Chapter 2
Tim Abernathy had just returned to Victory to seek his revenge.
He had grown up in that town, but he had left when he was eighteen. Now he was twenty-eight. In the past ten years, he had learned a lot about women, and he was ready now to use what he had learned for his own benefit.
Tim Abernathy planned to fuck all of those women who had not fucked him years before.
He knew that he had changed and he knew that they had probably changed too.
Now they were lonely, horny housewives, girls who had married just out of high school and who now needed fucking because their husbands were bored with them.
Tim had been a shy kid in high school, almost afraid to speak to a girl.
And he had been laughed at because he was rather small for his age.
But they would not laugh at him now, he decided. He would make sure of that. He would make sure that those girls—women now—would want him. Then he would fuck them and then he would laugh at them because they had waited so long to have that great experience of their life.
Tim Abernathy had become a cocky stud, and he was proud of his ability in bed.
Tim had come back to Victory just a couple of weeks before, and he had immediately gotten a job at the local radio station. He had been a disc jockey in Dallas and in Phoenix, big towns and big markets. Victory was nothing to him, except the place where he would avenge those terrible, lonely nights of his youth.
He had a deep bass voice, the kind of voice that sounded good on the radio.
He had had that bass voice from the time he was fourteen. That was yet another reason that girls had laughed at him and thought him strange. He knew that it probably did sound weird to hear that bass voice coming out of him because he was so small.
When he had lived in Victory as a teen-ager, he had been small and frail too.
But now he was small and muscular. He had built up his body so that it would match his voice, his manly, deep voice, and now he was ready for all those young women of Victory.
He had decided that Nina Cole would be the first one that he would get.
She had been Nina Richardson in high school, a cute girl with nice, firm tits, something of a little whore actually. That is, she had been a whore until Tim had asked her out.
He knew for a fact that she had fucked at least a dozen boys there in that high school, but when he asked her out she actually laughed in his face.
Then she had told all her girlfriends that that little shrimp, Tim Abernathy, had had the nerve to ask her out. She had laughed with her girlfriends and suggested that Tim probably had a little, bitty cock, something so small that she would not have even been able to find it.
Tim had heard her say that to her friends one day at school when he had been listening around the corner from her locker in the hallway.
Her little joke about his cock had been the unkindest cut of all.
Tim knew that he had a big cock, a "cock that even looked a little silly on his frail, skinny body. It was like his bass voice, something manly that he had not really grown into yet. Now that he was muscular and older, his cock looked like it really belonged to him, but it was still big, almost ten inches.
And soon after he had returned to Victory he had seen Nina Cole in a grocery store with a couple of kids squawling behind her. She looked tired and haggard, but she still looked sexy enough to make his anger at her grow in his heart.
And he decided that she would be his first conquest.
He had investigated her life, talked to friends about her and followed her around without her knowing it. He found out that she was married to Ronnie Cole, a kid who had become a truck driver. He was away from home a lot, carrying goods all over the country in his truck. She had married Ronnie soon after high school and she had quickly had those two kids who were both spoiled and dirty. Then she had settled in to the regular life of a horny, American housewife.
Tim Abernathy charted her movements and made a schedule of her everyday activities. She seemed to go to the grocery store a lot so he decided that that would be the place to meet her, to start his seduction of the girl from his past.
He waited around her neighborhood grocery store on most afternoons. He did not work at the radio station until late at night.
And a few days after he had started his vigil, she showed up, looking tired and haggard as usual, but she did not have her kids with her. He was happy to see that.
He hated to seduce a mother when her children were present.
He got out of his car when he saw her walking back to her car and he walked toward her.
He actually ran into her. It was as good a way as any to meet her again.
"Excuse me," he said, and then he looked at her and acted surprised. He studied her as she studied him.
He knew that he probably looked familiar to her. His hair was still dark and his face was still sort of boyish. But she had not known him that well in high school and his body had changed a lot.
"Nina?" he asked, his deep voice questioning her as if he were unsure of his own recollection. "Nina Richardson?"
"Yes," she muttered, staring at him, "and you are—"
Naturally, she had forgotten his name. Naturally, he thought as the anger built inside of him.
"Tim," he told her. "Tim Abernathy."
"Timmy!" she squealed, using that boyish name that used to fit him when he was so frail.
"Just Tim now," he said, correcting her.
"Tim," she said. "You have certainly changed."
"Yeah," he said.
He put his hands in his pockets and thrust his hips out at her. He looked at her in a surly, manly way. He almost snarled the words at her.
"You have not changed at all, Nina," he said.
But she took it as a compliment, and she denied it girlishly.
"Oh, Tim," she said, "I have gotten so old. I don't seem to have the energy that I once had."
She was right. She did look older and she looked more tired than she had ever looked in high school.
"I am married now," she told him. "Are you?"
"No," he said, still manly and surly.
That was one of the things that he had learned about women in the ten years that he had been away from Victory. He had learned that women liked bad boys, men who treated them roughly. If you treated a woman as if you could not give a shit about her, she would lick your fucking boots; that was something that Tim Abernathy knew now, something that he had not known before.
Now that he had met her, he did not want to spend too much time with her. He did not want her to think that he was lusting after her, that he could not live without her.
So he turned and walked away from Nina. She called after him, just as he knew that she would.
"Let's get together and have coffee sometime, Timmy—uh, Tim!"
"Sure," he said. "Sometime, we will."
Then he went on into the grocery store and waited around until she was gone. He came out and got into his car and thought that the first part of his plan had worked like a charm. She had fallen for him hard. She probably did not even know it yet. But she had fallen for him.
He was going to wait about a week and then run into her again, but Nina surprised him when she called the radio station one night when he was working.
"Hey, Nina," he said over the phone, "how-did you know that I was here?"
"Oh," she stammered. "I just happened to turn on the radio and I heard you and I ... "
Tim blocked out her next words. He knew that she was lying. He did not use his real name on the radio, never had.
He was known as Johnny Danger-Boy on the radio.
She had obviously checked around, asked about him and found out that he was the voice on the radio. He turned back to her when he heard her ask a question, but he missed the question.
"Yeah?" he asked. "Sorry. What did you say, Nina?"
"I was wondering, well, uh, if you would like to come over to my house for coffee tomorrow afternoon. I mean, if you aren't busy with something else. We could maybe talk over old times. My husband is a truck driver and he is out on the road and—"
"Sure," he snarled. "Where do you live, Nina?"
It was obvious that she wanted to do more than just talk over old times.
She had not so casually informed him that her husband was out of town.
That was one sign. Tim knew that another sign would be given to him that next afternoon. If she got rid of the kids when he came over, he would know that Nina wanted to fuck him.
"Hello, Tim," she said at the door of her little house, "I sent the kids over to their grandmother's this afternoon so that we would be able to spend some time alone."
Tim grinned at her in a cocky, manly man and walked past her into the house.
Then he turned and looked at her. She had obviously dressed just for the occasion. A woman like Nina did not wear a pair of cut-offs and a blouse with no bra around the house when she was expecting an old friend to drop by, he thought.
Not unless she wanted to fuck that old friend.
He grinned with the knowledge that he had her, and he decided that he would play with her just a little bit before he finally fucked her and started to get his revenge.
"You look pretty good, Nina," he said, "for an old married lady."
She smiled and she actually blushed. Then she stammered out the words.
"Well, how about that coffee? How do you take it, Tim?"
"Black," he growled, liking the way that she remembered now that it was Tim, not Timmy.
He was a real man now and she recognized that.
She scurried into the kitchen like a frightened servant and soon came out with two cups of coffee. Tim was sitting on the couch and she sat down next to him and handed him his cup of coffee.
He sipped on it. It was steaming and black and strong, just the way that a man liked his coffee, he thought.
He stretched out his legs so that Nina could see the bulge in the worn jeans that he wore.
She noticed it, and she looked from that bulge to his eyes. He grinned at her like a man grins at a woman, like a man should look at a woman.
Then he took another sip of his coffee and he spoke to her in his bass voice.
"Tell me, Nina, are you happy with your husband?"
That question shocked the woman a little bit, as he knew that it would. She did not answer him for a little while. Finally, she stammered out something that did not make much sense, and he knew that she knew that it did not make much sense either.
"Well—I guess—I mean—he gave me children—and he is nice."
But the way that she looked at him told him that she was not happy with her husband, that she was horny and lonely and thought that she was growing old before her time there in that small town. That look Tim knew well. Many housewives had looked at him with the same hungry stare, the same kind of confused, nervous tension in their faces.
They did not even want to admit it themselves, but he knew that it was true.
Those women wanted to be fucked by some stud, some stud who really did not give a shit about them. They wanted to be fucked because they were sex objects, because they turned a stud on.
Tim understood that all now, understood exactly what women wanted from their men. And he grinned at her and set his coffee cup down on the little table next to the couch. Then he took her coffee cup out of her trembling hands and set it beside his own. He took control, just the way that he knew women wanted their studs to take control.
It had usually been so long since any man had really controlled them that they were more than pleased to offer up their lusts as some sort of sacrifice, just to prove to themselves that they were still women, just to prove to themselves that they were still sexy and loving and full of life.
Tim stared in Nina's nervous eyes and then he reached out and put his hands on her tits. He massaged those tits through her soft blouse and he was happy to discover that they were still firm and womanly and youthful and sexy.
She did not stop him from massaging her big, sexy tits.
He had known that she would not stop him.
"Tim," she finally stammered, "I have never been unfaithful to Ronnie before in all the years that we have been married. You must understand that, Tim. I have never been unfaithful to my husband before."
He noticed that she used that word, before, and he knew that he would have no trouble with Nina at all. She would be easy revenge for him. But he still had to put up his manly, stud front. He still had to be a bad boy with her. So he snarled at her.
"I don't give a shit about your fucking husband," he said. "I just want to fuck you this afternoon. I want to give you the best fucking of your life this afternoon."
And he continued to massage her breasts as he spoke to her.
He knew that she was intelligent enough to pick up his reference to this afternoon.
That was a clue for her, a clue to his intention to fuck her once and never again.
This was certainly not going to turn into a long-term affair. She was too tired-looking to hold his interest for long, and besides he had a lot of women that he had to get his revenge on here in Victory, a lot of women and so little time.
"All right," Nina murmured, with her eyes wide and almost tearful. "Fuck me. Give me the best fucking of my fucking life this afternoon, Tim."
Then he took his hands off her tits and pulled her close to him and kissed her on the mouth. She seemed to melt in his strong arms and she opened her mouth to his tongue and let him invade her that way. He felt her hand on his bulging crotch and he wondered how long it had been since Nina had given herself up to this kind of passion, this kind of quick lust.
He wondered how long it had been since she had touched her husband's crotch so softly and so lovingly and so filled with yearning.
And then he forgot all about her husband as he pulled his tongue back into his mouth and felt her tongue follow into the manly cavern of his opened mouth. Her tongue was quick and passionate and he liked it. He knew that Nina had had a lot of experience with boys when she was in high school. And he thought that, even though she had never been unfaithful to her husband before, she still had a certain style. She still knew how to please a man.
He wondered just how much she did remember about pleasing a man and he decided to test her. He pulled his mouth away from hers and said it softly, in a manly, almost cruel hiss.
"Suck my cock, Nina. Suck it good."
And the Missouri housewife did not even hesitate. She wanted to suck his cock.
She moved her face down to his lap as he lifted up her blouse and ran his fingers over her bare back. He knew that women liked that. He had learned that in the years that he had been away from Victory. He had learned that one of the most sensitive parts of a woman's body was her bare back. And few men even touched that part of a woman, he thought.
He was happy that he had learned that, happy that he had learned how to please a woman.
As he rubbed her back, Nina slowly, almost playfully opened the zipper on his jeans.
Then she reached in and pulled out his cock. She gasped when she saw the size of it.
Tim almost wanted to remind her of what she had said about his cock so many years before.
He almost wanted to make her eat her words. But then he remembered that that would come later. He remembered that right now he did not want her to eat her words at all. He wanted her to stuff his cock into her soft mouth, not her words of ten years before.
And, when she got over the shock that came to her when she saw the size of his dork, she turned and looked up at him and smiled.
"You have a big one," she said.
"Yeah," he growled, "I know. A lot of women tell me that"
She looked a little hurt when he said that and he figured that that was enough revenge for the time being. He just nodded his head, and she knew what that signal meant. She turned her head and started to work on his cock.
Nina kissed the head of the cock and then ran her tongue down the underside of the shaft. Tim fought to keep from groaning with pleasure, but he thought that she certainly had not lost her touch over her years of marriage. She had probably sucked a lot of cocks in high school and she had sucked her husband's cock too, probably years ago, when their marriage had been new and fresh and they were both excited by each other.
But those times had changed and now she was sucking another man's cock, the cock that belonged to a man from her past, a man that she would not fuck ten years before.
She ran her tongue around the pink head of the penis and then she opened her mouth wide and took the head of the cock into her. She pressed her lips around the stiffening rod and tasted its manly sweetness.
This time, Tim could not stop himself. He groaned out the words.
"That is good, Nina. Suck it. Suck that cock, Nina."
And she did just what he wanted her to do because he was now her manly stud.
She would do anything that he wanted her to do on this afternoon.
She took the cock deep into her mouth, swallowing more than three-fourths of the long, fat shaft and Tim felt the thing stiffen as she used the pressure of her lips to give him pleasure and power. He put his hand on her brown hair and rubbed her head with a force. That was to do two things. One, it would show her that he liked what she was doing, and, two, he thought, he would push her further down on his dork, on his mighty and big rod, the cock that she had denied ten years ago.
He did push her down and she took all of the cock into her throat greedily.
Tim was a little surprised that she could do it without gagging. She must have had a great deal of experience with sex, he thought, experience in high school and experience with her husband. Maybe her husband had a big cock too, but Tim doubted that her husband's cock was as large as his own. If it had been, she would not have gasped when she first saw that rod.
He took his hand off her head and let her work her way up and down on the shaft.
He continued to rub her back with his fingers, to give her that pleasure that most men did not even know about. He heard the slurping sounds that she made as she sucked on his cock, and he was very happy with this, the first stage of his revenge on the women of Victory.
If all of them were as easy as Nina, he thought, he would be able to get all of his sweet revenge and get out of this lousy town within a few months. But he was willing to stay just as long as it took him to fuck all those women who had denied him when he was in high school.
Nina sucked with a grand fashion, tightening and loosening her lips and getting the cock wet and hard and full. When it was erect and ready to fuck she raised up and looked at Tim and smiled.
"You don't have to worry about me," she said, almost girlishly. "My pussy feels like a volcano that is about ready to erupt."
"Good," Tim snarled. "Get your fucking clothes off, Nina."
And the young housewife stood and smiled at him as she opened her blouse and took it off. She stopped there for a second, waiting for him to give her some compliment on her tits.
But he offered her no compliment at all, although he had to admit to himself that her breasts were fine, big and full and sexy. He would not tell her that, however.
He just sat there on the couch and wrapped his fingers around his cock and waited for her to get naked for him. He wanted her naked, and it did not take Nina long to realize that this stud was not going to move from his spot on the couch until she was completely nude.
When she realized that, she nodded her head too and she opened her cut-offs and pushed them down.
She was not wearing panties. She had truly prepared herself for him, Tim thought.
Nina stepped out of her cut-offs gingerly and then stood in front of the man from her past totally naked. She waited for him to give her some sign, to show her that he was pleased with her. He just sat there for a moment and stared at her body. She had one of those full, feminine bodies, a little soft but strong too, excellent for fucking. He knew that he was going to enjoy fucking her, just as those other boys had enjoyed fucking Nina when she was just a high school student. He liked the way that the hair of her dark bush seemed to climb up her lower stomach. A fine line of that hair ran up to her navel.
But he could not show her how much he liked her. He knew that. He had learned that much in the ten years that he had been away, improving himself with women.
Instead of telling her that she was sexy or beautiful, he just stood up carefully.
His cock was still stiff and hung out of his pants like a meaty spear.
Tim pulled off his shirt and he saw Nina shiver when she saw his muscled chest.
She actually sighed a little bit at the size of his body, a body that was not at all like the one that he had had in high school. Tim liked her sigh. It proved to him that he was actually ready for Nina now, ready as he had not been in high school.
He slipped out of his shoes quickly. He had not worn any socks.
And then he opened his jeans and pushed them down. He had not worn any underwear either.
He had come prepared, just as she had prepared for him. He stepped out of his jeans and then moved toward Nina slowly, his cock still pointing straight out at her.
He knew that he probably looked a little menacing as he moved toward her, but he also knew that women liked menacing men, men who seemed to be harmful, men who would do them no good. Those were the kind of men who got the women because they had the power, the power that told each and every female that, down deep, this man did not give a good god-damn about her, that he only wanted to fuck her, and that she had better be good at fucking if she wanted him to remember her at all.
Tim knew all of this and he had worked all of this into his plan for revenge.
He stood in front of her and spread his legs slightly. He did not touch her.
It was her duty to touch him, and they both knew it.
Nina reached out and wrapped her hand around that cock and started to stroke it gently, feeling its power as he stood there just a few inches away from her, naked as she was naked.
And Nina thought that this was much like her fantasy, the one that she had been having regularly over the last few years, since Ronnie had grown tired of fucking her and since she had grown weary of the life of a housewife.
In the past few years, she had remembered with glee the free and wild times of her youth.
She had remembered all the boys that she had fucked back then when she was still young and sexy.
She had been known as a whore then, but she had not cared. She enjoyed being a whore, if it meant that boys came sniffing around her like dogs after a bitch in heat. And she liked feeling cocks in her pussy, feeling them jab her and stroke her and warm her as only a cock could.
She had changed when she had married Ronnie. She had made a conscious effort to be faithful to him. She still saw men on the street' and boys who hung around downtown that she wanted to fuck, that she yearned for as a child yearns for candy. But she had fought off that yearning until this afternoon with this young man who had been in her past in some vague way but who had changed so much that he was really like a new man too.
And then, when her life had settled down and Ronnie had stopped fucking her except for those rare occasions when he felt high and mighty, as he called it, she had started to have that fantasy.
In her fantasy, a man came into the house during the afternoon, a faceless man with a big cock, and he stood next to her and she knew that he wanted to fuck her.
And she could not resist that man. Somehow, although he had no face, she could tell that he was a man from her past, some boy that she had fucked back in those carefree, high school days. But she also knew that this man would be even better than he was in high school.
She had to admit that most of the boys in high school had fumbled a lot at first, that she had had to almost mother them along when it came to fucking. She had not minded it then, but she was older now and she did not want to mother anyone along. She wanted the man to take control, and that faceless man from her past did just that. He took so much control over her that he did not even have to speak to her in her fantasy. He just stood there and she knew that he wanted her to take off her clothes and get ready for the fucking that was going to be great. And she did take off her clothes. She took them off quickly and she touched that man and she discovered that he was naked, completely naked with a cock that was long and hard and ready to go. And then, in her fantasy, she and her faceless man from her past fucked in a mist, a wonderful, soft mist that covered them and shielded them from the cruel, cold world.
She thought about all that then as 'she stroked Tim's cock and she knew that this was probably going to be as close to her fantasy as she would get. She wanted to make it good. She wanted to show Tim that she was willing to do anything he wanted her to do. She opened her mouth and the words came pouring out, words that she did not really intend to say. But, when she said then, she knew that they were the most truthful words that she had uttered in years.
"Master," she said, "do with me what you will. I am your slave."
Even though he was experienced with women now, Tim was a little taken aback by those words of slave-like devotion.
She knew that many women felt that way about him, but no woman had ever come right out and said it before.
He grinned at Nina. He was glad that she had said. It would make everything so much sweeter between them.
And he quickly tried to think of some way that he could show her that he was her master, some order that he could give her that would make her his willing and yearning slave.
Then he came up with that order and he gave her the order in his harsh, bass voice.
"Get down on the floor, Nina," he said. "Get down on the floor and play with yourself. I want to see you play with your own pussy."
Nina took her hand off his cock and moved back and lowered herself onto her living floor. He was not even going to go into the bedroom with her, she thought, and that seemed right to her, for some reason. She did not remember a bedroom with her fantasy man, her faceless man from her past. They had only fucked in mist, and Nina wondered now if a mist was going to cover her as she lay there on the floor, following her master's orders. She would not have minded if it did. She would have liked to have some sort of mist caressing her naked body while she played with herself and showed her master just as much of a slave she really was. •
She lay back on the floor and she opened her legs wide.
Then she moved her fingers slowly down her firm, sexy body.
It did not take long for those fingers to touch the lips of her pink, wet snatch.
"Play with yourself, slave," Tim said, as he knelt on the floor so that he could get a better look at the way that she was playing with herself. "Play with yourself and give me a show that will please me. Show me that cunt and prove to me that your cunt deserves my fine and big cock."
And Nina sighed and did as she was told, just as a good slave should do.
She loved these orders and she loved the way that Tim gave them to her.
She loved that bass voice that boomed out of him, that firm, bass voice of a real and stud-like master.
She moved her fingers over the pink lips of her gash and then she took her feverish, aching, womanly clit between her fingers and started to pull on it. She closed her eyes and started to tremble there on the floor and gave him a good show, playing with herself and sending herself into a paradise of sexual lust.
Tim liked watching the woman's show, the show that was meant only for him.
Again, he grasped his cock and stroked it steadily and slowly.
He wanted to be ready to fuck her when her little show was over.
He had discovered this part of his own lust a few years before, the first time that a woman had played with herself, masturbated in front of him. He had discovered that he liked the way that a woman closed her eyes and went into her own world when she worked on herself. It was as if he was not there at all, except that it was better, because he was there and now he was the man who had commanded her to do this. He was probably there in her mind too, and she was probably thinking about the fucking that he was going to give her as she played with herself that way.
Tim wanted to know for certain what she was thinking about. So he asked her. He ordered her to tell him.
"Tell me, Nina," he snarled as he knelt there and pulled his own plug. "Tell me what you think about when you play with yourself that way. Tell me what you are thinking right now."
"I am thinking," she gasped, as she pulled her clit with her fingers, "I am thinking about the way that big cock of yours is going to feel when it is deep inside me. I am thinking about how good it is going to be to fuck you, Tim."
And then the woman was silent for a moment, gasping with her own desire as she moved her fingers off her clit and jabbed two of her fingers deep into her love-hole.
She worked those fingers around in her cunt with a strong and passionate motion.
She was fucking herself, Tim thought with fever in his own brain.
She was fucking herself and thinking about fucking him. She had put her fingers in her cunt and started to think that those fingers were his big cock.
And then Nina could stand it no longer. The heat in her cunt had become too much for her.
She sighed to the naked man who was so near her, sighed with all the passion in her soul. She sighed to him as she had once sighed to high school boys in order to thrill them.
"Fuck me, Tim. Oh, god, please, fuck me. Fuck my hot cunt with your cock."
When she had said words like those words to high school boys, she had often done in as part of an act, to give them confidence, to let them think that she really could not stand to go through another moment without being stuffed by their cocks.
But it was not act, no lie with Tim. She honestly was yearning for his cock.
She craved his cock as she had never craved any other prick in her whole life.
His cock, she thought, would bring back memories of those care-free, whorish, high school days of her youth, would bring back memories but would be better than any memory that she could possibly conjure up. She knew that Tim would not fumble, would not need any mothering.
A master like Tim Abernathy, she thought quickly, did not need mothering from his whore slave.
"Fuck me!" she cried out as she pulled her fingers from her cunt and opened her pink hole to him and trembled there on the floor. "Fuck me, Master! Fuck your whore slave! Fuck me!"
Whore slave, he thought. It was a good phrase, an excellent phrase.
And, if she thought of herself as a whore slave, he would think of her in that way too and let her know that he had joined her fantasy in that way. It would make it even better for both of them.
"All right, you fucking whore," he snarled, inching closer to her opened, pink pussy on his knees, "all right, you fucking slave. Your master will fuck you with his big cock now."
"Yes," she whimpered, "yes, fuck me. Fuck my whore slave cunt."
She spread her legs wide in her ecstasy, in her fever.
And she opened her cunt as wide as she could get it. She would have ripped that cunt open if she had had to. She would have ripped her whole body open for her master. She was that turned on, that excited by what Tim Abernathy had done for her.
Tim was excited too, and, with his manly excitement burning his body, he slammed his big cock deep into her and filled her up as she had probably never been filled up before, he thought. He smiled when he heard her sigh with a long and loving sound of pleasure, the kind of sigh chat solidified his revenge, he thought.
And then he started to fuck her. He pulled his cock out of her and slammed it deep into her again as she lay there and twisted on the floor. He looked down at the way that his cock was invading her pinkness and he thought of it as a knife, a dagger of sweet and strong revenge. He slammed his dagger deep into her again as Nina cried out to him with sexual passion deep in her throat, making her cry sound like a growl.
"Oh, fuck me, Tim! Fuck my whore slave pussy! It is yours to do with what you will! You are my master! Fuck me, Master, fuck me hard!"
It was all worked out. She had become his slave and she welcomed his slamming, hard cock.
She just twisted there on the floor as he fucked her and she grabbed her own big tits. Tim put his hands under her rounded, firm ass and lifted her up slightly so that he could fuck her more easily. He rammed his cock into her again and again and he gave her just the kind of brutal, sexy treatment that a slave expected of her master.
He worked his big cock up into her wet, soft pussy and he felt that cunt tighten around his cock as if the cunt and the woman wanted to hold him in her forever and ever.
It was the way most cunts reacted to his stuffing, battering cock, Tim thought.
He looked down at the way that Nina massaged her own big tits with passion and he decided to add to her pleasure and her passion with some sexy and cruel words—words that a slave would love to hear her master say.
"You fucking whore," he growled as he went into her again and again. "You slut. You fucked all the boys in high school, didn't you, Nina?"
"Yes," she moaned. "I fucked a lot of boys in high school."
She had admitted it in her slave passion. Tim had not intended it to work out this way but, since he had started it and since she had admitted it, he thought that he might as well complete his revenge on this woman as he fucked her, as he beat the inside of her wet, quivering pussy with his cock.
"You fucked all those boys, but you would not even go out with me, you whore," he snarled. As he remembered it, he became truly angry with her, remembering his reason for returning to Victory.
And she remembered it too. She sighed and tensed her body with shame. She almost threw up as she remembered the way that she had laughed at this young man then, when they were both high school students.
She would not have blamed him if he had pulled out of her and refused to fuck her any longer, refused to fuck her even as she climbed toward her own blistering orgasm.
She would not have blamed him if he had hit her.
She would not have blamed him if he had killed her at that moment.
She had been such a bitch to him those many years ago, and it all came back to her now, came back to her with feverish shame and self-disgust.
"I am sorry, Tim," she whimpered, crying with her shame and the fucking that he was giving her, actually weeping. "I am sorry. I did not know then that—"
And then she paused. She could not think of what she did not know then.
But Tim supplied her with the thing that she had not known. He knew what she had intended to say.
"You did not know then that my cock was so fucking big, did you, Nina? In fact, you joked about me with your friends. You said that I would probably have the smallest cock in town, the kind of cock that you would never even be able to find, you slut. You fucking whore! You did not know then that I could fuck this well, did you?"
"No, Tim," she sobbed, "I did not know it then."
"But you know it now, don't you, you fucking whore?"
"Yes, I know it. Oh, Tim, just fuck me. God, you fuck so well!"
She was about to escape into her fantasy and her fucking feeling again.
Tim knew that and he knew too that he could not allow it.
She was trying to escape her own shame, her own whorish shame now that he had reminded her of the way that she had treated him a decade ago. She was trying to escape her own self-disgust by giving into the fucking that he was giving her now.
He could not allow that because he wanted to have his revenge.
Certainly, he liked the way that she fucked him now, he thought.
But he wanted her to remember that she had refused to even date him ten years ago, that she had actually laughed at him.
He cleared his throat and spit on her big tits. She gasped when he did that, as if his spit were made of fire.
"Tim!" she cried. "Don't hate me! Just fuck me! Don't hate me!"
"I do hate you, bitch," he snarled. "I hate you because you fucking laughed at me. Now you know what you missed. You could have had this ten years ago if you had only gone out with me then."
"I am sorry," she whimpered as the spit moved down her big tit to her throat.
"You fucking slut," he growled. "Fucking whore."
"Yes, yes," she admitted to him as he fucked her roughly with his cock. "I am a whore and a slut and everything bad. Just don't hate me, Tim. I could not stand it if—"
And then she stopped talking as she felt all the heat in her body rush down to her cunt. She tensed her body and cried out to the stud who was fucking her.
"Tim! I am coming, Tim! Oh, god, I am coming!"
As much as he hated her, he could not deny her this, he thought.
He fucked her to her orgasm, pounded her with his cock as she came and came and came. He saw the way that she grabbed at her tits again and heaved her body up with her own ecstasy. Her hand ran through the spit that he had put on her and it did not even seem to notice the sigh of hatred. Her body was sweaty anyway, he thought. Perhaps the sweat was mixing with the spit so well that Nina did not even care about his sign of hate any longer She certainly did not seem to care about his hate now that she was coming.
And seeing her come with such passion broke Tim to the brink of his own, male orgasm.
He growled and pulled his cock out of her and dropped her on the floor and grabbed his cock.
And he came all over the woman who had rejected him years before. He came on her with white globs, globs that were a little bit like the spit that he had put on her.
She accepted his heated come on her body. She accepted his orgasmic fluid.
And she moved her hands over her body and rubbed that come into her flesh as if it were some kind of sweet and powerful lotion that would keep her young forever.
Then, exhausted as much by his rage as by the sex, Tim fell over on the floor and lay there and looked at her. She lay very still on the floor, like some firm, dead woman, like some woman who had been killed by sex and revenge.
He turned onto his back and looked up at the cracked ceiling in the little house.
When he saw that cracked ceiling, he could not really hate Nina any longer.
He realized that her life here in Victory must be hell.
She was married to a truck driver who had tired of her and she had two screaming children who tired her out and she was feeling terribly old even in the middle of her youth. She was too ragged and torn of spirit, he thought, to be hated, even for what she had done so many years before.
And, anyway, he had worked out his revenge on her.
But Tim worried. He thought that, maybe, he was getting soft, that he might not be able to get his revenge on the other women of Victory. He had made a list of them. Nina was just the first of three. He wondered if he would be able to go through with it, if he would really be able to work out his revenge with the other two.
He just had to, he reminded himself. He had returned to Victory with that in mind.
It was his own reason to come back to that small town at all, the only reason that anyone would have to return to that stinking, little town.
He turned his head when he heard Nina move. She was crawling toward him with tears in her eyes. He could see those tears plainly and they made him sad too. He knew that he had caused those tears to come to that woman.
"Do you hate me, Tim?" she sobbed. "Do you really hate me?"
"No, Nina," he said softly, almost lovingly. "I know that I was a different person back then, just a scrawny, little kid. I don't hate you any longer."
"Can I lie next to you then, Tim?" she asked. "I like to lie next to a man for a little while after I fuck him. It makes me feel like I belong, you know."
"Okay," he said. "You can lie next to me, Nina."
She lay on her back very close to him. He could smell the aroma of sex on her.
He put his arm under her neck and they both looked up at the cracked ceiling.
A few seconds later, Nina asked him the question.
"You won't fuck me again, will you, Tim?" she asked.
"No," he said. "I have other things to do. I liked it, though. I liked fucking you, Nina. You are great."
"I never came like that with any other man in my whole life," she admitted in a soft voice. "I want you to know that, Tim. You are the best that I will ever have. I just know that."
Tim just lay on his back and looked at the cracks in the ceiling.
There was something about those cracks that drew his attention, as if those cracks formed some design that would tell him something about his life, as if those cracks were symbols of something.
And then Tim thought of it. The idea came to him like lightning on a spring night.
The cracks were like Nina's life, all cracked and ready to fall apart. Soon the plaster would start to drop from that ceiling, bit by bit, just as her life would start to come apart. It would take a long time. It would be a slow process. But, one day, she would come tumbling down, killed by the small-town terror that Tim felt in her as he held her close.
And the muscled, young man with the bass voice wished that he could something to help this woman from his past.
But there was nothing that he could do. He knew that.
He was not of her life any longer. He was not part of this town.
He had just passed through to fuck her and get his revenge.
But, as he listened to her breathing next to him and looked at the cracks in the ceiling, he wondered why the revenge was not as sweet as he had thought it would be. He wondered if it would be sweet with the other two women that he had to work with, that he had to hurt.
Tim had not given up his dedication to his cause, to his revenge.
It had meant too much to him for too long. He could not give it up.
He would have to carry it through until he finished with the two other women.
He would have to carry it through until he had worked out his revenge even on Donna, the one who had hurt him even worse than the other two.