Exposing Amy Ch. 05

All the while he coerced and bullied me, not once even trying to seduce me. I was thankful for his crude hateful approach, as a softer seduction would suggest some form of sensitivity or care but what I got from him was,

"Do you want fucking or not?"

The less I complained, the more he abused and the more he abused, the more malice and hate was generated. Moore became more emboldened by my capitulation, I don't know if he realised I was 'getting off on it' but he certainly realised I was not walking away, or he may have toned it down otherwise.

The bitch was not leaving.

The repugnant sex which followed, was not the best part of the disgusting scenario. The real eroticism, the complete humiliation and degradation, lay in undressing for the most awful man in the world, of being naked before this loathsome man. For me the act of lying back, opening my legs and exposing the ultimate prize, the defenceless pussy of his lifelong enemy's slut wife, was a moment of fulfilment. He stood between my legs, his manhood big, menacing and bending upwards above my exposed and vulnerable pudenda. He knelt between my legs staring lustfully at what was soon to be his, my labia dripping with wetness and involuntarily flowering open to accept him.

I found the, who-what-why-where, to be all consuming, we hated each other and yet the animal lust for sexual satisfaction on his part and for sexual humiliation and dishonour on mine, gave the air a hostile and spiteful feel.

Thankfully he was huge.

This fantasy and sordid scenario would have not worked if he had a tiny dick. Thank God that this repulsive pig, this vindictive and repugnant animal, had a gorgeously big cock with which to defile and humiliate me.

My heart was pounding, my pulses racing and my heart threatened to burst from my chest. The stunning shock of what I was doing, the self-loathing creating an excitement in me that I couldn't contain. The whole squalid and foul trauma was sensational, for the first time in my life I experienced what breathtaking literally meant, I couldn't breathe with the staggering enormity of what I was doing.

Pushing me back onto a dirty table top, Moore stepped between my legs and touched my swollen vagina. He parted my inner lips which were slick with my shame, whilst holding his huge upwardly bent cock in his other hand.

"I've wanted to stick it to you for fucking ages you slag and that's what I'm gonna do," he hissed.

I looked down transfixed, I simply did not have the will to look away, I needed to watch, I needed to live the moment that this obnoxious bastard took me.

With a slight feeling of pressure, I watched as his angry purple head nudged apart my pink lips, which then wrapped themselves around his dick head like a lovers embrace. He pushed forward and I watched mesmerised, as the thick, turgid, veiny cock slowly disappeared inside me.

It was the most revolting and exciting thing I had experienced for years.

He grunted, rutted and banged into me in the crudest way. Once he was inside me the whole sorry scene simply became about fucking. As you know, that was not the important part for me, yes letting a man such as this do it to me mattered greatly but to complete my shame, I wanted to look into his face and into his eyes as the repugnant act progressed. I never wanted to lose perception of who it was I was committing this gross act with and I desperately didn't want to get any pleasure from it (outside of that which was totally unavoidable) and certainly I didn't want to orgasm with this man, that would defeat the whole point of this.

So I wouldn't let myself cum, thankfully Stephen Moore was more than ready and was soon showing all the signs of impending orgasm. He rammed himself violently up inside me and holding himself completely buried in me, he began to ejaculate deep inside my worthless pussy.

I was so incredibly close to failing in my quest and to climaxing on this huge cock but I had just managed to hold out. The feeling of my tight opening and my wet labia opening then closing as his huge cock pulled from me, combined with the sexual frustration at being tantalising close to orgasm, gave me the most gratifying feeling of worthlessness.

As his river of cum ran from me, I was in heaven/hell.

The true eroticism for me returned at the end of proceedings. I found the humiliation and shame at my disgraceful behaviour, come flooding back at the moment of rising and asking if there was somewhere to empty myself.

"Nah, just do it there can't ya," he sneered, meaning for me to just stand before him and open my legs and to give him the crude filthy pleasure, of watching his cum fall from my swollen lips.

So I did.

I cringed and wanted the ground to open up, as I wantonly opened my legs for him. His cum ran from between my lips and from between my shameless legs, dripping revoltingly onto the hard dirty floor.

I suddenly and desperately wanted to dress myself to cover my nudity but in reality I was hesitating and standing naked before him for as long as possible, whilst pretending the opposite. This was a one-off and I intended to glean as much degradation from this vile incident as possible. I bent to retrieve my bra from the floor, knowingly and deliberately letting my saggy tits swing and sway before him. I bent again to pick up my dress but this time I had turned my back to him in the full knowledge that as I spread my legs for balance, he could leer at my ass and gaze between my unfaithful legs at the cum-dripping, crimson, swollen mess that I had just given to him.

I turned, I bent and I twisted to give him as many views of my body as I could and deliberately paraded my nakedness to him for as long as possible, my vagina alive and pulsating with humiliation.

"Close the fucking door on your way out whore," he sneered.

I was so tremendously turned on I couldn't help but strive to humiliate myself further. I offered to suck him off if he would take me home.

An offer he rejected with contempt.

I reached for my discarded panties but was beaten to them by my husband's enemy. He brought my underwear to his face, crudely smelling and licking my crotch.

"You were certainly ready coming here you slag, he sneered. I think I will keep these as a souvenir, maybe even return them to that cunt of a husband of yours when the mood takes me. I could always tell him how you begged and pleaded for my cock," he laughed.

He unceremoniously told me to get out.

I left the ramshackle building he called home and found myself in the street. It was quite a remote area and the street was deserted. In that empty lane, after my walk of shame, after dressing in front of him, I came up to the first streetlight. I slumped against the lamppost and plunged my hand up my skirt. My knees buckled and my body sagged further against the wall. I smeared his filthy cum over my smooth pudenda, then with no more than four or five gentle circular rubs over my incredibly engorged and as yet unsatisfied clitoris, I came.

In the deserted street I screamed and cried aloud, luckily there was no one to hear me. The climax that hit me, shook my whole body and unable to contain my humiliation and shame, as my crushing orgasm ripped through me, I collapsed onto the dirty cobbles.

I sat in the filthy deserted street and cried.

Wailing, heart-rending sobs came from the figure slumped on the ground, as my hand caressed the foul mess that was my vagina. I cried the tears of anger, of frustration, of bitterness and of sexual delirium. As I curled up against the wall, I was wracked with regret, remorse and self-loathing and as all these emotions washed over me, consumed me and ate me from within, I was so overwhelmed with hate and desire, that I hoped someone would pass and witness the sorry scene. As I sat fully exposed in the deserted street, I had no control over my actions, I plunged my hand violently into my ravaged pussy with such a fevered passion that almost without realising it, I fisted myself.

With my hand completely buried inside my out-of-control vagina, I came again, my fingers tearing at my inner flesh. I touched my own cervix and wriggled my fingers to stimulate my entire pussy and twisted my hand to harshly abuse my soft velvet walls, as I screamed out yet another all consuming orgasm.

Paul continues

Amy came home that night looking like the very thing she was - a well fucked slut. We immediately went to bed and as I lay on the bed my wife took off her dress.

She was panty less.

Amy climbed onto the bed with me and ordered me to lie back, after doing so, my whore wife straddled my face. I was looking directly at her battered and swollen cunt from merely inches away. Amy used her fingers to spread herself, and then lowered her pussy onto my miserable and sad face.

It was not until I was already tasting and eating her messy cum filled pussy, that she whispered the fateful words.

"Stephen Moore."

I was devastated, yet instantly grew even harder. I had no option but to snake out my tongue and both feel and taste the sloppy mess that was between her legs. I say I had no choice, this was not because my now dominant wife ordered me to - no, I had no choice because my sickness and obscene perversion compelled me. It demanded of me that I suck from my wife the foul semen of the man I hated most in all the world. As I licked her sore and battered lips and let the remnants of her filthy fuck run into my mouth, Amy proved her genius yet again.

"It's too late to get his cum out of me to do any good. I will be knocked up by now, given the amount of times Steven Moore fucked me tonight and given the amount of cum his huge cock has shot into me." She lied.

I was crushed.

"I didn't take the pill so far this month, so I could surprise you with this little gift," she laughed.

For a few days I was as miserable as sin, yet at the same time the gut-wrenching and nauseous revulsion I felt, also made my cock stir with arousal. To watch my wife as she grew heavy with my nemesis' baby, would torture me for the rest of my life, yet at the same time it could be the greatest humiliation/turn-on ever.

Amy knew that being bred by this man above all others, would be one step too far but she would offer me no comfort or solace, she deliberately and constantly taunted me with her being pregnant by him.

Amy concludes

I knew that eventually Paul would be released from his terrible torment and crushing torture. When I had my period, he would be overwhelmed with relief, then as the dust settled, he would realise that I had been lying to him about not taking the pill and being bred by Moore.

But hey, let the bastard suffer for the next three weeks!!