The Pawn

He realizes he has never been as hard as this before, that this is arousing him too, "Ready whore?" he asks.

"Yes sir," she answers in a high voice, "Please go easy on me sir! It's my first time as a whore sir!"

Michael positions his right hand on top her hips too, clamps down, then plows inside her, all the way up to his balls in one stroke. She screams, scaring him for a moment, then, "Shit, I hope I didn't wake Mischka..." Next he feels her stretched pussy tremble around his cock, she moans loud, "God that felt good... Now fuck me hard." He does as asked, and starts to fuck her fast and deep. Half a dozen full strokes and her pussy clamps down on him as she cums, her screaming muffled. He does what he normally wouldn't have done: he just keeps fucking her rippling sheath.

He doesn't last very long himself, the whole naughty fantasy has gotten him really revved up too, but he still lasts long enough to give her two additional orgasms, of an ever more explosive nature, before he feels his seed starting to churn inside his balls. He starts to fuck her even harder, staying deep now. "Oooh," she moans, "I can feel you swell." He manages another half dozen short strokes, then his balls jolt as semen rushes up his cock and he slams himself balls deep inside her. He groans loudly, "Yes," she wails, "fill your whore." Then she cums hard too.

He keeps cumming, harder, and longer, than ever before. She screams muffled by the comforter every time another spurt of semen erupts deep inside her. When it's over he needs a moment to collect his wits, then he snaps back into his role again. He pulls out of her, leaving her pussy sopping and slurping, as an incredibly lustful moan escapes her. He walks over to the other side of the bed, kneeling down on top of it, then shuffles towards where she has buried her face in the comforter. He grabs her by her braid, lifting her head by it, "For ten Euros you're going to clean me too whore."

***

Natasha lifts herself up on her elbows, enabling him to lift her head further without hurting her. She opens her mouth wide, whimpering softly, and he simply pushes his still half-hard sperm and pussy juices dripping cock inside. He moans loud as her tongue starts cleaning him, feels her moan with pleasure around his cock, then he feels her start to swallow, and to his amazement his cock starts to harden again.

She feels it too, and starts to moan even louder. Soon he's clean, and as hard as rock again. He pulls out of her mouth, and lets go of her braid - her head stays up, "Ready for round two?" he whispers.

"Oh god yes," she moans, "I never thought you would be able to." He reaches for his wallet, her eyes following his hand, and picks it up from the bed beside her. He slowly opens the zip. She moans in anticipation, as he pulls another ten Euro bill out, dropping it next to the one already laying on the bed below her face.

"For this one you're actually going to have to work," he says. She whimpers loudly, sinking down on her elbows again. For a moment he considers making her ride him, but it's clear she needs it from behind again, so from behind she's going to get it. He shuffles back, then grabs her by her braid once more and lifts her head a second time. He moves his head next to hers, "Just out of curiosity, who are you imagining is fucking you?" he whispers.

Her eyes lock with his, "Well, he's Dutch, he also has a rather big cock, and I just feel that beneath that rough exterior he's really this nice guy you could trust with your life, AND your pussy." She smiles softly, pecks his cheek, "The fantasy is only about the situation honey, not about the man, I don't need to fantasize about the man, I already have the man." He says nothing, just lets go of her braid, letting her head drop down, but his heart blossoms. He slides of the bed, moving around it, behind her raised buttocks again.

Her labia are red and swollen; semen is leaking out of her gaping pussy, dripping down the insides of her thighs. She wants this, he thinks, needs this. And if she needs it so do you. He pushes his fat glans against her slit again, rubbing her engorged and protruding clit a bit. She moans loud at that, then he pulls up and pushes the tip inside her opening.

She whimpers. "Now fuck your whore bendy legged," she moans, "I don't want to be able to walk anymore by the time you're finished with me."

He moves his hands on top her buttocks, kneads the firm creamy flesh, then slides them down over her lower back, to her sides, then under her chest. Her breasts overfill his hands, "You have nice tits whore," he remarks, then he kneads them roughly, trying to determine what she can handle. She wails softly, "Too hard?" he whispers.

She shakes her head, "No, it all turns into pleasure, just use those tits." He grabs her firm flesh, then plows up to his balls inside her again. She drops her head the moment he slams himself inside her, her screams muffled by the comforter. He starts fucking her forcefully again, his hands working her breasts, then concentrating on her rock hard nipples. She soon cums hard again, but this time he has the stamina to keep going. She cums again and again as he fucks and fucks her, her rippling pussy desperately milking his cock for seed.

He pulls his cock out of her, and she wails, disappointed, "Center of the bed whore," he groans, "on your back, heels pointing at the ceiling." She crawls further onto the bed and rolls over onto her back, spreading herself wide, her legs all the way back. He had followed her, taking the sight of her in again: the desire in her eyes, her spread open pussy, her inviting asshole, the lingerie, fuck she looks hot! He crawls on top of her, placing her legs in front of him, folding her beneath him. His cock head bumps against her butt, and she wails in anticipation.

He aims with his hips, feels the head slide between her labia, another small adjustment and he's pressing against her opening again. "This is it whore," he groans, "I'm going to pound that cunt of yours so hard you won't be working for a week." She wails softly with anticipation, his hips buck, her screams muffled as he plows inside her, all the way up to his balls again. He can hear them slap against her exposed ass.

He realizes he has never been as deep inside her as this before, that he has bottomed out inside her, "Ooh god," she moans, no sign of pain in her voice. He pulls all the way back, starting to fuck her hard again with long strokes, making her wail with pleasure. He shifts his weight onto his left hand, lifts the right and starts kneading her shaking breasts, plucking at her fully erect nipples. "You have nice tits," he groans, "and you have a tight cunt, for a whore. You're going to be popular."

She cums, wailing, her stretched sheath rippling around his plowing cock. Soon beads of sweat start to run down his face, he realizes the end is drawing near, feels his cock starting to swell. She feels it too, her wailing gets needy, and she tightens her pussy around him every time he bottoms out inside her. He starts to lose control, and he lets his eyes drift up from her shaking tits to connect with hers. Her blue pools are burning with wanton lust - he can smell her need, her need for his seed.

His mind starts to shut down, until only one thing remains, "Oh Natasha," he groans, then he explodes deep inside her. Her sheath contracts around his squirting cock, squeezing him hard. She cums too, her hands clawing at his back. They melt into each other, become one as their orgasmic fluids mingle, a single two-headed beast roaring its pleasure. It bucks and trembles, for what feels like eternity, and then it's over.

***

Slowly they become two again, as their individual minds regain coherency. Her breath is still labored, so he lifts himself on his hands, removing his weight from her chest. Her eyes become pools of swirling emotions as she regains control over herself. "Was that what you needed honey?" he whispers. Tears start to run from the corners of her eyes, her expression tells him they are happy tears. She nods slowly, her ample chest still heaving.

He slowly lifts his hips, pulling out, leaving her still trembling sheath with an obscene wet plop. Next he slowly releases her legs one by one, guiding them back down onto the soft bed, with her whimpering softly. Her eyes are now questioning him, they show a mix of shame and fear. She just bared her soul to him, exposed her most private sexual desires, he realizes she now fears mockery and contempt.

He smiles softly, "You just gave me all of you, all there is to have; that means so much to me." His eyes moisten, "I feel I need to prove myself worthy of your trust. My heart is yours Natasha, to do with as you please." Her eyes brighten, she shivers, he lowers his head, kisses her deeply; she replies eagerly, devouring his mouth with hers.

When he comes up for air her eyes lock with his, "Now show me yours," she whispers.

He knows what she means; all the reluctance, shame, and fear, that would normally have made him hold his tongue just evaporates, "I want to fuck your ass. I want to hear you beg for it. I want to feel you come when I fill it with my sperm."

She moans softly, he feels her lift her thighs, spreading them, "Then feel me, feel my ass." He reaches down, his fingers sliding down her pubis, he feels her still exposed engorged clit, she whimpers softly, "Careful, it's still so sensitive!" He traces her slit down, feeling her pussy is still gaping. He can feel large amounts of spunk flowing out of it. Her crack is dripping, covered in slimy goo, her juices, and his sperm. But that only helps him to find her wrinkled little star.

He rubs her sphincter softly, feeling her tremble, "Now! Push your big finger all the way inside," she moans, "and fuck me with it. Let me feel how it will be." He hesitates, then groaning loudly, he places the tip of his middle finger against her slippery anus and pushes the tip inside. She whimpers softly, as he pulls out, and recoats his finger with their mingled juices, then pushes it inside again. This time he doesn't stop until the entire finger is inside her; she whimpers all the way. It feels tight, very tight. Her sphincter clamps down on his finger hard: she feels incredibly hot inside.

He starts pumping her ass slowly; little yelps escape her, and he recognizes discomfort, hesitates. "No," she moans, "don't stop." Resistance slowly diminishes, and as it does her tone changes, then a soft moan escapes her, "Oh yes, I could sure get used to this."

He pulls his finger out, it leaves her with a plop, and she moans disappointed, "I have a thick cock," he says, "You'll need some preparation, I don't want to hurt you." Her head lifts from the mattress, she parts her lips; the invitation clear. He lowers his head, and they kiss deeply again.

She drops her head again, breaking the kiss, "Have you.., before.., with other women I mean."

He slowly shakes his head, "No, I didn't even dare ask." He pushes up, kneeling, then leans back on his heels between her spread legs. His eyes wander all over her beautiful naked body: the lingerie turns her into this sex goddess, the mess between her legs makes her his sex goddess. "God you're beautiful," he groans softly, "and sexy." He moves back, off the bed, to the en-suite, where he cleans his finger, before taking out a fresh washcloth and moistening it.

She's still laying as he left her when he returns; her eyes are closed, and she's breathing softly. He moves back between her spread thighs, her eyes flitter open, and he starts cleaning her with the washcloth, starting with her pussy. Her labia are red and swollen, her entrance is still gaping, but her clit has softened a bit. The flow out of her seems to have come to a stop, he tenderly spreads her folds, mopping up the mess they made. She moans softly, her voice sounds surprised, "I've never.., I feel no shame. Laying here before you exposed like this. No shame at all."

He slowly works his way up; a soft whimper escapes her as he nears her clit, and he feels her muscles tighten, "Don't worry," he whispers, "I'll be careful." She relaxes, letting him clean the top of her slit, avoiding her sensitive nub. Next he cleans her crack, her asshole, and the insides of her thighs, then wipes up what has leaked on top of the comforter. He folds the washcloth, then leaves the bed, switching on his bedside lamp, then walks into the en-suite and drops the folded washcloth in the laundry bin.

On the way back he switches off the main light. Returning to the bed he finds she still hasn't moved, so he removes her heels, then unclasps the straps of her garter belt and removes her stockings. She lifts her butt as he removes the garter-belt itself. Then he pulls the comforter from beneath her, she lowers her legs, rolling onto her side of the bed. He drapes the comforter over her, then slides beneath it beside her. She moans softly as he moves against her and pulls her close, facing her.

"I never would have guessed you were this naughty," he says.

She smiles softly, "Only with you Michael, and you're very cute when you underestimate me." He kisses her face, and she locks eyes with him, "Do you now realize what a grave error of judgment you made earlier today?" He frowns, she moves her left hand up from beneath the comforter, into his field of vision. She turns the back towards him, spreads her fingers, then wiggles them. His eyes lock on the ring, the ring with the three red rubies, and his heart surges.

"Oh Natasha..," he manages, she nods encouragingly, smiling softly, "would you.., would you marry me?"

She beams, nods, then snuggles up to him, "Yes Michael, mind, body, and soul. I love you." He doesn't know what to reply. "Oh," she says, "and there's one other thing; girls that have gotten sex without love need a lot of love afterwards..." He could cry, from happiness, switching off the bedside light, he hugs her close. He kisses her face, the nape of her neck, his hands roaming all over her, caressing her. She purrs, "Oh yes Michael, that's exactly what I was talking about."

***

In the privacy of the ladies room cubicle Nicky had cried for what felt like an hour, and then Susan and Lucy, her bridesmaids, came knocking at the door, telling her Peter was looking for her. She had had to come out, after which Susan posted Lucy outside the door, to keep everyone out, and then helped her fix her make up. The girls wanted to know what was wrong, she told them it was just her pregnancy playing up, but read on their faces they weren't believing any of it.

When she returned to the hall Peter had taken her aside. "You've been talking to Michael, haven't you?" he asked. She denied it, "Don't lie to me, I can see it in your face. What did you tell him?"

She had caved in, "Nothing, just that I was sorry for what has happened."

He had scrutinized her face for what felt like an eternity, then he nodded, "Alright, I'll take your word for it - this time. Which doesn't mean you haven't been disobedient, for which you will be punished."

The rest of the evening had passed in a blur, with her desperately trying to keep up appearances. She felt relief when Peter finally stood, called for everyone's attention, and then declared the happy couple were now going to retreat to the bridal suite, for obvious reasons. The guests had all laughed at the latter remark, and she had done her best to laugh too.

And now here she is, following him up to that bridal suite, for the traditional consummation of her marriage. She's not looking forward to it, despite the fact that Peter often manages to make her cum. When they arrive at the suite Peter opens the door and pushes her roughly inside, she half stumbles, and then she wails softly, her eyes taking in the three men sitting on the side of the bed. She knows them, they are associates of his, they are also all men who have used her before.

She hears the door close behind her, turns halfway around towards Peter, "Please," she begs, "you promised..."

He slaps her in the face, "You disobeyed me, so now you're going to get punished. Now I'm going to watch you service these three good friends of mine, like the whore you are."

She starts to cry, "No, please." He pushes her backwards, towards the bed, she nearly stumbles again. "Please Peter, I'm four months pregnant!"

He grins, "They don't care, and neither will that little bastard growing inside you." He confirms her suspicions, which is actually a relief. He grabs her arm and turns her around, to face the men, then lets go, "Undress whore, unless you want for them to do it for you." She takes the men in again, one of them is the one who told her, only hours ago, he was 'so sorry to see her removed from the market'. The worst of it is that she knows that, sooner or later, her body will betray her. That before the night is over she will succumb to her perverse desires, and turn into the wanton whore she hates.

She straightens her back, wipes her tears away, then starts to undress. This is what she has brought upon herself, the punishment for placing her status before everything else, for her lack of faith in the man who loved her, and for her own stupidity. The three men get up and start to undress too, Peter sits himself down in a chair, he won't interfere, he'll just be watching. Peter will collect his dues after the three men have left, satisfying himself inside her abused, sperm dripping cunt, like the fucking pervert he is.

*** To be continued ***

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