Chapter 2
THROUGHOUT THE DAY, WHENEVER HE had a slack moment, Fred's mind kept reverting to the earlier events of his life.
The sudden knowledge that Pam would be paying Clarisa and himself a visit-and tomorrow, at that kept him on this mental track, though he really wanted to avoid it. It profited him nothing, and certainly he didn't want to take up with Pam. He and Clarisa were as happy as any married couple had a right to be.
But it hadn't always been that way...
Their wedding night was a disaster, as is so often the case when a man marries a virgin.
In the first place, the expectations were tremendous. Fred and Clarisa had been dating for eight months and were engaged for five of those. During the engagement, she had let him take certain liberties, but never to the point of stripping her completely bare or engaging in any form of intercourse.
Heavy petting was their specialty, and sometimes it got so heavy that Fred feared his balls would burst. He played with her titties, usually with her clothes loosened and remaining in place. But there were times when, in the heat of passion, she permitted him to remove her blouse and bra altogether and to play with those gorgeous, round, soft-firm knockers in the nude. A couple of times he even succeeded in getting his mouth down on them and sucking at the large, red nipples.
Clarisa responded so ardently that Fred was tempted to forget about the agreement they had made and to force her to submit to him fully, then and there. He felt certain he wouldn't have to use much force. Clarisa obviously wanted to be laid as strongly as he wanted to lay her.
But afterwards they would both be sorry. So he exerted his will power to the maximum degree and kept from forcing the issue.
Suspense had built up almost unbearably by the time the wedding night arrived. Fred and Clarisa were like athletes over-trained, so there was the fear of failure on both sides.
Fail they did.
Fred's caresses weren't as deft as usual, and his anxiety didn't permit him to take as much time in the build-up as he should have done. Clarisa was extremely nervous, which interfered with her body's preparation for the thrust which was to shatter her virginity.
Fred hardly handled her pussy at all. Just touching that soft, fluffy thing, after so many months of having it denied him, excited him so much that he couldn't wait to drive his stiff prick into it. He drew Clarisa's legs wide apart and clambered between them.
As he settled upon her, her nervousness suddenly increased to the point of near-panic. She felt his cock nudge her pussy, and she wanted to cry, No-I'm not ready! But there was nothing she could do except to tense herself, and this didn't help her predicament at all.
Fred was now at the point where he'd wanted to be for so long. His prick was touching Clarisa's soft, warm split, ready to push against the membrane of her maidenhead and rupture it, so that the prick could sink deeply into her adorable cunt.
Suddenly he emitted a growl and pushed with all his might. Clarisa cried out in pain and she twisted, taking him off center. The hymen wasn't yet broken.
"Ooh, don't!" she exclaimed. "Don't do it again!"
"But I have to, darling," he husked. "How can I make you my wife if I don't break it?"
"Wait a little while," she pleaded, panting and pushing at him. "I can't take it again right now."
"Baby ... don't be silly," he said and held her against the bed, maneuvering his prick into position for another thrust.
"No ... noooooh!" she cried.
He pressed hard. She shrieked and fought him. His prick slid slightly off center again, but split her hymen anyway. This caused the sharpest pain of all. His prick entered her only shallowly before Clarisa succeeded in rolling away from him, and the prick popped out again.
Now Clarisa clamped her blood-moist thighs together and moaned.
Fred lay on his side and gazed at her in consternation. His cock throbbed heatedly. It was so congested that it felt as if it were about to burst.
"Honey ... please..." he begged.
"Nooh!" she wailed. "Don't try it again. Please don't!"
"Well, what am I gonna do?" he blurted.
"I don't know. Just don't touch me. I can't stand it!" She had her arms crossed in front of her and was rolling gently back and forth on her side as she whimpered and moaned.
The shock of her sudden rejection of him caused his long-simmering frustration to boil over, and he forced himself upon her, wrenching her legs apart and jamming his knees between them. She was his wife now, goddamn it, and she was going to behave like a wife should. There would be no more putting him off. He was going to take what he was entitled to.
His prick found the ruptured hymen and, as she shrieked with new pain, he drove that stiff, throbbing rod deeply into her and began to hump her like an animal would. She wailed and struggled, but her motions only excited him all the more. He reared and thrust, reared and thrust until a great surge of passion welled up within him and burst forth to flood Clarisa's hitherto unsullied cunt.
She was sobbing when Fred's seminal deluge entered her, and the sudden pooling wetness caused her to cry louder.
He pulled his prick out of her right away.
Clarisa had derived no satisfaction from the intercourse. On the contrary, it had hurt and shocked her, creating a psychological barrier against future satisfaction. Fred had his work cut out for him, to break this barrier down.
They didn't attempt intercourse again that night.
Clarisa continued to cry for awhile as Fred held her in his arms, caressing and trying to soothe her. Now that his passion was temporarily satisfied, he felt tenderness toward her, and he blamed himself for having been too aggressive and inconsiderate.
After awhile she got up and went to the bathroom. There was blood on the sheet where she'd lain.
When she returned, she'd quit crying. Fred helped her change the sheet.
He tried to talk with her about the experience, but she wouldn't discuss it. He began to feel a new sense of frustration, of being shut out.
Finally they fell asleep side by side.
He awoke with a hard cock, as usual, and wanted desperately to approach her, but he decided he would have to proceed carefully.
He cuddled up to her from the back, putting his arms around her, fondling her titties through her nightgown while his cock pressed against the resilient bulge of her bottom. She awakened, and he began to talk to her, murmuring endearments.
He could feel her go tense as she remembered vividly what had happened the night before and anticipated another ordeal of painful, animalistic thrusting of his phallus into her tender vagina, during which she would derive no satisfaction.
But he was able to proceed more slowly this time, to take his time building her up, and to try to overcome her fear of his prick. He reasoned that the best way to accomplish the latter would be to make her more familiar with the male organ.
She'd never seen his prick-had never seen any prick, as far as he knew-and had never had an opportunity to play with one, since she had only touched him through his clothes during their long period of courtship.
He lowered the covers on the bed and persuaded her to turn onto her side, facing him, while he lay on his back. He removed his stiff penis from his pajamas and held it straight up for her examination. She went wide-eyed as she watched him slide back the foreskin and expose the huge, plump, rosy head.
She didn't say anything at first.
"See there," he murmured. "It's nothing to be afraid of."
She obviously didn't accept that conclusion.
"Take hold of it," he told her.
"Noooh." He could feel her cringe.
"Baby ... please ... you have to get over this silly fear. Now take hold of it."
Finally she reached out in a tentative way and touched the awesome, pulsating head. His rod jerked, and she pulled back quickly.
He laughed. "Don't be afraid of it. Take hold."
After a moment, she reached out again. It didn't jerk this time when she touched it, and she did wrap her soft, slim little hand around the rigid shaft.
"Now stroke it gently up and down," he murmured.
She stroked it. She didn't say anything as she stared at what she was doing. He was aware that her respiration had increased.
"All you need to do, honey, is to relax," he said as excitement heightened within him and made his voice slightly hoarse. She was getting him strongly worked up again. "When you relax, there'll be no problem of getting it into you. It won't hurt."
She broke her silence to insist vehemently, "Yes, it will!"
Even though he had a great need of her immediately, he decided he would have to take some time to play with her pussy ... perhaps even to kiss it. That would stimulate her lubricating juices and excite her to the point where she would overcome her fear and eagerly accept him.
He got up on his hands and knees, and she gasped because she thought he was going to mount her. But instead he backed lower on the bed and gently guided her thighs apart as his face approached her fluffy feminine shrine.
He stroked the soft pussy fur with his fingers.
"Ooooh, Fred..." she sighed.
Aaah, he thought. He was making progress.
He leaned close to her cunt, and his nostrils dilated as they smelled her female odor. He stroked her large pussy lips with his thumbs.
She moaned and wriggled her ass against the mattress.
He crawled into a better position, fully between her legs, and used his thumbs to open the outer portals of her cunt.
"Ooh!" she said sharply. "That hurts."
Obviously it was extremely tender. Though he didn't attempt a detailed examination, he assumed that her hymen had ripped badly and the ragged edges were causing considerable discomfort.
He attempted to get a finger into her pussy, but this caused her to cry out again, and she tried to get him out from between her legs and get her legs closed.
"Clarisa, for God's sake!" he exclaimed as he lifted his head.
"Don't touch it," she said. "Ooh, please don't touch it!"
"Then you're going to have to touch me," he demanded without thinking. "I have to have some satisfaction."
"Wh-what do you mean?"
He was crawling back up beside her. "I want you to jack me off."
"What?"
"Masturbate me," he explained. "Oh, Fred...! " Her tone made her disgust quite plain.
"You don't understand how it is with a man," he argued defensively. "I have to have it. I can't lie here beside you like this and touch your breasts and vagina without getting very excited. I need a release."
"But I ... I don't know how."
"I'll show you," he said and took her hand in his.
He placed it around his rigid cock and moved it up and down, so that she was sliding the foreskin back and forth across his corona in the rhythm that he wanted her to use.
Looking at it purely from a man's standpoint, he failed to realize that he was alienating her further, for she found the act repugnant and took as an affront the fact that he had asked her to perform it.
She kept moving her hand on his cock, however, for she felt this was the lesser of the evils. At least this way he wouldn't be jamming the huge, brutal thing into her again.
He closed his eyes and groaned, writhing, as he approached the peak. She kept moving her hand in the same rhythm. Her failure to speed up, plus the fact that she didn't squeeze his rod quite tightly enough, served to prolong the act, causing him to hang as if suspended just inches away from his prize.
"Faster ... move faster!" he panted.
She speeded up a little, but she broke rhythm as she did so and this further frustrated his steady advance toward the goal.
He eventually reached his climax, his semen arcing up and falling to splatter against his legs and hers. As the drops struck her, she felt as if she were being burned by flying drops of grease, and she recoiled, letting his jerking penis go.
The ejaculation was not a very satisfactory one. The climax was soft, and he felt immediately disappointed. He also felt a little resentful toward her; but this passed, and love still had a chance.
That night he was determined to break down her resistance, and it was with this thought firmly in mind that he joined her in bed. She lay tensely on her side of the mattress, watching him like a rabbit might watch a hound that was closing in for the kill.
He took her tenderly in his arms and kissed her lips, which at first were unresponsive. He fluttered his tongue tip against them and gradually persuaded them to part. Now he sank his tongue deeply into her mouth, and his hand moved over her softly-resilient breasts, rolling them and plucking at the nipples.
She began to warm up. Her nipples stiffened. She made a little sound in her throat, took hold at the hack of his neck, and returned his kiss passionately. This was like their dating days. She was acting as if she really wanted him.
He began to slide his hand lower on her body, petting her through her nightgown. His hand caressed her belly, then slid to her pubic mound.
He felt her begin to tense up.
He threw the covers off and slid toward the foot of the bed. Taking hold of the lacy hem of her nightgown, he raised it to completely denude her thighs and the hairy pussy which he adored.
"Fred..." she murmured and that was all. It was difficult to determine whether her breathing of his name was intended to spur him on or to get him to stop.
He had no intention of stopping, but he wasn't going to hurry, either. Tonight he was going to give her a new and different treatment and to take all the time the treatment required.
At first, she held her legs stiffly together when he attempted to open them, but the steady outward pressure as his fingertips caressed her on the inner thighs accomplished its purpose, and her thighs slowly parted. He lifted one lovely leg over his shoulder and hunched down between them.
Tonight he had deliberately left a soft lamp burning, and the gentle glow brought out the rich beauty of her cunt-the fleshy large lips with a profusion of curly brown hairs along them; the succulent inner flesh, pink and slick in appearance even though it was not yet moist.
He caressed the outer pussy lips and gradually worked them farther apart so that his fingertips could delve into the warm, smooth envelope of folded flesh. He tickled her clit and caused it to harden. Her lips became puffy, and he felt her first moisture. The fragrance of aroused femininity drifted to his nostrils.
"This doesn't hurt, does it?" he asked in a soothing tone as he continued to intimately caress her.
"Noooh," she admitted, but it was evident that she remained tense, anticipating the hurt which she believed would come.
He leaned closer to her cunt.
He was so close now that he could blow into the lovely snatch. He held its outer lips far apart with his thumbs, exhaling into it. She gasped. He moved closer, extended his tongue, and took a swiping lick at the sensitive little lips which guarded the passage that went deep into her belly.
"Uuuuuuh!" she said with a fluctuating inflection, and her crotch quivered.
He gripped her thighs firmly from underneath and spread them even farther apart. He had her wide open now. Her little lips flared at the entrance to her cunt.
He slid his tongue out once more and touched the tip of it to the entrance of that hole. This time he kept his tongue there and managed to hold her in position, though she was trying to buck. Gently and lovingly, he licked into her pussy, sinking his tongue slowly into the delectable crevice, as far as his tongue could reach.
"Ooooooh!" she cried. "Oooh, Freddie ... darling ... loverrr!"
He licked in and out of her sweet cunt, and it seemed to pulsate around his tongue, as if it were trying to suck him more deeply in. He slid his hands up to Clarisa's buttocks and let his fingertips get between them, spreading the fleshy loaves apart. The middle finger of his right hand teased the puckery indentation of her ass-hole, all the while his tongue working into her quivering pussy and out again ... in and out, in and out ...
It was clear now that he was overcoming her fear. She had relaxed and seemed actually to desire more lovemaking. His tongue was at once soothing and titillating as it stroked in and out through the tender tear in her vagina.
Her legs lifted and she knotted them around the back of his neck. He burrowed deeper into her cunt, until he had both his nose and mouth deeply buried in the fragrant, moist flesh.
Now he moved around a bit, licking up and down her lips and twirling the tense little tip of her clitty.
Ever so gently, he dislodged her legs from about his neck and crawled fully onto her nubile body. Her tits puffed high, the nipples rigidly stiff and sticking up toward the stars. He lowered his hard, hairy chest against those nipples and rode the rounded breasts which felt and moved like air pillows beneath him. The tip of his fiery rod found the opening of her cunt, which was quite wide and moist and ready now.
"Want it?" he breathed, pushing himself up so that he could look her in the eyes.
"I'm ... still afraid." Even as she said it, he could feel her stiffen.
"I'll go very easy," he promised. "Don't expect it to hurt. Expect it to feel very good."
Bracing himself securely on hands and knees, he worked the tip of his prick around and around in the elastic mouth of her pussy, and then he slowly sank it past the edges of the membrane he had torn the previous night. She uttered a little cry, showing that the tissue was still very tender, but he continued to proceed gently as he sank his cock deeply into her warm, smooth cunt.
Now slowly he drew his pecker out.
"Oooh, Fred..." she breathed.
"Hurt?" he asked.
"It's ... all right," she said and sounded as if she actually wanted him to continue. He was making real progress.
He slowly slid his cock out until all but the tip had escaped from her circling grasp, then reversed direction and glided his hot cock into her again. She was moistening quite freely now, and he felt her tension melting away. If her torn tissue continued to hurt her, the hurt had at least become tolerable. But he dared not hump her hard.
This made matters difficult for Fred, because his natural inclination was to pump his prick vigorously in and out of her hot little hole. However, he restrained himself and moved smoothly and slowly ... in, out, in, out ... deepening his possession with each penetrating thrust. Clarisa began to breathe hard.
"Do you like it?"
"I ... I think so."
That wasn't the most encouraging of reports for a man to receive from the lady in whom he sunk his rampant prick, but Fred was encouraged nevertheless, and he continued to stroke his large cock in and out of her slippery, tight cunt.
The excitement of that pussy's snugness was beginning to have its effect upon him and he found, after a little while, that he could hold off his climax no longer. Suddenly he spasmed, shooting his warm cream deeply into her vaginal channel. He bucked, his prick jerking, until his balls had emptied their entire contents, and then he lapsed against Clarisa.
He was aware that she hadn't come.
"Did you get any satisfaction out of it at all?" he asked.
"A little," she said, but he felt this was only a concession to his ego. She hadn't really enjoyed herself.
He withdrew his slick prick from her and sighed.
They hadn't gone on a honeymoon. That was to come later, when they could afford it. In the meantime, he was continuing to work and to save his money so that one day he could acquire a bar or tavern of his own.
The next evening, he was surprised to see Pam Hartley enter the bar where he was working and seat herself on a stool.
He walked over to her.
She smiled. "Haven't seen you since the wedding. How's married life."
"Very good."
"Are you sure."
"Now, look, Pam..."
"Give me a Scotch, will you? Then you can drop me off at my place on your way home. Your shift is about to end, isn't it?"
He nodded. He could easily have rejected her bold invitation, but as he looked at her sitting there and remembered the great pleasure she had once given him, he found himself unable to tell her no.
He didn't want to cheat on Clarisa. His love for her hadn't diminished because of the difficulty they'd experienced in adjusting to each other physically. But he hungered for the thrill of possessing a thoroughly responsive woman-of feeling a vagina in full, eager motion around his plunging cock; feeling it clasp him as Pam's had done the one time he had sunk his prick into her; and finally feeling the orgasmic spasms, which he had inspired travel up and down a woman's body as he ejaculated into her.
This hunger, subconsciously working on him, caused him to escort Pam out to his car, while consciously he told himself that nothing was going to happen-he was just going to take her home.
She didn't sit particularly close to him, but her conversation immediately became suggestive.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I have a sneaking notion that our little Clarisa isn't exactly the hottest piece of property that a man ever took to bed." She glanced at him, eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Keep your sneaking notions to yourself," he snapped. He felt a need to defend his new bride.
"Oh, come on now..." She laughed. "If Clarisa is no ball of fire, it's probably not her fault. Nobody becomes inhibited by choice."
"Just what is all this leading up to?" he asked.
"Nothing. Nothing. But I just want you to know I'm still available ... that is, in case you feel the need of a ... shall we say, more responsive partner."
In one way, he wanted to stop the car and dump her out on her ass. But in another way, he was fascinated by her offer.
What he said was, "You have no pride at all, have you?"
"Of course. But I have no silly false pride which says we have to pretend what's really important isn't important at all and that what isn't important is."
"Would you mind translating that?"
"All right." She slid across the seat to sit close to him.
Her nearness set his veins on fire. All he had to do was reach out ... But she did the reaching.
She said, "I happen to think that a good screw is one of the most important things in the world if not the most important, and I take pride in my ability to screw well-to respond to a passionate man. I see nothing prideful about pretending I don't like to or that a man I like doesn't appeal to me. Also, I see no reason in God's world why a woman shouldn't go after what she wants, just as a man does. For instance, I like you very much. To put it on a more basic level, I appreciate your big cock and your talent in using it. I wish you would use it on me again."
With that, she reached into his lap and quickly unzipped his fly. They were in traffic, and he had to drive the car, so he couldn't fight her off.
"Pam, for God's sake!" he exclaimed, but already she had his naked prick in her hand, and it was swelling quickly.
"Well, Clarisa hasn't taken all the starch out of you," she observed, beginning to stroke his foreskin up and down.
His cock assumed rock-hard rigidity at once, its huge head swollen and fiery. He writhed and tried to elbow her away from him, but she merely laughed and held on.
Frantically he looked into the mirror, looking for clearance to change lanes and bring the car to a stop next to the sidewalk. But the traffic had them hemmed in.
"Goddamn it, get your hand off me." He fought her, one-handed, but she managed to fend off his arm and still maintain her hold on his cock.
"If a policeman sees us fighting, he'll pull us over to the side," she warned. "That might prove embarrassing with you like you are."
"Damn you!" he exploded.
"Quit fussing so much. Let me pet your prick while we drive along. It brings me pleasure and it doesn't hurt you."
She was the darnedest person he had ever known.
He quit fighting and let her have her way with him ... for the moment. Her petting of his prick was very exhilarating, and the effect was heightened by the words she murmured in his ear.
"Let's go home to my place, darling. We'll screw there. I'll go down on you, if you like. I'll suck your cock until your balls are dry. We can sixty-nine, if you'd like that. My pussy's very juicy tonight. Touch it and see how wet it is right now."
His pecker throbbed. He wanted nothing better than to kiss her all over-including her cunt-and then to jam his hot cock deeply into that wet vagina and bang it until they both went out of their minds with delight. She would climax with him forcefully. There would be no partial involvement and holding back. But he couldn't.
Clarisa was his wife, and he loved her. Anyway, they were making progress. It wasn't uncommon, he'd heard, for a perfectly normal couple to have trouble becoming adjusted to each other after they were married. All it took was loving consideration, familiarity and practice. In a couple of weeks, he and Clarisa would be going down like a long-married pair, except they'd have the zest which only youth could supply. He wasn't about to jeopardize his future with Clarisa by playing around with Pam. She was supposed to be Clarisa's friend-how did he know she wouldn't tell Clarisa at some time?
Anyway, he didn't want Pam. He wanted his wife, fully and freely, and that's what he was staking his future on.
At the first opportunity, he maneuvered his car over to the curb and brought it to a stop. He dislodged Pam's hand from his massively-congested organ and ordered her out of the car.
She didn't seem angry. Her response was more one of confident amusement. "You know how to get in touch with me," she said, "and you will one of these days. I'm sure of that."
She bent quickly and kissed his cock on its burning tip, then got out of the car.
During the succeeding weeks, he managed to avoid being alone with her. When he and Clarisa got together with her, there wasn't the slightest indication on Pam's part of anything between them. Her attitude toward him was always one of casual friendship.
Then she ran away with a man. They got married and settled down in a city a thousand miles away. So much for Pam, he thought.
He and Clarisa had made an excellent adjustment by that time, and they were genuinely happy. But Clarisa never became as sexually demonstrative as Pam had been with him on the one occasion when they were alone together in his apartment.
Well, Clarisa was a different kind of person, he rationalized. And he assured himself that he was glad he'd married her kind and not Pam's. He didn't envy Pam's husband. When he heard that Pam and her husband had broken up, he nodded his head wisely.
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Clarisa, who had just told him the news.
"Oh, nothing. Pam never struck me as the type who could stay married long to the same guy that's all."
"What a funny thing for you to say," Clarisa remarked, but she didn't puzzle long over it.
They felt totally secure in their relationship. They were happy and well-adjusted. Even Clarisa's inability to have children didn't bother them a great deal. They both felt that the absence of a child in the house prolonged their love affair and when they got a little older, they could adopt a child or two.
In his work, Fred had many chances to play around, if that's what he wanted to do. But he turned down every opportunity. He didn't feel the need of another woman. Clarisa was his and his alone; he was hers. That's how he wanted to keep it.
Now Pam was coming to pay them a visit. Well ... so what?