Blackmail Ch. 2

"As is your marriage."

"My life might be ruined, but I think he just might kill you."

"I'd advise you not to let him see."

"He's my husband," she wailed, "How can I keep him from seeing my body?"

"Jim... mild, quiet, Jim," he snorted, "You'll find a way."

She curled tighter around herself.

"Now. I am going to fuck you. And maybe I will let you go home."

"Oh god."

"Once I'm good and done with you."

The thought flashed through her mind, "I guess it could be worse. At least he's good looking. Where the hell did that come from? What difference did his looks make here???" Her mind spun wildly.

"Oh god," she whispered again, no longer weeping.

"He won't help you."

Matt looked at her. Even curled up in a tight ball, shaking, angry welts down her back and ass, he still found her hot. He wasn't sure why this made him more angry.

"Roll over," he demanded, "I want your back on the floor."

"Is this really what you want?" she asked as she slowly, painfully complied, "You really want me like this? Beaten, bruised, weeping?" Clearly he did want her, his dick was rock hard.

She hissed as she rolled over, the rub stinging against her back.

"Open your legs."

Reluctantly, she spread for him, waiting for him to answer her, not sure that he would.

"You will heal," he said, kneeling and positioning himself between her legs, "No permanent damage."

She knew she might regret the next words out of her mouth, but she couldn't help herself. "Is this the only way you can get a woman then? Blackmail? Beatings? Is this the reason your wife left you?"

He held her legs as he entered her, "She couldn't handle my..." He slid in deep. "Desires."

She moaned in spite of herself. She couldn't help it, he did feel good inside her. Damn it all.

He moved inside her, long slow strokes.

"You're beautiful," he told her. "Jim really should do more for you."

He pulled back, pushed in, in a maddening rhythm. Her hips rose to meet him as he increased his pace. His hands moved up from her legs to her breasts.

Deeper he thrust into her, filling her more than her husband ever did. Fast and furious now, he fucked her. His hands clutched at her breasts as skin met skin.

He pinched her nipples and she moaned louder, as he slammed into her, hard and fast. She matched him thrust for thrust.

She reached up and pulled his head down to her, needing his mouth. Their lips met in a deep kiss as she thrust her tongue into his mouth.

Lust over took her as he kissed her hungrily. She knew how much he wanted her, and she found herself wanting him just as much, right or wrong. Their tongues wrestled together. Her hands moved around him as the sounds of their bodies meeting filled the room.

He moaned into her mouth as she ran her nails down his back, digging deep, leaving her mark on him as he had marked her.

Faster he went, his body tensing and she arched under him, another orgasm rushing over her. She felt him swell inside her as he kept thrusting.

With a groan, he started shooting his cum into her, jet after jet spurted, washing her insides. "Oh yes! Oh fuck yes!" he cried out.

Suddenly she froze, her orgasmic glow gone. She was stone cold sober, realizing what had happened, what he had just done.

Still wrapped in his own pleasure, it took him a moment to notice her reaction. He looked down at her.

"What?" One last thrust.

"I... I'm not on the pill," she stammered, "Oh Jesus."

Above her, his face changed, suddenly sad.

"The real reason my wife left me..." He closed his eyes against the pain of it. "I'm sterile." He lowered his body on top of her, and laid his forehead on her shoulder.

"You are? You're sure? I'm sorry, but I have to know!"

He pushed up on his arms to look her in the eye, incredulous she could ask after he had admitted that.

"Do you see my wife? Any kids?" He was angry. "Did you ever bother to see the envy in my eyes every time I saw you with your family? When the three of you went past my house on your walks?"

She flinched away from his anger.

"I'm sorry, I am. But if I were to get pregnant..." She let the word hang there for a moment. "You must understand that!"

His face crumbled.

"I didn't know," she said, as he buried his face between her breasts.

"No reason you would," he whispered.

She wrapped her arms around him, repeating, "I'm sorry." Yes, he'd just treated her brutally, but she couldn't help but respond to his pain. As she stroked his head, she felt wetness on her chest, and knew it to be his tears.

He held on to her, and after a few long minutes, he spoke quietly. "Since she left... and she left me emotionally years ago... since she left I hate, yet love women. Missing their embrace, and yet not feeling I could approach. Missing...."

Susan continued to stroke his hair, letting him talk.

"And then you gave me this opportunity... a chance to be with a woman... who... I desire."

"Is this the way you want someone though?" she asked quietly. "Against her will?" Her hand moved to rub his neck.

His face still hidden between her breasts, he whispered, "Tell me, if I called, would you come?" He let his breath out in a rush. "God I missed this."

"I came tonight, didn't I?"

"Yes, but was it because you had to or wanted to?"

"No," she told him honestly, "It was because I had to. But I'll tell you this." He looked up again, meeting her eyes. "While it frightened me to hear your voice on the phone tonight, it sent a thrill through me also."

"Have you been thinking about our encounter a few days ago?"

"Often," she admitted. "The memory sneaks up on me. But," she needed to drive the point home, "I *am* married. I can't give you all that you need."

He pulled out, but still held her.

"I shouldn't be giving you this, or letting you take it, rather," she finished.

"Mmmm. You'd best go home. I'll see you again," he kissed her, and then got up. "I need sleep. Go."

She sat up, pulled her discarded clothes to her. He offered his hand, she took it and he pulled her to her feet. She pulled on her dress and rolled up the bustier, not wanting to put it back on now.

Matt walked her to the stairs, and she went downstairs alone, retrieved her jacket and left via the back door.

He went back into his bedroom and poured himself another glass of wine.