Michael Jaeggers - Honeymoon hotel

Now, with long hard unending thrusts, he began to batter her quivering buttocks. He gasped like a man who had run the thousand-metre race. She was being skewered like a wounded carcass, split right down the middle. And she didn't care. She didn't care! She became aware of a velvet feeling throughout the pit of her stomach. Once again she thought: Could it be? Could it really be?

"Eeee… aaahhh…" He was making noises like a rusty door creaking open.

"Ahhh… ahhhh," she returned, attempting to say, "deeper, deeper, harder, harder," but unable to put the words into speech. She was astonished, hopeful… pleased.

Her head was tossing back and forth uncontrollably now as the two bodies moved like suddenly insane puppets released from their master's strings.

He murmured incoherently as his hands finally let go of her thighs, and she felt his fingernails cruelly bite into the folds of skin in front of her hipbones as he sought new purchase. It hurt her. It hurt her! And she wanted to be hurt!

Then she felt the one last mighty thrust which drove the swollen rod up to the furthest point it had been; she made her muscles up there grab hold of it and milk it. The prick spurted, then began twitching as he came deep, deep in the rectum, giving her a love enema. He cried out, and his strangled voice was the thing that triggered her own explosion… it was a different feeling than before… much different, deeper, a different set of muscles, nerves, and bones crying out their happy defiance to normality. "Ahhh… aieeeee!" she screamed, and above her own shouts, she could hear his, "Beautiful… wonderful… aaaahhhh." He smartly whacked at her blushing buttocks with his open hand as though he were encouraging a race horse on to greater effort.

Some time later, as she lay there feeling the velvet and warm satin of her glands and nerves, she seemed to hear the far-off sound of a stranger's voice saying, "You have been dreaming… dreaming. You will awaken tomorrow; it will have been a dream… about your husband. Tomorrow night, you will awaken at the same time and your husband will be your husband. Tonight was only a dream. Repeat please."

Her voice, from beyond the furthermost part of the galaxy, answered, "It was a dream. Tomorrow night I will awaken…"

And once, just before oblivion came to her, she thought she heard the satanic snicker of a triumphant male voice and a pair of hot lips reverently kissing her buttocks.

But, of course, it was all part of the dream… it had to be a dream… and deep in her mind and heart, she knew and felt disappointment that it had been just a dream…

Dick came slowly awake with the sound of dogs barking outside. He cocked one eye and stared up at the ceiling where a filigree of shadows was cast by the sun streaming through the ivy outside the window. He took a deep breath, slowly brought his hand out from beneath the covers, and stared at his watch. Nine o'clock. His prodigious yawn was cut short as he suddenly recalled the dream… about their hosts' wife!

He blinked. Yes, of course, it was a dream. He turned on his side and stared speculatively at the still sleeping Sue. In his dream Nora had been his wife… no, that wasn't right either. It had been Sue be made love to in his dream, only Sue looked like Nora? Was that it?

He smiled secretively. No matter. It was one helluva wet dream. Boy, he'd had women go wild under him before, but nothing like Nora in the dream. She'd fought him like a marlin trying to shake a hook; the hook had been his prick, and he'd let her run, then reeled in, let her run again, and then finally brought her to gaff – panting and gasping. A real prize trophy. Tremendous. Unbelievably tremendous!

The dream had come tenuously. He remembered waking up next to Sue… only it really wasn't Sue, it was Nora. Oh, to hell with it, he thought; what does it matter. The dream was the thing! In the dream he had awakened to find himself stripped and lying next to his nude wife. It was the way he had been awakened that was interesting. His wife had been fondly stroking his cock, crooning over it, admiring its size and beauty.

She had kissed him, and her mouth was all honey and heat and tongue. And she had placed his head against her breast and fed him like a hungry infant. And then she had stroked his cock again and told him she wanted it deep inside her.

His wife had said, "With a cock like yours, I want a real bread and butter fuck, at least the first time. Tomorrow night, you're going to eat it. Tonight, though, you'll just fuck it till I go crazy."

The term had eluded him; he'd never heard it before. "A bread and butter fuck?" he asked.

"Honey," she had explained patiently, "a bread and butter fuck is a straight fuck. You on top of me with my legs wrapped around you – nothing kinky… just plain old fashioned fucking. Bang… bang… oh, glorious bang!"

She bent her legs at the knees, placing her feet right up next to her buttocks. Then she spread herself for him. "Come on in… the water's fine," she crooned, her black eyes aflame with lust, and smiling wickedly through bared teeth. Her cunt was smiling too, its dark hair-lined vaginal lips already moist with its lust. And the clitoris standing like a campanile at the top of the quad.

He entered her with a rush. "Gaaaagghh," she moaned happily as the cock rode up like a nonstop express elevator. His balls slammed in against her asshole, bringing a low groan of pain-delight from his wife. Her legs uncoiled and then her calves were against his buttocks, her heels and toenails were used as spurs. She began grinding her ass into the mattress, making sharp little circular motions that were viciously exciting. He really didn't have much moving to do; she did most of it, arching her back and using her legs on his buttocks as though she were hanging from gymnastic rings. She was the master of the moment; she was the director, star, manager, boss. His hot penile shaft drove into the target, and with each new thrust, her open pussy became juicier – the bullseye hotter. His wife was lying there – taking it all… breathing heavily through nostrils that expanded and contracted like the diaphragm on an underwater breathing apparatus. "Slowly," she commanded, and it was a definite order, not to be disobeyed.

Suddenly there was a shimmering of consciousness, and a strange heat was on him. Always he had tried to be gentle, if possible. He didn't like the queenly attitude of his wife. Now for some sadistic reason he only vaguely understood, he wanted her to know that there was only one boss at a time like this – the male! Actually, he wanted to hear her submit completely and actually plead for mercy. He withdrew his cock until only the head was still buried in the vaginal folds. His wife looked up angrily and said. "Keep going, you fool. I said, 'slowly', not stop."

He grinned down at her, then shoved forward as viciously as he could.

"Aaaa… gaaaaahhh!" she screamed, and he knew he was hurting her – knew he was scraping and rattling like a runaway subway train along each dark bend and curve of her vaginal tunnel. He felt his cock abruptly slap up against the far wall of her uterus. He immediately withdrew it once more and slammed all its seven inch length into the covering hole. "Goddamnit," the woman moaned, "I said take it easy; you're hurting me." Now Dick felt as though he were a human pile driver. He had a massive steel beam which had to be driven through that quivering quicksand into bedrock. He began driving in – without pity – hearing her groan and moan beneath him. Once, their pelvises crashed together so hard that he was sure he had broken something. His prick had grown to astronomical size; it was as if it had a mind of its own – a predatory destroyer rampaging through the warm jungles of her defenseless cunt.