Make Me Hate You Ch. 01

"My Darling John," that was how she always wrote to him, notes, birthday cards, Christmas cards, always that, "I hope you find this card before the interview. I want you to know that you look as hot as fuck in this suit and it's all I can do not grab you, rip off my trousers and have you screw me. Know this, I love you and am so proud of what you do, whether you get that poxy commission or not I'll still love you to the moon and back and can't wait for you to come home and sort me out, Love Julia."

He had found it before the interview, he did get the commission and they both went at it like rabbits as soon as he got home.

The note was just a shitty end to a less than perfect day, He thought about throwing it away, and folded it to leave it on his plate but wouldn't want the waiters to find it and read it, knowing that he was 'John'. He would be more ceremonial with it, take it to his balcony and throw it overboard, or worse burn it, to throw the ash into the Rhine, but the handwriting wouldn't let him so he carefully folded it and put it back into the same pocket.

He looked around and it was only Mrs Booth, another two ladies travelling together and him that weren't a couple.

He sipped his port; couples, the fucking world seemed to revolve around them and it was quite sweet to see the oldies sat so close to their husbands or wives, the 'married couple'. John Daniels wasn't one of those people that firmly believed that the 'couple' was a societal dictate or a spiritual blessing, it was an evolutionary process to ensure the continuation of the human race, love wasn't just something in Beatles songs (he hated the Beatles) it was a chemical process to ensure that babies were born and cared for.

Perhaps he just hadn't given out the right pheromones and that bastard had. He looked around at the many couples sat close together, as they obviously had done for many years. What the fuck was wrong with him, how come it didn't work for him and Julia? Just to point out what was ticking away in the back of his mind, light reflecting from an opening door seemed to hit all of the jewels on all of the rings that a table full of little old ladies wore. That was it, they were all married and somehow he had never got to that point with Julia.

Would that have made a difference though; wouldn't she just have cheated on him wearing a couple of extra rings?

Mrs Booth had a second martini, and with the wine and the port seemed more than a little pissed. She sat up straight and spoke, the booze affecting her speech.

"So just what THE HELL does a woman have to do to get fucked around here?"

"Excuse me?" he said with some surprise.

"A fuck Mr Daniels, you know surely?" She said quietly enough for just him to hear.

"Yes, I... err... I rather thought that you didn't like me Mrs Booth."

"Oh, I definitely don't like you Mr Daniels, but you have a penis and that's rather all I'm interested in right now."

"So let me get this straight," he said reaching into his pocket for his mobile phone and sneaking it under the table and into his lap then setting the recorder running but out of sight, "you want me, the person you dislike and complained about to the guide to make love to you?"

"No," she said sipping the last of her martini and shaking her head vigorously, "I don't want you to make love, I want a Fuck - like I said."

He hit the power button so the screen darkened to prevent her seeing the recorder doing its work and raised it innocently above the table level.

"You want me to Fuck you - not make love?"

"Yep!"

"Explain..."

"Mr Daniels, I find you extremely attractive and after a half bottle of wine, a glass of port, and a second martini I really am in the mood for all kinds of very nice things." She slipped the shoulder strap of her dress and leaned slowly forward so he could look down at her large breasts with the hint of a nipple. "I've not had sex with a man in over five years, and you Mister Journalist have had my dry pussy and soft nipples crying out for some attention." She pulled the front of her dress down and her large full breasts all but spilled out on to the table.

"So," he said looking at the face of the attractive woman before him and not at her fine tits, "You ACTUALLY want me to shag you Mrs Booth?"

"Hell yeah," she said sipping some more wine; she looked him up a down, "seeing as I have the hots for you Mr Daniels, I think I'll let you do whatever you want to me."

"You're not just saying that because you're pissed and a bit horny?"

"Nope!" She raised her boobs into firing position, "Wanted a shag early on today, or didn't you notice?"

"Oh, that's what downward facing dog was all about," he sipped more of his port, "and err..." he caught his breath, "anything?" he said incredulously, trying to think of something extra that he could use against her if this was just a ruse to have him thrown off of the boat to get her balcony back.

"Anything Mr Daniels, I want sex."

"And you want me to do it to you."

"Yes," she said picking up the empty wine bottle, her face showing some disappointment. "You see," she waved to the waiter, and pulled up her dress to hide her tits again, "I've had it all Mr Daniels, I lost my virginity as a young debutante to the son of an Earl that turned out to be as queer as a coot and would later shoot himself after the Metropolitan Police arrested him in a public convenience in Green Park. Two nights before my first wedding and out of condoms I had my first anal with an officer from the Guards in the back of his Land Rover at Knightsbridge Barracks..."

"Which Regiment..." he couldn't stop himself from saying it.

"I do believe he was a Grenadier." She smiled wistfully at the remembrance, "one of the Queen's Company, only the best for yours truly," she took his glass and sipped some of his wine, "Interested in the buggery records of the Army's finest?"

"Military journalist - call it professional courtesy," he said with a grin, "tell me more." This was classic stuff and he laid his still recording phone innocently on the table between them.

The waiter arrived and she ordered a third martini, while John smiled to him and laid a hand over his port glass to indicate he'd had enough. The waiter left and she continued talking, and what a fucking list!

She had done everything in a long and sordid career between the sheets and often other places and even told him what type of Land Rover she'd been buggered in. After twenty minutes of 'confessions of an upper class whore' with her bare tits resting on the table she put them away and sat up.

"I've been tied up, tied down, spanked more times than I can shake a stick at, and had the occasional shaken stick laid across my delectably shapely bottom quite a few times as well. Shagged, screwed, fucked and fisted Mr Daniels," She looked out into space, "Oh, and Hubby number three did like to both ejaculate and piss on me."

"Not my kind of thing Mrs Booth, besides we'd never get the stains out of the sheets."

"In the bath dear boy," she said finishing the last of his wine, "in the bath. Then he liked me to spend at least ten minutes blowing him, if it was any less he would spank me some more, or take his belt off to me if he was in the mood."

"Hmm," he said, "obviously an oral expert then?" sipping his port.

"Number two said I could make suck a cricket ball through a garden hose and could give a dead man an erection." She looked around the bar at the groups of well-dressed people gradually thinning out. "We have 7 days of our cruise left," she said, "and I would like to undertake any number of sexual acts with you, one for each night we have left, or each day should I say - I quite fancy having some fun on our balcony in the day light as well."

"Well," he said, his erection straining against his pants, "I'm sure I can help with that."

They went back to their own rooms and he pulled his door shut leaning against it, locking the door catch and thinking what the fuck he was going to do with this very attractive horny woman that was looking for a different sexual experience each day, after virtually delivering an inventory of sexual activity. He saved the recording of her request and her sexual autobiography to his OneDrive account happy that it was date and time stamped, just in case she decided that he had raped her and this was a ploy to blackmail him or get him off of the ship.

As he leaned against the door, there she was, her pale white skin appearing in the moonlight as she leant against the railing naked. He switched on the bedside lights and she walked towards the glass, her arms folded and raising her large shapely breasts. He noticed that one arm was crooked up and she was smoking a cigarette in a holder.

He opened the door and she stepped in, she blew smoke in his face.

He waved it away, so she blew some more.

"I really don't like making love to an ash tray Mrs Booth."

"What are you going to do about it then stud?"

He almost laughed at that bit. It was so much the action and words of Olivia Newton John from the ending of Grease and he just about held the giggles in.

Feeling that he needed to do something he pinched the cigarette from the holder and flicked it expertly into the Rhine. He hadn't smoked real cigarettes since leaving university and he didn't like the smell anymore. Mrs Booth could see that.

"So like I said, WHAT are you going to do about it STUD?" She turned her back to him, bending slightly at the waist and sticking out her bottom with a challenge.

He stared around him feeling his penis harden against his boxer shorts. The balcony was as secure and discreet as the brochure had said. It was not visible from any other part of the ship or covered by the few CCTV cameras about the place. He took off his suit jacket and slung it on the sofa just inside his cabin and added his shirt and then his trousers after kicking his shoes across the room.

"So before I screw you Mrs Booth, do you have condoms?"

She looked slightly annoyed at this question and he could see from her occasionally flexing facial muscles she was holding back her angry reply.

"You have nothing to fear from me Mr Daniels."

"At your own admission you've screwed your way around the country including being fucked by at least one gay man in the eighties, and buggered by Army Officers and I'm supposed to just accept that you're aren't poxed up to your eyeballs just because you say so?"

"I have a letter in my bag if you think I'm making it up Mr Daniels?"

"A letter from who?" he said.

"From my Doctor," she said "I was tested just shy of entering into a relationship with an... shall we say an old friend and I had myself tested. The letter is saved onto my cloud storage, one moment." She returned with a smart phone.

"Show me," he said.

In moments the cougar was tapping the screen, and within moments she was showing him a scanned copy of a letter from a Harley street clinic confirming that Ms Molly Booth of some house in Belgravia was free of any sexually transmitted disease including AIDS.

"OK Mrs Booth," he said, "Suppose it's OK to fuck you then."

She sniffed and feigned indifference and threw the phone onto her bed. As if insulted by something she stepped out of the sliding doors and stared out across the Rhine Valley that was in darkness and her pale, faintly goosepimpled flesh stood out in the low lighting of the balcony and from the bedside lamps in both of the rooms, the split between her buttocks extremely inviting

He stepped up behind her and pushing down his boxers took his hardness and levelled it to her pussy; when he had been in this position before he remembered how Julia would reach behind her and spread her cheeks so he had a better view...

"Spread your cheeks for me Mrs Booth," he said.

"Oooh, going for anal already Mr Daniels?"

"Nah, just need your flabby arse out of the way so I can get to your pussy."

She shuffled forward slightly and he could see her rest one shoulder on the rail as the tips of her fingers appeared and duly pulled at her buttocks and everything he wanted to see appeared before his eyes.

Her pussy looked very wet, more than any pre-fuck pussy ever did before and he guessed that knowing this was to happen she had already lubed up. He swiped his index finger from her labia all the way along her crack stopping at her anus; for pure devilment he pushed the tip of his finger against her anus and she squeaked, but not in a bad way.

"Oh Mr Daniels, I can see we are going to get on FAMOUSLY!!" she sighed as he pushed his cock hard into her pussy, "OOH FUCK YEAH!!" He pumped hard and fast into her conscious that while they were hidden from view of anyone bar someone on the shore with very high-power binoculars, while any noise she made might be audible from the next deck down. He looked down at his wristwatch, it was gone midnight, no one would hear them, who was he kidding.

He fucked harder and harder, enjoying more tightness of this knee-trembler as she released her buttocks to take hold of the railings to keep her from falling over.

"Oh yeah, fuck yeah, that's good Mr Daniels," she said, "just a bit harder if you would."

He increased his speed, conscious that the last thing he wanted to do was come to quickly after this woman had made so much of him fucking her. The cool of the evening wasn't affecting him at all, in fact he felt rather warm as he thrust in and out of the soft and very wet pussy she had laid out for him so evidently.

He saw her shoulders start to droop, and her cries of encouragement eased somewhat so he guessed that it might be time to take this indoors. It had been great fun screwing her out here in the cool German evening, he did feel that he'd quite like to take this to the bedroom now. He stopped, pulled out from her and taking her arm led her towards her open cabin door then to her bed.

"What now?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Same as before, just a bit more comfortable," he said.

"Comfort?" she said.

"Yeah, why not."

"Pussy..." she hissed getting back on to her hands and knees.

He climbed on the bed behind her and pushed back into her, enjoying the warmth and the comfort that beds give to the process. He put his hands on her hips for greater purchase and hauled her back, so hard that she cried out.

"You OK?" he said slowing.

"Don't fucking stop now!" she cried out pushing back on him, "hard, you bastard, like you did before!" So he did making her cry out, but not as loudly or as passionately as before. "Fuck me..." she growled, "fuck me... hurt me!" she howled, using one of her hands to take his and squeeze her buttock with it. He gave her an exploratory spank and she hissed, "Ooh yeah, that's more like it."

He gave her a couple more and pulled her down with him to lay on their sides with him still buried inside her. What this new position meant was he was free to reach around and after a few fumbles slid his long middle finger between her flesh and found her clitoris and stroked and strummed as he always done with... with bloody Julia! His anger gave him extra energy and screwed Mrs Booth harder, and frigged her clit with a new venom, using his free hand to reach under her and grab her big tits and squeeze them probably a bit too hard, his groping fingers finding her nipple and pinching it angrily, she moved a hand over his and he pushed her down squashing her flat against the bed.

"OH CHRIST!" she screeched and he knew that she was coming, and coming hard. He pumped hard into her and she pushed back against him her hands over his as she came, her cheek pushing against his so he could feel the wetness of her tears against him.

She gasped and panted her way to the end of her come, and he pulled out from her rolling her over to her back to get on top of her to fuck her normally, in that nice old missionary position and she lay under him clinging on for dear life as he made love to her.

He felt himself rising to his orgasm, and speeded up, holding her tighter, feeling her thighs grip him and her quivering almost to the point of spasms made him think that she was coming again.

And she did, crying out,

"No!" she cried as he fucked her, "No! Not this way! I can't do that... Oh fucking Jesus!" she shouted as she came again and he came deep into her pussy.

He figured that although she was really quite sexy her age and the need for lubricant meant that she wasn't going to start worrying about contraception.

He rolled over and lay back on her bed cooling off; she sat up, a hand resting on her lower belly, the look of shock as if that sort of orgasm was a new thing to her.

She lay down resting on her elbows and looking at him, still with the same shocked look on her face.

"Not too shabby," he said as he caught her taking a look at his penis.

She lay flat, not looking anywhere but up at the ceiling.

"Not too Shabby?" she said, "Did you listen to a WORD I said?"

"I made you come!" he snapped, actually quite proud of himself, "TWICE! Wassup, wanted more did you?"

"Like I said Mr Daniels," she hissed, "you never listened to a fucking word!" she folded her arms. She stood up and stomped to the dressing table where there was a glass and she filled it with water. Suddenly she put a hand to her groin and in great shock almost gripped her pussy and ran for the bathroom.

He heard the rattle of her pulling paper from the dispenser and then a few moments later a flush. She came out of the bathroom with arms folded against her big tits, still showing the marks where he'd grabbed them. She sat on the edge of the bed, her back to him and totally closed down.

"OK Mrs Booth, What the actual fuck?"

"You don't get it do you!?" her body language still shut to him.

"Err... nope!" he rolled to one side and stood up, he needed to wipe himself down there as well.

"I wanted something... something a bit more spectacular!"

He felt his bottom jaw fall somewhat; OK, as shags went he had to confess it was pretty good all things considered and he thought he did the sort of thing that made her excited and ACTUALLY GAVE HER TWO ORGASMS! WHAT MORE DID SHE WANT!?

He went to the bathroom and wiped himself and washed his hands. On his return he saw that the bedside light had been turned off and she had the duvet pulled up and over her. There wasn't that much of it left for him to get under so opened the sliding door and went back to his room. He put his suit and shirt back onto a hanger and in the wardrobe ready for the next wearing, put his posh shoes away and stepped to his bed remembering that his boxers were around here somewhere.

He got into bed and with very little input from him slept the night through with no dreams about Julia, no sudden waking every forty five minutes like he'd been suffering for the last three weeks, just deep restful sleep.

The Third Day...

Waking at work o'clock again he got up and used the bathroom, made himself a cup of tea and left it to cool while he took a shower, scrubbing himself and thinking fondly on his very weird fuck the night before. While it hadn't been such an emotional experience it was pretty good. As a young student he'd had a few one-night stands with girls he'd met in Friday pubs or student events, and even though he had enjoyed waking up with several of the girls and the occasionally brief 'next morning' bit which had varied between more sex then sharing naked breakfast and having a giggle, to her not remembering his name and asking if he could leave really quickly and quietly so none of her flatmates saw him, just in case they told her boyfriend. There was never that much of an attraction or sharing of phone numbers. It was just a 'Uni thing', a little bit of guilt-free, uncomplicated sex.

He'd graduated, been in a couple of long-term relationships and learned that there was no such thing as 'uncomplicated sex'.