J Watson - The unfaithful wife

"I'm very satisfied," she insisted. "Look, can't we talk about this some other time. I really am very busy."

"Are you still trying to get rid of me?"

"Not really," she answered. "You can come back again. But right now I have work to do…"

"I'm not leaving," he said. "I been wondering if your husband gives you enough. You know, a woman's pussy needs to be very oiled."

"Oh God," she said.

"Wouldn't you like to have your pussy oiled by a real cock?"

She knew what she had to do. She wasn't going to make him angry. She remained very still as he walked up to her. His arms went around her waist. He pulled her close against him. She could smell his strong masculine odor. He was so different from Alan. He was a man who worked with his hands and not with his brain like her husband. He had strong muscles and they rippled beneath his thin tee shirt.

"Do you know what I'm going to do?" he asked.

"No," she answered, but she had a good idea.

"I'm going to give you a good fucking," he said.

"Oh God," she said softly.

"We can do it the hard way if you want," he said, as he felt the tension in her body. "I can make you. It might take messing up your face a little and leaving a few bruises on your body. I might have to hurt you."

"Please don't hurt me," she said. "I won't try to stop you. I won't fight."

He stroked her back through the fluffy sweater she was wearing. She was scared to death, but she meant, what she said. She didn't want to fight him. She would let him do what he wanted as long as he didn't hurt her. She was scared of pain.

"I like your attitude," he said. "You're going to be a good girl?"

"Yes," she answered.

"That's fine," he said. "Now show me your bedroom."

She swallowed nervously. She led him through the house and into the bedroom she shared with her husband. He stopped beside her and let his hand cup one of her asscheeks. He could feel the tension coming once more to her body.

"What's the matter, baby?" he asked. "Haven't you ever let anyone play with your ass before?"

"Nobody but my husband," she answered.

"That's a Goddamned waste," he said.

Greg knew he could get into a hell of a lot of trouble for what he was about to do. He had already spent time in jail for rape. That time the girl had fought him, at least for a few minutes. She had quit fighting when he'd gotten his prick into her tight little cunny. She had started begging for it then.

Just the way this one was going to beg for it.

Sure, it was a dangerous game he was playing with this pretty icy blonde. But it was worth the risk. There was nothing as exciting as getting his big pecker into an unwilling pussy. It was nice to feel the woman coming alive for the first time as she felt his thick prick. He loved to feel the tension easing out of their bodies and then the way they started getting hot. He had never fucked a frigid woman. They could never stay frigid once he got his prick in.

This pretty blonde wasn't going to be able to stay that way either. He could tell what was going through her gorgeous head. She would let him, but she couldn't enjoy it. Then she would pick the phone up and call the cops as soon as he left. Only one of his women had ever called the cops. They couldn't press charges remembering how much they had enjoyed it.

He had a feeling Cynthia was going to be one of the hottest pieces he'd ever had. He had the feeling that her husband had never been able to touch her true potential. He knew his big pole was going to bring out the savage in her.

"This is a very nice bedroom," he said.

"Thank you," Cynthia said. She felt like it was a stupid conversation, but she didn't know what else to say. She didn't know how to deal with a rapist. She didn't want to make him angry.

"How often does your husband fuck you?" he asked. "How many times?"

"I don't know," she said.

"Damn it," he said disgustedly. "Answer my questions. You know how many times you fuck. Tell me."

She had made him angry again. She had done just what she didn't want to do. She realized she was going to have to do everything he told her without argument. She was going to have to answer his questions and do what he said. Even those questions that deeply invaded her privacy.

"How many times?" he insisted.

"I guess a couple of times a week," she said.

This really wasn't true. She wondered why she was lying. She realized that lately her husband hadn't even been giving it to her twice a week. She hadn't thought about it before, but a little warning went off in her head. Perhaps her husband was starting to find her unattractive. It did seem like he wasn't as interested in her lately. He had been fucking her more on an average of twice every few weeks.

"A couple of times a week," Greg said disgustedly. "Hell, I give it to Mary more than that many times a day. Your husband must not have any balls."

"That's not true," she said.

"Then you must be a dull piece of ass," Greg said.

She blushed red. She didn't think of herself as dull but perhaps she was. She remembered Greg's wife. That dark haired woman with the huge tits who never kept herself completely covered. She seemed to always be wearing something that showed off her ample tits. More than twice a day.

She wondered if Greg was bragging and then decided he wasn't. He looked like the type of vulgar man who was always wanting sex.

"I bet I can make an interesting lay out of you," Greg said. "Your husband won't know you when he gets home. I'll make a fucking cunt out of you, all light."

"Please just get it over with," she said.

"I'm going to make you scream for joy, baby," he said. "I'm going to make a hot box out of you."

"You can make me do anything," she said, "but you can't make me enjoy it."

Seeing his face turn red Cynthia was afraid that she'd made him mad again. But this time he didn't get angry. He walked over and sat down on her bed. He smiled obscenely. She thought about running down the stairs, but she knew he'd only catch her and hurt her as he promised.

"I'll make you enjoy it," he said. "Now start taking your clothes off."

This was the moment she had feared. She tried not to think about what she was doing as she grasped the bottom of her sweater and peeled it over her head. She wore a plain white bra. There was nothing sexy about it, but a bigger grin came to Greg's face.

"They're not big," he said. "But there are women who have had less. I like them. Take the bra off."

She unclasped the hooks of her bra and shrugged it off her creamy shoulders. For the first time a man other than her husband looked at her naked tits. She'd always felt funny when Alan looked at them. She knew that a wife was suppose to show herself to her husband, but she did it as little as possible.

Now she was standing in the middle of her bedroom – feeling uncomfortably warm as she showed herself to a man who wasn't her husband. She started to hold her hands over her naked breasts but she stopped herself. What was the use? He would only make her move her hands again. There was no use in pretending that she could stop him from going any farther.

"You have a nice pair," he said. "You shouldn't be ashamed of them."

"I'm not," she said.

"Sure you are," he said, "Or why would you keep them covered up all the time? Now take off the jest of your clothes. I want to see your naked body."

There was nothing she could do. She peeled her pants off and stood shaking in nothing but her flimsy white panties.

"Take those off too," he said. "Or do you want me to take them off."

Quickly she peeled the panties down her legs. Her legs had to be the best part about her. She kept them firm and shapely and she was proud of them. He liked them. His eyes ran over her slender form and stopped at her blonde bush.