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Coitus Interruptus Coitus Cuckoldus

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1. When Trixie Ann got home (late, after her MBA class), she first checked on Judy, her daughter and Eddie, her son. They were asleep and did not wake when she straightened their covers and kissed them softly on the cheek. Then she made her way quietly to the master bedroom. Her husband Alan was already in bed. He greeted her sleepily and rolled over.

She went to the bathroom and locked the door before she put on the mirror vanity lights. Quickly, she stripped off all her clothes. She wadded her ruined pantyhose and put it to her nose for a moment, inhaling the slightly sour smell of Jack’s and her sexual secretions, before putting it in the trashcan underneath the sink. Her suit would need to be dry-cleaned, she thought.

Naked now, she examined herself carefully in the mirror. Her lips were slightly puffy from Jack’s bites, but it was not really noticeable. She plumped a breast in each hand and scanned them. Purple and red bruises were beginning to appear on and around her nipples — they grew brighter as her nipples puckered under her ministrations. She ran her fingers over her crotch. Her cunt felt sore, but it was a surprisingly pleasant feeling. She turned around and examined her rump. Jack’s spanking had left angry red welts. Unconsciously she heard her high-pitched voice repeating over and over: “Oh, fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! FUCK ME HARD!”

She took a long and luxurious shower and then spent an equally long time anointing her breasts, crotch and rump with moisturizers and creams. It was past midnight when she finally climbed into bed, still naked. Alan was now snoring gently and did not wake.

The weeks following her encounter with Jack were very difficult ones for Trixie Ann. She hesitated for days about calling Jack’s secretary regarding his promise of the new tires for her car. When she finally did, she decided to call his direct line and waited breathlessly while it rang. When it was picked up, it was a woman with an upper class British accent: “Farah Hojjat, executive assistant to Mr. Grierson.”

“May I speak with Mr. Grierson?'”

“I am afraid that Mr. Grierson is in a meeting. May I take a message?”

Trixie Ann hesitated. After all, Jack had asked her to call his secretary.

“My name is Ms. Peters. I am calling about …”

“Oh, Ms. Peters. Yes, we have been expecting your call. I will transfer you to Mr. Grierson’s secretary, who will take care of you.”

It turned out to be ridiculously easy — Jack’s secretary came on the line and gave her the address of an auto repair shop. When she went there, she found that everything was paid for — she just had to wait for an hour while they did the work.

What was difficult was dealing with the aftermath of Jack’s brutal and thorough fucking. Her husband grew amorous a few days later, but this merely served to underline the inadequacy of her sex life. The memories of her wild orgasms with Jack flooded her mind many times a day. She would be working hard in her cubicle and when the memories seized her, she would feel herself go weak and her breath quicken. She would get moist and sometimes even wet. She took to carrying spare panties to work in her purse and would have to change when her crotch got too wet.

* * * * * * * * * *

2. Meanwhile, things were very busy at the Grierson household. The wedding of Martin and Isabelle was now a week away and a thousand details had to be dealt with. Carmen was increasingly excited — up at the crack of dawn and working over details till late at night. Isabelle was in the whirl of arrangements with caterers, flower shops, the bridal store, and more things than she had thought possible. Jack got little chance to see her and was building up a huge reservoir of sexual frustration.

The wedding was on Saturday. On Thursday, Isabelle’s sister, Cecile, came over from her Massachusetts boarding school. Isabelle’s mother Simone was due to arrive on Friday from her French chateau. Cecile was to share Kelly’s room, using the spare bed there, while Simone was to stay in the guest wing of the mansion, in an adjoining suite to the one that Isabelle herself occupied at the moment. Jack took off from work Thursday morning and came home for lunch. Carmen met him in the entrance hallway and they exchanged a quick kiss. Jack managed to grope her breasts before she twisted away giggling, “Silly boy! Isabelle’s kid sister Cecile arrived this morning. She’s a young thing, just turned eighteen — great company for Kelly. They seem to have hit if off really well.” She led the way into the house. ‘We’re eating in the parlor. Lunch is laid out and I’ve sent Anna to round everyone up.’

Martin and Isabelle were already seated at the dining table when Jack entered. He threw his briefcase on a window seat and threw his jacket and tie on top of it. Martin waved a hello and Isabelle got up and came around to give him a kiss on the cheek. He sat down opposite them and said, “Well, the gathering of the clans begins!”

“Just the three of us de la Roque women, Jack,” said Isabelle, laughing. “The clan is all on Martin’s side.”

Carmen returned and added, “Jack has no relatives either. The guest list is heavy on my relatives, I am most happy to admit.”

Kelly and Cecile entered together and Jack had a hard time keeping his jaw from dropping open. Cecile was built like her sister, with firm breasts that would get fuller, and long, athletic legs, but rather darker blonde hair. She wore a black net tank top that highlighted rather than concealed her florescent orange bikini bra. The bra had a halter neck with a tie at the nape and white splotches over her nipples that emphasized the lumps they made in the fabric. She had on a black flowery print skirt that was just above the knee. However, it had such a low waist that Jack almost thought he could see the beginning of her mount. She wore thong bikini panties whose hip straps rode high above the waist of her skirt. She made a curtsey when she came in and pirouetted. Jack felt she did so on purpose to show off the butterfly-shaped back of her thong that rode high above the waistband of her skirt. Then she walked into the room, swinging her hips enticingly.

“Oh, its so good to see you girls,” Carmen cooed, seemingly oblivious to Cecile’s appearance. “Let’s sit down to lunch.”

Carmen seated Cecile by Jack and Kelly at the foot of the table, facing her. Carmen and Martin began talking about their morning spent at the church with the minister and organist, going over last minute details of the ceremony and music. Isabelle looked on with mild interest and caught Jack’s eye now and then, shooting him a look of amusement. Jack felt he should make conversation with Cecile, though he had only a very vague idea of what would interest her. Boys, probably, he thought.

“So, is your school coeducational?” he asked.

“Oh, we have boys alright,” Cecile said in the charming Franco-American accent that she shared with her sister.

“Well if there is anything I can do to make your stay with us more enjoyable, just let me know,” Jack said, feeling he had done his duty.

Here she leaned over and said in a throaty whisper that only Jack could hear, “You better stop fucking my sister.”

Jack face registered his shock for a millisecond before he regained his composure and wondered if he was hearing things. Isabelle caught his look and smiled. Jack turned to look at Cecile with a tight smile and said, “I’m sure that Kelly will help you feel at home.”

She leaned over and whispered again, “If you don’t do as I say, I’ll tell your wife about Isabelle and you.”

“I see,” said Jack slowly, “I”ll see what I can do.”

He chewed his salad carefully, his mind whirling through the possibilities. Cecile dressed to show off her extremely sexy body, and she clearly enjoyed the power it gave her over men. But was she just trying to show she could control him or did she really worry about her sister? Carmen tolerated his philandering, but would she be as accepting of Jack fucking their daughter-in-law? Even as he thought through the possibilities, he

was mentally undressing her. At eighteen, she was a few years younger than her sister, Isabelle, but they could have passed for twins.

The maid had just cleared away his salad plate and set down his main course when he felt his pants being unhooked and his fly unzipped. With an effort, he avoided looking at Cecile and concentrated on cutting his meat. He wore no underwear and she quickly began to fellate his cock under the table. In spite of his best efforts, Jack’s hard on was raging virtually at once. She began to give him a slow hand job, pausing every so often. He sneaked a sidelong glance at her — she was playing with her food with her fork in her left hand and smiling maliciously.

Jack worked very hard to keep a poker face. The strain was enormous, though and a bead of sweat formed on his brow. Carmen, Martin and Kelly were oblivious to his condition, but Isabelle shot over searching looks now and again.

Jack did not know what to do. He slid a hand under the table and tried to extricate his cock from her grip, but she would not let go. Her ministrations were so expert and erotic, that he could not calm his member. It remained engorged and at her mercy. Then she dropped her fork under the table.

“Oh excuse me, I’ve dropped my fork,” she announced before diving under the table. In short order her young lips slid over his cock head and she quickly began sucking on him. Her lips formed a tight seal around his cock and her small pink tongue flicked at his dimple, lapping up musky pre-ejaculate.

Just as quickly, she was gone. She sat back in her seat, continued to fellate him with her right hand and put her left forefinger in her mouth and made a gentle sucking sound. “Mrs. Grierson, what you serve at your table is exquisite!”

Carmen looked up from her conversation, slightly annoyed, but still pleased with the compliment. “Oh, thank you, dear,” she said vaguely, before returning to her discussion with Martin.

Poor Jack was now in a physical agony. She kept speeding up the rate at which she fellated his cock, bringing him to the verge of climax. Then each time she slowed down and kept him dangling. More sweat formed along his brow. He was sure that Carmen would notice. In spite of his best efforts, he began to have trouble controlling his breathing.

“Are you OK, dear?” asked Carmen suddenly.

“Hot in here,” he muttered, looking vacantly at his food.

“Anna, turn up the AC, please,” Carmen called out.

“Yes, ma’am,” they all heard Anna from the serving hatch.

Finally, Cecile miscalculated. On her next accelerated fellation, Jack willed himself up and over and began to come. He covered his cock (and her milking hand) with his napkin and began a violent bout of coughing to cover his contortions as he spouted a huge load into the napkin and over her hand. He kept coughing and in response to Carmen’s alarm, gasped out, ‘I need to throw up in the bathroom.’

Holding the napkin over his crotch, he managed to rush from the parlor and into the safety of the adjoining bathroom. Once in, he locked the door and leaned on the sink, breathing heavily. The little minx, he thought.

As his breathing slowed, he quickly washed himself and disappeared into his suite to change. He considered his options. If he allowed Cecile to get away with this, there was no telling what she would do next. She would always have the threat of telling Carmen and causing an irreparable rupture in the Grierson household. He needed to talk to Isabelle.

He cautiously descended the stairs, hoping to avoid coming up on Cecile again. When he entered the parlor, there was no one there but Anna, clearing up.

“Hi Anna, do you know where Miss Isabelle is?” he asked.

“I think she is with Mrs. Grierson and Mr. Martin in the library, sir,” Anna answered stolidly.

Jack made his way to the library and standing outside the door, crooked his finger when Isabelle looked up and saw him. He faded out of view. He only had to wait a moment. She made an excuse and came out to him. Jack took her by the elbow and steered her quickly into his study that was further along in the same wing of the house. Once in, he closed and locked the door.

“Jack, you know I’d love to fuck you, but Carmen and Martin will be expecting me back in minutes … ”

“I’d love to fuck you too, but that’s not what I want to talk to you about,” Jack said quickly. “Do you know what happened to me at lunch?”

Isabelle smiled. “I don’t know, but I can guess,” she said, her smile getting broader by the second. “Isn’t Cecile something?”

Jack was not amused. “She said she would tell Carmen about us,” he said roughly.

Now Isabelle giggled. “Let her. Carmen knows about your infidelities, she won’t mind.”

Irritated as he was, Jack was shocked. “What you saying, Isabelle? Have you lost your mind? This is different, you are our daughter-in-law, Martin’s wife. Carmen dotes on Martin. She will never forgive us.”

Isabelle laughed and waved her arm dismissively. “You are over-reacting, Jack.”

Jack changed tack. “How does Cecile know about us?”

“I told her, silly,” said Isabelle gaily, completely oblivious to Jack’s seriousness. “My sister and my mother are my best friends. I tell them everything and they tell me everything. Both my mother and Cecile were SO excited by what I told them about you!”

Jack began to think he was in some horrible nightmare. This couldn’t be happening!

“Isabelle,’ said Jack, speaking slowly as to one who is slow to understand, “This is not funny. You need to talk to Cecile and make her understand that this is very serious. The happiness of her sister, that is your happiness, is at stake, as well as the happiness of the rest of your married household. You need to make her understand that she must swear to keep our relationship secret.”

“Why would Carmen mind, Jack? She knows you fuck your executive assistant, Farah Hojjat, and lots of other women. Why should I be different?”

Jack threw his hands in the air. He gritted his teeth to keep from shouting.

“For the last time, Isabelle, you are our daughter-in-law! Carmen will not treat you like just any other woman. Your sister, Cecile is a dangerous loose cannon and she’s going to make many men unhappy. Well, I’m not going to be one of them! You’ve got to help me here.”

Isabelle sighed. “OK, OK. I still think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. I’ll talk to her.”

Jack persisted. “That’s not good enough. I want to be there. I want you to tell her in no uncertain terms that if she repeats this there will be severe consequences. And I want you to spell out some pretty severe consequences.”

“Well, since I pay her allowance, I guess I could threaten to cut it off,” said Isabelle, thoughtfully.

* * * * * * * * * *

3. Later that afternoon, Isabelle, Cecile and Jack did have a rather stormy meeting in Jack’s study. Jack was gratified to find Isabelle back him up to the hilt. She cajoled and then finally threatened to cut off the flow of money. This got through to Cecile. She glared balefully at Isabelle and then at Jack, but she reluctantly agreed to their terms. If their secret got out, Cecile lost her spending money.

“Thank you, Isabelle,” said Jack at the end of the interview. “I’d like to have a few final words with Cecile, if that’s OK with you.”

Isabelle nodded and left the study, pulling the door shut behind her.

“Cecile,” Jack said in his most authoritative voice, “I know your father should be disciplining you. But since he obviously has not, I believe that I should instruct you, as he should have. Come here.”

Jack sat on the desk and she approached him. The shoe was on the other foot now and she was off balance, not quite knowing what to expect. As she came up to him, Jack stood up and walked around behind her. Suddenly, with a quickness that contrasted sharply with his serious demeanor, he caught her by the nape of the neck, just below the tie of her bikini bra. He pushed her face down on the desk and hiked her skirt up around her waist. The perfect round globes of her buttocks were naked now, separated by the thin orange strip of her thong that was topped by its butterfly rear triangle. His free hand gently caressed each firm buttock in turn.

“Oh, Jack,” Cecile cried in panic. “What are you doing?!”

Then he drew his free hand back and struck each buttock as hard as he could with the flat of his palm. The two swift blows sounded like pistol shots and were followed almost immediately by Cecile’s agonized wail. Clear red imprints of his hand began to appear almost immediately.

Jack still held her down on the desk.

“These were for what you did to me at lunch,” he said grimly. “This is what I would do if I were your father.”

He paused. Then leaning very close to her, so that she could have no doubt of the size of his hard on, he whispered in her ear — “But I am NOT your father. I’m going to remind you that blackmail is dangerous and does not pay.”

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked, voice trembling.

“I’m going to show you how a woman should be fucked.”

Still holding her down, he pulled down her thong panties till they slipped down and gathered around her ankles. He reached under her and kneaded first one firm, young breast and then the other. She was sobbing now, great juddering sobs that caused her shoulders to heave.

“You’re a great bully!” she cried through her sobs. “I don’t know what Isabelle sees in you! I hate you!”

Without ceremony, Jack pushed two fingers into her cunt and began to piston her hard. She struggled, but with his strength and weight, it was hopeless. She caught her breath between gasping intakes of breath, but slowly she sounded less unhappy and more excited.

“Let me go!” she cried, but her buttocks undulated in a manner that suggested otherwise.

“When you behave like a whore, I’ll treat you like a whore,” said Jack, continuing to twist his fingers in her cunt. He felt her damp vagina becoming sopping wet. He ran his thumb over her clit — it was engorged.

“Mon dieu! Je sens venir! Je vais avoir un orgasme!!” (My God! I feel it coming! I’m having an orgasm!!)

She thrashed on the desk as her climax wracked her. She finally grew quiescent, but Jack still held her tightly. He unzipped his trousers and released his rampant hard on. Her young body stoked his craving and he could not wait or show finesse.

He pushed his cockhead into her vagina, reveling in her tightness, her warmth, her wetness and the firmness of her young body. In the same movement, he rammed his huge cock all the way in till his balls slapped against her rounded behind.

“You behaved like a bitch, so I’ll fuck you doggie-style!” he said grimly.

She screamed, but Jack did not care. He pulled back almost out of her and rammed into her again saying, “I’m going to keep fucking you till you say you’re sorry!”

“Mon dieu!” she cried. “Vous êtes si grand!” (My God! You’re so big!)

Still encased deep in her, he untied the halter top of her bra and rolled up her net mesh top. Pulling down the cups of her orange bra, he took a firm young breast in each hand. Kneading them hard and tweaking her nipples, he began to fuck her with a hard and driving rhythm. He pounded her with long, hard thrusts. Each thrust drew a scream from her. She twisted in his grip, a mare subjected to the violent rutting of a stallion.

With each pounding thrust, he whispered in her ear, “You’re a tight, young bitch! You’re tits are gorgeous! I’m going to make you beg for more!”

She responded by crying out in French.

“Vous me baiser si dur! Vous êtes tellement plus profond de moi! Comme un bar chaud de l’acier” (You’re fucking me so hard! You’re so deep inside me! Like a hot bar of steel!)

Then there were several knocks on the door.

“Jack? Are you in there? What’s going on?” It was Carmen’s voice. Jack froze, his cock deeply embedded in Cecile. She was panting and her body was covered with a sheen of sweat. Her orange bra was tied around her like a damp rag and Jack kept kneading her breasts.

“I’m here,” said Jack. “I’ll come and see you in a fifteen minutes.”

“Is Cecile in there? Her mother is on the phone.”

“Yes,” said Jack, thinking quickly. “Cecile is in here. I’ve been talking to her about the wedding.” And I’ve got my cock balls-deep in her pussy, he thought.

“Well, open the door and let me give her the phone.”

“No, no,” said Jack hastily. “I’ll send her out right away.”

He pushed down on Cecile with all of his weight, driving the breath out of her. “Not a word about this,” he whispered. “Or about Isabelle and me. You see what I can do to you.”

He slowly pulled his cock out of her and stood up. She lay on the desk for a long moment. Her pussy looked extremely inviting, peeping out between her the ass cheeks of her naked derriere. Finally, Cecile pulled her thong panties up, snugged them on her wet pussy and pulled down her skirt. She pulled her bra back up and plumped her breasts with her hands to settle the cups on the swells. Then she reached up and tied the halter top back on and rolled down her net top. She gave Jack a long stare.

“I hate you,” she said, venomously.

But as he watched, a thin trail of her feminine juices leaked out of thong and slid down her inner thigh.

“Yes, but you want me,” he said. “Look at how excited you are.”

She did not reply, but turned and fled. Jack sat down on the desk again, and looked down at his raging hard on.

* * * * * * * * * *

4. The afternoon passed slowly thereafter for Jack. Carmen took Isabelle with her to yet another “final” fitting of her bridal gown. Martin was spending the afternoon with his best man. Cecile was avoiding him. Kelly came by and told him that the two of them were going out for a horseback ride. From his study window, Jack saw the two girls head out to the stables. Cecile had put on knee length riding boots and carried a riding crop, but otherwise had not changed. Kelly had on jeans and a tank top.

Jack went online and answered a few emails, but his mind would not stay on work. After a futile hour in which he managed to do ten minutes worth of work, he decided to seek an alternative. He quickly called his office and was gratified when Farah Hojjat’s clipped English accent came on the line.

“Farah, what are you doing this afternoon? I’ve got a hardon that won’t go away and I’d love to fuck you.”

Farah did not miss a beat. “I’d love to, Jack, but we have the delegation coming in from Japan this afternoon. With you taking the afternoon off, there’s just me to receive them.”

Jack thought about it for a moment. Without Farah there to manage, lots of things could go wrong. And the Japanese did not forgive or forget. This was too important a contract to mess up. It was bad enough that he was not there and that they would be met by a woman. He trusted Farah to follow his instructions to the letter and make sure that the delegation received all the attention that they expected. He’d made all the bookings at the finest restaurants and he always used the best escort agency in town.

“Well, you know what to do. Use James as the ‘pretend boss’ if you want.”

James Henderson was one of Jack’s silver-haired, aristocratic-looking ‘show’ managers. He wasn’t too smart, but clever enough to keep his mouth shut and do what he was told. It was always useful to use him as the front man in negotiations. It was trick Jack had learnt from the Japanese themselves.

‘Leave to me, Jack. And I’ll take a rain check on that afternoon of lust,’ Farah hung up.

Who to call? At such short notice, Jack was at a loss. He spent the rest of the afternoon trying to work and getting a small amount done. Carmen called and said that she and Isabelle were meeting Martin for dinner at Chez Ritz and asking him to join them. He did not feel up to spending an evening so near and yet so far from Isabelle, so he declined.

Finally, at about seven, he made up his mind. It was a gorgeous, bright summer evening, so he put down the top of his Jaguar XKE and cranked up the stereo. He called Farah on his cell phone and she called him back moments later with the address information that he wanted. He drove straight there. It was a rather nondescript line of what were rather grandiosely called ‘townhouses’. Each had a small single garage and postage stamp front lawn. Jack drove past number 37 slowly and parked around the block.

He made his way nonchalantly up the short path to the front entrance of number 37. The front door was open — there was a closed screen door to keep out the insects. He opened the screen door and stood for a moment in the hallway. The TV was on in the family room half a flight downstairs and he could hear a baseball game being called. He squatted and craned his neck. He could make out the bald top of a man’s head in a Lazy-Boy. There was an empty beer glass on a side table and soft rhythmic snores wafted up the stairs.

He peeked into the living room on the main level. A girl who looked about eighteen or nineteen sat at a battered upright piano, playing with some dexterity. The music carried around the entire house and covered any sound that he made.

Jack took a cautious step into the corridor leading to the kitchen, his footstep muffled by the carpet. A moment later, Trixie Ann emerged from the kitchen, talking into a cordless phone. She saw him and her blue eyes opened wide. Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ and ‘Wha …’ escaped from her lips. The person on the phone obviously heard this and she quickly went on, “I’ll call you back, Mary Lou. I need to attend to something right now.”

Trixie Ann wore a white bikini with frilly high cut panties and a frilly halter-top bra that emphasized her firm and full breasts. She had on strappy platform sandals, a bead choker and a white wristband. One hand went through her blonde ringlets in confusion, while that other hung by her side, still holding the disconnected phone.

“Jack! … ” she began in a harsh stage whisper.

He covered the distance between them in two steps and pushed her back into the kitchen. Backing her against the side-by-side refrigerator, he dropped to his knees. He put his arms around her lower body, cupping and kneading her buttocks in his hands. He buried his face in her crotch and began kissing her vulva through her bikini panties.

“No, Jack, not now, not here,” she whispered, attempting to pull his head away from her crotch with her free hand, the phone waving uselessly in the other.

Jack did not listen, but kept at it. Now his fingers found the seam of her panties under the frills and lifted it, allowing his tongue to reach her blonde pubic curls and sensitive bare flesh.

“Don’t, don’t, OH! Don’t, please,” she implored. Even so, she grew wet with the realization of her amorous dreams of the weeks past.

Jack’s tongue worked expertly to stimulate her and when her quickened breathing began to give her away, he pulled the crotch of her panties aside to allow his tongue direct access to her clitoris.

“OMIGOD!” she could not suppress the cry of shock and pleasure as his tongue touched and teased her clit. Jack’s tongue pranced around, tapping and exciting her clit and then lapping around the walls of her vulva. Her breathing was hoarse and ragged as she struggled to not make a sound. Her fingers gripped his hair tightly and her hips began to rotate. Jack knew she was close to losing control altogether. He could not resist one more turn of the screw. Still kissing and licking her vulva, he pulled open the freezer door and grabbed two ice cubes from the icemaker. With one smooth motion, he leaned away and pushed one and then the other ice cube into her wet cunt.

He stood up and kissed her full on the lips, pushing his tongue coated with her sexual fluids into her mouth. He pulled her panties back over her vulva, while his hand continued to knead her crotch and hold the ice cubes in her cunt. This was too much for her. With Jack’s lips and invading tongue muffling her panting gasps, she began to come. Her hips juddered and her free hand on his shoulder clenched with every contraction.

Panting, with a sheen of perspiration on her brow, Trixie Ann was still conscious of where she was.

‘”Please, Jack, don’t make me do this,” she whispered urgently. “My whole family is home now. I’ll come out to motel later this evening … ”

“Now or never, Trixie Ann,” Jack said. Twisting her arm behind her back, with the other hand still massaging her crotch, he propelled her out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. As they mounted the stairs, he glanced at the daughter still practicing, the loud music and her concentration making her oblivious to her mother’s condition. “Play on,” thought Jack with a bit of a gloat, “I’m just about to fuck your mother!”

As they entered the master bedroom, Trixie Ann pleaded, ‘At least shut the door, Jack!’ Jack complied and pushed it shut. However, it did not latch and hung open just a crack.

He pulled her panties off and pushed her onto the wide bed. The two ice cubes, now much smaller, slipped out of her cunt and fell on the bed.

‘You wanted to be fucked on the bed, didn’t you, Trixie Ann?’ Jack said sardonically. ‘Let’s do it then.’

She was on her hands and knees on the bed and unwittingly raised her ass invitingly as she tried to turn and face him. He quickly stripped off his trousers and shirt and got on the bed, one arm encircling her waist. She still tried to negotiate.

“Jack, really, this is madness! Please go away. I promise I’ll come and sleep with you tonight … ”

However, it was very presence of her family and the fact that they were in her marriage bed that added to her allure. What Cecile had turned on was now heightened — he was fully engorged and erect. He pushed her forward till her arms were resting on the headboard and positioned himself doggie style behind her. With one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her belly, he prodded with his huge cock till it found her wet slit.

Trixie Ann felt his naked cockhead and suddenly began to struggle.

“Jack!” she hissed. “I’m ovulating! You’ve got to use a condom, there are some in the nightstand.”

Jack ignored her and lifted her slightly and pushed smoothly, encasing his cockhead in her vagina.

“Jack! Did you hear me? I’m in my most fertile period, I’ll get pregnant!”

Her communication had the opposite effect to what she intended. The thought that he could impregnate Trixie Ann made Jack harder and more excited. There was no way he was going to use a condom.

“Don’t!” she moaned as she felt him thrust his huge cock deeper, impaling her on inch after inch of steel hard flesh. Her grip on the headboard tensed as he angled his body to gain maximum penetration. Fully sheathed in her, his cockhead pushed at the gates of her cervix and he lay there for a few moments, letting her feel the fullness of him in her. She felt engorged, so full and tight around him that she thought her vaginal walls could feel every vein and ridge of his massive dick. She had made herself wet many times thinking about just this, but the reality far outweighed the fantasy!

Slowly, he pulled an inch back and rammed back home. He quickly gained speed and rhythm. He was rougher than she had imagined in her fantasies, ramming into her like a piston. The wet slap of his mount against her round buttocks echoed around the bedroom. The bed swayed and creaked, the headroom striking the wall in a steady thud. Downstairs, Judy paused playing for a moment cocked her head at the steady thudding coming from overhead. She thought she could hear something from upstairs. It sounded like his mother panting when she ran on the treadmill, but it seemed different somehow. She listened for a few minutes, but when the thudding and high pitched panting persisted, she shook her head and returned to her playing.

Trixie Ann knew she going to come again and picked up a pillow. She stuffed it in her mouth just in time — biting down, her screams and cries came out as hoarse squeaks. Her body was now covered with sweat and writhed and twisted in her passion. Jack’s stored up lust could not last. He came as well, continuing to pound her pussy as he sprayed his copious load into her womb. They both collapsed on her bed.

Jack regained his composure quickly and after toweling himself off in the bathroom, was dressed and by the bed again. Trixie Ann was still in the throes of her afterglow.

“God, Jack, you’re such a bastard,” she breathed. “You fuck me in my own home, in my marriage bed. You ignore me when I tell you to use a condom, that I’m ovulating. I can’t believe your nerve …”

Her bikini bra was soaked through and her nipples were still hard. He pushed the bra up and kneaded a naked breast roughly in each hand. As he had done on their previous encounter, he tweaked her hardened nipples brutally, drawing squeals from her. He made sure that he would leave bruises.

“Just call me when you want to fuck again, Trixie Ann,” he said. “I know you’ll want to.” He turned and left.

Judy, who had finished her practice, saw him in the hall. He blew her a kiss as he walked out the front door. Gentle snores still emanated from the family room.

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