Chapter 1
"Not tonight, Michael, please," Clover Martin begged her husband. The woman felt his hand drifting down under the sheets seeking out her creamy white thigh. She shuddered a little as his hand found the spot she hadn't wanted him to find.
"Hey, doll, you're already wet for me. That's pussy juice down there!"
"I wanted to surprise you," the dark-haired woman said in a dull voice. She knew her husband wouldn't detect any lack of enthusiasm on her part. He never did. Not that Michael was insensitive most of the time. Only when he got into bed was he totally lacking in any sympathy with the way she felt. He knew what he wanted and he went for it, no matter what she wanted-or didn't want.
"Ummmm, hey, this is great," he said. Clover shuddered again as his hand parted her slender thighs and sent a finger sailing all the way up into her twat.
"Please, Michael," Clover moaned out again. The finger up her damp snatch thrilled her. But she didn't want to fuck tonight. She never wanted to fuck anymore because she knew how it would end. Her husband was a great guy in a lot of ways, but in bed it was always the same. It was like watching instant replays.
They were never any different than the original.
And after five years of marriage, he hadn't done anything different in bed. Not once. He'd roll atop her, stuff his prick in and fuck away until he blasted out his wad into her hungrily clutching cunt. Then he'd roll off her and go to sleep. Clover had reached the point of wanting to scream when she heard him snoring gently. It always meant she was left feeling hornier than hell-and no chance of getting the orgasm she needed to feel like a real woman.
"God, Michael, oh, God, God!" she cried out. His hands wantonly spread her slender legs. He rubbed up and down the insides of her satiny thighs and obscenely exposed her cuntlips to his probing cock. When he rammed forward, she thought she'd lose her mind.
"There!" he cried out. "Safely berthed."
"You're so big in me," moaned out Clover, struggling passionately with her runaway emotions. The way the bed rocked gently, squeaking as the springs compressed, sent his prick even deeper into her pussy. She loved the feeling. But there had to be more to fucking than just this. There just had to be, or it wouldn't be worth the sweat and time and effort.
"Do it again," he urged. "What you were doing with your pussy. I need to feel that cunt of yours smashing real down hard around my prick."
The beautiful young girl tensed and relaxed her cunt walls and felt his steely hard cock jerk in lusty response. He was big. Bigger than she had any right to expect from his behavior out of bed. Michael was an okay sort of guy, but he left a lot to be desired in his approach to life. He wasn't terribly aggressive or ambitious. Still, Clover couldn't afford to be choosy. The hunger in her loins threatened to devour her totally. She'd go mad with lust if she didn't get enough cock to keep her happy and sated sexually.
These spells hit her all the time. She needed a good fucking and Michael seldom delivered. It drove the beautiful young girl out of her mind.
What Clover needed was a take-charge man, one who knew what her needs were and filled them totally. A man like that wouldn't have to be told what to do. A man who knew women-who knew what she loved the most-wouldn't ask her to tighten her cunt so that both of them could get that much more of a thrill out of the fucking.
He would order her. He would command her to do the things he enjoyed and this would give her the pleasure lacking in her humdrum, ordinary life.
Clover sighed and struggled a little more with the impaling spike of Michael's cock inside her pussy. No matter what she did, she'd give the man all the pleasure he could handle. He was a zero in the equation of life. But she needed him and feared leaving him. She'd married him five years before, just out of high school. She'd been young and naive and hadn't realized he was handing her a line when he told her he could fuck all night.
She'd believed him. And since they'd been married, not once had they come close to fucking for an hour, much less all night long.
But Clover needed his cock inside her. Masturbating was a kick and she never failed to get her rocks off doing it, but it wasn't the kind of sexual involvement she wanted. She was a woman who needed a man, a real man.
"Fuck me good, Michael," she sobbed out, her emotions washing over her like the waves of the ocean smashing into the beach. But in spite of the arousal she felt inside, she also knew something was missing. But Michael might-just might-provide it for her this time. Maybe he would take over. Order her around. Maybe even slap her. Maybe this was the difference she needed in their boring fucking.
Maybe.
Clover didn't count on it. She lifted her slender legs on either side of the man's straining body and shoved them out as straight and fast as she could. The impact of her snatch against her husband's crotch sent his prick another inch up into her seething hot cunt. She shuddered under the impact, loving every erotic second of it.
"Fuck me hard. Be brutal!" she sobbed out. "I want you to be as savage as you can. Hurt me, dammit, do something to me!"
He began fucking her with slow, deliberate strokes, just the thing the beautiful young girl didn't want. The motion of the bed under her ass helped arouse her, but what Clover desired most was for her husband to really take command. The dark-haired woman locked her legs behind his back and pulled his crotch into hers.
His cock ground fiercely into her pussy, but it wasn't the same. She was the one doing the work, not him. She wanted to be used, abused, reduced to a quivering blob of protoplasm and then built back up by the power of the man's personality, the promise of his cock. This type of lovemaking was all right for satisfying her physical needs, but it did nothing for the psychological needs begging for fulfillment.
"You're gorgeous," the man said, his fucking movements gradual and tantalizing. He gazed down into the black-haired woman's face. Her pale skin glowed with an inner light. He knew that it would glow even more after he'd finished fucking her. She would burn like an incandescent bulb, the sure sign that the fucking had been the best ever.
He bent forward and applied his mouth to her ample tits. The naked mounds of titflesh bobbed and weaved around on her chest. Her breathing became harsher and more tortured as he explored that tasty cone of tit. His lips moved from the base all the way to the bumpy areola. Her nipple sprang up hard and erect, looking like a cherry-red mushroom sprouting from her boob. It was everything he could do to keep his prick lodged firmly in her pussy.
"Hurt me, Michael. Use me!"
"Hey, cool it," he said, wondering at the strange turn the fucking always took. Tonight Clover was asking to be hurt. Before she'd wanted the lights left on. And before that she'd demanded that they screw in the back yard where just about anyone could see them. "I'm not going to hurt you. You've got nothing to be afraid of."
He was firm, positive with her. Just as he'd not granted her other bizarre sexual wishes, he wasn't about to injure her. She was his wife. He felt nothing but tenderness toward her. Tenderness and a stark lust that made his cock pulse and pound into an even harder spike of pure manmeat.
"I love you," he said earnestly, continuing to suckle at her nipple. The hard nubbin of erectile flesh pulsed eagerly against his tongue. He shoved the nipple down into the softness of the marshmallowy flesh below. The feel of the woman's heart beating fiercely aroused him even more.
"Fuck harder. Rip me apart with your cock. Burn me up inside. Hurt me, damn you, hurt meeeee!"
She came. The orgasm smashed through her and gave momentary release from the world. Clover soared on the wings of ecstasy and then drifted down to the world again. It hadn't changed. Everything remained the same as it had been. Michael's cock still moved sluggishly inside her twat when she needed it to fly, the man's mouth still licked and kissed her boobs when she wanted him biting her, raising blood and making her entire body feel intense pain.
She needed those things. Clover felt that if he punished her perhaps she could get rid of the intense guilt she felt about not really getting off on his fucking.
She needed those things-and she didn't get them.
Clover tried to relax and go with the flow of the fucking. The beautiful young girl knew that Michael wasn't capable of the balling she needed. She closed her eyes and imagined what it would be like to be with a real man.
The feel of the cock inside her twat became more heated. A man hung like a bull elephant would fuck her, tearing her tender cunt apart. He would rape her, shoving his cock into her dry pussy. But she would respond. She would be forced to respond to his brutal overtures. Her cunt juices would begin to flow and her arousal would grow. But she would feel nothing but fear. The man was so large! One false move and he'd rip her apart all the way to her chin.
And the mouth on her tits! It wasn't a kind, tender and loving mouth. It was a mouth filled with inch-long fangs. Those teeth would savage her snowy-white tits and leave ugly red streaks of blood behind. And she would struggle to shove her tit even more fully into his mouth to get the full benefit of that brutal mouthing.
She lifted up on the bed, her chest surging forward. For a heavenly instant, pain ripped into her chest. The man's teeth gouged into her silken white flesh. And the pain exploded in her body like an atomic bomb.
The dark-haired woman came harder than ever before. Her hips ground hard against her husband's crotch, sucking the prick even deeper into her pussy and tightening like a hangman's noose around him.
"God," Michael grunted. "You're gonna break me off inside if you keep doing that. But don't stop. I love it!"
Clover didn't hear him. The blood pounded in her temples. Her ears were filled with nothing but the roar of her own pulse. The blood flushed her face and upper shoulders as another climax stalked her tender young body. When it hit her, she emitted tiny animal sounds.
Michael fucked faster. She tried to make him speed up even more. The feel of another, larger orgasm lurked in the beautiful young girl's loins. She needed that sexual release like a flower needs water.
"More!" she screamed out loud. "Rape me. Use me. Fuck me gooooood!"
This come wasn't the intense one she'd thought it would be. The way Michael fucked her had prevented it. She needed all-out fucking. No holding back. She needed the intense friction of cockhead against cunt wall burning her to a sexual crisp. Clover needed it all and she wasn't getting it.
The woman's fingernails clawed at Michael's back, leaving bloody trails. She hardly knew she did it. But it was a goad to him to fuck even faster. And he did speed up the tempo of the fucking.
The lewd squishing of his prick racing up into excited, steamy hot twat came to her. She felt every single inch of his virile prick filling her. The cuntjuice leaked out around the thick shaft of his cock and dribbled down into the crack of her ass. It tickled and aroused her, but Clover didn't want her arousal coming like this.
Pain.
She needed pain this time to get off in a new and excitingly different way. His cock didn't hurt as it slipped in and out of her sopping pussy. His mouth didn't give her the sweet, savage release of orgasm as he tongued her tits. That tongue raced around in tiny circles, drawing up the red nipple until it throbbed with too much blood inside. But that wasn't pain.
"Bite me! Bite my nipple off!" she shrieked, her body going out of control again. She hunched up to his prick and slammed her cuntlips around his cock so hard she hoped she bruised them. The pain might be enough to get her off later on.
But no such thing happened. The man slowed down the breakneck fucking he had started and corkscrewed gently into her pussy. It aroused her. The feel of his hot and hard flesh against her cunt walls turned her on in a big way. But she knew that she was being robbed. He wasn't giving her what she wanted more than anything else in the world.
His fucking was still the same old tired stuff it had been before. In five years of marriage, he hadn't learned a single new technique, allowed her a single new position. If he couldn't fuck in the missionary position, he wouldn't do it at all.
And Clover hated that.
"Hurt me, hurt me, hurt meee!"
Michael tried to devour her entire jug. His teeth scored the sides of the sloping cone of titflesh, but even this wasn't enough for the aroused dark-haired woman. And it came too late. She shuddered and tried to get the full measure of carnal enjoyment from it and failed.
Clover limply collapsed back to the bed and opened her eyes to stare up at the sweaty, straining man.
The sight of Michael's face told her he still hadn't gotten his rocks off yet. She couldn't have told because of her own arousal. Her body was all that mattered. She felt his long, pulsing cock sink repeatedly into her pussy, but there wasn't any thrill in the fucking now. He had failed her. She was as if she hadn't received a single inch of that fuck stick of his.
Clover decided to get out of this fucking the best she could. She might enjoy a little more of it, but the woman doubted it. The only way to end it gracefully was to get the man off as fast as possible. Like always.
With cold, deliberate planning, the beautiful young girl began tightening the muscles of her belly and cunt. The man grunted.
"Like fucking into a mine shaft-and having the tunnel collapse around you," he puffed. "It's great!"
He pulled out of her pussy with some difficulty. She clutched wildly at his prick with her torturing cunt walls. Clover would've held him inside her fuck tunnel permanently except for the extreme slipperiness of her cunt juices. Michael pulled free with a lewd sucking noise and paused for a moment between her throbbing cuntlips.
"I love you, Clover, I love you more than life itself. Your cunt's just the right size for my cock!"
He drove his prick in again and the woman thought she might be able to recover a small measure of her earlier arousal. She felt his control slipping away from him as his hips took over. The wild, frantic fucking of a man just about to come burned hotly in her twat. His cock surged and roared and pumped into her cunt and made her groan with reluctant pleasure.
"Rape me. Really rape me," she moaned out, trying to recapture the feeling she'd had before. "Hit me. Tie me down, but rape me. Fuck my cunt with your raping cock!"
Clover allowed the motion of the bed to carry her along. It bounced and slapped into her ass and back and shoulders as she passionately writhed about. But the motion was always just a little out of tune with the man's hard-fucking cock. It speeded up until she thought she was going to get-finally-what she'd been begging for all night.
But it didn't turn out that way. Michael slowed down and controlled himself, saying to her, "I want this to last all night long, if possible. I don't ever want to leave the hot sheath of your pussy."
"No, no, no," she cried out, beginning to feel the salty, hot tears pouring down her cheeks. "I want more. I want you to fuck me, really fuck me. I want you to rip me apart inside. Make me hurt. I want to feel it, damn you, really and truly rape me!"
"I'll give you my cock. All you can stand," he said solemnly.
He began fucking with well-paced strokes until she thought she'd lose her mind, not from the wild passions of fucking caused in her loins but because of their lack. Clover wasn't frigid-she just needed different types of fucking to get off in as big a way as possible. The same old routine bored her silly. And she and Michael had been fucking like this for five entire years. Nothing she said had any effect on her husband. Michael was going to fuck her as if she were a piece of fragile porcelain and that was that.
Another woman could have come hard on the feel of his prick pressing so powerfully against her cunt walls. The thickness of his cock kept Clover writhing about, moaning and demanding more. Not once did he allow her to cool off. But never did he shove her over the brink of orgasm, either.
"Here it comes," he grunted, raising himself up on his hands to get a different angle of entry into her sucking, seething cunt.
He blasted into her so hard it rattled her teeth. She closed her eyes and imagined herself staked out naked in the middle of a burning desert, being raped by marauding Indians. She was tied and helpless, unable to prevent the rape. She felt the flaming hot cock race all the way up into her fuck channel again. She felt the sexual tensions mounting in her belly.
And then he came. Michael's prick spewed out of the white-hot load of cum and he spurted repeatedly. But Clover couldn't get off on that. It wasn't the brutal, savage fucking she so desperately needed.
Cheated, Clover simply lay under her husband until he'd pumped the last of his jism from his balls. He smiled and said, "It was great. But with you, darling, it's always great."
"It's always the same," she said in a dull voice.
"Always great!" enthused Michael, rolling off her and stroking his hand over her still-heaving belly. He seemed more animated now than when he was fucking her, she thought grimly.
Clover never quite enjoyed the fucking. Every time she suggested something different from this dull fucking to Michael, he laughed at her, thinking she was just joking. Clover wondered how she could get through to the man that she needed more than just cock, that she needed different places to fuck in, different positions, excitement!
The dark-haired woman realized there was no way of convincing Michael of that. She'd have to do something she'd never considered doing before in the five years they'd been married. She would have to find herself another man.
That thought on her mind, she drifted off to sleep smiling contentedly.