I slid my key into the lock, closed my eyes and took a long deep breath before opening the front door. Jason was in a mood. Jason was always in a mood when he started a new project at work, and I was fed up with it. I was complaining at work today, and one of the women said I needed to refocus his mood. On the way home I came up with a plan to do just that.
When I walked through the door I was hit with the angry sounds of Rage Against The Machine. “Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me,” I mumbled along thinking it was appropriate with what I was getting ready to do.
Jason always swallowed his anger, never allowing anything to ever slip. He showed it in other ways by being passive aggressive towards me. Not this time. I was not going to tip toe around him or suffer his petty childish behavior for another month.
I pushed the kitchen door open, and the smell of deep fried fish engulfed me. I hated fish and Jason damn well knew it. Let my plan begin. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t fry fish in the house anymore,” I snapped even before the kitchen door had a chance to close.
“Hi Kim, it’s nice to see you too,” he said in an overly calm voice.
“Jason, we agreed.”
“No, all you said was don’t do it again. Since I pay half the bills I’m entitled to cook what I want,” he said in that same annoying tone.
I felt my temper rising and knew that this fight was going to be a big one. “Air it out and get the shit out of my kitchen.”
“You air it out.”
“Me? I’ll air it out.” I knew this was crossing a line, but I was tired of it. I picked up his plate of fish and threw it out the back door. “Done. Now clean this mess up.”
Jason stood there visibly counting to ten bottling up the rage that was plain on his face. ‘No, not this time,’
I thought to myself. “Why aren’t you saying anything? I can see it on your face Jason; you want to call me a bitch. Say it.”
Jason took another deep breath and turned his back to me cleaning up his mess.
“Say something, Jason.”
“What do you want me to say, Kim?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“You wanna call me a bitch? Call me a bitch Jason. What are you afraid of?” He still wouldn’t look at me. So I started pushing him on his shoulder. “Tell me to stop pushing you. Tell me to shut the fuck up Jason, call me a bitch, something.”
“Seriously, nothing? God, Jason stand up for yourself for once.” I was getting ready to give up and go upstairs when my husband of three years turned on me.
Jason’s hand went around my neck and pushed me into the refrigerator. “Shut the fuck up!” he roared in my face. “You fucking bitch just shut up for once!”
This was the first time he had ever yelled those words, and I was instantly wet. “You want me to shut up? Then shut me up if you are man enough,” I taunted.
“I will shut you up you bitch,” he growled and his lips slammed onto mine.
He kissed me so hard and with so much rage I tasted blood in my mouth. I couldn’t care less because at that moment he pushed his hard length against my pussy grinding into me.
I jerked my mouth away and taunted him further, “You think this is going to shut me up? Fuck you Jason.”
Jason grabbed me by the hair and pulled me to the sink pushing me hard against it. He then pushed my head down bending me at the waist. “Fuck me? Fuck me? You fucking whore, no, I’m going to fuck you.”
With that Jason, undid my jeans with one hand, still holding my head down with the other. I felt the cold air on my ass seconds before I felt the head of his dick pushed between my aching wet lips, hard, fast and rough. Hearing my husband call me a whore made me completely wet and ready for him to take me like that.
Jason had never lost control with me and he had never fucked me like this before and I wanted more. ‘How far can I push him?’
“Get off me Jason, you can’t fuck me like I’m a cheap whore,” I yelled at him my body fighting to get up.
“I can fuck you however I want to fuck you. This pussy is mine; do you fucking hear me whore? I will show you what happens to mouthy whores.” Jason placed one hand on the back of my neck and the other on my shoulder as he pumped his dick harder and harder into my pussy.
I couldn’t pretend not to be enjoying this anymore, “That’s it baby, make me your whore. Fuck my pussy, like I’m your cheap dirty whore.”
“You are my fucking cheap whore,” he said through gritted teeth.
Our breathing was erratic, we were covered in sweat and my juices were running down my thighs. I could think of nothing else, but cumming on my husband’s dick. My body was shaking and I was clawing at the counter trying to find something to grip as I started to cum.
“Fuck me Jason!” I cried out as I slammed back into him.
“Take my cum you fucking whore,” Jason growled out as he bit my back and pinned me to the sink. I felt his dick pulsing inside me.
“Feeling better?” I moaned.
“Yes. You started this on purpose?” he managed to ask between breaths.
“Yep, and I look forward to being your whore again real soon.”
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