Simon Jillson: Driven To Depravity

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Simon Jillson Driven To Depravity
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    Driven To Depravity
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    Эротика, Секс / на английском языке
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Simon Jillson

Driven To Depravity

Chapter 1

Judy Penncroft lay on her back, savoring the soft, silent morning. The weight of Mark, her husband, pressed the double bed mattress down beside her, rolling her slightly towards him. She thought of that pressure and warmth being missing, of the bed being empty, and winced at the gut-twisting stab of pain this thought brought.

Resolutely, she forced her mind away from the dread possibility that was rapidly becoming a certainty. Instead she told herself to be glad that Mark was sleeping quietly for a change. Sometimes, more and more rarely, there was the perfect combination of circumstances needed to give him total peace. Either physical or mental agony almost always kept him twisting and turning restlessly in a sweaty tangle of sheets.

Or, what was even worse, he would lie there rigid, his muscles knotted and straining as he wrestled silently with his torment.

As Judy slipped silently out of bed, twinges of pain reminded her of one of the reasons for Mark's tranquil sleep. The bruised ache in her shoulders was mute evidence of the power of his grasp on her the night before. In her crotch, on the insides of her thighs and her pubic hair, was a dry, tugging, crusty feeling.

In the shower, Judy felt the mild bruises, the stiffness, the dried semen all dissolving away. It was a sad feeling. Flinching away from that train of thought, she recalled how it had all begun.


As she passed Mark's chair with the last coffee cup, his arm snaked out, grasped her around the waist and hauled her down on his lap, squealing and giggling. The cup and saucer went flying and bouncing across the floor in a clattering testimony to their durability.

"Mark!" Judy protested.

With a growl of mock ferocity, Mark gripped the sides of her pretty face, twisting her head, his fingers tugging through her short black hair. His lips met hers in a savage, primitive kiss. His tongue drove between her lips, wedging her teeth open.

Even as she felt her passion boiling upward, Judy pushed defensively against her husband. Her hand slipped down his arm and touched the bandages and the hard plastic tubes jutting from his flesh. She jerked her hand away as if she had been burned.

She felt Mark's grip on her change, felt his tongue retreat from her mouth, felt his muscles go rigid. Desperately, before he could escape, Judy forced her tongue to follow his, to drive into his strong mouth.

Twisting her torso, she ground her small, firm breasts against his hard chest. Her petite body writhed in his lap in a primitive dance of desire as she rekindled his faded passions.

The quivering tautness of his muscles changed slowly into the soft but more demanding grasp of sexual need, and Judy's desperation relaxed and became genuine lust. With her arms engulfing his head and neck, she snuggled herself deeper in his arms as their mouths worked and mingled in a sucking, devouring kiss. His hand slid from her back around her side, stroking the sweeping curve of her rib cage, then cupping and molding to one of her gentle breasts.

Heat built in Judy, sweeping through her. She responded to the warm grasp on her breast by pushing against it, arching her spine and twisting. Her bare legs twined sensuously as the crotch of her shorts bunched up against her pussy. Under her firm bottom she could feel the sturdy lump of Mark's cock hardening and thrusting at her eagerly.

Releasing her breast, Mark hooked his arm under her legs. With an easy heave, he lifted her and stood up, spinning her giddily as he headed for the bedroom. As always, the display of masculine power thrilled Judy. She clung to Mark's sturdy neck, her head on his shoulder as he carried her down the short hall to their bedroom.

Mark slammed the door behind him with an easy kick of one foot, carried her to the bed, and dropped her from three feet up. Breathless from the suddenness of it all, Judy bounced wildly once, then lay still. She was boiling inside, burning up with sexual need. But all she could do was lie there on her back, waiting for him, her arms out to her sides, one leg bent gracefully.

As she lay there, she studied Mark as he stripped off his clothes.

Resolutely, carefully, she refused to look at the plastic shunts set deeply in the veins of his left arm. Instead she focused her eyes on the powerful flex of the muscles in his chest, the powerful column of his neck, the hot avid interest in his dark brown eyes. She ignored the fact that his torso had lost much of its strength and firmness, that the muscles were slowly and inevitably losing their tone under the ceaseless assault of the disease.

Fortunately, his cock had lost none of its impatient, powerful thrust.

Judy's jaw knotted at the sight of his sturdy phallus. It swayed heavily, the base buried in a thick, curling mat of pubic hair. The purple head was swollen with need, and the column supporting it pulsed and swelled visibly.

The sight of her husband's cock, so ready to penetrate her, made Judy lick her lips in excitement. She wanted to move, to get her body stripped and exposed and ready for him, but her muscles were only capable of quivering, so great was her need. Still lying on her back, all she could do was put all her energy into the desperate pleading in her eyes.

She whimpered softly with ecstasy as her nude lover bent over her, his strong experienced fingers opening the buttons of her blouse with deft skill. Slowly, worshipfully, he unbuttoned her blouse from top to bottom, exposing a central stripe of her trim torso. Then he lifted her with one hand on the back of her neck and stripped away her blouse as easily as if he were undressing a baby. Then he let her gently back down on the bed.

His eyes swept from her face, with its sprinkling of freckles across nose and cheeks, down to the pale mounds of her breasts. Her nipples, small and pink, jutted up sharply, demandingly. The muscles in her flat stomach rippled and shivered eagerly.

There was no shaking or trembling in Mark's hands as he reached for the snap, and fly front, of her shorts. She felt her pants loosen, felt cool air touch her bare skin. When his hands gripped her shorts, she lifted her hips clear of the bed.

Mark paused. His heart was hammering as he studied Judy's nearly nude body. Her skin was golden tan where the sun had touched her, pale white where it hadn't. The tops of her breasts were sprinkled with a delicate pattern of freckles that made the paleness of her unexposed flesh seem even whiter. The white raciness of her bikini panties glowed against the even tan of her flat tummy and gracefully slender thighs. Through the flimsy white fabric Mark could see the dark, exciting shadow of her pubic triangle. Reaching down, he hooked his fingers into the elastic of her panties.

Judy lifted her hips again, and felt the elastic of her underpants cut into the firm flesh of her ass. She felt her panties sliding downward, felt cool air caress her more and more intimately. Then Mark was whipping the panties down and off her legs and she was kicking her feet free of them.

She was naked. She posed – arched her back gently, sucked her stomach in. One leg was bent, the other straight, doing nothing to conceal her sex.

"Dear God!" Mark whispered as he lowered himself onto her. His hands gripped her shoulders with desperate urgent, bruising need.

Judy felt his weight come down on her and let the wind blast from her lungs with relief and satisfaction. Twisting her head so her mouth met his, she clutched at him with the same desperation with which he was holding her. Bare skin slid against bare skin with a hot, satiny softness that was broken and emphasized by the scratch of harsh body hair.

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