byFranco Pauli©

Becca lay in bed, pretending to be asleep...waiting for her husband to leave for work. She didn't take any chances and waited until she heard the sound of her husbands car pulling out of the driveway. How she loved that much as she hated her husband. For twenty years she'd put up with his disgusting habits, his abuse. No, he'd never hit her...but his words cut her more deeply than a machete. No one would ever believe the dark side of this moon. He was a pig, fat and dirty. Sadly they were his best points. Their sex life was the crowning glory. He'd fucked her last night, if you could call it that...not enough fingering, not enough cock, not enough of anything.

As always, he crawled between her legs, stuffed his puny little cock into her pussy, pumped it a few times and came. In desperation, she tried to suck him up again, hoping he might want to fuck a little longer, perhaps even lasting long enough to get her off. But that was pointless. The bastard wouldn't even kiss her goodnight because she had cum on her lips. Shit, the bastard couldn't even get her pregnant. Oh yeah, she'd checked...snuck a little sample down to the clinic in the next town over. At this point in her life, all the lies were catching up with the truths. She vowed never to marry for all the right reasons again.

She glanced at the alarm clock next to the bed. She'd better hurry. She twisted her naked body around, scooted her ass across the bed and pulled herself up. She sat on the edge of the mattress and stretched, rolling her head around. The crackling sounds making her chuckle. Damn, you're getting old, woman. She lifted her hand and cupped it over her mouth, tasting her breath. Emmmmm, smells like cum. She licked away the crusty residuals of her vain attempt at resurrecting her husbands mammoth four inches. She loved the taste of cum, even his. She wondered why they didn't sell the stuff in quarts. Finally, she got up and headed towards the bathroom, pausing to admire her body in the full length mirror on the closet door. Not bad, she thought. Not bad at all.

Yes, she was getting older. No doubt about that. She cupped her tits then let them fall back down onto her chest. She loved the way they looked when they bounced and swayed when unfettered by a bra...especially under a thin T-shirt or a light summer dress. Sure they drooped a little...double D's couldn't defy gravity unless they were fake. She turned and studied her ass for a moment. It had spread a little, but he didn't care. He liked her just the way she was. She wondered what it would be like to actually make love to him. She shivered, the mere thought sending a chill up her spine. Don't get crazy, she thought. What they did was hardly making love, although she didn't really know what to call it.

She thought about the first time...she should have called the. But the shame kept her silent. It could have excused her silence, had she'd called them the second time. That time had been far worse. She had to keep her body covered for days...there were far too many bruises and scrapes to rationally explain away. She realized her silence had sent him a message. Her shame then turned into guilt. When he came again...and again...she could no longer deny the sheer pleasure she felt. The fear of his return had turned into longing. Eventually, any trace of guilt she might have had was gone. This was now their dirty little secrete, a secrete that could ruin her life if discovered. Her life had changed forever, but stuck in limbo. She couldn't go back...she couldn't move forward.

Who would ever believe she hadn't wanted it all to happen? She wouldn't. And what would life be with a man like him. You can't live off of matter how big and good it made you feel. She'd just take it for what it was until he moved on to another slut...precisely what she'd become. She'd tasted the dark side and it had consumed her. How could any self respecting woman enjoy the things he did to her...let alone beg him to use her like he did? She looked down at her pussy. It was already wet. God, just thought of what he was going to make her do was enough to set her on fire. Her strong scent wafted up into her nostrils and her nipples started to harden. She grinned as she remembered what he once said. "When you look up slut in the dictionary, your picture is right next to the word."

She pulled herself away from the mirror and stepped into the bathroom. She instinctively lowered the seat but stopped. She could wait for him. Reaching between her legs, she checked for stubble before remembering that she'd carefully shaved the night before. She laughed softly. Shaving her cunt had been hard to explain to her husband...he thought it made her look like a little girl. It was only for hygienic reasons, she pleaded, figuring the truth, that her lover wanted her pussy smooth, would be harder to pitch...she sadly wondered if he would have even cared. She took her short robe off the hook and slipped it on, tying it loosely around her waist then headed downstairs.

She padded across the tiled floor, savoring the coolness against the bottom of her feet until she reached the front of the kitchen sink. She turned the faucet's handle and waited for the water to become warm. The selection of dirty dishes was almost nil, and she wondered how long she could spend washing an empty coffee mug. Where the fuck was he? But it wasn't long before she heard the faint squeak of the backdoor opening and slowly closing. She could barely hear the lock click into place. She swallowed hard as she tried to keep herself under control. She could feel his eyes on her body, sweeping up and down, taking in the lush curves of her ass and thighs. She purposely leaned forward and reached for something irrelevant in the small cabinet above the sink. The robe pulled up, exposing the bottom half of her naked ass and the puffy lips of her moist and swollen pussy. Her thick labia hung down between her smooth thighs like some exotic tropical fruit, full of juice and ready to be eaten. He always gasped at the first sight of her pussy and each time that familiar sound made her shiver, knowing how much she excited him. She sensed him slowly moving towards her.

Suddenly his hand was over her mouth...that huge knife held in front of her eyes with his other massive hand. The sight still scared...her instincts said scream but reason said do what he wants. Maybe he'd gone crazy...flipped out and decided he'd finish what he'd started the first time he raped her. She trembled in stroke of that razor sharp blade would leave her dead. "Please don't kill me," she whispered. "I'll do anything you want."

"You've got that right, bitch," he growled into her ear. "You will do anything I want." He turned the knife in his palm and pressed the thick edge against her neck, drawing the cold steel back and forth across her soft skin as her body trembled in fear. She didn't breath until he pulled the blade away from her flesh, only taking her first breath when she heard the knife close. He casually dropped it onto the counter.

"What the fuck was that for," she growled as he began to lick the edge of her earlobe.

"For old time's sake," he said, chuckling as he ran his tongue around the inside of her ear. She'd been played, but she couldn't deny the rush of excitement his little stunt had induced in both of them. His hot breath was ragged, excited. One hand slid around her neck as the other pulled her robe off her shoulders and let it drop to her hips. It hung there for a moment before sliding across the lush expanse of her ass onto the floor. Immediately, his thick fingers moved between her cheeks and massaged her crinkly ring of sphincters. She couldn't keep from gasping as he roughly push two of them deep into her rectum. Instinctively, she pushed back against the intruders, trying to drive them even deeper into her bowels. "Full of ass candy," he growled, feeling the thick creamy mass flow around his fingers. "I'm gonna love fucking it today, baby." Becca moaned deeply as he twisted and probed her hungry asshole. He loved it dirty...she'd grown to love it. And it seemed both of them were on fire today, their prurient needs in synch. There was going to be a lot of explaining to do later.

Suddenly he pulled his fingers from her ass and brought them up, holding them near her lips like bait. The scent of his filthy fingers made the freak she'd become strain against his hand for a taste. She leaned forward, her mouth open, her tongue licking at the air as she tried to lick away the gritty scum...but he teased her and pulled his hand back. He laughed softly as she vainly tried again. "You're such a nasty cunt," he whispered into her ear. "A walking, talking toilet." He finally shoved his fingers into her mouth and let her savor her catch. She breathed the pungent aroma deep into her lungs as she hungrily licked the greasy paste from his fingers. Realizing the sheer depravity of it all, jolted another wave of wanton lust through her body. Why she didn't throw up frightened her. That she wanted more, terrified her. Her pussy was more than wet. She could feel the viscous pussy juice leaking onto the surface of her thighs and flowing like a river of lava down to her knees. God...what have I become?

He hooked the side of her mouth with his fingers and snapped her head around, kissing her roughly, pushing his thick tongue deep into her mouth, wildly swirling it around. She whimpered...another drop of pussy juice fell onto her thigh.

"What should I fuck today, baby, your mouth, your cunt...your ass?" He returned his fingers to her asshole and pushed them back into the creamy hole, making it difficult for her to speak. Her words were punctuated with gasps and moans as he pushed them in even deeper, adding a third accomplice to the crime.

"What ever you want," she groaned. "I'm your slut...and all my holes are yours." She nearly screamed when he abruptly pulled his fingers out the second time. She certainly hadn't wanted him to stop. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, pushing her back against the counter. His fingers were even filthier, but this time he held his hand up to his own face. He breathed deeply and lazily flicked his tongue across their soiled surfaces.

"Damn, baby," he hissed, staring into her eyes. "You drive me crazy when you're ripe like this." She watched him begin again, her eyes begging him to share, then smiling when he moved close enough for both of them to lick his sticky fingers. They stripped her ass juice from his fingers faster than carrion birds stripping a carcass, feeding their common need for depravity so perverse, only two depraved souls like them could enjoy. Tongues danced in the oral palace, darting wildly, pushing deeply, caressing each other as they bathed in the acrid mire. Their breathing was ragged as their lips parted. Becca's nimble fingers deftly opened the front of his shirt. She pulled it open and ran her silky hands across his muscular chest.

"You're beautiful, baby," she whispered as she slipped his shirt off. She rubbed it against her heaving chest, collecting the sweat that had begun to form on his skin with the soft fabric. She brought it up to her face, sniffing it, breathing in the heady scent of his sweaty body...mixed with that of another woman's body. She calmly set it on the counter and looked into his eyes. "You fuck her this morning, baby?" She leaned forward and licked away the last traces of their kiss before she let him answer. She listened as she let her lips move downward into the forest of thick hair that covered his chest...she knew the answer.

"Uh huh," he groaned when she bit one nipple, then the other.

"Prick," she growled, bending and sinking her teeth into his belly. "Couldn't wait for MY pussy, you mother-fucker?" He laughed softly then gasped as her hand slid down across his taut stomach into the waistband of his loose fitting shorts. She gripped his cock roughly, squeezing it painfully hard, feeling the veins throb against her palm.

"I couldn't help it baby...morning wood has no conscience." She knelt in front of him and slowly tugged his shorts down, his thick cock snapping back up against his stomach as the elastic cleared the tip, nearly smacking her in the face. She grabbed his swaying cock and drew it towards her open mouth, taking nearly half of it into her mouth. He gasped as her wet lips surrounded his throbbing meat, her tongue swirling around the gnarled shaft. Becca shivered with excitement as the taste of his wife's pussy spread across her tongue. She breathed deeply. She loved the taste of cum mixed with pussy juice...even when it wasn't her pussy.

"Well I've been bad too," she said, taunting him the second she pulled her mouth from his cock. His hand instantly reached out and squeezed her neck tightly as he pulled her up to her feet and shoved her back against the counter. He glared at her and squeezed her neck even tighter...she was beginning to feel light headed.

"That so, you little slut?" he snarled. She nervously bit her lower lip and shook her head yes. "Was it any good?" he asked, laughing with a knowing tone in his voice. "Shot your pussy full of blanks...left you always?" She shook her head yes...suddenly regretting she'd taunted him. This was new, not part of the game...they never went there. "You think I'm stupid. Twenty years. No kids. A hot piece of ass like you." The tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to hold them back, but couldn't. His eyes softened and the pressure around her neck lessened. His face was tense, the muscles around his eyes twitched. But suddenly, a mask of sadness covered his face. He slowly reached down, pulled up his shorts then picked up his shirt. Wordlessly, he turned away and walked to the door.

The truth can't be hurtful to hear as it was. She couldn't think of any explanation for what had just happened. The only thing she knew for certain was that she couldn't let him leave. Though she still couldn't define their relationship, one so vile and raw it frightened her, sadly, it was all she had. She ran across the room and pushed his hand off the knob, sliding in front of the door. He looked confused, conflicted, uncertain about what he should do. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting his head tilt back. He stood there in silence, his body lifeless. Finally, his eyes opened and his head lowered.

"I'm tired of bits and pieces." He paused and looked directly into her eyes. "I want it all," he whispered. Becca's breathing stopped. She blinked.

"Then take it."


Becca couldn't tell you how they wound up in the shower, naked, his huge cock pumping wildly inside her bowels as she begged for more...she didn't really care. This was their playground, it's locked door and cold tile walls contained another world where they shared their souls. It kept out the lies that made up their lives and blocked her screams of pleasure from curious ears. "Fuck your whore, you bastard. Fuck her ass good," she gurgled as he pounded his thick meat in and out of her frothy anus. She squealed each time his powerful hand slapped her jiggling buttocks...glowing from his assault as the once small patches of red slowly began to cover her entire ass. He felt bigger than he'd ever been, more vicious, more everything as he churned and stirred her shit hole relentlessly. Becca squatted down slightly, giving him a better angle to ream her ass. Her huge tits hung down like udders, bouncing and swaying in synch to his thrusts.

"NO," she screamed as he suddenly pulled his cock free, only to moan in pleasure as he pushed his face between her filthy cheeks, driving his tongue deep into her gaping anus. "Oh fuck, you filthy bastard. Eat my dirty ass. Suck it...yessssssssssssssss. That's it, baby." She screamed as another of her countless orgasms washed over her body. Just as her body started to calm down, he slapped her ass even harder, throwing gasoline on the raging fire. Her body bolted up and she twisted around.

She grinned at him wickedly and leaned back against the wall. Her hands dipped down between her thighs, her panting stopped, her fingers peeled open her puffy vaginal lips. The golden stream of hot urine splashed against his soiled face, streaking the frothy brown scum and washing it down his neck and chest. He leaned forward, following the stream with his open mouth until it clamped over her spurting cunt, filling quickly with the briny fluid as he vainly tried to swallow every drop. As the flow ebbed, his tongue pushed up into her cunt, fucking her quickly to another orgasm, more violent, more powerful. The pleasure rippled through her body like a tsunami, leaving her trembling, her legs too weak to hold her up. He reached up and steadied her until she regained her strength.

Slowly, he pulled himself up and wrapped his arms around her. They stood in absolute silence. Her eyes were closed, her face pressed into his chest. The earth stopped moving the instant she felt his lips tenderly kiss her forehead. Her eyes flew open in surprise. He'd never done that before and even more shocking was the smile, not wicked, not teasing, but gentle. He reached over and turned the water on, testing it until it was just right, then pulled her with him under the soothing spray. It slowly washed away the filth from their bodies down onto the shower floor. The murky pool swirled around the drain with a soft gurgling sound slowly turned clear.

She felt his hard cock pressing against her belly, a bit surprised he was still hard. She suddenly realized he hadn't cum. His smile was gone, but the tenderness was still there. He pulled his hips back and bent his knees. The tip of his cock nudged the entrance to her pussy. She trembled slightly. So many thoughts ran through her mind. They'd always been so careful. Jesus, and today could be just the right time...or wrong time. my god. "Are you sure?" he whispered. She'd made up her mind already. She started to speak but suddenly stopped...stunned with an unbelievable realization. Her eyes widened in utter disbelief.

"It's Jordan...Jordan Wiley," he whispered.

"Hi Jordan." He laughed first. There were tears on her cheeks before she got her laughter under control. She took a deep breath and stared at him, a bit overwhelmed by the emotions racing through her mind. "Yes," she finally whispered, answering his question. "Now get busy."


Charles stood at the kitchen counter. The note was brief...very brief. He found it when he arrived home from work. Her wedding ring had been on top of it, a rather explanatory paper weight. "Good bye. Rebbecca," was all it said.

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