Robert Vickers - Tied up wife

As his prick slipped from her asshole, limp and deflated, she wondered how long it would be before the burning went away. Her entire ass was on fire. And it was a fire that couldn't easily be put out.

Especially now that he'd come and lost his boner.

She wondered what she could find that would be long and stiff and not tear her asshole apart when she fucked herself with it.

Diane rocked back in the chair and propped her feet up on a low stool in front of the fireplace.

She was worded about her week-old marriage. She had simply not been getting the kind of sex she needed. There had been ample fucking, so many she'd lost count. But it had taken her a long time to come to grips with the fact that it wasn't the amount of fucking she needed.

It was something else.

And she still didn't know what it was.

She was getting edgy and snapping harshly at Matt as if it were his fault. She was sure it was something wrong inside her, but she wanted to cast off the blame as much as possible. And that hurt her. She simply couldn't figure out what was going wrong.

It wasn't the amount of fucking or sucking, that was for sure. It had to be the type.

But hadn't they tried virtually everything? She'd sucked him off more times than she could remember. And his tongue working all over her pussy was one of the greatest things in the world.

He'd butt-fucked her and she had ended up liking it. Strangely liking it because she hadn't wanted to even get started on something she considered a little bit outrageous. The feelings lingering in her gut after he'd finished had been even nicer than the actual cornholing.

She didn't understand that. And it certainly wasn't any lack with getting all the cock she wanted up her cunt. They weren't locked into a one-position rut. They experimented. Seemingly with every conceivable position, they experimented and loved them all.

If she'd been writing them all down, she would have had an inch-thick sex manual.

Diane was growing more and more listless. She wanted out and there was nowhere she could go. There was no one to whom she could talk about this strange void in life.

The fire grew dimmer and burned down to embers. She watched it glowing a dull red and thought that was exactly the way her life was heading. She was glowing white hot, then the flames died down inside until she burned herself out.

She wasn't any different from the fire.

"Honey, what's for supper? Got anything in mind?" called Matt from the porch outside.

"No. Nothing."

"Hey, what's with you lately? You've been grouchy and snapping at me like I'd done something wrong. We're, supposed to be on our honeymoon. We're supposed to be enjoying this."

"I…"

"You are not. You're so damned surly I can't stand it any longer. Either tell me or shape up."

She felt something perk up inside her. They were arguing, but there was a slightly different tone to it. This wasn't going to be any argument. Not if she could help it. She might even find out what was wrong with her sex.

"It's dead between us, Matt. And I don't know why."

"Dead? You mean the fucking? You're out of your skull."

"No. It's dead and we both know it. I guess I want a divorce. Isn't that rich? After all of one Goddamn week, I want a divorce."

"The hell you say. You're not gonna get one. And my cock is feeling damned neglected right now. You haven't been giving out with the wifely chores lately."

"You mean I haven't been spreading for you for all of an hour. Fuck you, guy. All you think of me is a convenient receptacle for that cock of yours. I'm not a Goddamn thing more."

"And I said, I want to fuck. Let's go."

She leaned back in the chair and ignored him. Maybe he would go away and leave her alone.

But he didn't. Not only didn't he leave her alone, he came over to the chair and grabbed her by the arm hard enough to pull her to the floor. She landed on her knees, the shock taken up by the bearskin rug.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she demanded. But there was a tiny spark glowing inside her. That ember wasn't entirely dead. And why this scene should start fanning it back into life, she didn't know.

"Going to fuck you, that's what the fuck I'm doing."

"Bugger off!"

He hit her. Not hard, but the flat-handed blow smarted. The fingerprints left on her face gleamed an ugly red in the dim light filtering into the room.

She reached up and gingerly touched the spot where he'd slapped her.

"Apologize," she said in a flat monotone.

"The hell I will. I ought to tie you up and fuck the shit out of you, that's what I should do."

The tiny tremor passing through her turned into an earthquake. The man's words were electric. She couldn't believe he'd actually say anything like that. And it excited her more than any of the fucking they'd done in the past week.

"You wouldn't do a thing like that to me. Would you?" The words came out in a curious rush. She didn't want him to tie her up and then rape her. She didn't.

Then why was she so excited at the prospect of it? There was a gnawing sensation deep inside that wasn't going to vanish without cock and lots of it. But not just any prick would do. It had to be prick stuffed up her cunt when she couldn't stop it.

She wanted that cock. Oh, how she wanted every inch of his long, hard cock. But it had to be forced on her.

Such a contradiction. And she couldn't figure out what was happening to her, her. Shivery feelings raced up her spine and made her even more aroused. She was going to be raped!

By her own husband!

"The hell I wouldn't," he snarled, rage on his face. "I've taken about all I can off you, you stupid cunt. You think you're God's gift to men or something. Well, I've had it. I'm fed up with the way you think I'm here to please you and nothing else."

"You don't like being treated as a sex object, huh?" she taunted. She knew what his reaction would be. And she was right.

He slapped her again, the blow ringing in her ears long after the initial pain had begun to fade.

"That's all you're able to do, isn't it? Beat up women."

His powerful hands gripped with impressive force on her upper arms. He easily lifted her off her feet and threw her to the floor. She landed on her rump. The way her ass felt, she was sure she was going to have a monster of a bruise where she'd landed. But it didn't matter to her. Finally, after all this, time, she was seeing some fire in the man.

He was reacting like a man should. No namby-pamby stuff now. He was showing her what he was made of. And she loved it.

"I bet you think the only way a woman can respond is if you tie her up and then fuck her. You said as much. You stupid motherfucker!"

"I'll show you what it's like to wave a real man fucking you. By damn, I'm gonna show you but good!"

She tried to scramble away from him, but he was too quick for her. He moved like lightning to grab her leg and pull her flat onto the floor. She kicked out, but that didn't work, either.

His fingers snared her other leg and he held her perfectly in a double-handed grip that she couldn't kick free from. Her body twisted and thrashed about trying to elude the man. He was simply too strong for her.

"You son of a bitch! Let me go!"

"Hell I will, you bitch."

Fingers looped under the neck of her blouse. With a powerful jerk, he ripped the fabric all the way to her waist. Her tits gleamed whitely in the dull light. He ripped again and her blouse was in tatters blowing wildly around her trim body.

Her snowy tits poked out from the destroyed blouse, the nipples a dull red. She didn't understand what was happening inside her, but the violence was making her nipples become erect and throbbing with lust.

She cried out in pain when he grabbed one of her tits and squeezed with all the strength in his strong hands. The nipple was pulsing hard now.