Chapter 2
Eleanor felt the meaty hand rubbing the inside of her tender thigh. She sighed and rolled onto her side, not sure if she wanted to put up with Jack's in-and-out, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am fucking tonight or not. She was so damn horny, she didn't want to add to her frustration of not getting her rocks off while he did.
"Not tonight, honey," she whispered. "I'm too tired. It's been a long day. And I . .
"Bullshit!" the man said. "I was the one who went to work, spent two hours caught up in traffic jams and then came home to TV dinners. You didn't do a damn thing all day except have your bridge club over. Let's fuck, darling."
His hand tightened around her leg, and he pulled her closer. But her emotions took her away from him. She loved Jack, had loved him almost from the first instant they'd met. There had never been any of the uncertainty she had sensed in other couples. She and Jack had taken to each other like ducks to water.
She had lost her cherry to him on their third date and that pretty well sealed it with her. She wanted to marry him; he wanted to marry her. And they did.
But now they were both bored out of their minds. The sameness of the fucking was only part of it. Their entire lives had fallen into a rut. The predictability of it all drove her wild. She felt, like an animal in a cage-and she didn't even have the diversions of a zoo animal. People didn't parade before her. She was stuck in the house, her only outside contact through her bridge club.
And the other women she knew were as bored with their lives as she was.
Eleanor had often wondered if she should go out and get a job, but she doubted Jack would approve. Besides, she had married as soon as she had been graduated from high school. She had no skills that would get her a job. Eleanor also had the same feelings as Jack about a woman working.
Her place was in the home.
Her dilemma was growing daily, though. She didn't take all that long to do the housework. It went quickly, what with all the electrical appliances. It wasn't like in her grandmother's day when an entire week could be filled with the simplest of tasks. She didn't have to bake bread-she could go to the store for it. She didn't have to take the rugs out and beat them clean-the vacuum cleaner did it in nothing flat.
She watched a lot of the soap operas on television, sometimes masturbating at the sight of those handsome stars. But that was no replacement for an exciting, thrilling, fulfilling fuck with her husband.
"Not tonight, Jack, please," she repeated. "I'm just not in the mood for it now. I've got a lot on my mind."
"Then it's up to me to help you forget it all," he said, obviously going to fuck her whether she wanted it or not.
She sighed and gave into the inevitable. If she didn't cooperate at least half-heartedly, he would virtually rape her. Unlike most women, even the fantasy of being raped didn't turn her on. She wanted to enter into the fucking with all her heart. She didn't have to pretend she was being forced.
Shuddering lightly at the feel of her husband's hand slowly moving back and forth on the inside of her leg, she turned toward him. Her tits bobbed delightfully under her thin nightie. Jack saw the movement, and Eleanor felt the sheets on the bed move as his cock stiffened into full hardness.
Gone was the limp prick. It was now a full fledged fucking tool. It was a cock-a cock she had once desired above all else in the world. She sighed again when she felt the hot shaft press hard against her belly.
"Come on, darling," the man urged. "Get with it. This is fun!"
For him it was. For her it Was almost torture. She felt her dry pussy begin to churn in the age-old fashion and knew that it wouldn't be a dry fuck. Some consolation. What she wanted was a little romance, perhaps. Or at least something different-always fucking in the same position got to be a drag.
"Honey, let me get on top this time," she pleaded. "Please. It . . . it would make it a lot better, I think."
"Bullshit! You know you love the feel of my cock in your cunt. When I'm fucking you, you forget everything else. It doesn't matter what position you're in."
He rolled on top of her, forcing his legs to spread wantonly wide. His cock nudged between her cuntlips.
She shuddered involuntarily this time. She was slowly responding to him, whether she wanted to or not. The nearness of that prick made her remember all the good times they had fucked. She remembered the first time, how she had thought the top of her head would blast off into orbit as his cock reamed out her cunt.
It had been different then. It had all been new and fresh and exciting.
"Aieeeee!" she cried as be drove in his prick.
She felt the thick stalk of cockmeat pressing hotly against the tender walls of her cunt. Her frothy fuck-fluids hadn't fully lubricated her pussy yet, but the way her body responded would soon take care of that.
"See?" the man demanded. "You do get off on it.
Na more of this let me get on top, shit. You know you enjoy it when I fuck you. You love the way my cock fills that cunt of yours and makes you think I'm going to rip you apart all the way to the chin."
The dirty words he uttered had their effect on her. The woman's cunt began to drool in the most obscene manner possible. Jack thought it was his prowess at fucking that had done it.
If he could have looked inside Eleanor's head he would have known differently. She wasn't in bed with her husband. She dreamed she was out in the woods, a lumberjack sweating and wiping his forehead as he chopped down tree after tree. He had tired and took a rest, pulling off his shirt. The man's mighty muscles rippled and gleamed as the sunlight reflected off his sweaty body. And then she saw him go take a piss. The yellow stream blasted hotly against a tree trunk and dribbled to the forest floor.
She came-hard! And the lumberjack turned, his prick still in his massive hand. A look of surprise crossed his face, then he smiled and beckoned to her. She didn't want to do anything but run, but the sight of that huge cock-almost as big as the tree the lumberjack had been chopping-turned her on more than she cared to admit.
She came again, screaming and thrashing about on the rumpled surface of her bed.
Jack continued to fuck her with long, slow strokes, his fucking cock slowly matching the one in her fantasy world.
"See?" Jack panted. "You are getting off on it. And you said you weren't in the mood. Dumb bitch! You love this as much as I do!"
"Yes, yes, yesssss!" she hissed, her head tossing from side to side, sending out cascades of hair to halo her face.
It might have been her husband fucking her tight little pussy, but in her mind it was a lumberjack-big and virile and brandishing a cock as thick as a telephone pole.
And he stuffed it into her tiny cunt!
"No, no!" she cried out loud. "It's too big. You'll rip me up with that thing!"
Her husband thought she meant him. It spurred him on to fuck her with even more power and determination. Little did he know that his wife was lost in the grip of a fantasy world.
The prick thrilled her, but not as much as it once had. The feel of his heavy, muscular body pressing down onto her slender one turned her on, but not as much as before. Everything about fucking with Jack had taken on all the excitement of a summer rerun on television.
Jack grunted and began pumping in and out of Eleanor's cunt with growing insistence.
"I . . . oh, shit!" he moaned aloud. "I'm coming!"
The woman tensed as she felt his cock begin to grow inside her. It had been large before, but now it was a monster. She clamped her eyes tightly shut and imagined the lumberjack slamming repeatedly into her tender, yielding cunt. The lewd squishing sounds from her crotch only pushed her arousal up more.
And then came the sweet gush of jism blasting from the tip of his prick. The man never stopped fucking the entire time his cock was fountaining out his thick white goo.
Eleanor struggled passionately, almost coming at the touch of his jizz. But as before, she felt robbed. Jack had come just before begot her off. And now he was content to sigh and roll off her, his arms around her but his cock slowly deflating like a punctured balloon.
"Jack," she said softly, "I'm still horny. Please eat me out. I need your mouth on my cunt!"
Jack snored softly.
Eleanor wanted to cry in frustration. She had already gotten off a couple times, but that was just the buildup she needed to a really big orgasm. She had been robbed of the supreme come once mare.
She ached inside. Her cunt throbbed with unfulfilled lust. Her clit was throbbing and twitching until she imagined it would pop. Her tits had been stimulated to the extent that her nipples were hard little pebbles of lust.
She wanted more cock in her tight, needy cunt. She wanted the feel of a man's finger on her cut. She wanted soft, sucking lips and a tongue moving all over her nipples and tit-mounds.
Eleanor got none of them.
Jack was sound asleep, snoring softly now, his lust sated while hers was still building.
The more she thought about her fantasy lumberjack, the worse it became for her. She had to have cock, but it was denied her.
She wanted to cry out loud but knew she could never explain to Jack why she wasn't happy with his fucking. What more could he do? he'd say. Hadn't he fucked her like he always had? That was the big problem and the one thing she could never come out and admit to him.
Sure, it was just like before-boring! She needed him to go down on her, to lick her cunt, to suck up all her cuntjuice, to tongue her clit and make her come in a new and excitingly different way. She needed it! She didn't even come close to getting it.
The woman slid from between the sweat-soaked sheets and moved toward the bathroom, almost stumbling as she went. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out in her frustration. In the bathroom, she closed the door and turned on the light.
Looking into the mirror, she saw a haggard face-the face of a woman deprived of a real fuck.
Turning out the light again, she moved to the bathtub. It took her only a couple seconds to realize what she wanted to do. If her husband wasn't able to get her off, she would do it herself. Turning on. the water, she waited for it to get to just the right temperature. The warmness slashed and gushed around her testing finger before she moved that finger to her cunt.
The warmth inside her sent tremors up and down her spine. This was so good! She couldn't stand it any longer. She almost dived into the bathtub, her legs going up into the air along the wall, her pussy almost pressed to the faucet. The warm water gushed faster and faster over her cuntlips, tried to drive into her pussy and give her the come she had been denied before.
The feelings built and built in the woman's body. The water caressed her tingling clit until she was shuddering and moaning out loud from the intense passion wracking her body.
"So goooood!" she groaned.
Her fingers dived to part her cuntlips. She felt the thick, puffy flaps of flesh guarding her pussy throb with sexual power. The water cascaded down and beat on her harder, warmer, more insistently And then she came harder than she ever had before.
The climax caused her to screw out at the top of her lungs. She didn't care if Jack heard or not. This was what she had been needing for so long-complete sexual surrender. It should have been her husband's prick giving her such divine feelings. She should never have had to resort to such a sordid method of getting herself off.
But she wasn't going to stop. The water splashed tirelessly against her clit, dribbled down over her aroused cuntlips and trickled into her asshole. The lightest of touches would have gotten her off again. The creeping fingers parting her pussy-lips worked down to her asshole. She began finger-fucking her own asshole.
She came again-and again and again.
She sobbed constantly now, her entire body aflame with lust. She no longer thought of how depraved this was. All that mattered was the delightful sensation ripping away at her mind. She was coming like a string of Fourth of July firecrackers going off. That was all that mattered or would ever matter.
"Oh, God, it's so nice," she moaned out loud. "I need more. Don't leave me till I get all I can stand!"
The water continued to stroke her turgid cuntlips. Her cuntlips swelled with lust. She gripped one of the pussy-lips between thumb and forefinger and stroked. A lightning bolt of sensation ripping all the way through her body caused her to arch her back, pressing ass and shoulders into the cold ceramic of the bathtub.
"Oh, lover, don't stop. Get me off! Lick my cunt! Suck my poor little pussy," she sobbed.
The woman's mind began generating a new fantasy lover. If her husband wouldn't go down on her and eat her out, she would invent one from the depths of her insane desire.
She imagined a man crouching between her legs, hands pushing her soft thighs wider and wider apart to expose her flowing cunt to his mouth. His rough pink tongue slurped up and down her pussy until she struggled passionately. The water from the faucet took the place of a real tongue. She imagined the water to be the tongue she so desperately wanted licking her cuntlips and probing into the seething well of her fuck-tunnel.
The man remained indistinct-a fantasy figure cut from darkness. But his tongue did the talking for him. He licked and sucked at her cunt until she came again. And still desire remained locked in the woman's lithe, trim body. Her right hand clutched fiercely at her cut, stroking and manipulating the tiny nubbin of sensitive flesh until she could do hardly more than sob incoherently.
Her left hand smashed down fiercely on her tits. Taking one nipple between thumb and forefinger, she rolled the hard little pebble around in ever widening circles until she threatened to rip her entire tit off her chest.
The pain only added fuel to her lust. The water hammered against her most sensitive flesh. Her finger worked insistently on her clit, moving her gradually toward the gut-wrenching orgasm she so desperately sought. The fingers gripping her nipple tightened to give even more pain. The throbbing of her heart communicated through the shaking mound of titflesh. She pressed harder. Her ass slid down in the bathtub so that her cunt was immediately under the torrent of water. Her cuntlips stung and burned from the hot water, but she hardly noticed. Her attention was focused on thee delight of orgasm working through her body.
She screeched aloud again as still another come gripped her. And then she realized the potential for an even larger climax existed inside her. She changed her fantasy. No longer did the man crouching between her legs lick and suck at her cut.
He pissed on her now.
The man stood with one foot on either side of the bathtub, his hand wrapped firmly around his cock. He directed the stream of smelly hot piss onto her body, across her tits, down over the trim bulge of her belly and onto her cut.
The urine stream smashed into her cuntlips. She knew it was happening to her-it was more real than reality itself.
When Eleanor came, it was a bone-jarring orgasm that refused to die. It lifted her up and up, soaring and gliding until she thought she would be totally destroyed by it. Never had she experienced such a came. And when it left her weak and groaning in the bathtub, she smiled in appreciation.
She knew now that she was a sexual animal. She could get off. It was Jack who wasn't delivering. Eleanor felt both relief and regret in that moment. She was capable of the most intense feelings possible-and Jack wasn't giving, them to her.
Sighing, she rose, dried herself off and then went back to the bed, where Jack snored softly, thinking he had given her what she needed.