Miracle on Slutty 4th Street Ch. 03

"What?" she said, confused. What the hell were they even talking about before... this? Lacey remembered something vague about Christmas decorations, but that seemed so long ago. All she could think about was cock. Bruce's big cock. Yeah, she could admit it, with the glimpses she had gotten, and all the gorgeous women he had landed... he probably was as big as he boasted. As big as he appeared through his briefs. How big, she could not say for sure yet. Yet? Why was she thinking yet? It wasn't like she was planning to see it in the future. Not a chance!

It was still insane for her to know that the man seated next to her was currently on-screen, having sex. Having sex using his thick, no-doubt massive cock! No, that wasn't sex... that was fucking. Illicit, brutal, nasty fucking was the type he seemingly loved to take part in. It was crazy! Lacey usually never thought in these terms, but it was just... damn.

Lacey couldn't stand the guy, but he'd certainly backed up his boasting. He wasn't some crazy older guy with delusions of grandeur. No, this guy, this wicked scrooge, also happened to be a stud. A huge-dicked stud. This guy fucked often. He had a way with women and could charm seemingly the smartest of them into his bed and onto his dick. His giant dick. His perfect dick. And he clearly wanted to bed her too. He wanted to give her the exact same treatment. The fact that a man of such talent and skill wanted her, thinking she was worthy of such treatment... that was flattering, wasn't it? No... no. This man was a beast! A pig! An old scrooge!

"I... I... I think..." the young wife stammered. She had so much fight before, but her feelings had clearly softened towards the brutish older man after seeing him in action. He was legit. He could get the job done. He could make girls scream! Bruce smiled at the young woman's clear struggle as her eyes stayed glued on the screen.

Sure, he was, uh, huge. And he was good at what he did. But, how did he get all those girls to take things that far? He wasn't exactly the most amiable guy Lacey had ever met. Far from it. Maybe... maybe he was far more charming than he let on. Maybe in this case, with Lacey, he was trying to intimidate her, but maybe with others, he could truly charm their pants off.

"Oh, I've got sound on all these..." Bruce said before unmuting it, and suddenly, the room was filled with noise.

"AH! AH! YES!" the woman on screen screamed out. The sounds of her ass slapping against the older man's torso as he drilled her from behind echoed out.

"Take it! Take my fucking dick you fucking slut!" he growled, before spanking her ass firmly.

"AHHHHH! YES!" she screamed.

"Take it, bitch! Take it bitch! Yes!" the brutish old man grunted out, fucking her harder, spanking her ass again.

"Yes! Yes! Fuck! Do whatever you want to me! I love it! I love it! God damn, your cock feels so big in my ass! Yes!" The HR woman screamed out.

Lacey wasn't naïve. She'd seen some porn in her time, not that she'd made a habit of it. But here, watching footage of a man fucking young women while standing right next to that man... this was something else. Watching him fuck in such a brutal, savage manner, while calling this woman such awful names... it was truly shocking. But despite knowing better, some part of her, deep down, was responding. Her pussy had gotten wet, and her nipples had begun hardening. As her mind was in sudden conflict, Bruce's phone pinged again.

"And if you don't believe what you're seeing there," he began, holding up his phone. "All these texts I've been getting? Satisfied customers. Wives, girls who are in town from college, or one of the many other sluts I've banged... they all want a bit more. Sending me pictures of their tits or their ass or everything..." he said, scrolling through pictures on his phone, showing gorgeous girl after gorgeous girl doing as he said, flashing their tits to him via text, trying to entice the older man into more sex. "I don't like to repeat myself with these girls, but who am I turn down such lovely creatures..."

Lacey looked away from the phone as he tossed it aside, looking back at the porn playing on screen. She jumped when Bruce muted the TV again and looked up at her. Her eyes remained glued on the screen as he spoke up again.

"God, one of those videos starring me and you would have been something, wouldn't it?" he said, leaning back and putting his hand on his chin, looking the hot-bodied blonde over again. He'd already done this so many times she didn't bother trying to cover up, letting the older man look over her delicious frame without one word of protest. Letting him imagine her body as exactly as he wanted to. In a flash, an image flashed into her mind. Of her and Bruce... in bed... having sex.

She'd come in to his house so convinced she could win him over, almost arrogant about it, that she just knew if things reached the point of some of the things she saw on screen, he'd want to teach her a lesson. She just knew the old man would show her zero mercy. She'd expect nothing less. He'd probably give it to her even harder than he had with those other girls. He'd fuck her young married pussy like an animal. He'd spank her ass and call her all sorts of humiliating names. His big, calloused hands would run all over her smooth skin and squeeze her massive, perfect breasts roughly, availing his unworthy, wicked palms in her huge, perfect tits, staking out his claim of ownership over her giant breasts. She'd only ever let men who respected her have a peek of the goods, let alone actually touch her. But this man... he had no respect for her, or her marital vows, or her opinions, or anything really. But he was getting a hell a lot closer to the goods than all those other unworthy suitors. And he would let her know of his lack of respect for her by the savage treatment he would no doubt unleash on her. He would be rough on her. He'd show her no mercy. And she would scream. And she would moan. And she would love it.

Bruce was right. Her and Bruce fucking... it would certainly be fucking amazing.

She looked away from the TV into Bruce's amused eyes, and she was certain that he was thinking the exact same thing.

"But you're a married woman, of course," he said, sounding strangely respectful for once. "A married woman with tits like those and that perfect, juicy ass... I bet your hubby can more than handle himself with you. He'd have to lock a bitch like you down. I bet he can give you the exact same thing I could... right?" he asked, already knowing the answer. And the young woman was still so gob-smacked by what she was seeing that she actually answered.

"Well... not exactly like this..." she said softly, her eyes drifting back towards the TV, watching as the older man kept roughly drilling the woman on screen.

"Oh... well, why would you settle for less than you deserve?" he asked. "A woman with that body... fuck... you should be getting that kinda treatment every goddamn night."

"I... I don't think I could handle something like that," she said softly, as on screen, Bruce had the camera in hand and was focused on the woman's tight asshole stretched to the max around his thick, swollen weapon.

"You could. Trust me, you could," Bruce replied, like the devil on her shoulder. Despite herself, her pussy was now soaked, and her nipples were showing through her top, they were so hard. Is that... is what she was seeing... was that what people were actually doing together? Her husband, Derrick... he was always so kind and respectful. He'd never made such demands of her. He let her call the shots in the bedroom, and things between them were closer to making love than... this. This brutal, nasty, unholy fucking on the screen.

"Aren't there days where you just want to be thrown down and drilled until you can't think straight? A young woman like you... you should be getting it rough and nasty all the fucking time. A girl like you should be getting absolutely destroyed in bed by a man who knows exactly what he's doing," Bruce stated. She didn't say anything in reply. She just let him keep talking. "And you know now that I'm one of those men. I know exactly what I'm doing in the bedroom. I'd treat you like my bitch... and we both know you'd love it." She struggled to form words, such a mess she was. He'd repeatedly called her a bitch, and she hadn't spoken up or criticized him. Finally, she came to her own defense.

"No..." she said softly. Weakly.

"No?" he questioned, his voice a bit firmer now. "I've outdebated you on this dumb Christmas shit, I flashed my bulge, and turned on homemade porn in front of you, and you're still here?" he pointed out with a laugh. "Most right-thinking girls would have run out of here long ago. But you... you stayed here, through all of it. And we both know why..." At this, the young wife finally looked away from the screen to look at the smug, seated man.

"Why?" she asked. He sat back and smiled.

"Because, just like all those other fools, you want your Christmas gift from Santa..." he said, reaching down and patting his clothed bulge again. She glanced at it again for a few moments before speaking.

"No..." she replied, shaking her head, staring at his bulge, knowing exactly what it was capable of now. She knew how powerful it was, how amazing it was, and what it could do to a girl. And she hadn't even seen the whole thing yet! But she was married, and she was not the kinda woman to be enticed into such a thing.

"Nonsense," he said, waving off her defense of her marriage and loyalty with a simple hand wave. "Of course, you want this. You want it because you know what it can do... you want it because it's so close to being yours. All you have to do is march your pretty ass over here, get on your knees, and unwrap it..." he said this with a grin, spreading his legs, inviting her forward. She looked long and hard at his bulge, but she still didn't move.

"No... I'm a married woman," she said softly, the argument sounding weak, even to her. She didn't think she'd be so affected by this, but she was jumble of tangled nerves and strange desires. One part of her thought this was crazy and wanted to run. But the other...

"Clearly your husband isn't getting the job done, or you wouldn't still be here," he boasted. True, she'd never experienced anything close to what she saw Bruce doing to those other girls. Not even close. The men that she'd chosen to be with respected her too much to treat her like the sex object she could obviously be. But Bruce could. Fuck, could he ever, because he didn't give a damn about her other than what she could do to pleasure that big, beefy cock of his. Through her confusion, he continued talking. "But we both know that I'd get the job done? You can at least admit that, can't you?" At this, she looked up into his eyes again, and did the only thing she could.

Speak the truth.

"Yes..." she relented. After what she'd just seen... how could she possibly deny it? At this admission, he grinned wide.

"So, we agree that I could fuck you better than your ineffectual, pussy of a husband?" he asked, mockingly, pressing his advantage, and he saw the agreement in her eyes. He continued hammering at her. "We both know I could fuck your brains out... I'd do it so well you'd volunteer to be my bitch. You'd bend over my lap and call me Daddy. You'd go along with whatever awful thing I'd want to do to you, just like all those other girls. I'd make your hot body my property, not your husband's, but mine, and you'd take it all with a smile."

She looked at him and said nothing, all but agreeing with his twisted words by her silence.

"So, march over here, get on your knees, unwrap your Christmas gift, and live your destiny..." he commanded, but she didn't move. She didn't know why she hadn't left. She didn't know why she stayed and let the old codger hammer his twisted world-view into her naive young mind until it began taking hold. She didn't know when this stopped being about Christmas decorations and started being about whether or not she'd give this guy her ass. Was she on some level now wondering if she was missing out on something being with someone who loved her so much that he'd never push her to her limits? Who'd never challenge her in the way this old Grinch had in mere minutes? She lived such a charmed, undaunted, protected existence... did that cause her to find a certain appeal in something so obviously wrong and evil? This being the first time she'd been truly confronted with the real possibility of dark, illicit, savage sex, there was a certain newness to it that was very exciting to her.

"I can't..." she said softly, still resisting the pull of the darkness. "I'm married..."

"Married to a boy, when you need a man," he said confidently. "What you have is a husband, but what you need is a master. You think you're a wife, but what you truly want is to be an older man's bitch. You want to be my bitch... don't you, honey?"

What he was saying was so wrong, but FUCK, did it push her buttons just right! She was so turned on right now. She'd never been this turned on. She didn't know there was this side of her, but he was speaking directly to it. A huge part of her wanted to give in, to submit to this older stud with the massive cock. Almost every fiber in her being was telling her to give in, yet... she just couldn't do it.

She glanced up at Bruce and shook her head, clinging to her marital vows. He paused, appraising the nervous young woman in front of him who was clearly dying to be seduced. Finally, a new tact came to him.

"Your marriage is the only thing holding you back... isn't it?" he asked. At this, she looked up at him and almost immediately nodded, making him grin.

"If you weren't married, if you were single... you'd give in in a second, wouldn't you?" He asked.

"Yes..." she said firmly, before she could think twice. It was the truth. She was so turned on she couldn't think straight. The only thing holding her back right now was the ring on her finger.

"Because you're attracted to me?" he asked.

"Yes..." she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because you want to have sex with me?" he asked.

"Yes..." she repeated. It sounded crazy, but this old man had worn her down. After everything that had gone down, it was the truth. She wanted to have sex with this wicked old man.

"You like the fact that I have a big cock and know how to use it... right?" he asked.

"Yes..." she said again.

"You liked seeing the footage of me making all those other little sluts moan?"

"Yes..."

"I bet it turns you on like crazy imagining you and me in one of those videos... doesn't it?"

"Yes..."

"Me and you... having rough, nasty sex... my cock destroying that tight little cunt of yours... my hands groping those big tits... damn." He paused, even the mere idea of his words becoming reality almost too much for him.

"Mmm..." she groaned, unable to contain it.

"I agree, it would be good," Bruce said. "You wouldn't even be bothered if I showed footage of me and you to the next girl that comes in here and tries to 'reform' me. Would you?"

"No..." she replied, the thought of being used in such a way only turning her on further, as crazy as it sounded.

"You're not gonna forget me, even if you do walk away," he stated. "You'll be imagining me, wishing you gave in. And if you make me wait, I will not show you any mercy, you can believe me."

At this warning, the tough, evil old man wore her down even further. She knew he would back up his words. If she made him wait, he would be ruthless. God, she wanted to give in right now. She really did. But she just couldn't. Not yet.

"You're gonna give in... we both know it," he affirmed. "You'll just stand there and let me keep talking till I talk you out of your clothes. Hon... you deny your own needs because of a husband that can't satisfy you. A husband who is too cowed by you to ever question you. Imagine what you could get away with behind his back..."

It was true. Derrick was kind, and loving, but he was naïve. He was too nice. He trusted in her, to the point where she could do a lot of stuff behind his back without him catching on. She'd never taken advantage of that fact, but knowing that she could...

Bruce studied the young woman. She was squirming, panting for breath, clearly turned on. She was practically licking her lips, she was so close. She just needed a little more push.

"The deal still stands, by the way..." he reminded her. "If you do what I want... I'll be convinced of the spirit of Christmas. I'll put up all the lights and decorations and all that crap. You'll win. All you have to do is swallow your pride, get on your knees, and whore yourself out on behalf of the spirit of Christmas. Whore yourself out to me. Become my bitch and have the time of your life."

Bruce tried not to let slip any of his own desperation. He wanted to fuck the living daylights out of this married bitch more than anything. He wanted to make this sweetheart of a wife scream on his big dick. And he knew he was about to.

This was the moment of truth for the married wife. There was nothing keeping her there. Sure, she was slightly under his spell at the moment, but she knew that if she walked away, and got back into the biting, chilly wind from outside, these thoughts would disappear, and she could resume her life with no regrets. She would surely never think about Bruce, and his big, fat, tasty looking cock ever again. She would never once think about the fact that she hadn't seen the whole thing yet. She would never once think about those illicit home movies ever again. And think about, for one hot second, she actually considered starring in one. She would never once imagine herself in place of those other girls in those movies, the older brute fucking her like an animal, without mercy, fucking her better than her young, kind husband ever could. Without kindness or mercy or respect. She would never once imagine her huge, perfect tits in the manly palms of this evil old man as he squeezed them, sucked them, and used them for his own wicked desires.

Instead, she would have her kind, sweet, loving husband who treated her like a goddess. Who respected her and loved her and would never do anything to disrespect her. A guy who would never hold her down and treat her like a slut. A guy who would never take her to the edge. A guy who would never dominate her in the way she might secretly need. A guy who would never ask her to star in a sex tape. A guy who would give her all the Christmas gifts she would ask for, but never the one she needed.

Or, she could choose Bruce. A huge, brutish, gruff old man who hated Christmas. A piggish, slightly misogynistic old man who talked to women as if they were his to use. Who took pride in how many women he'd lured into his bedroom, where he'd treated them like sluts for his pleasure, recorded them, and showed that footage to others. He was the opposite of what she'd always valued. Guys like him, a pig driven purely by sex, driven to conquer her hot body and be a notch on their bedpost, she'd never given in to men like that. What made Bruce better than them? Sure, it seemed like he had a huge, perfect, mouth-watering cock. And yes, she admittedly was finding him more and more hot the longer they talked. Also, he was big and tall and very well-built, much more fit than her thin intellectual husband. This man was a brute, who did nothing but work, drink, and fuck. And clearly, he was very good at all of them.

She would no doubt scream and cum on this evil old man's huge cock, and in doing so, give this old man incomparable levels of totally undeserved pleasure. Undeserved because this guy did everything the opposite of what she valued. Everything the opposite of what she wanted. He was rude and nasty and deeply unpleasant. He was a bully, a mean old scrooge. He didn't deserve to win. He didn't deserve to get the type of pleasure that should be reserved for nice, kind, respectful guys. But in a way... doesn't that make it better? The fact that he was so bad, so nasty, so forbidden, so... evil... doesn't that just make it more fun in a way? For a girl who lived life in the light, the dark was calling out to her for the first time, and its siren's song was awfully tempting.