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"I want you, Laura. I want to make love to you. And I want to fuck you," he said into her mouth, hearing her virtually pant into his. "Do you want that, too, Laura?"
She took his hand and placed it under her skirt, and guided it to her saturated slit. "No, John, no I don't. I don't want all of that."
He tried to pull back, perhaps he had misinterprted the signals. But she both kept her hand on his hard cock and wrapped her wrist around his hand that was exploring the perimeter of her needy cunt.
She leaned into him and bit his earlobe gently, nibbling on it, blowing into his ear. "Don't make love to me. I'm a married woman. This has nothing to do with making love. Just....." she let the words drag out.
".......Fuck me."
John hastily walked to the bar and made arrangements for the open bottle, and yet another, to be delivered to his room. The bartender gave him a knowing look as he escorted Laura from the restaurant.
No dinner tonight, the barkeep mused.
*****************
Laura departed John's room at dawn the next morning, twelve hours after she arrived.
She smiled to herself, walking through the lobby, her clothes wrinkled and her wild hair askew. Laura was acutely aware of getting wide-eyed looks from men this morning. Today, she reveled in them, not the least bit embarrassed or self-conscious.
Her thong was missing. It had been ripped to threads in the elevator by John before they had even reached his room.
Her body was covered in dried cum, her throat dry from repeatedly deep-throating the handsome, well-hung visitor. Her once-neglected pussy no longer fit under that category.
She was sore all over, but exhilarated. Her cunt had been stretched by not only a thick, talented cock, but also by the neck of the wine bottle that he had stuffed into her while taking her virgin ass.
Her jaw was stiff from the brutal face-fucking she had endured.
Her nipples, always the telltale, protruded a half-inch, having been tugged and twisted and sucked roughly. The way she secretly loved.
Laura had been savagely fucked, tossed like a rag doll, treated like a street whore.
Which was exactly what she wanted, what she needed. A fantasy lived out, with someone she would never see again.
John was right. It was better this way.
Sometimes a good Catholic girl just needs a hard one-night fucking in the name of education.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousabout 5 years agoMeans no forgiveness, absolution or penance and he gets the divorce she showed she wanted and she no longer has anyone who calls her mom. Great outcome.
pixandwordsover 10 years ago"...pulling the tiny thong tight against the puffy lips of her trimmed pussy, which was already glistening with a slight dew of desire..."
Oh yeah! Here's a writer who understands the erotic impact of creating detailed word pictures. Excellent.
Anonymousover 10 years agoHow some women on the first meeting/date are hotter than a pepper sprout... then normality sets in... smiling... Oh those Catholic girls!!! Thanks for the flashback
