Peter and Veronica

'You know fucking well I'm going to stop you,' he snapped suddenly. 'And you fucking want me to.'

'Oh, you're sure of that are you?' she span round as she spoke, shooting him a severe look as she came face to face with the man who had taken her virtue. 'Well try me.'

'What do you want me to do, beg?' his voice rose as he spoke giving a hint as to the desperation and uncertainty that gripped him.

'Now that's a thought,' she replied with a giggle. 'You on your hands and knees pleading with me to indulge your filthy little fantasies.'

'I'm not going to beg,' he said dismissively, as if the very notion displeased him. After all he was man and for her femininity was his masculinity.

'That's a pity baby,' she purred with mock sincerity. 'I quite like the thought of making you grovel. And I bet you would fucking the love the view down there, you dirty fucker.'

They stood looking at each other. His mind was a mess of lust and confusion, hers fully focused on luring him into her trap. The air around them crackled, the desire, the passion, the lust could not be denied, but even so she wove her spell, spinning her web, pulling him further and further into the snare which tightened around him.

'So if you're not going to beg, what are you going to do sugar?' she moved her face closer to his. His eyes studied her full dark lips, her sparkling eyes which shone with an intoxicating mixture of lust, power and sex.

He studied her closely, still unknowing of her intentions and drunk on lust. The atmosphere electrified around them, her breathing slowed causing her cleavage to rise and fall hypnotically. He felt years of tension, of frustration, of want. He felt hungry and sinful. He would wait no longer.

Suddenly he lent in and forced his open mouth forward. She raised her hands as his lips clamped round hers, his tongue down her wet throat as the words of denial seeped out. She tried to push him away, a weak shove that did little to halt his advancing body. If anything it drew him closer by reinforcing his strength. He had given himself to his lust, to his desire and now it consumed him. She tried to close her legs together but he had already manoeuvred his knee between hers. As his tongue raped her mouth, his right hand groped her large firm breast, pulling it from her tight dress. It spilled out gratefully, the soft flesh falling into his firm grip, his fingers squeezing her erect nipple in a way that caused her to let out a barely audible squeal from the mouth that grappled with his. She pushed him again as her tongue fought with his. Her legs clamped around him, the move releasing the slightest hint of the smell of her sex as it slowly soaked the nylon of her gusset. As it filled his nostrils he felt the last vestige of sanity disappear. He broke off the kiss suddenly, lowering his head to her soft breast and taking her nipple in her mouth. As he moved she remained pinned between him and the wall, her body still balanced on the edge of the desk. Her stiletto clad feet kicked wildly round his body as she maintained the pretence of denial.

'No,' she gasped eventually.' No.'

Deaf to her protests, he sucked on her nipple, flicking his tongue over the bud in a way that caused her to omit a barely disguised murmur of gratitude. His right hand grabbed her hair from behind and jerked her head backwards. The left reached down between her flailing legs, and groped at her crotch. He felt the wetness instantly, the sensation causing him to lift his head and lower his gaze. It glistened when he saw it. The sheer nylon, its dark sheen stretched over that tiny triangle of hair about which he drooled. The dim light hit the moisture and it sparkled. His cock hardened as the damp spot grew. He smelled it, the sweet intoxicating scent of her sex, it grew further. He licked his lips, still the wet patch grew, still the smell intensified, still his cock hardened.

'No you fucker,' she called out loudly, her voice containing the clear sound of triumph that she could not suppress. 'No you dirty cunt.'

He looked her in the eyes, letting her see the madness to which he had succumbed. He had given himself to it, he had embraced it, and now he revelled in. She had conjured it from within her, this siren, this slut, this goddess. She had driven him to it, had lured him, had teased him. And she loved it, she loved knowing how much he wanted her, loved now how mad she could drive him. She wanted to be conquered and ravished, she wanted to be fucked and used.

'What you going to do? Rape me?' She taunted him quietly, in a way designed not to be heard outside the confines of the room. 'Are you going to rape me, you dirty fucker?'

He grabbed at her crotch, his fingers grasping at the soaking material. She felt his arm stiffen as the fabric tightened round the tops of her thighs before the tension disappeared with the sound of the material ripping. She felt the cold air against her enflamed vagina. He grabbed his belt and pulled it off him in one long motion. His trousers hit the floor with a bump, leaving a bulging pair of boxer shorts which quickly fell away to reveal the hard throbbing cock that stole her virtue. She looked at his erect length as it stood proudly between them. It was his weapon, strong and true. It was magnificent and beautiful, the source of her desires and her needs. It was all that was masculine, and in being do it reminded her of the femininity that seeped from every pore.

'Are you gonna rape me with your big cock,' she taunted again, her feigned protests designed to see how far he'd go, designed to see how badly he wanted her.

She lent back on her hand and pulled down the top of her dress to reveal her other sumptuous breast which feel out to stand magnificently next to the other. She raised her legs, placing them in his hands, forcing her dress up round her waist, leaving her legs naked save for the laddered tights that clung to her skin.

'Rape me you cunt,' It was more a demand than an objection, but to him it made difference. He was too far gone to care now, he wanted it too much, he needed it too much. He slammed his cock inside her, an act she greeted with a squeal of ecstasy.

'No,' she cried, as her body reacted with encouragement, forcing his dick deeper into her womb.

'No,' she squealed as he thrust it in again

even deeper.

It was the way she greeted each thrust, somehow managing to maintain control of the lust that consumed her too. It became her victory cry even as she found herself conquered. To have inspired it, to have created it, to have caused it to erupt so spectacularly. This was her gift, this was her skill, this was her art. To have driven a good man bad, to have corrupted him as he corrupted her.

It was senseless and animalistic. It was brutal and rough. It was so out of character and yet so them. Quiet, sensible, dependable her, looking like the sexiest slut in the land, being fucked within an inch of her life by the stud she had seduced and ensnared. Nice, reasonable, thoughtful him slipping away from normality and decency to be driven so crazy by his mistress that he would risk everything to take her. Risking his marriage, his name, even risking his liberty for this beautiful slut.

It was good. It was great. It was so, so, so fucking great. Covered in sweat, breathless, knee trembling, hardcore fucking. The kind she wanted more than any other, the kind he needed. Sex devoid of love or consideration, selfish and arrogant, glorious and thoughtless. They had surrendered to their emotions and needs, they had surrendered to their desires. She pushed her cunt on to his cock, pulling him deeper into her.

They watched each other as they fucked. His eyes were like steel, bristling with the power and strength of the animal inside him, burning with desire having willingly surrendered to hunger he felt. Hers burnt with jubilation, with ecstasy, with triumph, with sex. Their eyes urged them on as she emitted her yelps and squeals and that chorus of objections. She licked her fingers as he pulled her legs even further apart. She quickly thrust her hand down to her clit and started rubbing it furiously. As he grabbed her legs, ladders shot up and down her tights. Her dress was now more than a elaborate belt around her belly above which her unfettered breasts gyrated in time with his pounding. She got louder as he got deeper, louder and deeper and louder and deeper. She felt his balls bouncing against her arsehole in time with his thrusts. His big cock in her tight pussy, it felt so fucking good. A sexy bitch, an insatiable stud, a wanton tart, an alpha male, a femme fatale, a very bad man. Her cunt tightened, his cock twitched.

'Rape me you cunt, you fucker, you prick,' she was screaming now, screaming and cuming, screaming and cuming. Her pussy tightened around his hard cock, setting off a instant response as she felt it jerk inside her

'You slut, you bitch, you fucking whore,' he replied loudly as the sweat broke upon him. He thrust his cock even deeper, so hard it hurt but she revelled in the intoxicating mixture of pleasure and pain. She came, this vixen, this slut, this minx. She came as the juices flowed from her, she came as he fucked the shit out of her pussy. So fucking good, so fucking good. His cock jerked again.

'Rape me you cheating bastard,' screaming and cuming, screaming and cuming, spurring him on.

She pushed her cunt on to his cock, pulling him deeper into her. The orgasm hit her harder and harder, so intense, so wet, so carnal, so fucking amazing. And knowing how she had created it, how she had seduced and lured and driven wild, this beautiful beast that ignored her objections, knowing that she alone could drive a man so wild, so mad, so insane, knowing that within her lurked, the sexiest, horniest bitch, it made her cum even more.

The jet of hot spunk shot suddenly into her hungry cunt. It splashed against the walls of her womb, it splashed into her pussy. More and more, as he came, his head thrown back as he rejoiced at the elation he felt at the act to which he had so long denied himself. Every word, every letter, every text, every e-mail, foreplay, foreplay for this act. He knew she had trapped him, had poisoned him, had seduced him, but that made him want her even more. His dirty little secret, his uber-vixen, his wanton mistress. He pumped his hot sperm into this filthiest of muses and he revelled in his gall, his audacity. She was his prize. He came as she came, came like never before, harder, stronger, longer, just as he had fucked her...

Eventually their thrusting, sweating panting bodies came to an halt. They looked at each other, two red, panting faces, exchanging almost curious stares. He took a few step backwards, as if the realisation of what had happened had finally hit him. He had lost control. He had literally lost control of his senses, of his emotions, of his body. She had said no and yet he had taken her, she had pushed him away and yet he had overpowered her. In those few moments he forgot how she had spurred him on with her body, how she had revelled in the act, how her objection had been no more than this big beautiful bitches battle cry.

She got up slowly, her legs trembling slightly as she stood on those high heels. She looked at him strangely, as if in shock over what had just happened. Her eyes slowly looked down, seeing the tights that were now more holes than nylon, seeing her naked breasts as if for the first time. His eyes followed hers in looking at the silver cross that hung between her pink orbs as if a sign as to the guilt he thought he should be facing. His mind began to fill with panic, surely he couldn't have and yet he had been driven mad by his lusts.

She raised her hands slowly, pushing them back behind her. The dress fell suddenly, leaving her naked but for the ripped tights and the heels that still remained tied to her shins. She took the two steps towards him and looked him right in the eye, her expression silent and unforgiving. He returned her stare for what felt like an eternity, wishing her to say something, to say anything, unable to see past the worse case scenario.

The slap came unexpectedly. Hitting his left cheek, leaving a painful sting and the echo of the limp contact.

'That's for ignoring my objections,' she said forcefully. 'And so this.'

As her face changed into a smile, she lowered herself, maintaining eye contact as she sank to her knees. She opened her mouth and licked her dark lips, leaving the hint of the lipstick on her tongue. It flicked out towards his tender shaft and caressed the tip with the a whisper of a contact. It felt so good, the touch of her tongue on his dick that remained smothered in her juices. As she pulled it away a thread of glistening liquid came with it, stretching to bridge the gap between her mouth and the large flaccid cock that hung from his crotch. Her tongue brought the fluid to her top lip and left a silver trail as she ran it from one side to the other before her mouth opened to envelope the bulbous member. He felt it begin to harden as his ears filled with the slurping and squelching she emitted as she hungrily sucked his cock, lubricated as it was with their nectar. Her fingers stroked the balls that hung down like over ripe fruit whilst others nudged his anus. He got harder and harder as he felt the strength and the lust within him. He watched his prize, his corruption, as she watched him. He fanned out his fingers and pushed them into the fields of her hair. He gripped tightly and thrust his cock deeper into her mouth, before he pushed her away, just far enough for his once again erect member to spring up forcefully and interrupt them.

She pulled back further, bending her body with feline grace, arching her back as her head tipped back. She rolled side ways and came to stop with her still nylon buttocks arse pointed up towards him. She pushed herself up with her hands, first that firm bum. His eyes accepted the sight hungrily, loving the way it had been framed by the dark sheer nylon, loving its pertness and its wobble. She lent forward and placed her arms out on the table, pushing her pussy towards him on the pivot of her heels.

'And now I will give you what you've already taken,' she cried joyously as she watched his reflection in the mirror.

He stepped forward hurriedly, his body being led by the throbbing cock that sought to worship this goddess through the only form of ritual it knew. This time there were no words of protest as it slammed into her slippery hole, lubricated as it was by their juices. In fact she encouraged him, spurring in on as he thrust into her, his hands on her breasts and her clit, his tongue on her neck...

It set the scene for the night, fucking and sucking and spanking and licking. Hard and rough, physical and passionate, driven by animal lusts. She lost count of the times she felt his cum erupt in her mouth or in her pussy, and he lost track of the time he spent with his head between her legs or his fingers in her anus. They spoke little for they needed only their bodies to express themselves. By the morning they were tired and aching. He dressed as she replaced the long coat that covered the definition of sin and temptation that was her body. Wordlessly they left the room and walked to the car park where they set off on the short journey to the airport. She decided not to drop him in front of the terminals and incurred the costs of a ticket in order to take the car into the furthest corner of the multi-storey. There they embraced against the side of the corner, and as their bodies felt each others warmth, they couldn't resist the urge to indulge themselves of one last tryst, fully clothed against the passenger side door. It was quick but fitting, leaving them both parting with juices dripping. No words were said as they went their separate ways.