Chapter 2

Margaret turned off the shower and threw her thickest towel around her body. When she padded back into the bedroom, Mitch had awakened. She went past the bed pretending not to see him. At the window she let the towel fall far enough to expose the graceful curve of her ass. For thirty-nine, Margaret knew she had a superb body. It was long and white and unblemished WIth fat or creases. Well, there were a few. A stretch mark or two from having carried their children. She'd been so young when Mitch had impregnated her that first time. It was strange having a daughter only eighteen years younger than she was. Betty was more like a contemporary than an offspring. Lee was still just a kid though. She'd drawn the line after her second child. She hadn't wanted to see her body used up for childbearing. As if Mitch gave a damn. All he wanted to do was pump her full of cream. And he knew she couldn't use the pill.

She turned suddenly and saw him close his eyes. Yes, he was looking at her. She liked being wanted. She loved sex, too. But there had been a void between her and her husband. It was his attitude as much as anything. His feeling that she was his for the taking. Anytime, anywhere almost. Mitch had even tried to talk her into a quick lay in one of the changing booths at the boutique. The boutique another rift between them. Margaret loved her little store. The rustle of fresh, new dresses. The happy smiles of young girls adorning themselves in the bright cheery booths to step out and twirl before the mirrors. Mitch hated the place. He saw It only as a tax write-off, a folly that entertained his bored wife. If only he knew what really bored her!

She thought of their last fuck as she sauntered back across the room. She stopped by the dresser and dug for a fresh pair of panties. She heard a rustling in the bed, knew that Mitch was looking at her white ass cheeks. She pinched them in instinctively. The last fuck had been much like the ones before. Mitch was the kind of man who could not restrain his passions. She was the weak partner in his fantasies, the one to be abducted or forced or raped. Yes, raped. It was the first time she'd thought of it like that. But that was exactly what Mitch really craved. He wanted to overpower the woman. He wanted to shove her full of his cock and then spurt quickly while she still squirmed in fear and shock. Margaret had not reached orgasm with her husband in more than three years. Oddly enough, she thought of him as a desirable, sexy man. But his idea of how a woman should behave while under a man's body was archaic.

"Hey, you look good today," Mitch said suddenly. Margaret had been about to step into her panties. She paused, turned to look at him. He was on his back, the sheet thrown away from his nakedness. He had an enormous erection. And though Margaret had tried to remain aloof to his charms, she felt the familiar surge of blood between the lips of her pussy. She felt the tingle of want deep inside her hungry body. Why did she keep wanting him. He was such a god damned lousy lover. For a month she'd resisted letting him even so much as touch her. Because she knew that it would only lead to frustration and anger and tears. There was nothing worse than almost coming. And Mitch was an expert at doing that to her. He seemed almost to sense when she was about to scream in utter ecstasy. And then he'd grunt and grab her viciously and grind out his own hot semen.

"Marge," he whispered, licking his lips, "don't you think it's about time you got a little action?"

"Who from?" she said, trying hard to keep her voice even. "l sure don't get much from you."

"You're the one who has been holding out."

"I get tired of letting you fill me with cream. It's like playing Russian roulette."

"Aw, come on, I wore a rubber last time." Margaret started to put her panties on again.

"You took it off, though, remember? You said it cut down on the sensation too much." She hated him for that selfish streak. Always thinking about his own pleasure.

"You must be pretty horny by now," he said again. His hand went to his crotch and Margaret gasped as she watched him stroke his cock. It bulged with blood, the head swollen and dark. Mitch had an absolutely lovely cock. It was close to eight inches long and as thick as a bat across the head. She'd had it in every orifice of her body and knew the wonderful pounding heat of it. As long as it lasted, anyway. She was trying to put on her panties. But she couldn't keep her eyes off that thing.

"Mitch, I think you're a pervert." She hoped that the words would close it all off, make him mad, break the mood. But even as she said them, she felt her passion rise. Was she willing to let him rut against her again? Was she willing to let him fuck her just so she could climb tantalizingly close to climax and then lose it, fall spinning into a gloomy depression which would last the day?

"You love perverts," he smiled, stroking his cock more. It was absolutely huge now! She licked her lips. Mitch grinned broadly. "Come on over here and get it baby," he dared. Margaret gave him a defeated look.

"Mitch, damn it."

"You want this thing sliding up between your thighs. Look at you. You're about to drool." He quickened the movement of his fingers up and down his shaft. Yes, Margaret thought, that's it. Get yourself so hot that you'll pop as soon as you stick it in. That's just lovely. Just wonderful.

"Mitch," she said again, "could I do it my way this time?" She was surprised she'd even bothered to ask. Mitch was stubborn when it came to sex. He was pretty unimaginative too.

"What do you mean?"

"Can I be on top?"

"I don't know. What's so great about being on top?"

"You seem to think it's pretty great. That's always where you ways are."

Mitch quit playing with himself. He put his hands behind his head and gave her a look that said she was a little weird.

"Okay baby, have a ball." Margaret didn't want him to see how her hands were trembling as she climbed onto the bed. The juice had started to flow from her pussy now. God was she hot! It was streaking down the inside of one thigh she was so eager to have that prick pushed inside her. She smoothed her palms over her husband's thighs and belly. Yes, he was a beast but she loved his maleness. Loved it abstractly. He was a machine that had the potential of bringing her great pleasure. She was probably a fool for hoping that he ever would. But then maybe this would be that time. Like before they married, when she came whenever Mitch fucked her tight pussy.

"Just let me," she breathed, holding his shaft firmly between her thumb and first finger. She straddled him and leaned down to let her firm breasts dangle against his chest. The slick noise of her labia opening made her shiver. Mitch put his hands on her shoulders and began to rub her slowly. She squatted more, let her stretched pussy ease back against the head of his cock. It was feverish with blood and she guided it up and down her crevice, covering it with her juice. The lips inside were parted now, her hole tightening and loosening with hungry spasms. She was so tired of that damned vibrator. This was a real cock in her hand now. Mitch's cock. Her husband's cock. She felt the slip of the head as it went in past the circle of muscles that controlled her opening. Her lips parted with excitement.

"Ohhhhhhhhh."

"Damn you're hot," Mitch sighed, his cock jumping as her soft insides surrounded it. She stopped, wanting to enjoy it slowly, wanting to draw the pleasure out. Mitch grabbed her ass and tried to force himself up and in. He wanted it all at once. Damn him! Why couldn't he let her enjoy herself for once?

"Mitch, let me."

"God, baby, you've been holding out on me so long." He dug his fingers into the soft meat of her bottom and fucked upwards from the bed.

Margaret pulled up, trying to keep only the head of his prick inside. She succeeded only partly. He was so strong, so eager to have her his way.

"Uhhhh, Mitch!"

"Margaret, roll over baby. Let me get you good!"

"NOOOoo!"

"Come on, I want to really give you a good fucking."

"Mitch, please." She straddled her knees wider to keep him from rolling her over. Her pussy was flooding juice now.

She could feel the smears wetting the rest of Mitch's shaft even though he hadn't had it really inside her yet. His cocktip swelled and throbbed in the grasp of her hot hole. She wanted to feel it going in inch by lovely inch. She didn't want to be raped.

She kissed her husband's chest, wanting him to enjoy what she was doing. She found a nipple and edged her teeth around it. Mitch closed his eyes and moaned. His cock thumped harder in her smoldering hole. She wiggled her curvy hips and sank down another inch. The sound of her clasping lips around his shaft made her whimper with lust.

Her clit had bulged from its hood. She let her little finger stray down through the dark curls of her pubes to rub the hot nub of joy. Her insides closed around Mitch's big cock and she gave a jerky plunge with her hips, skewering herself another inch and then another. It was wonderful! It was going to do just what she wanted. It was going to make her come. A screaming, furious come that would bring that longed-for satisfaction at last.

"Damn, Margaret, go faster. I can't take that teasing."

"Oh, it does feel good to you doesn't it darling?" She kissed his mouth, his chin, his cheek.

"Sure, but Jesus!"

"Be patient. Can't I take my time this once?"

"Margaret!" He clutched frantically at her ass and drove the rest of his thick cock into her body. It went in with a wet smack of penetration. She wiggled, caught on the spear as Mitch thrust, holding her down on himself. The rub of her clit against his body felt good. She concentrated on that pinpoint of itchy pleasure and tried to enlarge it. Yes, she was feeling the tingling throb of something deep inside. Her body glowed with passion. Her nipples were darker even than they usually were. Her dark hair swayed over Mitch's face as she closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip.

"Whuuuuuhhhh! Mitch!"

"Damn you," he grunted, trying to throw her over onto her back. She resisted, knowing that if she could only just catch it, she'd explode into cries of ecstasy. If she could only catch that darting, tickling pleasure that was tantalizing her flushed pussy!

But she was too weak now to fight her husband and cling to that spark of excitement that burned around the base of her clit. She felt him roll her over, felt him shove her legs wide. Then he grabbed her wrists and bent them back over her head savagely. His big cock went so deep that the mouth of her womb ached with a sudden sharpness.

Margaret cried out, felt the tingle of joy slipping away as her husband thrust brutally into her hot wound. He couldn't have fucked her more than four times when he gave a growl and bit the flesh of her shoulder like a starving wolf.

"Ohhh, Mitch. Uhhhhhhh! Ghhhuuuhhhh! Mitch! I'm so close!"

"Baby, baby," he groaned, his fingers hurting her flesh. She struggled, tried to get her arms loose. It was futile. She was the one on the bottom. The raped victim whose pleasure came second to her abductor. Already she felt the remaining bit of pleasure slipping from her grasp. Her clit was still tight and hot but seemed to hang in a limbo of tortured timelessness. And Mitch was coming. She could feel the surges through the base of his cock as his frothing cream filled her. It wasn't the most dangerous time of the month but it was dangerous enough. Margaret felt like crying. She was helpless to do anything about it now.

"Ohhh, yeah, baby!" He held her in his animal arms and fucked his cream into her pussy until she wanted to scream. Why did that final moment of pleasure always escape her. When Mitch was on top she wanted to sob with frustration. He changed whenever he rolled her over. He was horrible now, rutting her like she was just a hole he owned for his own pleasure.

"If you're through would you please get up?" she said voice trembling. She didn't want to cry, didn't want him to know how hurt she felt. Hell he wouldn't care anyway. He knew all along how she felt. He enjoyed it. Because she couldn't find pleasure only increased his own. She hated the lousy sonofabitch.

Mitch was on his knees now, his big cock dripping shimmering strings of jizz. She felt the stuff ooze from her pussy to wet the sheet. He gave her a glance and strode from the room quickly. She heard the water running in the bath, heard him humming. Margaret wondered about the women who carried little pistols. Pearl-handled pistols. She wondered if she would ever have the nerve to point one of those pretty little things at her husband and pull the trigger. It made her feel good just to imagine it. Though she knew she wasn't really a murderess. She wiped the tears from her eyes and swung her legs off the bed. She went to the closed door of the bathroom.