The apartment was small and dumpy, though not without a few minor charms. It was full of daylight and tidier than she imagined a typical, twenty-something bachelor would normally keep. A woman had put her touch here. More likely a few. Being just a one room efficiency, although larger than most, Bentine felt a strange sense of exposure lying naked on the cheap, foldout bed. Something dug into her back through the thin mattress. It may have been perfectly serviceable for an illicit, matinee fuck, but to actually sleep on such a thing was unthinkable.

“Spread your legs,” Shane said. “Show me that pretty candy.”

Light tremors rippled through her body as she parted her long, firm thighs. Air and sunlight touched the damp petals of her slit as she watched him – watching her back – his young body ripped and fully shaved as he stood at the bed’s edge stroking his cock, his solid shaft already glistening and lacquered with precum. Except for his body, he almost looked like a girl. He was pretty like that. He had a mouth like a girl.

“Touch it,” he said.

“Do you make her do these things for you, too?” she asked, conscious of the bunching up of stiff-tipped breasts between her arms as she slid her hands between her legs. Fingers dug hard into her own, supple thigh flesh, then swept her quivering sexlips. Smearing her own oozing froth. Eyes of a naked taker burning up her scarlet slash.

“Yes,” he said, knee walking onto the bed. “Never a question.”

The weight of his answer clenched her pulse. Sent a fresh rush of fuck syrup oozing over her swollen lips and digging fingers. The heat of his breath rushed her pussy as he leaned down and planted a hungry kiss on her gaping slit. His tongue quickly teased into the mouth of her channel, then drew out and moved slowly upward toward the aching swell of her clit.

He lifted his wet mouth and snickered. “Your pussy is prettier than hers. Wetter. Dirtier. Nastier. Fucking beautiful.”

She opened her mouth to say his sordid self-importance was wholly repulsive, but he slipped a finger inside her sheath and started swiping the flat of his tongue across her distended clit. Strange stutters of sound rose from Bentine’s throat, a mixture of gasping and skeptical laughter.

Then the solemn desperation of her body pulling air…wet, slathering undulations of his meandering tongue, as if he were sculpting the shape of her pussy by licking. Minutes stacking one upon another by whimpering gasps and jolts of her shuddering pulse.

She brought her hands to her unwieldy breasts, fingers slick with moisture as she gripped her mounds, rocked her hips against Shane’s mouth and finger. He slid another finger inside, sweeping and curling while his tongue lashed the lips surrounding them, swiping around her clit and back again.

Her body submitted to every lick and stroke.

“Lather that pussy, you fuck,” she barely hissed, pulling her legs high. He trapped her clit under his lips and gave her a hard, tongue-swirling suck while his fingers curled and pumped. One finger changed course and rolled against her puckered starbud.

She gasped out loud when he touched her quivering knot. His finger was slippery with froth as he massaged the snug ring, then worked it inside to the first knuckle. An encompassing weakness shrouded her body while the power of her body’s need gathered like a brewing storm.

“Do…you do this…to her?”

The reply she didn’t need never came. Shane’s finger pushed, blazing into her ass. His thumb slipped into her pussy and he rocked his hand in a see-saw motion - finger sliding up her ass while the thumb drew back - thumb sliding in while the finger drew back. All the while, his lips enclosed her clit, his tongue endlessly lashing the fiery nub until the first swell of a riptide flashed through her veins.

Do you do like this to her? The question tore through her mind in scattered shards while she clutched at Shane’s head, trying to grasp handfuls of light brown hair while her heels beat on his shoulder blades. Every muscle and cell tensed beyond breaking and went off in a shower of sparks.

When she opened her eyes, he was upright on his haunches, gripping his cock as he gazed at her with burning embers for eyes, lips and chin shining with her slick.

“Do you do her like this?” she finally asked.

He nodded and ground the prodigious head of his cock against her clit with the heel of his hand. Press, grind, release. Press, grind, release. Then he pushed the bulbous dome lower, barely plugging himself into her cream lathered maw.

“But now, because I want you more than I ever wanted her…because you’re hotter, more beautiful, dirtier and nastier…I’m gonna fuck you like I never fucked your daughter.”

Cock head slip-grinding deeper. “You’re…a fuck,” she whimpered.

He laughed. “That’s exactly what I am. That’s all I am. And I’m gonna fuck you like I never fucked that slut your husband keeps on the side.”

She wanted to be full of indignant rage. But she already knew, and now the cock that plundered her husband’s whore was grinding…deep…in…side.

“Fuuuuck…”

He laughed again. Deeper and nastier than before. “And I’m gonna fuck you harder than I fucked your husband.”

He drew his cock back to the tip, grimaced with hot strain and shoved himself hard and deep. Bentine’s body burst into flames around the surge of hard, smoldering cock into her body.

“You…” she gasped. Heart petrified. Every cell of her oozing sheath was on edge. “…nothing but a fuck…”

Something inside her broke off and took refuge in the ether.