Robert Mills - Slut wife

Melissa cringed. She considered dog-style fucking so animalistic that she didn't want to do it. It was ridiculous and degrading to get down on her hands and knees and have a cock thrust into her cunt from the rear. Fucking dog-fashion might not make her come, then what would she do? But her duty was to Mr. Durant, she reminded herself She had to keep Mr. Durant happy so she would receive her one thousand dollars and Martin would never be told how she had earned it. She had to permit Durant to fuck her dog-fashion.

She settled down on the floor, placing her knees on the coarse rug and waited patiently for Durant to enter her pussy. She could hear him grunting and making noises which sounded more animal than human.

She sensed him kneeling behind her, holding his cock level as he aimed it at her curd. He moved in, preparing to thrust the shaft into the waiting lips of her pussy. She could feel his body brushing her thighs as he guided his prick into her hair-fringed cunt. A hardness brushed the cheeks of her ass, then she felt the bulbous knob of his cock as he shoved it into the tender flesh of her pussy.

She told herself she would pay no attention to what he was doing. She would think of something else and if there was pain, she would force her mind to overlook it and soon it would be over.

But there was no pain; only the soft pressure of his cock thrusting in and out between her leg. She could feel his hands grasping her hips and the slap-slap of his groin against her ass as his prick pumped in and out of her cunt. It was massaging the tender nub of her clitoris and the combination of fucking and massaging was bringing alive nerves that had been quiet for a long time. She was beginning to like this kind of fucking and found herself pushing back against him.

"It's wonderful," she panted. "So wonderful, wonderful."

"You have a very nice cunt," Durant whispered from behind her. "After I fuck you like this, you'll never want it any other way again.

She butted back against him, forcing her ass against his balls. "Oh God!" she blurted. "My cunt is begging for more. Give me more!"

Durant didn't answer and she could hear him breathing heavily each time he thrust forward to push his stiff cock into her cunt. He was grunting as if his actions were taking more energy than he had anticipated.

Melissa's head was almost on the floor, her tits dragging against the rug as she lowered herself on her arms, raising the angle of her cunt, making it an easier target for his ramming cock.

"Give me more!" she pleaded. "It's so wonderful. Fuck me hard! Make me feel it!"

Durant was beginning to gasp. His amorous desires had grown stronger than his physical ability to accomplish them. He was becoming tired.

Melissa was beyond caring.

"Don't slow down," she begged. "Fuck me faster!"

Durant was unable to respond. He couldn't speak. He was pushing and pulling as rapidly as possible. His muscles were becoming tired.

Melissa shook her head back and forth, agonizing in the sheer ecstasy of what was happening to her. "More, more!" she cried. "Push your cock into me. Oohhh! Oohhh!"

She wiggled her ass, pushing back against his slapping groin, searching for more feeling.

"Oh Jesus," she moaned. "My cunt is burning up. Fuck me more, please. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

Her urging had no effect. Durant was becoming fired and he was slowing down.

Melissa began rocking forward, taking the pressure off Durant, then slapping back against him. Her rocking took the place of Durant's thrusts and the pleasure began to increase. She felt her nerves respond to the added stimulation. It moved from her asshole, through her womb, back to the mouth of her cunt. She was burning with passion and begging for more action, all the while rocking forward and backward on Durant's wet prick. It felt very very good.

Then she felt it. The pain that was sheer enjoyment. Her insides erupted and the hot cum flowed down the lips of her cunt, wetting his thrusting prick. She stopped rocking, her nerves became quiet, and she felt a strong desire to sleep. To just lie down and never get up again.

Her mind was numb but not numb enough to cloud the strong voice which shrilled in her ear. It was a man's voice and it was uttering words she didn't like.

"Melissa, you little bitch! So this is how you spend your lime when I'm not around! Well, I'll be God damned! Letting every creep in the country fuck your cunt! What the hell are you doing, Melissa? Holding a fuckathon?"

She tried to get up but couldn't. A heavy body was draped over her back and she could still feel Durant's prick in her cunt. She could feel him wiggling, as if attempting to get that last inch, that last bit of action before his cock shriveled.

The voice sounded closer now and it was saying things she didn't want to hear.

"You can go to hell, you dirty little slut. Give your cunt to any fucking stud who wants to use it. I don't want any part of you!"

Durant was bellowing behind her and she suddenly realized that she was no longer coupled to him. His voice was shouting orders, calling names, demanding that something be done to shut up the intruder.

He was waving in all directions at once. "Monty! Get this idiot out of here! What the hell is he doing here?"

There was the thump of heavy feet moving rapidly across the padded floor, then scuffling bodies and obscenities as men shouted at each other. Then another voice, Martin's, ordering someone to leave him alone.

"I'm taking my wife out of here!" he shouted. "You bastards can't stop me!"

A firm hand grasped her arm and she could feel something being wrapped about her body, covering up her nakedness. Then she was being led away from the lighted room and the grotesque naked bodies that inhabited it. She was sick. Martin had discovered what she was doing, was taking her away, and he would hate her for it. She had spoiled everything.

Now he would divorce her and she would die because she loved him so much.

She felt the cool breeze brushing her cheek as they walked across the hard surface of the club parking lot, then she was in a car and it was moving along through the night. She sank back against the seat, closed her eyes and that was the last she knew of Friday evening.

Melissa came awake slowly, increasingly aware of the dull ache behind her eyes. When she moved, twinges of pain erupted around her buttocks. She felt as if she had been given a severe spanking.

She stared at the ceiling, contemplating her discomfort and relishing the notion of going back to sleep. Then she remembered. It was Saturday morning and Martin would want breakfast early so he could get to work on his boat. She turned over, and she realized she was in bed alone.

Martin must have gotten up early, leaving her to sleep because he would know she was tired after last night.

Quick tears welled into her eyes and she held back a sob as the full realization of what had happened came back to her. He knew all about the party and that meant he had seen her fucking Durant, possibly had even watched her suck his cock.

God what a mess! Martin would hate her for what she had done and would leave her. Fucking had become so much a part of her desires that she was worried that she might not be able to stop. She had heard of girls who were called nymphomaniacs because of their desire for cocks and their willingness to accept any prick. That was what she had become-a common whore and she hated herself for it.

She buried her head in the pillows and began to cry softly.

At ten o'clock, she dragged herself from the bed, put on a robe to cover her nakedness and shuffled out to the kitchen. She forced herself to eat breakfast, not because she was hungry but because she needed something to do.