Chapter 3
Frank Martin rubbed his aching eyes, reflecting how good his usual drink at the end of the day on his way home would taste this evening. He had just finished up the last pressing chore on his desk, dictating a final note for his secretary to send out the next morning. He looked up and out over the long rows of grey desks lined up around him and felt a clawing sense of frustration and constraint.
Jesus, I'm tired! he thought. There's certainly good reason for it though ... I've been at it all day. Damn it, anyway! I'm probably the hardest working broker in this office and it doesn't get me anywhere. Nobody seems to notice or care in the least. I really should demand a promotion ... but it would only be a waste of time and effort. We're all stuck in our places for the time being ... at least until the board decides to expand and open some new managerial positions. If I could only convince Reynolds that we need another supervisor for the suburban office ... if only he would listen to me ... he needs someone there and I'm just the man for the job ... But, damn it ... he'll never give in ... and here I sit... waiting ... and working my ass off.
Bitterly, he read the name and title on the door of the glass enclosed office in front of him: E. J. Reynolds, Regional Manager.
How many times I've dreamed of seeing my name up there, he mused. And how pleased I was to get that offer bringing me in to this office as an executive. I thought all my troubles were over ... and now I feel as if I'm locked in a cage ... a cage of desks, windows, people, and paper! What I really want to do is to break out of here ... and have an office of my own with wood-paneled walls and carpeting on the floor ... complete with a bar and a sexy private secretary for my very own. Hell! There's no doubt in my mind ... I'd be a great manager. I could run circles around those old bastards who Reynolds has so much faith in. So what if they've been around the firm for so many years ... they're behind the times. We need fresh blood! And besides, I've got to make more money ... a hell of a lot more! My payments seem to get worse every month ... I can't meet them all now and feel as if my head can't stay above water! Christ, how am I ever going to get those damn things paid off!
Disgust welled up inside of him as he grabbed his jacket and made his way through the maze of desks and office equipment to the outer door and the hallway which led to the parking lot. He inserted his key into the bright colored sports model and wearily climbed into the driver's seat. Even this car had been a compromise and less than he had wanted and planned to have. He had wanted to buy the larger model which was fully equipped and had a stronger engine and a cleaner-looking body. But Alice had said no, insisting that they be more careful. She had won the argument, and they had settled for the less expensive model. Now, it was costing him even more money because it couldn't hold up to all the driving he was doing and was constantly in the repair shop. He doubted that it would last until all the remaining payments had been made and the car belonged to him. I won't be able to get a dime for this tin jalopy when I turn it in and I'm stuck with this thing for the time being, at least till I can somehow get some of my damn bills paid off!
He turned on the ignition and started backing the car out of his assigned space in the lot behind the building where he seemed to spend most of his waking hours. He groaned to himself in disgust as he drove through the exit staring at the concrete and glass structure which he wanted to conquer. The building never failed to evoke a strained response within him. Was he ever going to get promoted? When would he get anywhere in this rat race? If only he could figure some way out of this mess!
Frank drove down to the entertainment district and parked near one of his favorite cocktail lounges, a place where he often stopped on his way home for a drink or two and some idle chatter with whoever might be sitting at the bar. Going in, he sat down at the thickly padded bar and ordered a dry martini, straight up. The bartender nodded and flashed a smile of greeting. In an instant, the bartender placed the clear liquid in front of Frank, mixed just the way he knew Frank liked them. Frank lifted the glass and sipped. It was perfect!
"That's great... just right," he exclaimed.
The bartender grinned. "How're ya doin', Mr. Martin?"
"It's been a long day," Frank responded.
Slowly looking about Frank's eyes became accustomed to the dimly lit room. He waved at some of the other customers who he recognized and often ran into when he was out drinking at the end of the day.
His eyes suddenly fixed on a booth on his right side. Seated there was a woman, alone. Her strikingly beautiful face and figure attracted and held his attention. The smooth, long-tapering expanse of smooth thigh exposed below her mini-dress invited his gaze.. The woman raised one leg and her dress hiked up as she crossed her legs seductively. He examined her carefully in an effort to confirm his first impression. Phenomenal! he thought. His eyes slowly moved upward to study her exquisite face, a creamy, almost translucent complexion shaped with rich, thick auburn hair cropped closely. Catching his stare, her eyes twinkled and she stared back, boldly, flashing a smile of amused surprise. He hesitated for a moment, and finally decided that she was definitely vaguely familiar to him. He tried to remember where they might have met and who she might possibly be. He gestured for a refill and searched his memory as his fingers stroked the clear moist cocktail glass held firmly in his grasp.
Her eyes continued to stare at him. She finally smiled and raising her glass, signaled him to join her with an inviting smile. Her deep, hypnotic, catlike green eyes compelled him. Rising silently, Frank carried his drink away from the bar and approached her booth. He placed his drink down on the table and smiling at her, said, "I'm Frank Martin."
She smiled again, "Oh, yes ... I know. You've been at the Country Club haven't you ... last weekend, I think?"
"What a memory ... you have," he responded still unable to recall what her name was. He lifted his drink and emptied it, wondering what new adventure he might have accidentally run into.
"I'm Julie . . . Julie Rollins," she offered. "Why don't you join me ... and have another drink? " "My pleasure," he beamed.
Sliding down into the booth opposite from her, Frank noticed that she had a glazed look in her eyes suggesting that she had had many more martinis than he. He also noted that she was even better looking than he had observed at a distance. Her breasts swelled out with an intriguing uplift against the thin fabric of her scanty dress. The cleft between her smooth full orbs was invitingly displayed. The tracery of blue veins visible under translucent skin made him eager to touch her ... to capture the touch of her skin in his hands. The air was filled with the odor of her heavy perfume and it permeated his nostrils.
"It's not really much fun to drink alone," she offered.
"I'm with you on that," he responded. "What're you drinking?"
"A martini, very, very dry," Julie answered, holding up her empty cocktail glass.
Frank beckoned the waitress and ordered two more. As they sat waiting for the drinks to arrive he noticed that she had a pointed, compelling face, bright and flaming eyes, and a beguiling expression that blatantly searched for excitement and pleasure. Her face was gaunt, almost too thin, and he wondered what proportion of food she ate compared to her consumption of alcohol. His thoughts were answered a few seconds later when their martinis were delivered. She quickly lifted her glass, almost automatically, and took a large gulp ... not savoring the taste or the bouquet, not really enjoying it, but, merely ingesting the liquid for the sake of getting the alcohol into her bloodstream.
"You know, I've been sitting here for almost an hour," she revealed.
Frank had noticed a diamond wedding band and a companion engagement ring on her finger. He ventured, "For your husband?"
"Oh, Christ, no!" she pronounced vehemently.
"I'm sorry it... if I said the ... wrong thing," he began.
"Don't worry about it ... it's not your problem," she interrupted, her voice softer as she leaned over and patted his arm. "O.K." was all he could reply.
"I'm not really bitchy," she said, "and that was bitch behavior."
"Well, I promise not to be so nosey," he replied, his lips parting to reveal his infectious grin.
"You're fun," she said. "Are you always so much...?"
"So much ... what?" he asked.
"So much ... fun ... to be with ... you know?" she explained, a strange, veiled expression on her face.
Frank suddenly felt her knee, under the table, as she moved it in an obvious gesture against the inside of his knee. She rocked it against him in slow up and down movements. His nerves tingled and small explosions shot through his body. First, there was a strong charge in his mid-section, followed by a contracting spasm in the muscles of his scrotum as it pulled his balls up against his body, communicating immediate readiness for sexual encounter. His blood quickened and was trapped tumescent, throbbingly, forcing his prick to alert, erect attention.
"Are you interested in some fun and ... games," he asked, pointedly. "I'm pretty good at them."
Her reply was quick, anxious, "I'm ready for all kinds of games ... all kinds ... especially if they don't have strict rules." Her voice was deep ... sexy and suggestive.
He was curious as to what kind of games she played. Desire was alive in her eyes. He tightened his expression and stared intently into her burning green eyes, leaning closely over the table. He moved her arm and placed his hand over hers.
"How . .. many players?" he asked, pensively. Her reply was candid, direct and without hesitation, "Two!"
She suddenly frowned and her eyes moved beyond Frank's shoulders. Her eyes flickered and were obviously distracted.
"Listen, honey ..." she spoke quickly, nervously. "The guy ... I've been waiting for ... is here. Call me ... I'm in the phone book. Mrs. Hank Rollins ... I'll be expecting your call."
"For some fun ... and games ... ?" he flashed.
"For two ... with no rules!" she affirmed, completing her reply just as Frank realized that another man had approached and was standing alongside their booth. She pressed her knee firmly into his with a final nudge and turned to the stranger.
"Well, hi Bernie," she said, switching her attention. "Bernie, darling ... this is ... Frank ..."
Frank began to rise, but quickly sank into his seat again; his deflating erection was still obvious. He extended his hand out to pretend cordiality to the tight-jawed, successful-looking older man of medium height who stood before them. The other accepted the introductions with feigned joviality. Frank exchanged small talk with him for a few moments. Julie left her seat and prepared to leave.
"Thank you so much for the drink ... and for keeping me company while I was waiting," she smiled, innocently.
Julie was sugary sweet. The desperate sexuality in her had vanished. A switch had occurred and she was now Julie Rollins, a lady. Her manners and aplomb, as she played the socialite, was unquestionable. Her transformation was incredible. She gave a virtuoso performance. His erection totally deflated, he was able to rise-it was safe now-and he said his farewell like the perfect gentleman.
Julie made her way through the table, towards the door, with Bernie trailing directly behind her. Frank sank back down in his seat watching their exit.
Julie's performance took on new heights. He could only detect the slightest trace of a weave in her graceful step, belying all the martinis she had consumed. Her curvaceous body rippled through her soft garments, silent flesh advertising its sexuality, free from confining elastic restrictions. Her slip, long and proportioned legs were exposed above the knees. She kept her back straight and held her head proud and erect. She could have been a famous personality--a glamorous magazine model or movie star-making a practiced exit with cameras all about, and Frank noticed that her figure, her walk and bearing caused many heads in the bar to turn and watch her. She reached the door and was gone. The performance was over.
My, god, what a woman: he thought. And she was actually propositioning me ... Julie Rollins. Julie Rollins? I'll be damned! Mrs. Hank Rollins ... the socialite wife of the advertising millionaire picking me up right here! Will I be sure to look her up! I bet she knows all the games I can play best ... and she's even looking for a new playmate.
His pleasant thoughts were suddenly interrupted. In front of him stood Roger Boyer, wobbling on unsteady legs, his red face and swollen eyeballs more flushed than usual. He held a near empty drink in his hand and his words ran together as he tried to speak.
"Forget it, Frank ... you'll never score with that one," he said, knowingly.
Frank looked up at the Assistant Director of Rolling Meadow Golf Club and he pretended confusion, ignorance.
"What are you talking about?" he began.
"I'm talking about Julie Rollins ... and you'll never get into that tight little cunt," he replied directly.
"Oh ... how ... what do you mean?" Frank was caught off guard.
Boyer leaned over to the table, his voice close to Frank's ear, "She's nothing ... but a prick teaser," he leered. "I'd thought you'd like to know ... so you wouldn't waste any time ... or money on her, that's all!"
"So you couldn't make it with her, eh?" Frank leered.
Frank realized too late that this was the wrong thing to say to the drunk man standing before him, as he noticed his effect on Boyer's face.
The latter turned scarlet as anger, an insult to his virility, a stab at his pride, a put down of his manhood, anger showed itself all over his face.
"Listen . . . you," he stammered. "If I ever would've wanted that ... I could have her by snapping my fingers. She'd come running ... and jump into my bed! That whore's a pushover ... just like all cunts!" His speech was muddled and he was dazed with drink.
"Sure ... sure ... I know. You can have any piece you want," Frank soothed.
"Damn right," the drunk replied victoriously. He took a long breath and peering intently said, slowly, "Oh ... hey ... you've been accepted into the club ... you're a-member now. So ... there's the little detail of your membership fee. You'll have to cough up a hundred and fifty dollars with your acceptance form as part of your first payment."
Frank was delighted, initially, but his pleasure was short lived. He saw his bank balance dance in front of him and realized that he didn't even have the required portion of the first payment for membership in the club he wanted so badly to join.
He remained calm and composed and replied quickly. "That's great ... I'll mail it right in ... no problem."
"That's fine," Boyer replied. "If we don't receive back the acceptance within ten days we figure there's no interest ... or money and cancel the application."
"Well, don't worry about me. You'll have it in a day or two," Frank emphasized, rising from his seat. "Guess, I'll be seeing you at the club ...
Anger stormed inside him, but he somehow managed to contain it as he made his way silently out of the cocktail lounge. All he could think of was how satisfying it would be to shove his fist into Roger Boyer's lewd, foul, flushed, drunken face.
He relaxed once behind the wheel of his car and his thoughts returned to Julie Rollins, as he made his way to the new apartment development which sat three miles from Rolling Meadow Golf Club.
Here I've met a gorgeous hunk like Julie and I've got no money to make things right. Women in her bracket cost plenty to get into her. Drinks ... dinner ... plush motels ... she may even expect some nifty trinkets. If I could only set it up at her place ... that would be perfect. But ... her husband ... what if he came walking in on us ... Oh, how I want to get into her cunt ... and no rules, she said ... I wonder . . . she might even like fellatio . . . and it's been so long since someone has sucked my cock!
The first time came vividly back to him. He was a camp counselor during the summer while he attended high school. Across the lake was a camp for girls and he had fallen in love, or so he had thought, with one of the female counselors. They had met each night and had spent all their free time together. She was quite experienced and had introduced him to many pleasurable new experiences.
He remembered how firm and well-set her small but shapely breasts had been and how often he had held them in his hands. He had naturally progressed down to that mysterious region between her legs where the mystery of female sexuality was located. Eventually, she had allowed him to explore this unknown area and under her direction, he had masturbated her to orgasm. He vividly recalled how painful his erection felt as his throbbing penis tried to push forth from his jeans. She had made it perfectly clear that they would never go all the way, yet his need and desire increased each time they were together. It was as if Frank was there, again, on the shore of the lake, massaging her clitoris with his finger.
"Oh, God, Frank! I can feel it ... I'm starting to cum! Oh, more . . . more . . . harder . . . faster! OOOOoohh gggoooddd! Mmmmmm Cuuuummmmm-iinnnggg ... I'm CCCuuuuuuuuuummmmiiinnnggg!"
He was worried that someone might hear her hysterical moaning and his hand and finger was tired. He was afraid that they might be caught and that he would lose his job. "SSSssshhh," he whispered. "We have to keep quiet or we'll be caught."
"I don't care ... it feels so good ... it was fantastic, Frank," she sighed contentedly.
Frank's cock throbbed with desire and his body shook with readiness and they lay nestled in one another's arms.
She suddenly raised her arm and her hand moved down between his legs.
"Well . . . now it's your turn!" she stated, as her hand searched in the moonlight for the buttons of his fly.
"How are you . .. going to do it?" he whispered, anxiously.
"I'll show you a new way," she said. "A way I'm sure you'll enjoy!" Frank leaned over and helped her with the but- tons, and he slid down his trousers as she reached inside to grasp his hot, throbbing penis. She brought it out of his underpants and held it tightly in her sweaty hand.
He shuddered with a slight twinge of pain, as she manipulated the foreskin back, exposing the red, blood-engorged head. He could hardly control himself as he felt her fingers moving deftly over his cock and working their way down into his balls. She began massaging the length of his penis with her hand, moving up and down with slow, even, deliberate strokes.
Suddenly, she hunched her body and brought her face down to his loins. She touched him with her face and he felt her tongue running over his rod. The hot moistness of her honeyed mouth was spread over his cock and soon her smooth lips were caressing it. It suddenly came to him in a flash. He realized what she was going to do!
His body convulsed with the first thought of his knowledge of what she intended. Vibrant currents shot through him; his head reeled and he felt dizzy. The sensations in his cock were more than he could stand, yet they became more and more intense. Her head was buried between his legs and he could no longer see it in the darkness.
She had moved her body and was kneeling on the ground between his legs. Frank, instinctively, moved his hips forward and arched his body in order to give her free access to his lust-hardened cock. She held his prick in her hands and covering it with her mouth slowly inserted it between her lips. She began to suck in regular even beats. Up and sown, slowly, ever so slowly, her head and body began to rock in rhythm to her sucking motion. As she reached the top of the up-stroke, she gave her head a slight twist, her tongue laving him, as the moist, rubbery head alone remained enclosed in her mouth.
Then, on the down-stroke, her active wet lips slid back and over the shaft, taking most of his organ all the way back into her throat cavity.
He was at the bursting point and felt he had lost all control. He felt the tingling of exquisite torture as she began to suck harder, increasing gradually the rhythm of her motions. She was, indeed experienced, and it was as if she sensed the exact motion and rhythm needed, and Frank felt that his penis was expanding in length and circumference, even though he had decided that he was well beyond the longest erection he had ever had. Occasionally, she would hesitate and allow her teeth to scrape the full length of his extended phallus. The sensations raced through him, burning in his balls and producing a searing, electric jolt at the base of his penis. It was almost as if he was on fire and he knew that it was the pressure of the semen, surging for release as he thrust his hips up at her, countering her deliberate movements.
He squinted in an effort to find her face ... to see the movement of her mouth on his stiffened rod. He could barely make out the thick, rounded staff on the upward, twisting movement of her head, then, as her head moved down on him, he saw and felt that his whole penis was absorbed into her mouth and throat. It seemed impossible to him and he reached down to put his fingers around the base of his cock just as her mouth arrived there. He could feel the moistness and smoothness of her puckered lips against his thumb and forefinger. It was true ... she was taking all of him!
It felt fantastic! It was marvelous! He moaned with the sensuous agony of nearing climax, of jetting ejaculation and contracted relief. His body was covered with sweat and his throat felt dry and raspy like sandpaper. His mouth moved up and down, making inarticulate and inaudible animal sounds and gestures.
His penis felt like a balloon, growing larger and expanding as it flies higher into the air and he senses that like a balloon he would eventually burst. He was ready to explode! he gasped aloud- at the thought. What would happen when he began spewing? What would she do? He didn't know what would happen, but he could no longer think about it. He was almost there! His body rocked back and forth as his hips lunged forward, thrusting his cock up at her face. It was almost time ... he was just about there. The powerful pumping sensations had started in the root, somewhere near his rectum. Now ... almost. He was so close ... he could feel it. Now!
Firecrackers burst in his brains. A screeching wild animal cry escaped from his tortured lungs and throat, as he felt the hot stream of semen jet from his balls along the length of his cock in a rushing stream, bursting from him in a spewing tide into her moist and eager mouth. She swallowed the white, viscous fluid ... all of it. He could even hear her desperately gulping the semen down her throat as she struggled to take it all in. She continued sucking until every last drop of his hot, sweet semen had been emptied from the now deflating head of his prick. She nuzzled and licked gently, as he gave a final moan and fell back onto the ground. She remained for a few moments on her knees before him, his cock resting in her mouth. Slowly, she shifted her body and freed his deflating cock from her wet mouth. She rose and leaning over him with her lips glistening, kissed him deeply and fully on the mouth. He could taste his pungent semen in her sweet lips and in the cavity of her mouth.
"Jesus," he sighed. "You sucked me dry!"
"How did you like it... ?" she queried.
"That's the most ... greatest ... there's nothing like it," he fumbled.
"I knew you would," she replied, triumphantly.
The summer passed too quickly. They had several evenings like this one and she taught Frank that he could send her to explosive heights of sexual pleasure with his tongue. She never failed to have multiple orgasms.
Two summers had passed this way before Frank discovered that he was not the only boy in her life. Her talents had spread themselves over the cocks of all the boys in her small town. Frank was shocked at the realization that her lips had sucked so many other cocks and that she was full of the semen of others.
His car approached the apartment development, and his thoughts naturally turned to his wife, Alice. Frank did love her, sincerely, but he was so confused about their sex life together. There was something missing. He knew it, however, he couldn't figure out how to remedy the situation.
Alice is such a cold, dull type when it comes to sex, .he thought. No matter what, I can't get any kind of a passionate response from her. There always seems to be some dumb excuse ... I really want to make love to her ... love without restrictions ... but she won't let me. So, it's always the same old story ... I end up practically having to rape her ... to get any sex at all ... and I'm so frustrated that I drink too much most of the time and treat her like some wild animal. The routine never seems to change ... it's a vicious circle ... and I'd really like to fuck her ... every possible way ... but, no, she won't let me ... and we always have to limit it to the same old way ... and that's not even very often ... not often enough for me. Jesus! Alice's got everything going for her ... a gorgeous, sexy body that should be eager for love ... and yet, she refuses to give in and share it with me.
I've got to do something about all this! Damn it, I don't want to feel like I've got to get it somewhere else ... but I'm just not satisfied. Alice is not giving me enough. No matter what Roger Boyer says ... I bet that Julie Rollins is ready to fly ... and readily available! And she likes to play without any rules ... Damn it, anyway! I want to get into her ... and I'm going to call her up and make it ... yes, I'm going to do it!
As soon as he opened the front door, Frank noticed the new console resting in the corner of the living room. Alice greeted him with an unusually warm kiss, but it was, of course, lost on him in his teeming fury.
"What the hell is this, Alice! I've told you a hundred times we're in no position to buy anything like this now!" he yelled.
"But..." she began.
"But nothing," he interrupted. "We've finally been accepted into the Golf Club and I have to come up with one hundred and fifty dollars that I don't have and now ... this ... !"
Alice had tried to anticipate his anger and she had prepared one of his favorite dishes for dinner. She had put on one of her best outfits and had a pitcher of martinis all ready to serve.
"But Frank ... we can manage, I'm sure ... I can help with the bills ... I'll help pay for the console and the club by getting a job. I'll go back to work, maybe only part-time ... for a while . . . and our worries will be over ..." Alice tried to be convincing.
"You know I don't like the idea of my wife working," he glared. "We've been through this before. No wife of mine is going to have to work and that's it!"
He eagerly finished the martini which she handed him. the arguing continued. The dinner remained in the oven and dried out as they continued to shout but the martini pitcher was soon empty. Alice finally tossed the burned food into the trash and they sank back onto the sofa with the clor rectangle glowing before them. Frank was flushed and could not make out a clear image. He persisted that she was not going to work but she continued to insist that it was their only solution. He finally shrugged his shoulders and gave in defeated ... and exasperated.
"O.K., O.K.! Have it your way! Go back to work! Only, shut up about it. I've heard enough about it!" he yelled.
He rose, unsteadily, and wobbled over to the console, silencing it for the night. "Let's go," he ordered. "I want to fuck you ... at least you're one thing I've got that is all paid for!"
"You don't have to talk to me that way," she quipped.
"I'll talk to you any way I please!" he snapped.
"Why don't you go into the bathroom and take a shower? You've had too much to drink."
"The only thing I need now is a piece of ass! I'm horny ... and there's only one way of curing that!"
Alice shrank back and he picked up the remains of the martini pitcher and hobbled toward the bedroom. "C'mon, we're goin to bed!" he ordered again.
Going into the bathroom, Alice slipped into the shower, taking her time, in hopes that after a while Frank might fall asleep. After drying herself, she discovered that she had forgotten to bring in her nightgown; it was hanging in the closet of their bedroom. Draping a towel around her she quietly stepped into the bedroom and headed for the closet.
"C'mere!" he shouted. Frank was lying on the bed, all his clothes removed, his hardened penis waving above him. She stared at it as she passed the bed. It was immense and frightening ... as always.
"I have to put on my nightgown," she mumbled.
"What the hell for!" he snapped. "You don't need it!"
"Please, Frank ... you're drunk!" she exclaimed.
He jumped up from the beef quickly, tearing the towel away from her, exposing her total nakedness and grabbed her in his strong, masculine arms.
"I'm not so drunk that ... I can't fuck you," he rasped into her ear.
"Please, Frank . . . you're hurting me . . . let me go!" she pleaded, turning away her head to avoid his hot, alcohol soaked mouth. "You're my husband ... you're supposed to make gentle ... tender ... soothing love to me."
"Don't tell me what fm supposed to do! I'm supposed to fuck you ... because that's what I want to do, so get into that bed!" His face was flushed and his penis ached with desire.
The usual nightmare once again began for Alice. Frank was not to be put off. He took her, brutally.
He forced her to the bed and shoved her down upon it, flinging himself on top of her, pinning her body to the soft mattress. Then, he clawed and mauled her breasts with his strong hands, bruising the tender flesh of her body, causing her to wince in pain. Now, he concentrated on her nipples ... biting and sucking them as his hands and fingers continued to knead and pinch her. The nipples came alive in his mouth, hardening and extending, as she was involuntarily aroused. Once again, she felt the tiny current of sensation charge in her loins.
Frank's clumsy fingers fumbled with her clitoris, succeeding only in causing her some irritation; finally, in oblivious, passionate, silent fury and confusion, he had plunged his immense, erect cock into her dry and protesting vagina, humping her as he would a cheap whore, not interested in whether she was aroused ... enjoying it ... experiencing a climax or not. His body was a machine, fucking away at her, tearing in and out of her vagina with complete abandon, ignoring her pleas and her cries of pain, intent only on his own perverse sexual satisfaction and driving forward to a spewing orgasmic release, almost as completely mechanical as one administered by hand.
It was finally all over. Grunting his satisfaction, he rolled over on his side and fell deeply asleep, immediately, leaving his wife in pain and frustration. As usual, there had been no pleasure in it for her; he had not made an effort to share this with her and she had not been an active part of their sexual encounter. He had merely used her as a receptacle for his sperm ... filling her cunt with his semen ... and falling into a heavy, drunken sleep.
Alice covered her pillow with tears, pouring out her misery and frustration. Her body was racked with pain and she felt it was- almost more than she could bear. She reflected on the tiny glow of arousal which she had felt, again, and wondered if that tiny spark of sexual desire would ever be fanned into a roaring flame. She believed that she was capable of a deep and complete sex life ... but wondered if it would ever truly begin for her ...
As she drifted off into a restless, disturbed sleep, one happy thought passed before her. The next day ... that very morning ... she would begin looking for a job, again. She was confident of her skills and knew that she could handle business responsibilities. She didn't want to get trapped inside a bank all day and decided she would try to get a job in a more exciting, glamorous office ...