Myles Miles - Tough To Tame

"What are you talking about?" She drew away from him. "After all, I am a married woman."

"Some goddamn husband," Rhodes said loudly. "He's crazy to leave a sexy little girl like you alone out here in this dump with a hot, horny pussy."

"You've been drinking." She laughed in spite of herself. "Or you would not talk to a married lady like this."

"Okay. Your husband is a fine guy and I wish him all the luck. But if you were my wife…" He left the sentence to speak for itself as his eyes flickered across her hugely straining tits, then down to the enticing "vee" of her swelling pussy mound encased beneath her revealingly tight summer shorts.

Claire felt uncomfortably undressed from the obscene looks he was giving her as she walked across the bare tile floor of the hall to the partition separating the modernly furnished living room from the dining room.

He dropped down on the couch. "Look, your husband doesn't give you enough cock to last you through the day, but I will."

"You make it sound so romantic," she said.

"Romance to me is fucking you." He looked comically satisfied with himself.

"That's all over. All of it," she said firmly.

"You've got no idea how good I can make you feel. When's the last time you got fucked by your husband? The last time he really satisfied you?"

"God, will you please stop!" she said.

"All I care about is you, baby. Jesus Christ, maybe I'd like to have a little something to drink," he said.

"What would you like? Really, all I've got is rum and some brandy. I was so upset earlier that I already fixed a daiquiri for myself."

"For God's sake." He lumbered up from the couch. "You're acting like a virginal teenybopper."

She moved quickly over to the bar, with Lyle Rhodes practically panting down her neck.

"I told you how I felt about what happened in the car." Her hands trembled as she poured a shot glass of rum into a tumbler. It didn't help her any that Lyle sat down on a chair by the bar and watched her as she made the drink.

Lyle Rhodes was strongly built with big bruiser forearms and a thickly muscled neck that bulged and rippled when he got angry, which he appeared to be now. He looked better suited to be a construction worker, rather than an engineer, with his deep desert tan and healthy build. Claire looked at the handsome man now as she set some ice cubes from the ice bucket on the bar top. The way he fucked her visually, practically x-raying through the small halter and her hip-hugging shorts, sent a forbidden tingle of excitement roaring into her denied young belly.

"Sometimes I get the feeling I'm running around in circles," he said. "What is it with you?"

"Nothing." She shuddered and handed him the daiquiri, suddenly wishing she hadn't made him a drink.

"You know what you are?" He held her by the waist. "A little cock-tease. That's what we used to call chicks who played around in college."

"Nonsense," she said.

He grinned. "Okay then, let's drop the subject… temporarily." He watched her as she came out from behind the bar and kept watching the sexy blonde as she sat down gracefully on the Persian rug in front of the coffee table.

"Today's the day you and I were going to finally fuck." He rose and stood to the side of the large picture window. "Let's be blunt about it." He looked directly at the nervous young wife. "You promised you'd fuck me."

"I said nothing of the sort," she said.

Rhodes wheeled around and dropped to the Persian rug beside her. "Christ, Claire. I haven't been able to think about anything but fucking you. You know I'm crazy about you!"

"Stop talking like that." She shivered.

An edge of craziness burst in little lust-sparks through his eyes as he took in the lovely wife's voluptuously curved body in a long heated glance. She turned her face away from him, looking out toward the street. The street was deserted, as it always was this time of the day. The temperature would be well up past the hundred mark and no one who had a choice would be outside.

Lyle Rhodes touched Claire's knee lightly and ran his fingers up the tanned softness of her naked thigh. Tiny goose-bumps rose on her skin, and she tensed, trying to pull her long tapered leg away. But it was useless. His groping fingers dug hard into her trembling thigh, drawing painful welts from its smooth surface.

"God, let me go," she whimpered.

"If it's your husband you're worried about, you might as well forget it," he said with an edge of anger in his voice.

Claire's heart seemed to be beating out of control in her temples.

"Claire, baby, we're alone, for Christ's sake." He lifted his drink with his free hand, drank half of it down, then set it on the teak coffee table between them.

"That's what I'm worried about." The blonde tried again to squirm free.

She looked down at his hand pressed against her shaking leg and a feeling of helplessness rushed through her young body. Her conscience told her to fight against him, but another forbidden emotion made her want his hard cock fucking hard in her cunt. She felt as hot as the air outside, as though she and the rising tides of passion were one with the heat outside.

"My God, it would be all over the compound in an hour if I let you screw me." She looked past him toward the street.

"Shit," Lyle said, moving his hand up from her sleek inner thigh toward the tight leg-band of her short shorts.

Claire leaped to her feet and rushed into the bedroom, with Lyle scrambling up and racing behind.

"For the last fucking time!" He grabbed her and pushed her against the dresser. She fell backward, knocking her perfume bottles onto the floor, then struggled, meaninglessly, to push past him back into the living room.

"Look, you're drunk, why don't you go back to your quarters and sober up?" she reprimanded him.

Rhodes' hands grappling at her arms slid to her quivering titties. "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? What do you want me to do? Tell your old man about how I've been finger fucking you nights when he's home, reading his goddamn geological reports?"

The ominous possibilities of the situation began to dawn on her. She'd foolishly teased this aroused man into expecting her to let him fuck her pussy earlier that week and now, in his drunken state, he meant to really screw her.

"You must be reasonable," she said, leaning back against the dresser. "How can you enjoy it if I don't want you to fuck me?"

"The secret is," he said as he squeezed the ripe fullness of her left tit, "I don't think about it. I figure, sooner or later, you'll come around."

Suddenly she was being lifted up in his strong arms and carried bodily over to the bed where she and Grant slept. She writhed, kicked, and screamed, but resisting him was pointless. She was tossed onto the bed and before she could spring off the mattress, he fell heavily down beside her.

"Lyle, let me go this instant," she cried out as his big firm hands seized her by the shoulders.

Her command irritated him even more. He was too far gone in alcohol and sexual frustration to listen and he wound his fingers into her halter, in one movement ripping away the bra like top to reveal her lushly billowing titties.

Claire managed to break loose and slide from the bed, but he was immediately up after her, backing her against the bedroom closet. The movement had caused the closet door to slide partially open and she grabbed the nearest piece of cloth and pulled the material across her body to hide her nakedly quivering tits. "Lyle, don't you dare!"

The angry engineer's breath came faster as he grabbed her wrist and yanked her slender arm to one side with brutal ease so that her huge quaking tits leaped free and bounced up in front of his face. He half grunted, half growled as he stared at the smoothly billowing mounds. Consistent with the blonde's slightly blushing complexion, her small round nipples were the palest of pink, delicate and finely formed.