She was married with two kids. She loved her husband, but he wouldn't give her the passion and the kinkiness that she craved. My stories spoke to her, though. She wrote to thank me for them. We began to corresspond. She said she liked how the men in the stories would switch from being gentle and nice to brutally taking what they wanted. With some prodding from me, she admitted to masturbating to my stories. A bit more encouragement, and we talked on the phone. It didn't take long for her to say, "The kids are at school, my husband is at work, and I'm laying in my bed alone...." I told her how to touch herself, and made her beg me for permission to cum.
I made her admit her fantasies to me. I took special pleasure in getting her to admit the most humiliating ones. One day, she whispered, "I want you to rape me."
"I wish you could," she said. "But I want you so badly that I'd give you anything you wanted."
"So when are we meeting?"
She paused for a moment, then said, "Next Friday...I'll tell my husband I'm going to hang out with my friend Susan. She'll cover for me."
We picked a hotel to meet at, and she asked me to buy the condoms, so there was no chance her husband would find them in her purse. Being the nice gentleman I am, I agreed.
I love being in a hotel room and waiting for a woman to arrive. It's like waiting for a present to be delivered. When I heard the knock, I looked out of the peephole and enjoyed the sight of her fidgeting nervously.
She shyly whispered, "Hi," when she came in. But the way she was dressed spoke volumes. I wondered why her husband even let her out of the house in a skirt that short and a blouse that revealing. I gestured for her to sit on the bed. I intentionally sat a few feet away. I knew that I could have had her the moment she walked in the door, but I was enjoying the anticipation of the fucking, and also the knowledge that I was making her wait for what she craved. I don't even remember what meaningless small talk we made. I do remember that she was becoming more and more flushed as I stared at her. Finally, I leaned back on the bed and said, "Do you want me to fuck you?"
I smirked. "Do you want it gentle and loving?"
She blushed even more than she had before. "No."
"So how DO you want it? Ask for it."
"I--I want to be FUCKED. I want to be fucked hard. Take me. Use me."
I buried my hand in her hair and kissed her passionately, while my other hand pulled her clothes off.
Soon, we were both naked on the floor, her with her back on the carpet, and me between her legs. Our tongues entwined as we groped each other. Her tits were big and her nipples hard and sensitive. Her pussy lips were open, swollen with lust, and the tip of my cock teased her wet slit. I was ready. I announced, "I'm going to rape you today."
She smiled. "Yeah, let's pretend that. I'll struggle and say, No."
My breathing was getting heavier. "You don't get it. I'm going to actually rape you."
She licked my ear. "I wish you could. But I want it so bad. I'll give you anything, so you can't take anything from me."
I pushed the cap of my cock against her clit, making her moan and squirm. She whimpered, "I need to fuck you. Please. Put a condom on so you can fuck me."
"Fuck you," I growled, "I'm sending you home with a load of my cum in your cunt. You can take it back to your husband, so it's all over his cock when he fucks you tonight." She realized that I was starting to shove my bare cock into her pussy.
"No!" she yelped. "I won't do it that way! I can't cheat on my husband and not even use a condom!"
"So call a fucking cop," I grunted dismissively.
Now she was really resisting: she pushed hard to shove me off, twisting her hips to get her pussy away from my darting cock. Soon we were both dripping in sweat from the effort of wrestling on the hotel room floor. Her back had rug burns from being pushed around. I'm sure she wanted to scream for help, but she knew it would make a huge scene if hotel security showed up, and she was afraid word would get back to her husband.
Pushing hard against my sweaty chest, her hand slipped off and grazed my face. She didn't mean to hit me, but I could tell from the look on her face that she enjoyed it. She wasn't playing: she hated me, really hated me. "Get off me, you bastard!" she panted.
I lifted myself up on one arm and slapped her across the face. "You think you're allowed to hit me, you whore?"
Now she was angry and scared and humiliated. Hot tears ran down her burning cheek. "Please...I don't want it...."
My cock was rock hard. Raping her was turning me on so much. And she was now exhausted and couldn't fight anymore. I rammed my cock into her and started pounding her shaved cunt. "You wet whore," I moaned. "It feels even better than I thought. Raped pussy is always the best."
She started to plead: "Please, at least take it out before you cum. You can cum on my face, or I'll swallow it if you want."
But I just looked down at her with an evil smirk and started pumping even faster than before: "Get ready for a nice, juicy load, bitch!"
I groaned like a bull as my cock pumped cum into her pussy. I let my full weight rest on her as her body shivered and twitched in shock and lust.
After I pulled out, I straddled her face and ordered, "Suck it clean." She was too broken to do anything but obey. She licked up my cum as I rubbed my semi-hard cock over her face and pushed it down into her throat. "Yeah, that's it, rape-whore. Suck up that dirty cum."
When she had done a good job, I got up, put my clothes on, and left her lying in a ball on the hotel room floor.
About a week later I got a phone call. It was her. At first, she tried to make small talk, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. So I asked, "Why did you call?"
"I don't know, I just--I guess...."
"Tell me what you did after I left the hotel room."
"I got my clothes on and left."
"What did you do before you got dressed? Don't lie to me."
I could hear the tears in her voice. "Please don't make me say it."
"I masturbated. I rubbed my clit, really hard and fast, and I masturbated till I came."
I smiled. "And you've masturbated every day since then, haven't you?"
"Yes," she said, her voice choking.
"And what do you fantasize about every time you masturbate?"
"I think about how you raped me, and it makes me cum. I cum really hard."
"And now you want to see me again." It was a statement, not a question.
"Could you do Thursday afternoon?" she asked timidly.
We agreed on 6 o'clock at the same hotel. After we hung up, I thought about what we had talked about in the past. I remembered her saying that she didn't want to be taken up the ass. She said in particular that the thought of sucking a guy off after he came up your ass seemed really degrading, and she couldn't imagine why some women liked that.
And I smiled, looking forward to Thursday.