Donna Allen: Wife in a slave house

She never liked Sunday mornings. On Sunday morning her husband was usually interested in sex.

Angela Prentice lay in bed with her back to Ken. She wasn't certain he was awake yet. She hoped this was one of the days he would sleep until nearly noon. But then she felt him move. He was awake, all right. It was nine o'clock in Sunday morning and she suspected that in a few moments he would start something.

She was right, of course. Ken pressed against her. She could feel his cock pressing against her ass. His arm came over her, his hand moving up to cover one of her tits. He pushed his cock more firmly against her ass. He wanted to fuck.

"Awake, honey? Let's have a little you-know-what."

She could feel the heat of his cock pushing against her ass crack. She hated it. She'd always hated it. It just wasn't her thing. Maybe some women liked, but she didn't.

Now she pretended she was still asleep. Ken kept pressing against her. He whispered at her, his voice still groggy with sleep.

"Come on, baby, wake up and let's fuck," Angela groaned, pretended Ken had awakened her. "What?"

"I said let's fuck."

"Oh Ken."

"Come on, it's Sunday morning."

"I know what day it is."

"Don't you want to?"

"Ken, it's too early."

Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. She had to give it a try. She hoped maybe today it would work and he'd leave her alone.

But Ken persisted. "It's nice in the morning, Angie."

"You know I don't like to do it in the morning."

"You never give it a chance."

"Please, Ken."

"Come on, baby, let me put it in."

He kept insisting. She could hear the mounting irritation in his voice. If she didn't let him fuck her now, he'd be irritable all day long. She hated the feel of his cock pushing at her as. How awful it was that he was so eager to fuck her and she had no interest in it.

Finally she yielded. She knew she had to. She allowed herself to relax and Ken felt it. He played with her cunt from behind. She felt his fingers tickling her cunt lips, pushing between them, probing at her cunt hole. She was dry. She was always dry when he wanted to fuck her. He finally reached for the bottle of lotion on the night-table. She hears him mutter something about the dryness of her cunt. Then she felt his fingers again.

She felt him rubbing the lotion between her cunt lips and inside her cunt hole. As always, she found it repulsive. She hated it. But she said nothing. She lay there waiting for him. Finally he finished greasing her cunt hole and she felt the knob of his cock pushing at her pussy. He groaned as his prick slid inside. He pushed all the way in until his belly was against her ass. "Oh, yeah, that's good. That's a hot pussy, honey. My honey has a hot pussy." He giggled at his language. He started fucking her, the two of them on their sides, her back to Ken, his cock sliding in and out of her cunt from behind.

God, how she hated it. After two years of marriage she still found it awful. She hated the intimacy of it. She hated the feel of his cock in there, the feel of his prick ravishing her body. When they weren't fucking, she was happy with him. She told herself she loved him, but now she felt only hated as his hand squeezed her ass. He was like an animal behind her, grunting and sweating as he fucked her. She was always amazed at how he turned into an animal when he did it. Sex was so messy. Her attitudes towards sex had always been negative. She had no experience with it as a girl. In high school she wouldn't let anyone touch her.

She'd been a virgin when she married Ken. He'd seemed so delighted to pop her cherry. She remembered the bleeding. She remembered how miserable she'd been during their honeymoon. She'd made a show of it, though. For Ken's sake. For the sake of the marriage. A man had to make a show, of it.

Now he was into the fucking. His cock felt like a had pipe in her cunt-channel. He pumped away, his hand gripping her hip, his belly slapping against her asscheeks. He squeezed her ass, then he moved his hand to squeeze tits. She felt degraded by the fucking. All he was doing was using her body. Be fore long he would come and use her cunt like a toilet. It was awful. The bed creaked as he fucked her and she hated that, too. Why couldn't he be decent to her? She hated him when he was like this.

Then finally he was at the finish. As usual, he made noises when he came. He pumped away in her pussy as he emptied his balls. She felt the wetness, the sticky feel of his jism as he pulled his cock out and rolled away.

In a few moments he was sleeping again. He was finished with her. She waited until she was certain he was asleep, and then she slipped off the bed and went to the bathroom.

She closed and locked the bathroom door and then she sat down on the toilet. Ken's jism started leaking out of her pussy. She hated having his slime in her. She let it all leak out and then she mopped her pussy with toilet paper. She felt so used. She told herself she was nothing but a convenient hole for him.

She lingered in the bathroom, but then finally she went back to the bedroom. Now Ken was out of bed and seated near a window. He had his shorts on. He started picking on her immediately.

"You're an iceberg, Angie."

"Ken, we don't need another fight about that."

"You're a fucking iceberg."

"Please don't talk like that."

"But you are."

"And you're like an animal sometimes. Do you think I enjoy that?"

"A cold fish. I never thought you'd be such a cold fish."

It went on and on. He continued berating her. He said that after two years of marriage he expected more from her. Finally he left the bedroom. She heard him put his running suit on. Then he was out of the house to do his jogging. Angela was relieved. She was happy to be alone again.

She went down to the kitchen to have her coffee. She sat there awhile watching a stupid program on TV, then finally she went upstairs to the bathroom. She slipped her robe off, climbed into the shower and turned the water on.

It wasn't long before she responded to the feel other own hands on her body. She always did.

She could feel her pussy twitch as she lathered her tits. Well, go on, she thought. She hated sex with Ken, but not with herself. She wasn't such a cold fish, like he thought. She quivered as she ran the bar of soap between her cunt lips. She was a woman, after all. She had a pussy and it gave her pleasure. Secret pleasure. She put the soap away and she used her hand instead. She started masturbating.

She always liked it when she did it herself. Maybe afterwards she'd feel guilty, but now as she did it she loved it. She knew how to give herself pleasure. She rubbed the shaft of her clit. She liked to drag it out, does it slowly until she was in a frenzy of need. She pushed two fingers inside her cunt hole. Her pussy-lips felt so swollen now.

She amused herself by tickling her asshole, pushing the tip of her finger inside and turning it around. Then back to her cunt. Three fingers now. Stretch the old hole. Well, not really old, she was only twenty-eight. She gave her clit a quick rub, hard rubbing on the tip, and in a moment she groaned as her cunt spasmed.

Just a brief moment of pleasure. She thought of doing it again but she changed her mind. She was already feeling guilty. She always felt ashamed of herself when she used her fingers to get off.

When Ken returned, he apologized for what he'd said. "You're not an iceberg. You're my wife and I love you."

He was affectionate. He took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. She could smell the sweat on him. She felt that now she had the upper hand. She accepted his apology.

But soon his hands were moving over her body, squeezing her ass through her robe when they were in the kitchen. He wanted to fuck again. He kissed her mouth. He made her slip the robe off. He fondled her tits and ass. He wanted to fuck her right there. He wanted to fuck her in the kitchen.