  Benson is just a sycophant.” 

 

“So how is your new design coming” she asked.  “Did Pendergrass look at your ideas?”

 

“Actually” he explained, “I think that one is going to cost the company another twenty thousand.”

 

“What” she exclaimed.  “How did that happen?”

 

“Pendergrass liked my ideas” he explained.  “They applied for patent, and it usually costs about that much by the time the lawyers get done with all the paper work.”

 

“You goose” she said.  “The circuit worked; that’s fantastic.” She reached across the table and slapped him playfully on the arm.  “What is that fifteen now?”

 

“Well” he said, “the first one was a lot more exciting.  It’s kind of boring now.”

 

“Don’t make light of this” she demanded.  “Most engineers spend their whole careers without a single patent with their name on it.  You have fifteen with this company in just the past five years.  The intellectual property that you have brought to them alone must be worth ten or twenty million.”

 

“Well the attorney fees eat into some of that” he joked.

 

“I always said” she reminded him “that if Radon engineering would use Allen, Loci, and Heart we could get you a discount on legal services.”

 

“Oh yea” he said.  “I could just see you telling Benson to write patent disclosures and standing in line at the patent office to file papers.”

 

“Well” she countered, “he’s worthless as a defense attorney.”

 

After breakfast they washed dishes together and then she bent over the arm of the couch so that he could fuck her one last time before he left for work. 

It was quick, too quick for her to cum.  That was fine with her.  Her orgasms affected her strongly and she had dozens every week.  After he finished she licked his cock and kissed him goodbye.    Actually it could be argued that he didn’t really cum either.  He had ejaculated.  That wasn’t actually satisfying, but it was enough to prepare him for the day. 

 

He needed to ejaculate to function at work, in life, or in anything he did.  He needed to cum so he needed to fuck.  She was his wife, and so she presented herself for him to use.  She understood this when they were married, and he had only needed to reinforce the understanding once.  She understood that if she refused him she would be forced.  He loved her; desperately loved her, but in bed she was his to use.  They had the most wonderful marriage in so many ways.  He was attentive.  He listened to her; he cared about her and her life.  He had rescued her from an empty existence that had no future in Cebu and he had brought her to America.  He had helped her get through school and had helped her study for the bar exam.

 

Their life was perfect except for one thing – sex.  She would have been happy to open her legs for her man once or twice a week.  He took her three or four times a day, more on weekends.  The last thing he did before he went to work was fuck her.  The first thing he did when he got home from work at night was fuck her.  After the first fuck of the evening which was usually quick, often in her mouth, they would eat, or go out or go for walks along the beach or to a movie.  He was always with her when they were together.

 

Then they when they got home they went to bed and he fucked her.  This was usually a longer session.  It often went on for hours.  He would make her cum several times.  If she was tired, or not in the mood, it didn’t matter; her body belonged to him.

 

Then they would sleep.  Sometimes he slept through the night, sometimes he woke up at two or three in the morning.  He insisted that she sleep naked.  He would rub lubricant on his cock slide up behind her and shove it in her.  He didn’t care if she woke up or not.  She always woke up.  If she was tired or he knew she had a big day ahead of her, he would try to be quick, if not he would make her come.  Then they would go back to sleep, often with his penis still in her.  When he woke up in the morning, she got fucked again.

 

Her mother and sister told her that all men were like that during the honeymoon, but by the end of the first year, they lost interest.  She had half believed them.  They had been wrong, dead wrong.  After almost five years, he wanted her more than ever.  Her mother had told her it was a wife’s duty to present to her husband.  She was raised that way.

 

He liked her pussy most, but once in a while he came in her mouth, and Friday night she always got it in the back.  He was gentle with her when he butt fucked her and she was sure that he didn’t really like it that way as much as in the front.  He always had to go slow and it was hard for him to make her cum that way, but still on Friday night the water based lubricant was replaced with more industrial strength grease that allowed him to force his penis between her small well formed butt cheeks.  She took the full length of him up her ass and he came deep in her bowels.  Now that her rectum was stretched out enough to take him without pain, she didn’t dislike it.  Sometimes she actually found it more arousing.  She was his slave, and it turned her on to know that he was going to fuck her and she had no say in the matter. 

 

It also turned him on.  Dominating the woman that he was pumping was a major part of what made him cum, really cum.  It was what made sex satisfying for him, and gave him the release that he needed to function without constantly fighting the urge to jump anything with a pussy.  It allowed him to treat women as fellow human being; as equals, as people, more than just something to mount.  That was extremely important to him.  Respect for other people, both men and women was one of his most important values and the only way he could function was to fuck the shit out of his wife everyway.

 

Maggie got to work late on Friday and Dran was in meetings all morning after nine o’clock so he did not see her.  He went to lunch with the partners to get told how wonderful he was by people who could not possibly understand what he had invented.  He cared nothing for their praise, or their commendation, but he had to do the political thing so they didn’t get in the way of his design work.  It was five o’clock before he was alone in his office and Maggie came in to see him.

 

“I hate you” she began.  She was almost crying.  “You raped me.  You got me drunk and you raped me.”

 

“Please sit down” he said.  “We should talk.”

 

“I never want to see you or talk to you again” she wailed.

 

“Is that what you really want?” he asked.  “We went on a date last night, and it ended with sex.  I suppose you can remember that in several different ways.  You can think of this as date rape or as just sex, or maybe even good sex.  The past is often what we make it.  You are a woman.  Women need to be fucked.  Your track record is not that great at this point.  Currently you have had two dates in twenty eight years.  At your current frequency you will be fucked again when you are almost forty five.  Is that the life you want?”

 

“You raped me” she reiterated. 

 

“Is that the past you want to remember?” he asked.  “Both of your dates concluded with intercourse.  I understand that it turns you on to feel forced, but do you want to make the sexual fantasy into a reality?”

 

“I was raped.  I was” she demanded.  “Alright, I wanted it last night, but Kevin forced me to have sex when I didn’t want to.”

 

“I know” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder and leading her to a chair.  He put his chair in front of her and touched her face gently.  “That was fourteen years ago and he is still raping you.  For all those years you have hid in your room with just your fingers for company and you have relived that experience.  Is that the way you want your life to go?”

 

 “No, I guess not” she confessed.

 

“I’m offering you something different” he said.  “Couple nights a week…”

 

“You’re making fun of me” she said.  “Men want cute pretty little things.  I’m fat.  Even if I wasn’t fat, I’m not pretty.  You don’t want me.”  He stood up in front of her and undid his belt and unzipped his jeans.  He took her hand and held it against his rigid pole inside his briefs.  “Oh my god” she gasped.

 

“Does that feel like I don’t want you?” he asked.  “You’re the only woman here.  You’re right, some men need big tits, a sexy waist and a cute ass to get hard, but men are not all the same.  I need a woman who knows how to be obedient, who spreads when I tell her too.”  Maggie was breathing through her mouth and rocking her hips back and forth on the chair.  Feeling him, hearing his encouraging words had her wetting again.

 

“Do you think I am as pervert?” she asked honestly looking up at him with big cow eyes.

 

“I don’t know” he replied honestly.  “Depends on what you think is perverted.  I don’t really care if you are.  I enjoyed fucking you last night.  I’d like to do you on a regular basis.  I think with a little training and practice, you would make a pretty good bitch.”  The rough words should have shocked her, but she was already aroused and her pussy was demanding she spread her legs.

 

“You’re married” she almost cried.  She pushed herself up off the chair and walked toward the door.  “You just want me for sex.”

 

“Yes” he replied. “I suppose that’s true.  My wife is a wonderful woman that I love very much and I do want you for sex.  The question is what do you want; sex with me a couple times a week or chocolate and romantic movies with your mother.  Or maybe you prefer lying alone in bed fantasizing about being raped while you rub yourself.”  She reddened and hung her head too embarrassed about the secret she had guessed to lash out at him.

 

“You used me to cheat on your wife” she countered in desperation.  She was trying to make an argument for leaving seem reasonable.

 

“I don’t think I would call it cheating” he said plainly.  “Think about it.  If every day for five years, your husband did what I did to you last night, would you feel cheated if he gave you the night off and worked over some girl that hadn’t been laid in fourteen years?  Our date last night was my wife’s idea, but this isn’t about her.  Go home Maggie; think about what you want in your life.  I’m hoping to see you on Tuesday.”

 

She left his office and he also packed up his computer and went home.  Shaminie was waiting.  She was naked, lying on her stomach on the bed.  She had taken a laxative to clean herself out and lubricated her rectum in anticipation of his attention.  He told her about his conversation as he lay on top of her and slowly forced his cock up into her.  In a few minutes she was scream and bucking beneath him trying to encourage him to fuck her harder.

 

“Jay; get up, you’re going to be late.”  Jean shouted at the top of her voice over the edge of the banister. Jamie was a typical angst ridden teenage young man, lazy and disinclined to venture out of bed before the last minute, or he had been forgotten about.

 

He moaned something unintelligible in response, turned over and covered his head with the duvet; sure in the knowledge that he could get at least another five minutes before his mother screamed up again.

 

Jean returned to the relative sanctuary of the kitchen and her tea cooling on the breakfast bar. She checked the calendar, crossing off Thursday with the marker pen on a string. Avril, her thirteen-year-old daughter had made and brought home the renewable calendar in ‘design technology’. It held pride of place on the wall, accessible by the whole family to mark significant dates like birthdays. Today had the words ‘lunch Judy 11.30’; a lifelong friend. They had grown up together, neighbours, gone to school together, dated and where really more like sisters than friends. They married within a few months of each other, had baby boys only a couple of days apart. Their lives had mapped out so closely throughout; they had the same problems, similar children and husbands. Jean was looking forward to her date.

 

Tea drunk, she set about getting her eldest child out of bed. Instead of yelling up through the banister as she had too many times, Jean marched down the passage, climbed the stairs up to the top landing, burst into Jamie’s bedroom, then without saying anything, yanked off the duvet. Jamie galvanised into action, covering his nakedness and jumping up as if stung with a hot poker. In the split second between his sudden uncovering and the reactive jump out of bed, the mother glimpsed his stiff fur covered cock, pointing at the ceiling. ‘That will please someone one day’, she thought to herself; not in the least excited by the sight, just proud of her son’s physique. At sixteen, he was very much growing into a man with all the right proportions.

 

“I warned you.” She told him over her shoulder as she left for the shower with a show of his dismissal. She heard his, whatever muttered softly to her retreating back. Well she had warned him countless times, even promised a bucket of cold water, his embarrassment would do for now, perhaps he would get up in the morning from now on.

 

Eventually, the house emptied of her children, off to school, leaving her the dishes and a pile of dirty clothing trailing from bedrooms towards the family bathroom. Somehow, the clothes never quite made it to the linen basket until she picked them up. Jean finished showering, dried and took time over her choice of clothing.

 

An hour and half later; Jean had tidied up, washed the dishes, put them away and chosen a simple white blouse over a black short skirt to wear; patent leather low heeled sling back shoes and minimal make up; just a light dusting of eye shadow, a quick brush of a blusher under a thin foundation. She looked critically in the full-length mirror, noticing for the millionth time, the blemish of a small brown mole at the corner of her left eye. She was not pretty, she thought, couldn’t be described as a beauty by any standards, but she was passable, could hold her own in a crowd; at least Bill thought so when he joked it would need to be a large crowd. After nearly twenty years married, his jokes all sounded the same, worn and dated, same as their conversation, their sex life and pretty much everything else. She switched off that train of thought before it went too much further and left her crying as she did too often these days.

 

Her eyes were too wide apart, her nose not in proportion, being small and upturned; her skin needed help; her hair was always a struggle to control, being too fine and a russet brown that she wished was blonde. Jean shrugged as she usually did, tried to accept her plainness, not let the familiar pangs of a slight jealousness toward Judy, who was one of those lucky bitches who always looked fabulous, never seemed to put an ounce of fat on even after childbirth, who’s clothes always fitted straight off the rail and always looked as the designer intended; who made Jean feel second rate, an almost, a could have done better, type of person.

 

She left the semi-detached house, locking the door behind her. Her car waited on the drive, only a sensible Honda Civic, but enough for her needs and the occasional school run when the kids were running too late. She drove sensibly into town, parked safely in a designated spot, fed the machine the correct amount of coins, took the ticket and stuck it prominently in the screen. Bill had a thing about parking fines; he always went over the top if she collected a fine. It inevitably led into a row that ended incomplete when he shut down at her mention of some independence, a bank account of her own perhaps, a life that wasn’t solely wrapped around him and the kids. Bill couldn’t see that Jean needed something else, something that took her away from the house, away from family matters, away from total immersion; he refused to believe she would need to be someone other than Misses Gallaher, house wife; he would refuse to continue the argument as soon as she got into that area, would turn his back or simply walk out of the room.

 

She arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early; secured a table by the window and settled to wait for Judy who would be fashionably late as always. Jean waved the waiter away as he hovered at her shoulder and watched the passing people who all seemed to be rushing to somewhere important. The only ones ambling looked hopeless; aimless and without purpose entirely; she felt conjoined with them, had an empathy with their plight; understood the maudlin feeling of lack of direction, as if they were all just waiting to die with nothing left to look forward to.

 

Her mobile phone chirruped in her handbag after she had sat there for nearly half an hour. She hated the damned thing, but agreed with Bill, to keep it for emergencies.

 

“Hello”. She didn’t think to look at the screen to see who was calling her.

 

“Hi, it’s Judy”… the mechanically tinny voice announced “…Jean, I’m so sorry, I can’t make it today; something has come up. Can we make it next week? I’ll tell you all about it then. Okay? Thanks hon.”

 

“Oh! Okay.”

 

“Thanks; love ya.” The connection was broken at the other end.

 

Well bugger that, thought Jean; Judy was just like everyone else who she was associated with, never a thought for my feelings, no thought about what I might want, she didn’t even ask how I was or even where. She waved at the waiter and ordered a large glass of Merlot; told him no; she didn’t want to eat, just the wine thanks.

 

It was while sipping the deep red wine that Jean made the decision to take over her life, or at least, made the decision that would lead to the mastery of her immediate future. She had thought many times in the past about making some radical changes, Judy letting her down was the final tipper; her resolve was set.

 

Feeling completely new, somewhat rejuvenated, Jean left the restaurant to find a labour agency. She had decided to find a job, it didn’t really matter too much what it was, but something that would provide the first step towards her independence and a life she could call her own; to hell with what Bill had to say about it; it wasn’t like they could discuss it, he never wanted to know.

 

An hour later, she had an application form in her clutches. The initial interview with a girl a fraction of her age had gone well. Her typing speed and accuracy were pretty good for someone who hadn’t been in employment for the last fifteen years. She supposed the hours spent on her son’s computer, writing short stories and articles for the church magazine had helped.

 

She headed towards the park, it was a nice day, intending to fill out the application on a bench and then hand it back to the ‘too young’ recruitment consultant. Jean found a seat in the small, pagoda covered cafeteria and ordered a tea. The form only took her a few minutes to complete; she put it back into her bag and relaxed to enjoy the sunshine and steaming drink.

 

She noticed him sitting at another table no more than ten paces away. Her first thought was that he was beautiful; beautiful in a very male sense, his features conspired to create a picture of maleness that had all the attributes of Adonis. His dark hair, slightly silvered at the sides, was immaculately combed, cut into his nape. His suit was obviously expensive, well tailored and fit as it was designed; Paul Smith, she thought.

 

Jean appraised him, judging his age to be around middle forties. His brown leather shoes that complimented the rest of his garb were polished to a high shine, almost patent in lustre.

 

She realised he was smiling with an enigmatic lift of one corner of his sensuous mouth. Small creases at the edge of his eyes gave rise to the supposition he might smile often. Jean realised his smile was directed at her. Immediately self conscious, she withdrew her stare and studied her hands instead. After a few minutes, she chanced another glance in his direction. He remained exactly as he had before, smiling slightly, returning her appraising look. Again, Jean looked elsewhere and then smiled herself, at her own sense of the ridiculous; she was acting like a crush ridden school girl, the smile was as much for her own depreciation as the unfamiliar flutter in her breast, a feeling she had thought long gone.

 

She shrugged slightly when her next glance revealed that he no longer sat at the table. She felt a small disappointment, but dismissed it and prepared to return the completed form to the labour agency.

 

“Allow me.” He had come from behind, grasped her chair back and took her elbow; an old fashion courtesy. His voice matched him perfectly; cultured, with a vibrato that hinted a good baritone signing voice.

 

“Oh;” She jumped at his sudden appearance. “Thank you.”

 

He pulled the chair away from the table as she rose to allow her room to turn to face him. He was very close to her, perhaps too close for comfort, her personal space felt invaded. The unfamiliar flutter returned in her breast; suddenly she was nervous, but she couldn’t think why except perhaps his familiarity in closing down the gap between them.

 

“Frank.” He stood several inches above her, perhaps six foot she guessed. His cologne carried on the slight breeze, she didn’t recognise it.

 

“Um… Jean.” She felt confusion, but excited by his attention.

 

“Well Jean, can I walk you through the park? It’s a lovely day, some company would be nice.” Without waiting for her answer, her took her arm in a familiar manner and steered her through the maze of cast iron tables and chairs to the expanse of the pathway of the park.

 

They chatted like old friends as the scenery slipped by unnoticed. He was in town on business, ran an accountancy practice with three partners; was unmarried, at least not married after a divorce. Had three children, all of whom had grown up and left home. Lived in a small village in Buckinghamshire, loved dogs and kept a horse, but didn’t ride. Jean told him of her life, marriage, children, and then completed her story with the announcement of her immediate plans towards emancipation. As the time went by and they did a second circuit of the park, she found herself liking the man more and more. She felt relaxed, even a little relieved to have shared her plans with another human.

 

“Would you like a drink?” He asked, “My Hotel is just around the corner from here.”

 

Jean thought about it for a second. Then began to talk her self out of it, then thought, why not? She answered that yes, she would love a drink. Privately, she thought it might lead to something else, something rather more dangerous than a simple drink. The realisation that she was being picked up came as a surprise to her normally safe and protected life, it made her feel wanton, but more than that, she found she didn’t care. It wasn’t like her life was so full of excitement. Jean revelled in the wantonness of what she was entering into; she marvelled at her willingness to fall into this brief encounter; she considered the repercussions and then dismissed them all along with any guilt.

 

A short walk later found them in his Hotel room and ice melting in two glasses of gin and tonic. They sat opposite each other in armchairs in the adequately sized sitting room of his suite, continuing the chat that harboured on nothing very much.

 

“I have to tell you Frank, this isn’t something I have done before. I’m not in the habit of going with a relative stranger into their room and, to be perfectly honest, don’t know what happens next.” Jean thought that she should be uncomfortable, should be ready for flight from the predicament, but she didn’t, she was quite taken by the ease she felt, was happily drinking a g and t with this beautiful man in his room, was perfectly comfortable in the knowledge that she would fuck him in a while and all this was just a prelude.

 

“Jean, if I thought for one second, that you were that type of woman, I can assure you, we would not be sitting here now.” His voice softened to a deep rumble, she liked it very much.

 

Jean got up from her chair and looked at him. Her hands found buttons and one by one, from the neck down, she undid them, leaving her white blouse open, but still tucked into her skirt. She kicked off her shoes and pushed them to one side with her foot. She reached around her back to undo the clasp and zipper of her short skirt, once released, it fell to the floor around her feet; she pulled her blouse off, laid it on the arm of the chair and stood facing him in her bra and panties. She felt no embarrassment at her near nakedness, but rather, bravery she could only dimly remember from her adolescence.

 

“Do I please you?” She asked coyly, hoping that he would say yes. Jean delighted in the sheer risk of what she was about, felt excitement at the prospect of fucking this stranger in his hotel room; she was experiencing something akin to euphoria at the lack of remorse and willingness to become almost sluttish for this one time.

 

“Yes you please me Jean, very much. You look beautiful standing there. I knew you had great legs, I could see them in the park, but the rest of you is just fabulous; you are beautiful.” His appraising look took in her whole body as she stood there before him, almost naked, one foot slightly in front of the other, knee bent across, her hands hanging limply by her sides, her shoulder length brown hair, shining in the sunlight streaming through the window, slightly mussed, partially screening the left side of her face, all in all, a wonderful stance, a picture of womanhood. He felt fortunate, grateful even, that she had consented to this liaison; had become a willing partner. He was well aware that this was possibly a first for her, probably, she had never strayed from her safe marriage, very likely had harboured deep seated thoughts of just such an occasion.

 

Frank stood to remove his clothes, but Jean came to him, took his hands and placed them at his sides. Looking up into his eyes with a steady gaze, she reached up and undid the top button of his shirt, then, with the same intense stare; she felt for and undid each in turn until they were all open. Her hands slipped under the loose flaps of cotton to run over his hairy chest, travelling outwards to brush over his nipples, then up to his shoulders to slip his shirt off. She had to undo the cufflinks so that it could be taken from him, this she did slowly, maintaining the eye contact all the while. When his shirt was draped over the arm of his chair, Jean again ran her hands over his chest, feeling and kneading; her fingers found his nipples and gently pinched them. It was an intense feeling and made him gasp softly.

 

She found the buckle of his belt, still staring intently into his eyes; she deftly flipped the buckle apart, and then manoeuvred the waistband button undone. Her eyes did not waiver one iota while she slipped the tab of his zipper down. His trousers fell into a crumpled heap around his ankles; he stepped out of them and kicked the discard aside. He stood, arms as she had arranged them, hanging loosely at his sides, in his boxers and socks.

 

Jean’s knees folded slowly, all the while, she kept her gaze into his eyes, her hand found the opening of his boxers, found his cock sheathed inside and pulled it out. She had knelt sufficiently enough now, that her face was below his cock, but her stare still held him in thrall. Slowly, as if with infinite care, she opened her mouth and took his head between her lips. His semi-harness was no problem to her; she sucked his length to the back of her mouth, working her tongue on the nerve centre at the base of his head. He thought it was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. The working of her tongue behind his cock head was almost painful in the pleasure it gave him, but the way she had managed to do this without once averting her stare, was a wonderful sight.

 

She withdrew him from the warmth of her mouth, licked around his head with the tip of her tongue and then slipped him back into her mouth to begin a rhythmic motion that took him slightly deeper with each bob of her mouth. She had almost all of him between her red lips; he could feel the back of her throat and tongue, working him deeper. The feeling it evoked in him was almost unbearable, but then she pulled him almost all the way out, then swiftly, sucked him back in until her lips met the base of his cock. He was deeper in her throat than he had ever been with any other woman and all the time, she had kept the eye contact, not even blinking, just a steady, determined examination of his face and the windows to his soul.

 

She worked him in her throat, feeling the girth of his cock expand as blood flowed to the call of his nerve endings. His length was manageable she thought, Jean was intent on swallowing him all the way down, she took it slowly, at her own pace, until she had his pubic hair tickling her nose. His heat and the slight musky sweat smell of his pubis were like an aphrodisiac to her. She did what she had always wanted to; get a man in his entirety into her mouth. Bill always came too quickly for her to be able to do it with him in the time it needed to achieve her goal; this man had a far better self control it seemed. She studied his eyes, watching for any tell tale signs that he was about to come. A corner of her mind noted the pleasure lines around his eyes and delighted in his reactions as she fucked him into her throat. Because she had been able to take it at her own pace, the gag reflex had been overcome, he was now all the way down her throat, that knowledge gave her a thrill that travelled up from her genitals to the top of her head in a wave of delicious pleasure that made her cunt leak it’s lubricants.

 

Frank took her face in one hand and pulled his cock from her mouth, the pleasure she was imparting would have him beyond the point of no return if he allowed her to continue. He cupped her chin as she kissed his head one more time, and lifted her up to a standing position. She continued to search his face with that steady gaze as he bent and lifted her into the crook of his arm. He carried her to the bed in the next room and gently laid her askance so that her feet hung over the side.

 

It was her turn to have him return the favour. Carefully he hooked the waist of her panties with his thumbs and, with her help, removed them to be left on the floor. She was not shaved he discovered, but certainly trimmed, her pubic hair was short, cut into a panty line. He could smell her aroma of lust, a heady concoction exuding from her organs; it served to heighten his need for her body. Frank knelt between her parted legs, supporting them behind the knees and descended towards his object of desire. His tongue flicked out, tasting immediately her readiness, brushing lightly against her hairy labia. She was intoxicating to him; he wanted nothing more than to plunge into her until he was spent, but he also wanted this experience to last for as long as he could, his self-control took over.

 

His tongue tip worked between her lips, adding his saliva to her natural essence, questing for and then finding her clit. Lightly, he teased her nub with just the very tip of his pointed tongue, feeling her shiver and gasp as he increased the pressure and tempo of his attentions. Judging the time to be right, Frank sucked her clit into his mouth, gratified by her hardness, her taste and the sudden screech that issued from her mouth that seemed to be remote from his vantage point. Her knees jerked up, altering his angle somewhat and needing an adjustment from him. Finding the right position, Frank once again sucked her into his mouth, between his teeth and began to flick his tongue tip over the sensitive nub. Jean gasped and shivered her breathing rapid and shallow between clenched teeth. Without thought, her legs opened wider, as far apart as possible to allow him full access. The pleasure his mouth was giving her was electric, all consuming, an endless high that had her panting and coming in wave over wave of delirious, nerve jangling euphoria. The she did something that she had never managed before, the pleasure was so intense, she came in a torrent of amber fluid, coating his face in her warm excretion. She cried out at the total ecstasy of the moment and grasped his head in claw like hands to force him deeper into her cunt. He ignored her condition, just continued to punish her clit until she shuddered a second time, forcing him to swallow her come or let it dribble to soak his knees.

 

Jean could hardly breathe; the effort of automotive response and the intensity of her orgasm confused her brain into making mistakes. Sensing her predicament, Frank withdrew from her clit, but only far enough to then bury his tongue into her wanting cunt. Slowly, he worked it building into a regular rhythm that allowed her to calm, before taking her to another, but different orgasm. The stimulation was quite different from that of her clit, but no less pleasurable. Fairly shortly, the pressure of another devastating climax built in her abdomen until it over spilled with a third flush of her come.

 

She was in no condition to continue for the moment and needed to rest. Frank lay beside her on the bed, crooking her head on his elbow, running his free hand over her breasts, marvelling at the hardness of her nipples and the smoothness of her alabaster like skin. He kissed her mouth and ran his tongue over her parted lips. They were dry from the incessant gasping of their sex. Wordlessly, Frank extricated himself from under her head, got up from the bed and fetched a glass of water from the mini-bar. He offered the glass to Jean who took it gratefully and gulped a mouthful then licked her lips.

 

He clambered back onto the bed as she reached across to put the glass on the side table. Her back was turned to him; he noticed the freckles across her shoulders, the muscles under her taught skin. He traced a finger over the humps of her backbone and watched the shiver it produced. He pushed her gently a little more so that she was lying completely on her side. He caressed her back, his hands travelling over her smooth, cool skin to her hips, then back to the nape of her neck. Unhurriedly, he shuffled across the bed so that his cock rested in the cleft of her buttocks. His arm slipped under her neck while his other hand reached around and found her nipples. His hardness restored, Frank slipped his cock between her buttocks as she bent at the waist to fit against him in a foetal position.

 

He eased her cheeks apart until his cock was positioned, then with a deliberately slow pelvic thrust; he pushed his cock head into her cunt and was rewarded with a wriggle of her hips to help him. Frank fucked her lying sidewise slowly, while Jean pushed back on him, helping to make his thrusting reach deeper into her body. It was an easy rhythm, comfortable, something they could both keep up without it bringing them too close to orgasm. He stroked her hair, shoulders and back as his cock thrust into her, he marvelled at her beauty, at the smoothness of her flawless skin, at the litheness of her body.

 

Easily, he flipped her over so that, they remained in coitus, she lay with her back on his chest, her legs parted to either side of his. It allowed Frank to explore her stomach, her breasts and then a finger against her clit. At this touch, the comfortable rhythm increased to a wild rut she approached a rapid climax. Frank reached around to find one of her hands. He grasped her left hand and guided it to her soaked sex. Dexterously, he manipulated one of her fingers out and positioned the pad of it on her clit. With little encouragement, Jean rubbed and pinched her self while he continued to tease her nipples and fuck her from behind.

 

In a manner, Jean felt trapped, lying prostrate on top of him with her back on his chest, her legs, uselessly parted on either side of him; impaled on his thrusting cock. Her own fingers teasing her clit, the arm attached trapped by his arm as it encircled her. Her breasts at the mercy of his kneading hands and pinching fingers, her head resting against his cheek; the trapped feeling added to her enjoyment, she was aware of the now, familiar feeling of pressure of another devastating orgasm. She worked her clit harder, rubbing as hard and fast as she dared, all the time, feeling the onrush of her climax.

 

It hit her suddenly, the sudden confounding of nerves, the rush from her body of her come, the inability to control her arms and legs as the totally encompassing feeling washed over her. Her knees drew up to her chest, forcing Frank from her body as a stream of golden come squirted from her body in a parabolic arc to splash on the floor.

 

Jean settled in diminishing shudders while Frank stroked her shoulders. She wanted him to come, she wanted him to complete as she had so many times over the last few hours, and she determined that she would take him to completion in her mouth. Decision made and control of her limbs regained, Jean twisted around, kissed Frank on his lips then wriggled down the bed to engulf his wonderful cock.

 

It was her intention that he would come in her throat as deep as he had been before, but she knew that having him so deep could only be a fairly short thing before the need to breathe took over, so she grasped him in her hand and slowly began to work him. If she could get him close and then swallow him, she might, if she timed it right, get her reward.

 

Jean knelt alongside him, studying his rigid cock as she pumped him in her hand. She hadn’t realised just how big he was perhaps ten inches or so, more than she had thought. Frank moaned; he was getting closer; his cock was rock hard in her hand. Judging the time to be right, Jean bent at the waist and licked the pre-come from his slit. It was slightly salty to taste. Then she parted her lips and sucked his head between her teeth while her hand continued to pump him. She slowly sunk onto his hardness, allowing him to enter her little by little, she formed an ‘O’ with thumb and forefinger so that she could still work him while most of his cock was now in her mouth. Frank mini-thrust, not wanting to drive himself too deeply into her and spoil the magic she was performing. Jean sensed his need, knowing that it was the precursor to his climax, she stopped wanking him, instead; she slipped him from her mouth, then sucked him deep into her, lifted a little then descended to allow more of him to enter her mouth, taking him deeper and deeper. Jean took a deep breath and with only a few more of these mouth fucks, she had him completely down her throat, pleased that she had taken the time to do it at her pace, his cock was twitching violently. Jean fucked him into her throat, his pubic hair rammed against her nose. With a few more bobs of her head, she felt his first spurt of come hit the back of her throat. Now she thought, and buried him all the way into her. His seed spurted in long spasms as she kept him as deep as his length would allow; Frank yelled and screeched as his cock exploded it’s spend into Jean.

 

They lay entwined and slept the sleep of the sated for an hour. Jean woke first, found the shower and cleaned herself of the stink of sex. She felt totally satisfied; felt absolutely no remorse, no guilt, even pleased with her self. She dried and then dressed slowly, touching herself as she did so, relishing the delicious thrill of the memory of what she and Frank had done. Jean had never had such an all-consuming climax before; having several in the same day was just fantastic, beyond belief.

 

Frank woke as Jean emerged from the bathroom.

 

“Thank you Jean; you are a remarkable woman; I can honestly say that was the best I have ever enjoyed.” The sincerity of his words was echoed in his eyes that took her in all over again.

 

“No; thank you Frank. I have never known sex could be like that, have never felt so switched on. It is me who should be thanking you.” She walked over to the bedside and kissed him goodbye.

 

“Goodbye Frank. Thank you.” With that, she picked up her bag and slipped out of the hotel room to return to her life that was going to be very different now. She had a ticket in the windscreen of her car, but it didn’t matter, pretty soon, she would pay her own parking fines.