Without any sort of hesitation he crawled over me then dropped down on top of me. He was frail and weighed very little, and so I didn't mind the pressure of his body on mine. It excited me. I purred at him, absolutely beaming as he sunk his glistening cock into my tight-as-a-dream pussy. He certainly wasn't the largest man I'd ever had inside of me, but he made up for it with his crazed eagerness.
For a moment I was afraid that the pleasure of that first thrust had given him a heart attack. He collapsed against me entirely and didn't move. I felt him throbbing within my moistened walls, and he was breathing erratically, his hot breath pounding against my face, our mouths mere inches apart.
But then he began to move, like a great machine left over from the factories of the industrial revolution. He was all gears and pistons and methodical movement, even if there was a hunger to his thrusting. He buried his face against my breasts and I felt him drool, his mouth open as his lips bit every mouthful of breast-flesh that he could find. The stubble on his neck and cheeks was even sharper than his pubic hair had been, and I gasped at the vicious pleasure of his face scraping my blemish-free breasts. Have at them, old man. Have at them.
His back arched somewhat and his hands grabbed my bare shoulders. He wasn't strong, but his hips kept his cock thrusting into my pussy, digging and burrowing, claiming my sweet depths like some sort of wizened explorer plunging his flag into the soft earth of a foreign land. One of my hands cradled his greasy hair as he slobbered over, and sucked on, my breasts, stubble scratching them endlessly with even his smallest of movements. My other hand gripped his ass, pushing him into me with an even greater force.
I let him have his pathetically exuberant way with me, lying still beneath him as he consumed my younger flesh like some antique monstrous turbine. He continued to jabber, but his voice was muffled and lost within the mounds of my breasts, and without any variance, he continued raiding my tingling and dripping pussy. I was breathing heavily, and I pulled his body down against mine, deep into mine, relentlessly. I clung to him and moaned with ever breath as he systematically fucked me. He may not have been conscious of the pleasure, but I sure as hell was. My pussy was aching and my flesh was taunt with rigid rapture, and for the life of me, I couldn't keep quiet. I loved his deliberate fucking and his bony, stubbly flesh. I loved how frail he was compared to my youthful body, and I loved how his slobbering, mumbling mouth never left my breasts. I honestly wondered how the hell he was breathing, but I was to distracted by the deliberate and unavoidable orgasm that was building within me with a fierce kick.
I was positively yelling now, grunting with the voice of a savage animal, growling like the well-fucked woman that I was. I was pressing him against me so tightly I was sure his body would bruise, or maybe even break. My mind was blank and filled with electricity. The tension throughout my entire body was reaching a precipice of pure sexual pressure, and I was desperate for the release that only an orgasm could bring. I was going to explode either way soon, and I much preferred the route of pleasure.
I wondered if this badger with his crazy focus and perfect stubble would ever cum, or if I would be trapped with him inside of me forever, his body continuing to hump my pussy as time spiraled forward, until we were both hundreds of years past the point of logical death, still locked in a never-ending alleyway fuck, a tourist attraction for generation after generation of curious sightseer. As I wondered this, almost as crazy as the bum with the tension within, he gave a sort of startled cry and collapsed on top me, his cock shoving decades of unused cum inside of me. His cock showered me with what seemed to be half his total body weight, and the look in his eyes was pure astonished pleasure. It was as if he finally understood what was happening to him, and he was wild with the realization of it. His cock continued to flood me with slinging spurt after slinging spurt, the length of his member pressing against the internal wet flesh of my quivering pussy, my lips sucking hungrily at his shaft as if it could consume him, pull him fully inside of me until he disappeared.
At that moment I fell right over the edge of the orgasm and tumbled with the weight of a boulder into the depths of nerve-shattering ecstasy. I screamed and wailed so loudly that I would have been amazed that the police hadn't arrived yet, if only I had the ability to formulate full thoughts. I wrapped my long legs around his frail and spent body, and long after he finished pumping me full of cum, I continued to moan, writhing against the concrete, my thin jacket still a halo of charcoal.
* * * * *
When I finished dressing I looked down at him. He lay face down against the ground of the alley, his pants still collected at his ankles. He was passed out, just like I had found him, with the small exception that he had just spent an hour fucking me like the relentless march of the mountains of ice that had once covered Minneapolis during the numerous ice ages of the past.
I left him exactly as he was. I was through with him, after all. The least I could have done was pull his pants up for him, but like I said, there's not a single element of tenderness in my fetish of misery and weakness. I'm a heartless bitch that gets off on the power, like I told you in the beginning, and I didn't owe the old badger any favors.
I stumbled out of the alley, amazed at the weakness in my knees, remembering the middle-aged man that I had tortured earlier that day, and the way his knees had nearly failed him too. I smiled despite myself.
For a moment, I thought I saw the judging eyes of Danielle as I emerged from the alley, but I was mistaken. I was seeing things. Nonetheless, I was promptly sobered. The tumult of emotions returned to me, as did the sensation of feeling my control ebbing away from me. I had much to think about as I walked towards my Lake Street apartment, and I was still thinking when I slipped my keys into the lock on my door. I had a feeling that I wouldn't be done thinking for a while.
I wondered if the argument today signaled the start of some new era in my life, or if it was a temporary storm that would have dissipated by the time I returned to the penthouse tomorrow. I moved to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Merlot from my liquor shelf, all the while feeling the imagined eyes of Danielle, and Wallace too, on my back.
Looking back on that night now, I realized that I had no clue what lay before me.
You see, my reader, my story has only just begun.
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