into her vulva with his nose and his chin and that damnable ugly moustache of his. She hated him! God, how she hated him! He had not been content, this wicked terrible man, with deserting her. He’d chosen to come back and totally ruin her life. Caron’s nostrils twitched nervously. She could feel the simmering excitement in the pit of her churning stomach.
His fingers stiffened inside her, fucking into Caron as if he had a cock in his hand. She screamed, tossed, bucked, and then she was coming and it felt as if she would never stop coming. Her body rocked and twitched in the throes of her orgasm and hot sticky juice leaked from the mouth of her snatch. He’d never been that good, she told herself. Not when they were man and wife. He’d never made her come, not once, in all their past relationship. She hadn’t been good either, just a frigid woman, but if he’d been as adept as he’d just shown himself to be, she’d have melted in no time. Fear began to crowd the inner reaches of Caron’s mind—tense, terrible fear.
She tried to think of other things, but it was hard, so hard. Melissa making a conquest in the house. He’d snickered something about that, grinned when she defended Paul’s devotion, when she said it wasn’t possible. And she knew it was true. Paul could never be excited by such a cheap, trashy tart. Sure, he’d looked at her tits. So had Caron. That didn’t mean she was hot for the little whore. Anyway, who could help looking at the damned things? They stuck out like artillery, distorting the printed HOORAY FOR HOLLYWOOD legend across her front; the nipples rigid under the skin tight cotton, her ass wiggling like a shithouse door in a gale whenever she walked. Some men would find that attractive. Obviously Lou had. Most likely, Lou would find a piece of moss growing on a rock attractive. He’d become an animal during his wanderings, an ugly dangerous animal. He belonged in a cage.
But what the hell did he mean about Melissa making a conquest? What the hell was he talking about? Thinking about that occupied her mind while Lou’s hands and mouth continued to ravish her unwilling but orgasmic pussy, allowed her to fog out the humiliations he was forcing upon her. Twenty-four hours ago she had thought the man was certainly dead, but this was no corpse eating her pussy.
His fingers worked in her twat and she moaned again, an unwilling and agony-full moan, but God, it felt so good, even if it was rape, it felt so good down there, the lips of her pussy raw from lust and arousal, the juice sticky wet all over her genitals, seeping out to dampen her hedge of pubic hair. His tongue, sloshing wickedly through her cuntal froth, tickling her budlike clit, working through the folds and crevices of her privates. And his fingers, stroking at her. Gentle fingers, really, she decided, not nearly so animalistic as they’d been at first. It was almost as if he were starting to make love, rather than take his pleasure in rape.
What came next? She couldn’t remember. The bed creaked, and it felt lighter, less occupied, and she wanted to open her eyes but she was afraid to. She heard the sound of a zipper, and she did open her eyes. Lou stood beside the bed, dropping his faded jeans. His cock jumped out as the pants went down, and it was in gigantic erection, that prick of his—enormous, towering, like a battering ram that jutted from his loins and the patch of hair at the base.
Caron sat up, eyes bulging. It had been seven years. Had he been so big then, too? God, he must have been! Men of his age didn’t experience sudden spurts of penile growth. But she hadn’t remembered him that way, not so huge, so monstrous, so… so…
She clutched at her breasts, trying to cover herself from the proud thrust of that incredible prick. Big, swollen, with a glowing ruby knob the size of both her eyeballs, put together. A slight curve up the jutting length, as if he were beginning to form himself into the shape of a crescent. “Oh, my God, no,” she said, pointing, “there is no bloody way—I won’t let you use that thing on me —absolutely not —Lou —for the love of God —Louuuuuuuu…”
Her voice died away in a trembling whimper as he climbed onto the bed naked, his cock fully erect, the tight scrotum flesh clinging lewdly to the huge stones of his testicles. They jiggled beneath his lancing dong. Caron took a deep breath, but, her lungs refused to fill up. She felt as if she were strangling. She couldn’t speak, only whisper. “I will not,” she told him in a low, almost inaudible voice. “I most certainly absolutely Goddamned fucking NEVER will not! No, Lou, no, no, noooooo…”
“Lie down,” he said. “Flat on your back.” He raised his hand and she was very frightened, afraid he’d hit her again. He’d done that twice already, not really hurting her but startling her, reminding Caron that men were, after all, the stronger sex. And he was a man. If nothing else, the vivid thrust of his erect cock proved that point. Her heart skipped a beat and she lay down, shivering.
Lou straddled her chest, his hips settling down upon her shaking tits. His flesh was hot, nearly as heated as her aroused hippies. He pressed down upon Caron, grinding his ass against her chest. Her hips twitched and she moaned, “No, please Lou, I’m sorry for everything I said, but don’t…”
He was already angling his cock down, toward her mouth. “Suck it Caron. Open your pretty little mouth and suck it. You always had some excuse for not doing that when I was living with you before, but I’ve heard all the excuses. What I want now is a blow job, and something tells me that I’m going to get a damned good one. Anyway, look at my prick. You haven’t seen it in seven years. Don’t you even have a little hello kiss saved up for me?” He grinned, pushed the tip of his dick against Caron’s lips.
She stifled the urge to scream because that would have opened her mouth widely, given her tormentor the impetus and opportunity to shove it in. But his cock tickled her lips, and she trembled, and before she knew it her lips had parted ever so slightly and the end of Lou’s rod was flush against her teeth and she felt tears well in her eyes. It wouldn’t be so bad. Once she’d hated the very thought of this act, but that was a long time ago. Only yesterday afternoon she’d sucked Paul’s cock, giggled as his cum spurted into her face, into her mouth. It wouldn’t kill her, even if it was Lou’s prick. And if she refused, God only knew what he might do in his anger.
Caron closed her tear-filled eyes and she unclenched her teeth. Lou thrust hard into her mouth, filling her with the bulk and heat of his stiff, strange-tasting cock. She gasped, summoned her courage, and then she began to suckle him. Not enthusiastically, but her lips were working and they could not help but be felt by Lou.
“Is that your mouth, Caron, or did I take a wrong turn and wind up in somebody else’s bed? I can’t fucking believe it. You’re really sucking me! I can feel your tongue floating around, and your mouth is full of spit. I’ll bet that if I went deeper, if I gave it a nice big hard shove, you wouldn’t even gag. You’d open your throat and take me as deep as I wanted to go. Right? Grunt if you want to put any money on it, Caron. Don’t want to bet? No matter. You’re getting it anyway, and… here goes! Oh, hot shit!”
He grabbed the sides of her head, lifting her slightly from the pillow, and humped his cock into her mouth for what seemed an eternity. He was true to his word. The head of his dong slipped into Caron’s throat. She wanted to gag, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t that bad. She’d done this very act for Paul, more times than she could count, and the trick was simple. It had to do with breath and muscle control. Anyone could learn it, anyone who really wanted to. And now she was using her sexual education, using it for the pleasure of a man she hated with all her heart and soul.
He was big, thicker than Paul. Why didn’t she remember that? Could seven years wipe out all those memories? But she’d never really sucked him when they were man and wife. She’d pleasured him in bed as infrequently as she could manage.
“If I’d known you were this talented,” she heard him say, “I’d never have left you. You open any deeper, I’m gonna be fucking your throat. Would you like that, baby?”
He tasted salty, like ham, she decided, and when the end of his cock brushed the tip of her tongue, she could taste the faintest sampling of the jism that was already starting to leak from his pecker. His jizz? Once she’d have been ready to puke at the thought of sperm in her oral sanctuary, but that was a long time ago, and another Caron. She’d sipped gallons of sperm since the last time she’d seen Lou. It tasted good and she loved to drink it. But not Lou’s. Oh, she’d show the cocksucker! She’d take his cum into her mouth, suck till he’d finished shooting, and she’d collect the stuff in her cheeks, under her tongue. Her throat would be shut off tightly, by God. And when he was done coming, when his cock had softened and slipped from her greasy mouth, she would look up at him. No. She’d get up, as soon as he was off her, and she’d put her arms around his neck and she’d give him the biggest wettest kiss he’d ever gotten.
Oh, what a kiss it would be! She’d spit his cum into his grinning superior face. She’d spit it all over him, every fucking drop of his lousy seed! And she’d laugh like a hyena while he turned purple and green and every other color under the sun, trying to wipe the scum off his features. Yes, Caron thought, the upper hand is coming back to me. But that would only be the start. When she was finished, his ass would be better off dead.
“Suck harder, baby, I think I’m almost there,” he was telling her. “Jesus, you have a mouth and a half. Feels like two chicks giving me head at the same time. I don’t know who taught you how to blow, but he deserves a medal. I think I came home at just the right time, baby. I’ve caught you in your prime. May not go away again. Suck in your cheeks. Vacuum me. Mmmm, yeah, I could sweep floors with that mouth of yours. Do it tight. I won’t break.
