Chapter 4

Charles Martin poured himself another stiff drink and then swallowed almost half of it in a single gulp. He knew he had had too many already, but the warmth that the whiskey brought made him feel better, in spite of the slight buzzing in his head.

He looked over at the antique clock on the bar. Nearly eleven, he noted. And still no Donna. The cook had made him dinner, which he had barely eaten. Then she cleaned up the dishes and left as usual. That was when Charles began to toss down one straight shot after another.

The kids had come in about an hour earlier, but, not expecting to find him home, they went straight up to their rooms without even a hello. Their lights were off now, so Charles guessed that they had big plans for the next day and would be starting out early. He had waited and waited and waited, but still his wife wasn't home.

He resisted the urge to call the Club. Somehow he didn't want to have anything to do with that organization. It was bad enough that his wife spent all her time there; he wasn't about to phone up and admit that he had lost control over Donna to the allure of the Club.

He sat down in an overstuffed chair and rested his head against the back. It hadn't always been that way. In the early days of their marriage, they hadn't been able to keep away from one another for more than a few hours. And they hadn't been able to keep their hands off one another.

Charles shifted in the chair. He was feeling drowsy now, and the flood of those happy memories came upon him, covering him like a blanket and warming him with pleasant images of Donna and him playing together, having fun with one another, and falling into bed, exhausted, but never too tired to fuck.

Donna had been a virgin when they had married, and Charles had had only limited experiences. Still, their first nights together had been ones of tenderness and concern. On their honeymoon, Charles had waited for his wife to emerge from the bathroom, fully covered by a long, silk negligee. She skitted across the room and hid herself under the covers. Charles could sense her tension and for a long time, he did nothing but kiss her gently, stroke her head, and hold her close to him. He could still hear the fluttering beats of her heart when he ventured to touch her breasts.

Donna caught her breath, then looked up into Charles' eyes. Her husband smiled back, but though he could feel the anxiety that spread over her body, he kept his hand where it was-firmly cupping one breast. Then, only when she had become accustomed to that touch, did he let his fingers lightly traipse over other areas of her skin.

Gradually, Charles led his new bride through the initiation stages of the recognition of her own bodily functions and needs. Little by little he awakened an ingrained sensuality that had lain dormant and was only now brought to the surface. His cock ached-it had been hard from his first touch of her skin-but still he held back. He used his fingers and lips like the instruments of pleasure that they were, rather than weapons of defloration that might forever color Donna's view of sex.

It was only when he had fully explored her body that he made any move to satisfy himself. He had spent many minutes probing her virgin cunt with his fingers, feeling the moistness give way to a full flowing of her internal juices. And he had tickled and excited and teased her, making her relaxed and stimulated all at the same time. And now her body had come alive, he could feel it in her trembling, hear it in the soft whimpers and mewing that slipped from her mouth, sense it in her eyes, her attitude, her bodily positions.

She was ready now, and Charles propped himself up so that he knelt over her. Then suddenly Donna spoke, "No, please, wait. Let me touch it. Let me feel your manhood." And she reached out towards the erection that stood straight up from between his legs.

Charles moved his hips forward, and his gigantic cock swung over to her waiting hand. Tentatively the young girl took the organ in her palm, feeling its ridges and pounding veins burning against her hand. Then she enclosed her fingers around the pole. She hesitated for a moment, then began to slowly massage the penis in her fist. At first the pressure was light; then she became emboldened, and she squeezed, feeling the cock react with a jolt of pleasure under her fingertips.

Donna was happy that she was giving her husband so much pleasure. "Oh, please," she cried. "Put it in me. Please let me feel it right now." She lay back against the pillows and pulled Charles forward, not letting go of his cock for an instant.

The girl spread her legs and began to rub the purple head of Charles' organ against her juicing slit. He was amazed to see her reacting with a fierceness and demand for fulfillment that he was unaware that she possessed. He held back for a second, long enough to place one of the pillows underneath her ass. Then, with his wife in the right position, Charles began the slow, artful penetration of her virginal pussy.

He slipped inside easily but almost immediately had to stop. His cock was just too large for her, and it took her vaginal walls time to stretch out to accommodate him. Three or four times he entered her hole, each time getting in a little further before withdrawing, only to use his fingers to get her hotter and wetter. Then he would try again.

Finally he was all the way in. Donna let out a final scream as he pushed past her cherry and then began to feverishly kiss him on the face, the eyes, the lips.

He moved slowly at first, not wanting to hurt that tender area that had just been penetrated for the first time by a cock. But it was Donna who urged him on to more. She was moaning and groaning, throwing her legs around his waist, then digging her heels into the bed. Her hips bounced under him, matching his every thrust. Her cunt was on fire now, and she was working to being about the spray of his come-the only liquid that could quench the flames. "Oh, Charles," she whispered in his ear. "Do it to me ... stick it in hard ... harder ... fuck me, my husband ... fuck meeeee ... my lover...."

They say it is unusual for a woman to experience an orgasm her first time, but Donna came that evening. She came long and hard, and she continued to move her hips after she had finished, using her cunt to swallow up his cock, making him spurt out at last.

And that was just the beginning. They would fuck at every opportunity. On the beach. In the back of a car. At night, during the afternoons (Charles never had a problem getting home from work early if he knew Donna was waiting for him), and sometimes a "quickie" in the morning. Donna became adept at sucking his cock, and Charles loved the taste of her. pussy. They would spend hours doing sixty-nine, and then turn over and fuck for hours more. It was a wonderful, sensual, pleasure-filled, loving existence those first few years....

Charles awoke with a start. He thought he heard a noise, and he cocked his head in the direction of the front door. The room was dark and he must have fallen asleep in his chair. Then he heard it again; yes, it was the front door. Donna was home.

He got up and looked at his watch. Past midnight. He squinted in the dim light, and the pounding in his head made him feel dizzy. Now where has she been? Yes, of course, the Club. He walked towards the doorway, but his legs felt rubbery, and he had to stop by the sofa and rest for a while. That's when Donna entered the room. She was startled to see her husband there, a little tight, and looking bleary-eyed at her. Turning on the light, she surveyed the mess. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the coffee table, and Charles' glass lay where it had fallen, on the floor in a puddle made by the melted ice cubes.

Donna looked over at her husband who smiled at her, weakly and a bit embarrassed to be caught in this position. He waved at her, and she couldn't help feeling a resurgence of that old love she had felt for him all these years. He was like a little child now, on the verge of being sick after stuffing himself with too many goodies. But at the same time, she felt distant from the stranger who sat uncomfortably on the couch. She wanted to rush over and hug him to her bosom, and stroke his head and tell him that it would be all right. Yet the thought of touching him revolted her. He was no longer a husband, just a boarder in the house who took up space but offered her no emotional support. And making love to this outsider would be too painful, because of the many nostalgic memories that would keep popping into her mind.

"Good evening, Charles," she finally said. "I hope you haven't been waiting up just for me." She walked over and picked the glass up from the floor. The man didn't answer. He just looked at her and he felt himself becoming aroused. Perhaps it had been the dream, or maybe it was a renewal of his desire from that afternoon. All he knew was that he had to have her.

As she walked by him, he reached out and grabbed her by the arm. Pulling her body to his own, he mashed his lips against hers, forcing her mouth open with his insistent tongue. The woman twisted her head away, but he held her by her chin and brought her back to their oral embrace. Finally she managed to push him away. "Stop it, Charles," she demanded. "You're drunk, and you don't know what you're doing."

"Oh, yes I do," he answered, and he lunged forward, catching her by the arm. He spun her around with such force that the glass she was holding went crashing to the floor. Then he pulled her to him and held her in a bear-hug with his massive arms, all the while kissing her wet and hard.

She struggled against him, but he was too strong for her. Or maybe it was the madness of the drink that gave him a kind of crazed power over her. His hands were on her now, tugging at her garments, and she felt the buttons on her dress being pulled off as he tore at them with his fingers. Then all of the buttons down the back were open, and he yanked the material away from her body.

She was left with just her white bra and panties now, and Charles took a long look at her curvaceous body before pressing one palm across her breast, cupping his palms around her nipple. He could feel the tits get hard under his touch, even as she struggled to pull away. "No, please don't," she kept repeating in a half-whine, trying to break the grip he had on her breasts. He was too much for her, though, and Charles reached around behind her and unhooked the bra. He yanked at it and threw it into a corner of the room. Donna had never seen him act like this-an animal using brute strength to get his way.

With the bra gone, Donna's breasts hung free. Charles quickly grabbed one, and the shock of flesh against his palm drove him even wilder. He pushed his lips to other breast and took the nipple in between his teeth. He chewed on the flesh, making it come alive under his attentions, and then he sucked on her tits, licking them, making them hot and wet. Donna tried to push his face away with her hands, and when that failed, she kicked out at him, hoping to make him come to his senses. But she missed, and Charles continued to have his way with her.

He wasn't content with just her nipples. He took one hand and began to peel off her white panties. Donna grabbed at the material and attempted to hold it around her crotch. But Charles just used his hand to feel her cunt through the panties, and when she tried to push him away, he pulled the white cloth over her hips and down her legs. Donna was very upset now. She was sobbing to herself and doing all in her power to get the man to stop. But he seemed oblivious to her. Or rather, the more she struggled, the more he appeared to get turned on. It was as if Donna's fighting to protect her cunt was as powerful a stimulation as the feel of her skin.

With one final tear, the cloth of the panties came off of Donna's crotch. Charles pressed his palm against her hairy mound. It had been a long time since he had felt her down there, and he hesitated for a moment, letting the thin hairs tickle his skin. Then he began to shove his long, hard fingers all around her soft little twat. Her cunt was wet, juicing wildly. She was excited, as ex cited as Charles was, even though she didn't stop fighting him. It only proved to Charles that her protests were all an act, that she wanted him too. And in his drunken state he determined to have his way with her, to fuck her no matter what she might say or do.

He was hard now, his cock ready to poke through his zipper. But how to get out of his trousers? With all the skill of a practiced rapist, he grabbed his wife by the wrist and twisted her arm behind her back. He hurt her. In a way he wanted to. He hurt her so much that she winced and called out. But he only grinned and tightened his grip on her arm. In a way the pain he was giving her made up for his sense of rejection.

With his free hand he reached down and unzipped his pants. His huge organ popped out, sticking up towards the ceiling, and Charles push it against her white skin. "Now listen," he hissed, "you're going to take care of my needs real good. You hear? So you better be nice to me. "'Cause you're gonna get fucked whether you like it or not." And, as if to prove his control over her, he spun her around, twisting her arm tighter and slapping her across the neck at the same time.

Donna went flying off balance across the room and tripped onto the sofa. She landed on the pillows, her ass stuck up in the air and her legs spread. The man didn't take his eyes off her crotch as he quickly dispensed with his clothing.

Soon he stood there naked, his stiff cock throbbing and pounding. He ached with desire, and he had to have her pay attention to his loaded balls.

In a single step he was over her. He pulled her by the shoulder and flipped her over. Grabbing her by the neck, he lifted her head and slipped a pillow underneath. Then he straddled his wife's body, pinning her down with one knee on each arm. His long, hard prick stuck right out into her face.

"Take it in your mouth," he ordered. Donna had no choice. The tip was already resting against her lips. Trembling, she pushed her mouth over the big front of his penis. He felt her soft lips wrap gently around his cock. Then she started to suck on it and glide her lips up and down the long shaft of his rod. , "Oh, yes," he slurred. "I like it. Keep it up." Donna kept on. Her mouth became full of wetness, and she used it to slide her lips up and down his prick. She could hardly take all of it in her mouth, it was so big and her throat was in the wrong position. But Charles liked it. Slowly he began to move his hips in a mouth-fucking motion. In and out his cock slid, stretching her lips wide to take it all in, banging the tip of his organ against her throat.

"Now," he said. "Take my balls in your mouth. Suck on them." And she obeyed immediately, nuzzling her lips and mouth against his nuts, taking his warm, hairy balls into her wet mouth and fondling them with her lips and tongue. She moved from one to the other, sucking on his genitals, making his cock get harder the more she worked on him.

"Please, Charles," she whispered, seeing his mounting excitement and fearful of his aggressive attitude. "Let me suck you off. Let me taste your come. ... But please don't try to fuck me." Then, as if to entice him, she went back to sucking on his balls.

Charles was almost convinced. It felt good down there, what she was doing, and he felt as if his cock were ready to explode. Her tongue was licking the underside of his hard shaft right now, working its way up towards the head of his prick. In a moment she would have her mouth around the organ and then it would be too late. He reached down and stopped the movement of her mouth. "No chance, baby," he said, as if talking to some stranger he had picked up at a bar, "I'm gonna stick my cock right into your little box and come in it."

He ripped his cock from her grasp and slid his body down hers. In an instant he was positioned between her long, shapely legs. Before she had a chance to pull her legs together to protect her pussy, Charles grabbed his cock and shoved it into her juicing hole. The woman wriggled her crotch, and she begged her husband not to fuck her. She was afraid that he was going to hurt her, so wild was the desire in his bleary eyes. The man acted like he had not heard. He kept inserting his stiff rod into her bouncing crotch, feeling it slide into her wet slit and disappear inside her warm flesh.

"Oh," she gasped, as his groin mashed up against hers. "It's so big. Sooo Big!" Her tone was softer now, as if she were about to settle back and enjoy the fuck that was inevitable.

Charles pushed his cock around in her and felt her shiver and continue to wriggle and rotate her bottom. He stroked her back and forth with his rod over and over again. He could feel the explosion welling up inside him, but he bit his lips and continued to plunge in and out of his wife's pussy.

He pushed at the dripping twat with his organ, thrusting away with long, pistoning strokes. He sensed that the come was brewing up in his balls, but he wanted to hold off. When he shot off into her cunt-and he would shortly-he wanted it to be a reassertion of his rights as a husband. He was claiming his wife again, taking her away from her Club and back into his home. He was showing her that she was his, his to do with as he wished. His cock had taken possession of her, had forced its way inside her hole when she didn't want it in there. She was his again and nothing could ever take her away.

The orgasm was brewing up from deep in his groin, and he knew that he was going to come off any minute. Just then his cock grew larger and started to throb and pound, and Donna knew that he was going to explode in her. She began to sob now, crying out for him to wait for her. "Don't come," she begged. "Please don't come yet."

Charles hadn't cared about her all this time. He was concerned only with asserting himself over her, making her subservient to his ramming cock. But now he looked deep into her misting eyes, and he felt overwhelmed by his long-lost love for her. "Oh," he said, almost to himself, "what am I doing?"

But it was too late. His penis was in control now and it was about to come when it wanted to. He tried to hold back so that she could come with him, but his cock was too big, too hard, her pussy too slick, the pleasure too intense for him to wait any longer.

"Ooohhh...." he cried out as his prick exploded with tremendous long spurts of juice. He felt like he hosed down the entire insides of her pussy. Donna grabbed him by the neck and held his face close to her own. She wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked with him as she felt his big cock lurching and spurting off inside her. She held him as tightly as she could, and rode with him as he kept stroking his cock in her, letting the last bits of his come gush out of the end of his penis.

It was over in a few seconds, but still Donna would not let go of the man who lay on top of her. His breathing came irregularly now, half gasps, half-sobs. And his wife, once more his, and understanding the conflicts that the man held within him, stroked his head and whispered in his ear: "That's all right ... its' all right ... there, there ... don't worry ... I'm home now...."