Her best friend Carla, whose divorce followed her own by a year and change, was the catalyst that drove Marie to consider breaking her self-imposed celibacy. Carla burned through at least a half dozen men in the last year alone. In some ways, Marie was jealous, but something buried deep inside prevented her from re-entering the dating game. Many of their conversations shared over a bottle of chardonnay centered on Carla’s sexual escapades, and rarely did any of the details get left out, nor was there any shortage of advice offered to Marie. On more than one occasion, Marie was accused of living her life vicariously through Carla and the ample parade of men and sex missing in her own life. That would soon change.

“You realize, Marie, if you don’t get laid within three years of divorcing that worthless pig of a husband, you’re going to need your unit Tefloned. I’m serious. It’s going to dry up and be worthless,” Carla explained, needling her friend. “I’ve even heard an unused pussy will grow shut sooner or later. Then where'll you be?”

Marie hissed under her breath, “You’re so nasty, Carla. You’re so…so…available you'll never have to worry about anything growing shut – especially that filthy little mouth of yours.”

Carla held up both hands in mock protest. “Hey now, my guys love my filthy little mouth.”

“Wrapped around their filthy little dicks, I’m guessing,” Marie replied instantly.

“Sweetie, it’s been so long since you’ve had a filthy little dick, I’ll bet you’ve forgotten what to do with one.”

Marie looked at her friend for a few seconds before responding. “I’m not sure...” she said, pausing, leaving her reply hanging, distracted by inner thoughts and the telltale glow of remembering something left years behind.

Carla took her friend's unfinished sentence as a confession of truth. “See! Told you so!”

“No!” Not that,” said Marie, refocusing on the moment.

“Ok then…not sure about what?” Carla prodded.

“It’s just that…” Again, she paused; hesitating.

“C’mon, Mar. Out with it.”

Marie waved off her thought dismissively. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Hon, it’s everything. You owe it to yourself to feel alive again. You work. You sleep. And then you go back to work. On the rare occasion you try to work me into that hectic schedule of yours to share some conversation and a little alcohol. I miss the old you, sweetie. The vibrant woman in you has become...well...non-existent.”

Carla’s sarcasm softened, mixing with caring for a good friend. “You need to rediscover her. You need to go back out there, and do it for yourself.”

“Carla, I’ve thought about it. I really have, but I don’t want to get entangled in another relationship. I just don’t feel like I’m ready…”

“Jesus! It’s been nearly three years. Who’s not ready for some sheet-ripping, ass-grabbing sex after three years?”

“It’s not the sex part; it’s the attachments that come with it. I don’t want to complicate my life with a man. Honestly, Carla, I don’t need a man to be complete,” explained Marie.

Carla rocked back in her seat and stifled a sharp laugh, and began to gesture like an evangelist. “Fuck complete! I’m talking about getting laid, girl! I’m talking about having a man pushing your legs open and fucking your brains out. The only thing 'complete' about what I’m suggesting is you getting fucked ‘completely’ out of your mind.”

Again, Marie fell silent and looked steadily at her friend. Her words had truth to them despite the vulgarity of her delivery. She imagined hands pushing her legs apart – hard hands – calloused hands – sliding up her thighs, across soft belly and over ribs, reaching to squeeze her breasts. Hands that would ultimately pin her wrists over her head and force her to submit to deep driving thrusts. Yes, these things were sorely missed though suppressed for several years. With Carla's posturing, they were becoming a lot more than missed. Maybe Carla was right. Maybe she needed to rediscover things she'd buried and pushed aside as unnecessary. This was definitely a need she'd overlooked and fought to ignore for way too long.

Marie sighed in resignation and nodded her agreement. “You’re right. I need to just give in...and get myself laid.”

“Laid, hell! You need to get yourself fucked into next week. It’ll do wonders for your outlook on life, and it’ll get your juices flow…”

“Okay, okay! Enough with the convincing. I’ll consider it…seriously, before anything grows shut,” promised Marie.

Carla leaned forward to put closure on the deal. “Alright then. Tell you what. I’ve got the perfect guy for you.”

“Oh no!” protested Marie, waving a discrete time-out. “I don’t want one of your cast-off stallions crawling all over me.”

Carla laughed and shook her head. “No way, sister! My stable belongs to me. None of my men are for sale or for use as loaners. You’re my best friend, Mar, but there’s a line in the sand I have to draw right there.”

“Ahh...afraid I might suck one of them off better than you are ya?” Marie challenged with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Hah! I doubt you could dethrone the queen in that category, but I must say I do like the fact that you’re showing a little spunk in that regard.”

The wine was bolstering Marie's bravado and daring. “I think that’s exactly what I need; a little spunk. No! Change that. I need a lot of spunk. I need it in me...on me...all over me.”

Carla's mouth hung open, feigning disbelief. “Slow down there, hotshot. You’ve been out of practice for three years. You could dislocate your tongue or chip a tooth or something.”

They both laughed. Carla began to talk logistics. ”I think you need to start with something simple like dinner. The man I’m thinking about is a good friend of one of my guys. He builds houses. Really a nice guy.”

“You’ve met him?” asked Marie.

“Yep! Nice looking, mid-forties. A stocky, hard-working kind of man.”

“Sounds nice, but…God, he’s going to think I’m fat,” said Marie.

“Oh stop it, Marie. Forty years and gravity have been very kind to you, my dear.”

“Forty-three.”

“Hey, none of us are perfect anymore. Christ, Mar, what happened to ‘spunk-girl’ who was sitting here a few minutes ago?”

Marie folded her arms across her chest; mind made up. “OK, OK. I’m in. Set it up.”

* * *

His name was Colin Frazier, a Scot, red-headed, freckled, and complete with steel-blue eyes. The only things Marie could see missing were kilt, pipes and a Highland accent. Carla described him perfectly, although Marie didn't expect stocky to include a six-foot frame. But the description fit when she took into account how strong and broad his shoulders were. Could be he built houses with his bare hands. They spoke sparingly, though it wasn’t for lack of conversation topics. Dialogue was anchored by anxiety that comes as a package deal on first dates. To make matters worse, it was a blind first date. Marie struggled to drown out the voice of logic continuously reminding her how foolish and reckless she was to agree to dinner alone with this man on their first meeting. All that kind of logic aside, there was another voice attempting to balance caution and common sense with other things common to desires of a 40-something-year old woman; the voice of things-women-want. Sure it was only a dinner date, and she was hungry, but food was well down the list of things she hungered for most.

Marie knew she'd come to a crossroads. One look across the table and the voices in her head slowly began to resolve her internal differences. Logic melted into a puddle left by growing need and wantonness. How was she going to make this happen? The basis for accepting the date was to meet for dinner and…yes, she planned to give in to desires she'd neglected for three years. But how was she to orchestrate that? She couldn’t just tell him what she wanted. Her mind was busy with confusing details of what and how and when. Three years had truly been a long time, and she knew not where to begin.

“White or red?” he asked as he scanned the wine list.

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied.

Colin looked up from the wine list. “Yes it does. It always matters.”

Marie looked into his eyes, searching for what was behind his words. Why was he not smiling? Was he unforgiving of her indecision? Was he displeased with her? Did he think she was fat? A hundred questions zipped in and out of her head threading their way around and through a growing doubt she should even be there in the first place.

His eyes went back to the list as he spoke. “Wine is an important part of any meal. Permit me to order for you, and I’ll take you on a little journey.”

“Okay." She hesitated before adding a nudge in the direction she wanted to go. "A journey would be nice.”

There it was – hint of a smile. It was in his eyes, and it curled slightly at the corners of his mouth revealing a crooked little grin. Was it devilment or danger? Why didn't he smile until after she agreed to the journey? Where would they go? And what did he mean by journey? So many questions remained unanswered. She wanted to go. She wanted to let go. Truthfully, she wanted to be forced to let go. She wanted to be taken – taken on this journey – taken over and over.

Colin was not what she’d describe as the perfect man, but then she knew she was far from the perfect woman. She remembered Carla’s words and looked into those fascinating eyes for the substance that made the man. There was something beyond the icy blue that touched her differently than any other eyes she'd looked into in quite some time. It didn't matter he was a bit thick around the middle and losing some hair above his temples; all the things middle age was expected to provide for a man. Redeeming qualities of full, sensual lips and mysteries behind his crooked little grin were matched by neatly groomed and very strong looking fingers and hands. His eyes were alive, captivating, and his gaze exuded power and certainty. Those eyes held potential to take her wherever he wanted to go, and she sensed he knew exactly how to get there too.

“So where’s this little journey going to take us, Colin?” she asked softly, swirling his choice of chilled chardonnay in the wineglass held lightly in her fingertips.

The smile was gone again, and he cocked an eyebrow slightly. “Little?”

She was flustered by his short answer; unsure what she should say…what should she have said…what he meant by asking. The ‘Oh, why was she here?’ question churned in her stomach again, but was quickly dispelled by growing curiosity.

He warmed slightly. “Let me decide where this journey takes us. Whether it’s a little journey or not...is up to you.”

“Me?” she asked.

“You,” he said flatly, saying nothing else, offering no further explanation. Once more he'd spoken directly and to the point; his point, whatever that might have been.

He tossed back the swallow of wine left in his glass and lifted the bottle from the ice bucket to pour another. The mystery of what his intentions may be caused a flutter of anticipation in her stomach. His matter-of-fact answers were short and direct. He took little time to think before answering. Apparently, he knew what he wanted. Something about his directness and quick answers added to the sense of power she sensed within his eyes. He exuded power, and she started to feed off it. It made her weak and at the same time strong. There was a silent ache beginning to beg for his…touch, his mouth, his cock…it didn’t matter, but it did. It always mattered, didn’t it? She liked that feeling. She'd forgotten how awesome it was when it raced up her spine and exploded in her brain as full-blown desire. She liked the rush of momentum that drew a flush to her face and quickened her heart. Instantly, she was glad to be there with him.

Colin tipped the wine bottle toward her glass and hesitated. “More?”

“Yes, please,” she said, thinking if only he knew how much more she really wanted.

“I sense it’s been a while for you,” he offered casually.

“Yes, it’s been quite…” She started to answer him before realizing what she was saying, quickly trying to cover her confession with a question. “Been a while? What do you mean?” God, how quickly he could turn her around and take control of her thoughts. One second she was composed and sure of herself and the next he spun her around and had her fumbling for words.

“Marie, you're a very attractive woman. I find it hard to believe you’ve not been with a man in over three years.”

She looked down and said nothing. Her hands framed the base of her wineglass as she fought with what she should say. It was so obvious. He knew. It had to be written all over her face. Her embarrassment was so strong she was not even able to thank him for the compliment. How could the momentum she so desperately wanted shift into a state of nothing so quickly?

Powerful hands settled lightly over hers as he spoke, “It’s been a while for me as well.”

Then it was back. She felt his power, nearly jumping in her seat. His hands were tender in his touch, but hard and work-worn in texture. They were the kind of hands she dreamed of touching her softness. They represented the roughness she needed. The stirring was back in an instant. Her nipples swelled, rising against her brassiere, reaching, begging for real man-hands to touch and squeeze them. She shifted slightly in her seat and crossed her legs, pinching an ache where another need stirred and reached for attention. Momentum of steaming desire took over completely. Maybe this was the journey. She plunged head-long into where it pulled her.

“Too long,” she whispered her truth, lifting her eyes to meet his gaze. There, she'd said it. It was out on the table. Her confession complete. She'd confessed to the need to be taken. An open-ended permission slip to fuck her into oblivion queued up for his taking. Would he take it? Would he take her? Trembling hands were under his, but what she wanted most of all was her body under his hands…in his arms…in his bed. She was already under his spell as single-mindedness overcame her like a rushing, swirling flood of desire.

Colin attempted to change the subject. “Dinner?”

Marie smiled and looked him in those blue eyes and expressed her real hunger with a bold whisper. “Fuck me.”

* * *

Marie didn't remember the short drive to his home. The buzz in her head overshadowed whatever scenery she saw and obliterated the memories of any conversation they may have had. She was drunk, although only partially from the wine. She was drunk with anticipation. Her entire body was on fire, yearning for that which she had denied herself for so long. How could she make this night last forever? This was pure sex; no excuses, no expectations and no apologies. She'd never indulged herself in something like this, and the exhilaration was intoxicating.

A man she barely knew was going to fuck her. She'd looked him in the eye and told him to fuck her. It was so out of character for her to even consider something like this much less articulate it so succinctly. She was wild with desire the instant he touched the back of her hand at the restaurant. That single touch acted as a trigger, unleashing something in her she'd never felt before, not even when she'd had the best sex of her married life. Rapid heartbeat and shallow breathing made her feel like a schoolgirl having her first real sexual encounter. Gauging from sex she'd experienced before and what she was feeling now, this was, for all intents and purposes, her first time.

She stood in the dim light of his bedroom frozen in place, waiting for something. Maybe it was permission, or maybe it was another touch from those glorious hands. He approached her from behind, powerful hands coming to rest on her shoulders. At his touch, she turned to face him and rose up on her toes, palms on either side of his face, intent on kissing him deeply. Before she could taste his lips, he grabbed her wrists and walked her back to the wall, pinning her there with her arms outstretched. He pressed himself against her, his growing hardness rising into her belly, causing her smother in a stolen breath. He bent to kiss her, and her eyes closed on instinct, lips parted to welcome his advance.

Stopping short, lips hovering, barley grazing her, he whispered into her mouth. “I’m gonna grant your request. I’ll fuck you, but it’s going to happen my way. My rules.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. It'd been decided that’s how it would be.

His lips brushed hers again. Heat of his breath fanned the fire that burned on her face. Her mouth opened, begging for him to feast on her. His hardness pushed against her lower belly, reminding her how badly she wanted him in her mouth. A thousand wants converged on her, swirling in her head. His tongue caressed her upper lip lightly before slipping into her mouth entwining with hers. She sucked on his tongue greedily, wanting more and more.

It was as if he read her mind when he stepped back and told her what he wanted. “Taste what I’m going to fuck you with later.”

There was no asking. It was not offered as an option. In Marie’s mind it was a command translated to permission for her to take. She knelt in front of him and tugged at his belt to release the catch. Easing his pants down over powerful thighs, the bulge in his shorts told her she was not going to be disappointed. Leaning forward, she pressed her face into his shorts and breathed deeply of the man-musk that had become a distant memory. When she freed him from his shorts, it all came rushing back to her. The feel of a man pulsing and wanting in her mouth was a memory that could never fade. She wrapped both hands around the base of his manhood, pushing him upward so she could lick along the silky underside of his shaft. Approaching the swollen head, she engulfed him deeply and held him there. He grunted his satisfaction and flexed in her mouth. She didn’t move. His cock stayed deep, pulsing with the rhythm of his heart. Sliding her tongue in slow circles around the sweet spot beneath the tip, she teased and suckled him, transporting them both to a private and pleasurable place.

He rocked his hips slowly enjoying the warmth and the wetness of her mouth. She withdrew slightly and then settled down deep, forcing him against the back of her throat. Every time she went down and held him deeply, he flexed. The sensation of his cock swelling from the base to tip made the ache between her legs twinge as though connected. Her mouth sucked hungrily and more urgently. He leaned his head back and guided her with both hands, as she alternately licked round his cockhead before swallowing most of his member.

Just as she felt he was ready to come, he withdrew and lifted her up to her feet. “My turn to taste what I’m going to fuck.”

With that he scooped her up and deposited her on the bed, skirt falling slightly above her knees. Strong, hard hands glided slowly up her thighs, pushing her skirt up around her waist. When he fell to his knees, her heart began to race. This was all new. Her ex-husband never did this for her. Even after she'd take his come in her mouth, he'd never return the favor. Even the men she dated before him never offered much more than an obligatory lick, never finishing her off. Something in his eyes told her this was going to be different. His hands moved down to her knees. Her heart felt like it would pound right out of her chest when he firmly spread her legs open. The calloused roughness of his hands exaggerated the feeling of touch as he slid them back into the depths of her thighs. She fell backward onto the bed knowing it was only a matter of seconds before he'd finally touch her aching pussy. A battle raged inside of her. Desire to have his fingers touch and fondled her pussy contradicted the vulgarity and obscene way he'd spread her legs. Unconscious dignity drove an impulse pull her legs together, knowing she laid there exposed, covered only by scant, lacy panties.

“Spread your legs,” he barked his demand. Those words and the intensity behind them were like an electric shock. He was taking her and she could do nothing to stop it. This is exactly what she wanted - forced to let go. She nearly came just hearing his command. It sounded so forbidden, and it made her feel so naughty and dirty.

More lustful words drove her even higher. “I want to suck your sweet little cunt before I fuck you.”

The vulgarity struck her unexpectedly, driving a new sense of lust through her. She wanted it. She wanted it so very badly.

“Slide closer. Give that sweet pussy to me. Push it into my mouth. I know that's what you want."

“Oh God,” she gasped, scooting on the bed, inching toward his face. She watched him as he intently eyed her prize. He was breathing through his mouth, licking his lips – those perfectly luscious, pussy sucking lips. A thin veil of silk was all that separated her tenderness from his mouth. With her legs spread so wide, there was no way he could slip them off. How was he going to…?

His big hands cupped her ass, as he opened his jaws wide and buried his face between her legs, sucking a huge mouthful of panties and pussy into his mouth. He flexed his jaws in a slight chewing motion and probed at her soaking panties with his tongue. Marie shrieked and bucked her hips as he bore down on her, sucking and chewing. Her clit was ready to burst, straining against the silk in an effort to embrace the tongue that teased and flicked around it. He sucked her deeper into his mouth and began to trace deliberate circles around her pounding clit. Backing away slightly, he sucked at her little nub through her panties, and his tongue toyed with her, flicking lightly, giving her clit the attention it deserved. A soft, deep moan reverberated from his throat, resonating against her, enhancing the sensations of his sucking. Short stokes of his tongue pressed lightly and rolled her clit against his upper teeth. He was making her crazy. With no warning, he slipped his fingers underneath the front of her panties and stretched them aside. Before she could gulp enough air to scream her approval, he engulfed her with his mouth again, tongue diving deeply into her depths. In an instant she reached her limits of ecstasy and grabbed the back of his head with both hands, pulling him hard into her, grinding and pivoting her hips against his mouth. Her orgasm rolled up the length of her spine in wave building upon wave as she contracted and pulsed with ecstasy. Never had an orgasm taken control of her like that. Surely this was what heaven was all about.

He sat back on his hunches and said, “Now...I can grant your wish.”

Slowly he got to his feet, wiping her juices from his face and beard with his hand and onto his manhood. His cock glistened with evidence of her climax, hand wrapped around its girth stroking it for her.

“Look at it. Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for?”

Marie’s stomach churned with an unbridled anticipation, as she watched him stroke his manhood. His cock was beautiful and so very thick. The woman in her ached for the tender violence of deep, driving penetration. She needed to be stretched wide and filled to her absolute limits and rocked, hips slamming into her own.

“Yesss,” she gasped. “I want your cock. I want it inside me.”

Colin's voice was thick with lust. “Yeah? Tell me how much you want it.”

“Oh God, give it to me,” she begged. “It’s been so long since I’ve had this.”

“Yeah? Been a long time, huh? Been a long time since you’ve had a nice thick dick driving into that sweet little pussy hasn’t it?”

“Please,” she begged him. “Please fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck...me!

Marie reached down and slipped her fingers beneath the waistband on her panties to push them down.

He grabbed her wrist and leveled another command at her. “No... I’ll do that.”

Her heart jumped at the sharpness of his voice. Then her heart skipped a beat as his powerful hands lifted her bottom, pushing her farther up onto the bed so he could kneel between her legs. His knees spread wide, forcing her legs open on either side of him. Reaching down, the backs of thick fingers stroked her through her soaking panties. Her breath seized when he slipped two fingers underneath the flimsy material and ripped them away exposing her completely.

“Pull your knees up so I can drive this big cock all the way home. That’s it, put your hands behind your knees...and pull 'em up high so I can fuck you good and proper.”

She rocked her hips back, pulling on her knees with all her might. God, how she wanted this.

He leaned over her and began to tap her clit with his cock. “Let’s warm that little clit up a bit first. Ever had it spanked?”

Marie gasped and flinched with shudders of pleasure every time his cock smacked against her swollen clitoris. “Oh...sweet...fuck! Oh...God, that’s...so...mmm...good.”

He pressed against her, trapping the length of his penis between their bodies. Slowly, he began to thrust his hips, the length of his hardness sliding through her saturated crotch. She groaned and begged for him to penetrate her. The ache of being hollow for so long was excruciating. She needed him inside and she needed it right then.

“Hmmm, so you want this cock inside do you?”

“God, yes!  Fuck me now. Fuck me with that big, thick dick of yours.”

“That’s my girl, that’s what I wanted to hear.”

The urgency of fucking with her clothes on added to the thrill. Having him shred her panties, yanking them roughly away and fucking her hard and fast was a fantasy that she'd held for many years, never sharing it with anyone. She was there. Her fantasy was there, poised between her legs with a fat, throbbing dick that would slip and slide so deep...

She howled with need. “Now, Colin! Fuck me now!”

Still pulling on her knees, she tried to hook ankles around his back. As she stretched and reached, he positioned himself in her wetness and began to push. Everything stopped. Her breathing froze, and it felt like her heart had been startled into silence. The pressure of his swollen sex slipping into her chased away the hollow ache of three years of celibacy. Every time she exhaled, she uttered something unintelligible, something fluent in a dialect known as the universal language of Fuck.

He drove into her with all of his weight, pushing until there was nothing left to give. Neither of them moved a muscle. Pressure remained constant. Patience took over as he waited for the woman-hunger inside of her to finish swallowing him. He was so thick it was glorious.  Marie writhed under him, rolling her hips upward, trying to accept all he had to offer. Seconds passed before he finally flexed hard. Sensation ripped through her, unleashing a squeal of delight and a quick swivel her hips to take more of him.

He rumbled deep in his chest. “Don’t move. Not yet. That sweet cunt of yours is still swallowing. Be patient woman."

This was new. No man had ever just impaled her like this and then not jack-hammered his way into his own satisfaction. Every time he flexed she felt more of him slip deeper inside. Marie was someplace she had never been before. She was being re-introduced to Fuck.  “My God! Colin, how do you…how does…fuck, you’re so deep.”

He laughed. “I can't believe no man has ever taken the time to fuck you good and proper before.”

She swallowed hard and gasped. “I’ve never had…never felt…Jesus, you just keep going deeper...and deep…”

He flexed again, stretching her, seeking the ultimate connection, and she started to vibrate.

“Mmmm, you're a virgin, Marie. I’m fucking parts of you that have never felt the pleasure of a cock dealt properly. Pull those legs back, and I’ll fuck the edge of your soul.”

“Oh God, oh God, I’m starting…I’m going to come.”

He pushed harder and thrust his hips against hers. “ That’s my girl. You go...you come on this big dick. It’s yours, baby. I'm gonna sit right here and feel you come on me.”

She came hard. Listening to his words and feeling him growing and settling deeper inside of her was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. As she began to contract, he flexed again and again, trying to match the pace of her contractions. Wave after wave was reflected by his surging cock. Marie was swept from the high place and out into the nothingness of Fuck.

Colin stayed fully penetrated, pressing, grinding his public bone against her clit. When her orgasm slowly began to fade, he flexed again and it magically began to renew itself. Contractions rushed back and surged through her. “Again, it’s…happening…oh God…again,” she gasped. Her head rolled from side to side in the grip of body-wracking waves of pleasure.

The next time he flexed, she felt a strange pop deep inside. An instantaneous rush of sensation erupted, causing her pelvis to quiver. It was like he'd hooked her to a source of sexual energy magnifying the sexual nirvana of the moment. Colin was in the same place - the same moment, their groans synchronized under the massive weight of desire. Sensations of perfection reflected on each of their faces. .

He leaned close and whispered. “Now...I'm gonna teach you how to slow fuck good and proper."

Marie could only manage a hoarse whisper. “Do it.”

“Rock your hips. Just a little to start. That’s it. Keep those knees pulled up!

His hands were on either side of her. Only his arms and the seamless joining of their sex supported his weight. C’mon, Marie, pull. Rock those hips. Grind that clit. Yeah, that’s it. Fuck, that’s good."

Every time she rocked back a flood of sensation exploded in her center. Every surge was like a mini orgasm. Like an addict, she kept rocking, wanting more. Her movements increased so she could have more of the drug, more of the Fuck. Each wave of pleasure broke over her with marvelous sense of satisfaction. Without warning, she found herself in the grip of a wave bigger than any before. It broke upon her with an intensity that caused her fall. She reached for him to save her; both arms and legs wrapped around him and held on as wave after wave thundered through the depths of her soul threatening to rip her away from him. There was no counting. It didn’t matter. This was Fuck, and she was being consumed by it.

He moaned as her contractions pulled and sucked at his penis, then he growled like a beast. “Now it’s my turn.”

When he flexed, she screamed. He withdrew an inch and then drove back deeply inside of her. Again he withdrew, and again he plunged back inside. Each time he withdrew a fraction farther and hesitated before driving back into her. Each time he grunted with intense satisfaction, feeling her pussy swallow him back to his original depth. Deep strokes quickened. Her arms and legs still clung to him, hips thrusting back to meet his. He fucked her hard. Wet skin smacked as he plunged into her again and again. His balls slapped against her ass as he approached his own limits of endurance.

Unbelievably, another climax reached out to claim her. This time the power of Fuck claimed them both. His pace shifted from long driving strokes to a short rocking motion while remaining buried to the hilt. She could feel him begin to swell just as his explosion erupted deep inside of her. He roared the satisfaction of every beast. Marie's legs stiffened and her heels dug into the mattress, as she pushed hard to meet his final thrust. Everything part of her sex, every memory of passions remembered was released into the ether of perfection.  They convulsed and shuddered in perfect unison into oblivion together, wrapped tightly in the perfectness of Fuck. Nothing mattered for those few seconds. Not life. Not death. Nothing at all. And yet...it did matter. It always did.