I really don’t know what’s got into me, or into either of us. Maybe it’s all the paint fumes driving us a bit crazy, but the last 24 hours, the final phase of our little renovation project has been full of surprises.
It actually all started last night. My husband Tim poured me an unusually large glass of wine almost as soon as Greg had left. Greg is our builder, and he’s been installing a load of fitted storage in our utility room and repainting the kitchen and lounge. The weather was perfect, the house was looking the best it ever has and everything just felt right with the world. Tim was in unusually high spirits and clearly in the mood for letting loose.
We shared a couple of drinks out on the patio, earlier in the evening than usual, where normally he’d be at his computer, or I’d be cleaning maybe. It was serene, with the early summer breeze filling us both with optimism. The redecoration was nearly over, uplifting both our spirits with the refreshment of a bit of novelty and beauty. Maybe some would say that we’ve got a bit boring, but we’re in our early 30s now, and feeling house-proud and happy in our home is not something I’m going to apologise for.
Tim fell quiet as he set his wine glass down, and slowly reached his arms around me and pulled me into an embrace. I had thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he hugged me close and nestled his face into my neck. He’s one of those guys who’s a little hard to predict, his playful moods can go in so many different directions. It’s one of the many things I love about him. I held him tight and felt a rush of happy warmth sweep over me when he kissed my ear and said, “I love our life, Rachel. I’m so happy, and I couldn’t love you more.”
I sighed and sank into him, wrapping my arms tight over his shoulders. “You’re adorable. I love you, Tim. So much.”
He said nothing for a moment, instead holding me tight, and sliding a hand down to squeeze my backside, indulging and enjoying it. He gave a little sighing sound of appreciation.
“You know what I think we should do, Rach?” he asked.
“Tell me,” I answered, unsure of where he would go next, but half expecting him to suggest we head to the bedroom.
“Let’s get drunk.” He laughed, his tone childish and fun. “It’s such a beautiful evening. We’re all alone. Let’s enjoy ourselves.” He laughed as he said it before letting go and stepping away to quickly pour us both another glass.
And so it happened; slowly over the course of an hour or two, we finished the bottle of wine, and opened a bottle of champagne, flirting, chatting, kissing, and generally getting more and more relaxed and loose.
He had put some music on, and thrown his arms around me again, leading me in a silly little slow-dance around the kitchen. I knew he was drunk now, but so was I, and all I could do was giggle like a schoolgirl, full of infatuation and love for my husband. Predictably, things quickly turned a little wilder. Glass by glass, we were getting tipsy and silly now.
Finally, we crashed down together onto the sofa, giggling and laughing like idiots.
“Well, mission accomplished, my love. We… are… drefinitely drunked.” I said, slurring and playing it up a bit for fun. I fell to my back on the sofa, stretching out for him, and pulled at his shoulders to bring him above me, feeling very sexy and turned on.
Tim gave a deep, rolling laugh. “You’re so sexy when you’re drunked,” Tim joked, but then roared, suddenly lifting my top over my breasts and rolling them in his hands. I gave a little shriek of surprise at his brazen move, before relaxing and sighing, enjoying his touch.
“God, I love your tits, Rach. You’re so fucking hot!” He sighed, flicking a tongue over my nipple.
Even that alone was unlike him, unlike us. He never called them my tits, and I liked it.
“Mmm, so are you, babe.” I cooed, threading a hand into his hair, and sliding the other down to squeeze his bare backside. The dial was turning up fast, the tempo rushed by our playful inebriation.
We kissed hard, wrestled and fumbled at each other’s clothes clumsily. Our pulses rose and our kiss grew intense, the two of us groping and playing with each other like horny young lovers. Somehow, we ended up sliding from the sofa to the floor, wrestling on the plush, thick carpet. Eventually, we were free of just enough, and without saying a word, Tim had my knickers hitched to the side as he casually slid inside me.
This alone was new. We had this whole big beautiful house, and I don’t think we had ever had sex anywhere but our bedroom. Not in as long as I could remember anyway.
Suddenly, the moment he was fully inside me and completely out of nowhere, he raised his head up high on his locked-out arms and looked me in the eyes. He froze still a moment to make sure he had my attention before saying in a warm but calm voice, “Rachel, my darling. I’m going to fuck the living daylights out of you.”
It was almost unheard of for Tim to use that word, in that context. It opened my eyes wide in surprise, and normally I would have probably recoiled at such language. But this time, in our current state, it drove me crazy, made my heart flutter and my body buzz with the new rush of it.
At this point, I need to probably own up a little. For a few weeks, I’d been stewing over the memory of a very difficult conversation with my sister, Laura. Long story short, I’d confided in Laura that I’d been having a certain fantasy about cheating on Tim. I thought she would understand, but instead she roasted me. Told me I was lucky to have ever even had a chance with a guy like Tim. She told me that if I was unhappy, it was my fault. I specifically remember her saying, “How can you possibly complain that your husband doesn’t give you what you want, when you’re too much of a fucking prude and a wimp to ask?”
It hurt, and it had stayed with me but I had to accept, she was right. As she carried on, she said she knew I’d never asked Tim to eat my pussy, fuck me from behind, come on my tits… she went on and on saying the most disgusting things, words I had never used in my life. But, of course, she was absolutely spot on. If I was such a prude and a “frigid bitch”, as she’d put it, of course Tim was never going to be able to step up. It was her final remarks that really rang in my ears, “If you’re looking around because you want a better fucking, maybe start by not being too much of a pussy to fuck your husband properly? I guarantee he’ll give you everything you want, if you just stop being a little princess and let him.”
I’d gone away licking my wounds, but as the days have gone on, I’ve been looking for a chance to do something about it.
So, I saw the moment for what it was; a gift, and a chance. And I took it. Oh, I did more than just take it though.
I took his chin in my hand and locked his eyes into mine, flashing a wild, encouraging look. “Go on then, Tim. Fuck me.” I saw his surprise as I flashed my eyebrows and wriggled my hips against him. “Do your worst.” I moaned, my heart beating as I used the brand new words, enjoying their harsher and more carnal sounds.
“Oh, I’m going to fuck you, Rach. I love fucking you.” Tim was suddenly spilling out his words. “You’re an incredible fuck, and I never want to stop fucking your pussy…” he went on and on. I should have been horrified, offended, shouldn’t I? But I wasn’t, I was burning up and loving it. My guard was down, and my inhibitions lifted. I followed his lead and decided to give as good as I got.
“Oh yes, Tim, fuck me. Pound your wife. I want your cock. I want to be fucked so fucking bad.”
His whole face lit up, hearing me talk that way. And he really delivered on his talk too. He slammed his cock into me masterfully. He knew just how to stroke, just where I needed him. When to go easy and when to pick it up.
“Oh fuck, yes, oh, Tim. You’re so fucking good! Fuck me, give me your cock.”
The more I talked, the more I felt him throb inside me. “You’re not leaving here until I’ve screwed your brains out,” he sniggered a bit, but he wasn’t just performing. It was like something had released inside him, inside us both. Something new and unchained.
His hips began to jack and drive at me. “God, I love your pussy, Rachel. I’m gonna fucking pound your pussy until you come so fucking hard.” He was wild, driving my knees wide apart and staring down at my vagina, as he slid in and out of me.
Normally I’d have blushed, turned my face away at the very least but the two of us were wrapped in an alcohol infused, romantic little bubble that somehow carried us both away. We couldn’t stop.
“Oh yes, Tim. Go on. Ohh, I love your cock!” I was moaning and slurring the words, that came out of me hot and liquid. “Fuck my pussy, fuck my mouth… fuck me from behind. Oh, Tim, fuck me any way you want to, every way you can.”
“Wow, Rach, babe, this is so god damn hot… I love hearing you talk like this.” He said, his breath heavy with heat. “And you fucking bet I’m going to fuck you. So. Fucking. Good,” he gave a deep banging thrust with every word, shaking my whole world.
“Yes, Tim! Keep fucking me until we pass out, right here. Greg can wake us up in the morning.”
Tim paused again, suddenly, and looked at me with a new expression all of sudden. One eyebrow raised as if thinking or weighing something up.
"You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he said, a cute, testing grin spreading across his face.
“What?” I asked, trying to look as if I didn’t know exactly what he meant, but in my inebriated and inches-from-orgasm state, simply biting my lip, completely failing.
“Greg. Finding you here, naked, half asleep and horny. You’re into him, aren’t you? You like him, I can tell.”
I was pretty powerless to mount any real defence, or to agree, or really say anything. The words would never have come. Thrusting into me again, he squeezed my nipple and carried on talking. “It’s ok. I don’t mind. I get it. I mean, he’s butch, capable, and good-looking. And he’s in great shape, with all that manual work.”
“Erm, no… What? Don’t, babe.” I babbled, his cock the centre of my world and thoughts. I grabbed his butt and tried to push him to get back on task. Had no idea quite how to deal with this. Why on earth had I brought Greg’s name up?
“Rach, it’s ok. Honestly. Don’t hold back, you can say it.” Tim pushed on, his eyes alive and a smile on his face. “I really don’t mind. You’re a great fuck. I bet he would love to fuck you.”
All I could do was grin, my eyes wide with shock. This was a complete behaviour transplant for Tim.
“He’d find you in the morning, wake you up, naked. He’d put his hands on you, and you’d suck his dick. Then he’d bend you over and fuck you.” He was smiling wide. “It’s really fucking hot, Rach. Don’t worry, I want you to. Say it, if you want to, if you’d fuck him.”
My pussy was flooding, and I was losing it. Of course I wanted to fuck Greg. He was an absolute Adonis. Well built, charming, and so talented with his hands. I’d thought about it countless times, and he was top of the list of people in my head when I’d opened up about it to Laura.
“Yeah, babe. Okay. Keep going.”
“Say it. I want you to. Say you want to fuck him. Say you want him to fill your cunt.”
My eyes bulged in surprise, but my nipples hardened, and my pussy gushed, as Tim used the word he’d never said before, and especially not in bed. So, I did it. Words I would never have imagined myself using came tumbling out of my alcohol-loosened, love-drunk mouth, as I begged my husband to fuck me just the way I wanted Greg to. I don’t even remember exactly what I said but as I rose to a wailing orgasm, I described in crystal-clear detail exactly what I would love to do to Greg’s cock and have it do to me. It was incredibly awakening; it really only required enough courage to say it once. After that, it came easier and easier, and the filth just poured out of me, like rich wine from a decanter.
Tim urged me on, adding his own little suggestions and telling me over and over again how much he loved me, as he fucked me through two huge orgasms, and finally erupted inside me.
---------
The morning was a haze. We hadn’t passed out on the sofa, fortunately. At some point we had moved up to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes, blankets, wine glasses and sofa cushions behind us. Waking up, I fought through the taste of bitterness, the fuzz of my tongue. The arid inside of my mouth was matched by the dry patches on my skin. For a moment I wondered what it was, then smilingly realised had to be where Tim had come on me. I lay back and closed my eyes, revelling in hazy memories of the insane, wonderful evening we’d had. What the fuck got into us?
I felt the remaining ripples of our passion and, eyes closed, relived the crazed wild energy of how Tim had spoken to me, how ardently he had taken me. How he fucked me, I smiled to myself, knowing that I could definitely get used to using that word a bit more.
And then suddenly, it hit me, jolting me awake. Eyes suddenly wide open in the darkness, I remembered. Shit. Had I really said what I feared I had said? I knew it, in the pit of my stomach. I had told my husband how badly I wanted to fuck Greg. I couldn’t remember everything, but I knew I’d let rip, getting caught up in some crazy fantasy of Greg being rough, butch and physical. It all came flooding back. I’d talked about wanting him to come all over my tits, wanting to suck him, and be spanked and manhandled by him. I lay there, half mortified, half gasping and beaming in pride at myself. Until I’d said all those things, I don’t think I would have ever even known how true they were.
I covered my eyes with my hand and groaned, rolling onto my side. At that same moment, Tim groaned too and opened his eyes, looking murkily into mine. “Hey beautiful," he murmured, squeezing my hand.
“Hey you,” I said, a little numb. My body was used, my head was foggy, but my heart was brim-full of love for this guy. And Tim blinked and quietly looked at me for a moment. I knew he was processing all the same memories as me.
“My god. Last night got crazy, babe,” he said softly.
I nodded a little shyly and bit my lip. “Are you ok? Are we ok?” I said, slow and apprehensive.
“Oh, Rach. Of course,” he said, drawing a happy sigh from me as he pulled me close. We didn’t kiss, knowing our breath could probably melt glass, but I nuzzled against his neck and told him I loved him.
“You promise, I’m so worried I’ve hurt you. Hurt us.” I whimpered into his neck, suddenly grimacing slightly at how quickly I had reverted to the meek, shy little woman I was before last night.
“I know, I know, it’s all good, girl. Honestly, you blew me away last night, Rach. It was so… wild. So sexy, and you were so sexy. It felt so good to be so unrestrained, so honest. I mean, seriously, when did we last make love that many times?” I looked him in the eye, with a slightly proud smile. “I mean… when did we last fuck like that?”
I felt the same little tingle go through me as he used the new word we both seemed to have fallen in love with.
“Mmm, true. And you certainly did fuck my brains out, just as promised.” I smiled coy, goofy, but proud. “Still, we said some crazy stuff, babe. I know I did.” I felt him stir against me, both of us warming for each other again. “I mean… the Greg stuff. What must you think of me? You have to know, I was so drunk. That’s not really me. I don’t think.”
“Rach, don’t. Relax. Don’t walk away from it.” He said, stroking my cheek. “I remember. Something about wanting Greg to “fill your cunt like a dirty whore”, and to have him “tie you up and pound you from behind”, I think I recall.”
I clasped my hand over my mouth, reddening, in half-disgust, half silent pride. “No, I didn’t! Did I?”
“…thrown around, pinned down and yelling while he fucks you like a beast, I think your exact words were.” Tim was grinning widely, and I could feel him getting very hard again, letting it press into my thigh. “I know it can’t always be like that, but I loved hearing you talk like that, so don’t start overthinking it now. It was hot as hell!”
Even in my exhausted haze, my face flushed. My thighs shuffled involuntarily, and I felt myself getting wet at his words, and I was about to reach below the sheets and grab him. And suddenly, the doorbell rang. We looked at each other, startled. “Bollocks!” Tim shouted. It was later than we’d realised. “That’s Greg!”
He leapt out of bed and I half watched, through tired, hooded eyes as he tried to pull on the tightest boxer shorts he could to try and suppress his erection. He threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He dashed back, gave me a kiss and ran out of the room, down the stairs. I vaguely heard him let Greg in, and chatter, and a bit of laughter. I covered my face in embarrassment, imagining Greg discovering the mess we had made of the kitchen and lounge. I probably should have, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to follow him down after that. It was all too much to reconcile, between my hangover, my raw pussy, and my shock as this new little reality I was waking up to. Today was the final day of the renovation, so for now my plan was simply to ignore everything and hope it goes away.
I padded to the ensuite, used the bathroom, took a quick shower to freshen up, and got straight back into bed. I needed more sleep, it was the only answer. I left the towel on the pillow, knowing my hair was still wet, flicked off the lamp on the bedside table and welcomed sleep as it willingly took me back.
---
I don’t know how much later it was. I was curled on my side, warm and facing away from the door. Something woke me. It didn’t really break through my consciousness, but the bed moved, the mattress rocking slightly. Hands on my skin, on my waist. Before I could respond, the towel from under my head was placed over my eyes, and it drew me further from sleep. I tried to move my hands up, to take it away, but I felt someone grip my own hands. I think I gave a little gasp but said nothing. I was slowly rolled to my back, my hands were guided up, above my head. Now it was just one big hand holding them, as the other trailed down my arm, slowly.
I tried to calm myself. It was Tim. Of course it was Tim, just fooling around. What in the hell has gotten into him lately though? I giggled a tiny bit, at the tickle as he stroked softly over my armpit and took a breath in to speak to him. He pressed his fingertips to my lips, clearly to silence me. I took it and fell quiet, before puckering my lips and kissing the end of his finger. If he really still wanted to play, I wasn’t going to stop him. He stayed there a moment, and pushed it against my lips, then between my lips, so I opened up and sucked on the tip of his finger a moment, letting my tongue flick at it. Something about it made me wonder; it was a little rough, coarse maybe, although I didn’t recall having sucked on Tim’s fingers recently.
He gave a tiny sigh. Deep and masculine. And then he dragged the cover down, exposing my whole chest, before swirling his finger over the rise of my breast. I felt its moist trail flick over my nipple, swirling around one, then the other. It felt strange, being blind and restrained, guessing how he was looking at me, what he would do. He was soft and teasing but only for a moment before he took my tit fully in his strong, large hand and squeezed it, claiming and feeling its swell and bulge as he groped it. I didn’t hold back the little peep of surprise, and then the soft moan at the ripple that shot through me when he pinched and tugged my nipple.
He leaned in close; I felt breath on my cheek and the flicker of his tongue against my ear. His groan, more like a throaty growl, sent shivers through me. Suddenly he was above me, straddling my middle. His hands were at my wrists, and I felt him binding them together. He reached around to the back of my head, and the towel from beneath my head was tied properly now, guaranteeing my complete blindness. I tried to control my breath and my mind, as I tried to straighten things out in my head. This was so unlike Tim, but then, everything about last night had been completely unlike Tim, and me.
His body slid back over mine, his knee pushing between my thighs and parting them, the bed cover now completely gone and forgotten. His breath was in my ear again as he lowered his body over me. He breathed deeply and noisily. It was a masculine, hungry sound, as if his whole soul was charged with need for me. I was stripped and exposed and as my pussy stirred, I felt the slight aftershocks of how well this man had taken me only a few hours ago. Although, of course, I didn’t know that was the case. Something about his energy, maybe his scent, his breath, it planted a seed of doubt. Is this… Greg? He felt powerful, determined. Even invisible, he was masculine and butch. His tongue flicked my ear, and I longed for him to speak. My heart rate picked up at the thought, slightly panicked, but my body responded, my nipples peaking with a throbbing nervous excitement.
Having fully immobilised me now, his hands rolled down my form. Suddenly my insides were flipping, and my heart was racing at the thought that this could really be him. Greg. He gripped each breast firmly before carrying on lower. Rough and confident, his palms slid over my hips, prising both my thighs out wider. His mouth was there too now. His kisses firm and hungry, his tongue and teeth marking his path as he sank between my hips and pressed his whole tongue, firm and flat over my pussy. I gasped and flexed, opening wider for him. His tongue snaked and worked around my folds, devouring me, like a forbidden sweet fruit.
He reared up, and I felt the invisible weight of his stare, as his fingers explored and claimed my most intimate secret parts. I thought of the things I’d said to Tim. Was this him, playing the part? Or could this really be Greg, running his palms over my inner thighs, and over my pussy? Could my darling Tim possibly have told Greg what I had said? Did I want it to be Greg? I was dying to ask, blurt it out, but the words were swept from my lips as his fingers suddenly clamped to my pussy. Eager and direct, the fingers slid between my lips, digging out my wetness, seeking access.
My body shivered and my brain frazzled, unable to quite figure out this puzzle, lost with the speed it was moving at. I was wet, and his fingers needed almost no effort to begin their congress, slipping in and swirling, shallow at first. I opened my mouth in a gasp, and suddenly felt his weight move again. His fingers stayed inside me, deeper now and swirling, stirring up my whole reality. But his knees were beside me. I felt fingers in my hair and suddenly, a presence at my mouth again. I thought me might finally kiss me. But as the hardness and the large fleshy mass settled there, I knew exactly what was happening. I opened again, willingly, and let my tongue receive his cock.
Simultaneously, his fingers and cock took me, burrowed into me. I was already dripping wet now. Was this Greg’s cock? Did I want it to be Greg’s cock? Was Tim there, aware, or had he gone out? I had no keys to this mystery, nothing I could do except stop it, or surrender, as the thrusts of his cock and his fingers grew more rampant and impulsive. He was using my mouth, dictating and taking what he wanted from me. I tried to examine and test it with my tongue, feeling sure I should be able to know Tim’s cock from any other on earth. He slid it in and out, holding my hair in his fist, and I had to simply make my peace with the fact that I had no idea, and I couldn’t bring myself to really care. The blindfold absolved me from any blame, and the words I’d used the previous night suddenly all felt so true, so alive within me.
His fingers slopped my juices all over my pussy, soaking me and rubbing my clit. He was taming and owning me, like a little play toy. It was the sweetest, craziest thing I’d ever felt. I could move my arms freely, but with my wrists tied to each other, there was little I could have done, and I willingly surrendered to this unexpected man-handling. His cock pushed fully into my mouth now, fucking back and forwards, as I lifted and turned my head, working to accommodate it and take it. I was intoxicated with its scent, its fullness, and the rough, huge, veiny bulk of it. This was exactly how I’d always imagined Greg to be, and secretly wished Tim would be.
Suddenly it pulled out of my mouth, and I gasped. I hadn’t even realised I was working so hard, but suddenly I took big lungfuls of air, my tits rising and straining for his touch again. I felt simultaneously relieved for air but deprived of his cock already, within an instant.
My loss didn’t last long. He was quick to move again, grabbing my hips forcefully and throwing me to the side. He flipped me over like a sausage on a barbecue. As if I was as light as the cuddly bear he’d just won at the carnival, he laid me out on my front. I let out a peeping squeal of surprise, just before he lay down over my back again. My arms were still stretched out above my head, wrists tied. I felt him now, his cock right there, pressing at my opening without needing any guidance. He felt big, imposing and impressive. And I wanted it. I wanted Tim. I wanted Greg. I didn’t know. I couldn’t fight this; I didn’t want to, despite my confusion. He was flattening me to the bed, as one hand roamed under me, and closed on my breast, squeezing it roughly. The other slid up and into my hair again, grabbing a fistful in a rough, dominant move that I suddenly wished Tim would use more often.
And just like that, without a word said, he slid into me. Just the tip at first, slowly finding the angle and testing me. One tiny bit at a time I yielded to him, giving way as he instinctively shifted his hips to the perfect spot. And then, with one slow but full, determined stroke, I fought to stifle my moan as I felt him fill me. My soft fleshy walls parted, stretched, and responded to him. Like a desert flower in the rain, naturally welcoming and taking him in, with a flood of relief and ecstasy. Plunging into me from behind, he drove deep, thoroughly filling me, awakening me, sending the sensation through every cell of my body.
I shouldn’t want this, I told myself. I should have stopped this. This is not like Tim. It is certainly not like me. Tim is always so gentle, so gradual. Tim would always kiss me, work me up slowly, make sure I was ready. And now, I was being fucked, in the truest sense of the word. He was pulling back and pushing into me. Short sharp thrusts, the swollen head of his cock driving me crazy, filling my vision with light. He pinched and pulled at my nipple, his pounding growing faster. Longer strokes, deeper and fuller, he was really fucking me now, his hips slapping against my butt as he ground out inside me. I raised a thigh up and out to the side, letting him in deeper and tighter. He responded by shifting his hips just right, and pummelling me harder, his cock raking over the sensitive flesh of my insides, making my whole body shake and throb. Grabbing the back of my head again in his one strong hand, he bit my shoulder, grunting and breathing into my neck, while he undid me.
If this was Tim, I had never known anything like it from him. So animal, so forceful. Completely in charge. And as if to prove the point, he suddenly pulled out again. I felt hands on me again, strong and forcefully pulling my thigh back down, and then, easy as anything he flipped me over again, driving me around like an inflatable beach toy. In an instant, my ankle was clasped and hoisted up onto his shoulder. My breasts swelled and yearned upwards, as if knowing his intentions, as he clamped a hand to one and his mouth to the other, drawing my breath and my juices from me. And just like that, I felt his length return. This man had one plan, one desperate need. Even blind, I could feel his heat and his desire for me. It made my heart pound and my whole body wanted to burst. His cock threaded easily into my sopping, hungry opening, my insides fluttering and burning with pleasure at his driving, renewed presence. It hit a little different; deeper, closer and fuller. He wasn’t gentle or slow, as he plundered my pussy, taking it as his own.
He knew I needed this, he knew my pleasure and what I needed. I was becoming sure this was Greg now. Greg’s eagerness, his strength. I’d watched him work, cut, sweat and build. I’d felt my breath catch at the ripples of his arms, the impressive shields of his thighs and wondered how it would feel to be between those hands or wrapped around that frame. This had to be it, this had to be him. I was delirious and overpowered as he pounded and used me now, pulling my legs up and wide, his pelvis was grinding on my clit with every deep thrust. I tried to look towards him, desperately willed myself to know, to feel it, to see him. I wanted him to kiss me, to take my mouth again. But his cock swept away thought, plunged out all reason and clarity. I shook, my body bouncing, suddenly loving knowing that I was spread wanton and sprawled before him. Tim had been right, Greg really did want to fuck me. Please let it be him.
He pulled and bit at my breasts. My tits. I knew he would call them that. He kissed and bit at my collarbone, tugging at my nipples with tight lips. It felt like he was losing control as well. Each time I gasped and panted and wordlessly begged for more. Begged for this to be Greg. Like some crazy unexplained gift to me, or a secret stolen moment, I didn’t know. I just needed him to keep fucking me. I was close, just a little more, a little deeper. He seemed to read it, seemed to know just what I craved as he drove in and held, finally pressing his finger to my clit, circling and rolling it.
I yearned to talk to him, just as I had last night. I wanted to goad him on, beg him to fuck me, tell him to own my cunt. Yes, my cunt. That was definitely the word I would use for Greg. Fuck my cunt Greg, with your massive cock. I was ready to break, just when he gave the last heavy, hard biting suck on my tit, almost hoovering the whole thing into his mouth, and it was the end of me. I burst, panting, moaning, bucking and sighing.
He clamped a hand over my mouth, silencing me as best as he could. As if he had sensed every word I wanted to say. My mouth may have been quietened, but my body took over the act as I buckled, quaked and shook on the bed. His hardness still throbbing within me, like the white heart of a fire, filling my entire world. My raw nipples craved his mouth as aftershocks raced through me, a buzz that surely beat the most powerful of drugs. His flattened palm contained my yells, and I wondered; was it the act of a husband fucking his wife with a workman downstairs, or the fearful gesture of a bad man, stealing his chance to screw another man’s wife? I couldn’t know and it drove me crazy but also wild with the reckless debauchery of it.
I slowly settled, my racing heart dropping just enough, my mind finding its way back to the present. And his cock, still there, still massive and insistent. He stroked back and fore, slower and easier, but ever as commanding. He somehow still hadn’t come. That wasn’t unheard of for Tim, but it wasn’t usual either. I was willing to bet everything that this was how Greg would always fuck though; physical and masculine. With everything he had.
Suddenly, he pulled away again. My insides made a squelching sound and my juices spilled out, craving his cock the second it left me. He backed up a little, and I suddenly felt the cold air on me, against my sweaty wet skin and the raw, swollen flesh of my vagina. I knew he was looking, watching. I sensed him close. And just like that, I felt his arms around me, grabbing me now. He pulled me to him and dragged me to the edge of the bed, rolling me over to my front again, and bringing my feet to the ground.
I gasped as I considered what might come next, just as I felt the warm sting of his hand, the ripple of intense sensation that somehow drove straight to my clit as he spanked me. His whole hand, a sharp stinging spank on my backside that I would probably never have agreed to, but deeply loved. It was like the sting of an ice cube, bringing my tired and used body right back to itself.
He grabbed my hair in a fist again, and pulled my head back, before barging inside me once more. Even so soon after my orgasm, my used and tired inner walls clamped and gushed in delight, responding again to him as if this were brand new. It was brutal, powerful and determined. It was exquisite and perfect. He needed this desperately and was seeking his release. His free hand glided up and down my back, reaching around to grab and tug my tit, before stroking back down to spank my butt again.
His cock was swelling further still. I couldn’t believe its potency, its energy, as it hammered into me like a piston. My pussy, my lungs, my breasts, my heart; everything swelled and responded to his fucking, his pounding. I was lost. Transported. I barely even noticed as he reached and untied my hands, until he pulled them down and slid them beneath my body, between my legs. I silently thanked him, my fingers clamping onto the only part of me that wasn’t being handled, at that moment.
It came as a shock to me as I felt the riptide of orgasm returning to pull me under, one last time. This was all so out of the ordinary, this should take so much longer. I didn’t know I was capable of this. Who have I become? And as his cock drove in, varying angles and seeking out the deepest, fullest parts of me. I knew he was close to his own release. Burying deeper, bucking more wildly. I heard his breath, losing control. I bore down and let my fingers fly side to side, round and round over my slick, but tired clitoris, willing him to take me and come for me. With a final slap of my butt cheek and a pull of my hair, he reared up, piled his hips into me, and shook, filling every little part of me, fucking me more profoundly than I’d ever dreamed. He burst, somehow narrowly restrained his cries. He throbbed and exploded, flooding me and pumping my tender insides with his come, and trembling, before falling onto my back, his arms either side of me.
He’d still been silent, still not said a word. His breath shook through me, heavy and heated. I lay there, half on the bed and pinned beneath him, panting, slick and dazed in the unsolved mystery. Deliriously wrecked, used and destroyed. And doubtlessly changed forever. A part of me needed more comfort and tenderness, but I knew I would miss this the second it was over.
I dragged my fingers out from underneath myself, soaked and sticky with an ooze of both our juices. Without thinking, I raised them and licked them. I shut out the thought that even now I still couldnt know who I was tasting. I turned my head and simply waited to see what would happen next. Painfully slowly, millimetre by millimetre, I felt his semi-soft cock slide out of me, as his body peeled itself off mine. My hands were free, but I didn’t move them as he retreated, fully free of me now. I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to, I was so thoroughly fucked. I heard his feet shuffle on the carpet, and the sound of something being picked up. My body still hummed, like a tuning fork resounding after the shock, as his footsteps, then the sound of the door announced his escape.
After a short time, I crawled onto the bed and back under the covers, trying to process it, while also trying desperately not to cheapen it by thought. I smiled to myself as I let the feelings and sensations of him live within me. I tried to commit everything to memory, ensure I’d never lose it. I finally peeled off the towel that covered my eyes and blinked at the bright, dazzling light of the afternoon that snuck past the hastily drawn curtains. And then rapidly, out of nowhere, sleep took me again.
----
Waking up a little later, the light had changed and grown dimmer. I didn’t know the time, but I knew I was stiff, achey. My throat was dry, and as I rolled onto my side, the junction between my legs pulsed and throbbed a little. A sticky leftover residue between my legs instantly greeted me. It was half arousing, half warning. I had certainly taken a thorough fucking.
And as I rolled over fully, there was Tim. Smiling, holding a cup of tea, and a box of paracetamol.
“Wake up, sleepyhead. Someone’s been in bed all day long,” he whispered, with a teasing smile.
“Oh yes, you are my hero,” I sighed at him. “I so need tea right now.”
“I’ll bet you do,” he said with a grin.
I stammered for a moment, unsure what to say. “Have you… where have you been?”
He looked at me with an amused smile, saying nothing.
“I’ve… it’s all so… I’m… have you been…?” I couldn’t work out what to say. There were jumbled-up, confused questions I didn’t know how to form and that I wasn’t sure I dared to know the answer to.
He pressed a finger to my lips and gave a little wink. “Sshh, Rach. It’s all okay, my love.” He fell silent again and simply smiled kindly, disarming me. I sat up, my palms on the bed behind me, bare-breasted and happy.
“Now, I’m guessing you’re hungry. So best you get up maybe,” he said, taking a long slow appreciative glance over my body. “Unless you want me to get in there and fuck you some more,” he said, flicking a fingertip from my chin down to my nipple.
I grinned and almost said yes, still feeling the same response every time he surprised me with his words. He was right, though; I was ravenous.
“Soon, I promise.” And I knew I meant it, regardless of the state of my body, and my vagina.
“So do I, Rach. So do I.” He smiled as he kissed me one last time and headed out of the room with a final cheeky wink.
