Viola James - Honeymoon traders

In spite of herself, Verna found her mind returning to some of her boyfriends she'd known and been intimate with… to the vision of spreading her legs to them and the feel of their blood-rigid penises sawing mercilessly into her smoothly responding cunt. Had she liked it? Yes… yes, she had. She had enough to achieve her own climax, to cum in blinding, crashing waves and to cry out her own fulfillment and send their flood of milky semen deep into her belly…

"Well?" Carl asked, flinging the bottle from him in frustration. "I asked you a question, bitch!"

"Oh Lord, Carl, honey, don't torture me this way!"

"You did like it, didn't you?"

"Yes!" she blurted. "Yes, yes!"

"You fuckin' whore!"

"Yes! I'm a whore!" The words were like a whip to her brain, a well-deserved verbal chastisement, and she felt the masochistic need to hear more. "Yes, I'm a slut, a tramp!"

She sobbed uncontrollably against his chest now, but he refused to touch her. "You act like you're proud of the fact," he said.

"Noooooo," she walled miserably. "No, I'm not proud. I love you, and I've hurt you deeply, but… but this all happened before we met, Carl, believe me, before we met. I didn't know… How could I know it would make this difference?"

"It's the idea you let a man fuck you at all that hurts, Verna," he said contemptuously, and goaded with righteous indignation, he added: "And so I wasn't good enough for you last night. Me, who hasn't been around and cracked my nuts on other girls, I couldn't please you last night, could I?"

"No, Carl, no… I love you, I want only you…"

"I was a reject!"

Her fingers were kneading the front of his T-shirt spasmodically now, and Verna felt a curious tingling sensation beginning in the pit of her stomach. "You were fine, you were wonderful, Carl…"

"Don't lie to me!" he barked scornfully.

"You… you're everything I want in a man, Carl!"

"Oh, you like to ma-masturbate better than fucking, is that it? Your finger instead of my cock, right?"

"No! No, it… it happens that way sometimes, that's all, honey. You set me on fire last night, made me ready to crawl the walls with passion!" The tingling was spreading, inflaming her loins, and she knew it was the beginning of intense arousal. For some perverted reason, her husband's derisiveness was having a sexual effect on her body. She was being slowly consumed with lust, with a desire for Carl, for his flesh, for his… his cock inside of her. I want him to fuck me, she thought suddenly. I'm a whore, aren't I, nothing but a whore, and that's what whores want, isn't it? To be fucked… fucked… fucked…!

"It was our first time, Carl," she said, faltering. "A… a couple learns together, from each other, about each other's needs and moods and delights…" Her hand began to make tiny circular motions on his stomach, rubbing gently, teasingly, dipping lower until it was just about to the waistband of his bermuda shorts. "I've had other men, it's true. But no man like you, Carl, and we'll be wonderful together, you'll see. We'll learn from each other, if you'll give me – give us – the chance…"

He wanted to throw her away as he had the wine bottle. He didn't want another thing to do with her… but he was unable to take his eyes off her provocative lushness as she squirmed her thinly clad body eagerly against him. Involuntarily, his penis gave a tentative spasm against his undershorts, and his testicles contracted with a lewd spark of arousal.

God, if he only didn't love her so much! Oh, how he'd like to give in to his physical cravings right this minute, sweep her in his arms and kiss her and tell her yes, he'd forgive and forget. She was so damnably desirable, so… so damned hot! He moistened his lips, already mentally kissing her soft-coral lips, caressing her vibrating white breasts and tweaking the dark-rimmed nipples he could almost see…

Carl's excited cock lurched with new hunger and strained for release against his pants. He sucked in his breath, trying to stiffen his resolve and reaffirm his anger, and banish the lecherous thoughts which were betraying his mind… but in spite of his best intentions, his hardened penis remained throbbing and blood-swollen. He looked down at Verna's wandering hand, remembering how she'd touched his cock the night before and wondering if his fury and wrath were making her attempt the same thing again. He couldn't comprehend what was happening to either of them now; couldn't understand at all.

"What… what the hell do you think you're up to, Verna?"

"Carl…" she moaned soulfully. "Oh God, Carl, I… I want you so badly!"

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"I want you to… to fuck me! Fuck me right here and now!"

"What?" he said again, not believing his ears. "Here? Out here in the open like a couple of… of rutting animals?"

"Yes! Oh Carl, yes!"

Her hand moved to the waistband of his bermudas now, sliding under it and the elastic top of his shorts. She could feel the wiry bristles of his pubic hair, and the touch of him sent ripples of desire coursing through her veins. Her hand dipped still lower, contacting the head of his erection, and she ran her fingernail over it tantalizingly. Blood pounded through Carl's loins, causing his cock to tremble with its hardness and palpitate achingly under her probing caress. Jesus! She was stark staring mad! This was a hundred times more sinful and debauched than before, where at least they'd been in the privacy of their own cabin! His brain reeled, her fingers on him like broiling hot irons, inflaming his genitals until arousal consumed his desire to resist…

His eyes flew guiltily around the small clearing, afraid that her abandoned gropings would be seen. But nobody was around… they were alone, as alone as if they were in bed…

"Carl," his bride mewled pleadingly, completely caught up in her excitement, knowing that she was awakening her husband's love for her. It was as her twin brother had prophesied – that by being more blatantly prurient than she'd been before, she was awakening both Carl and herself to a passion which even she hadn't realized existed until now! She had to have him! "Carl… Carl, don't you want to fuck me…?"

"Holy Jesus!" he gasped. His hips began to squirm and rotate on the blanket from her lewd ministrations under his shorts, and he was breathing as if he'd run the hundred-yard dash in record time. "I… I can't believe this!"

"Don't you, Carl? Don't you…?"

Verna's nimble hands continued to caress his rigid shaft, sliding down across his swelling testicles as she ground her soft, brassiere-less breasts against his T-shirted chest. Her other hand was beginning to dexterously unsnap the front of his bermudas, widening the zippered fly so she could clasp his aching penis more firmly. Her lips were parted and she kept running her pink tongue wetly back and forth across them; her breath was fervid and sweet against his face, her eyes lidded with her own sensual appetites.

Carl knew he should pull away from her, end this impossible scene before it reached the point of no return. But the prurient pleasure of her expert manipulations rendered him frozen, incapable of motion. She's crazy! he thought with gathering panic. I married a nymphomaniac! Playing with a man's penis right out in the open this way! Has she no shame…?

"Tell me you do, Carl… Tell me you want to fuck me before I explode!"

"I can't!" he groaned, shaking his head with confusion. "This is sinful, this is wrong! You're a slut, a whore, you've slept with dozens of other men…"

"No, Carl, you're the one who's wrong," the unhappy brunette blurted out from the pressure of her needs. "You've been raised to think sex is fundamentally dirty and degrading, and it's not! It's fun and natural, and a nice way of getting closer to somebody else!"