“Freefall,” Rebecca Quinn thought to herself as the elevator lowered her and her Husband down to the lobby of her office building so they could go have lunch together.
“Freefall…That’s just what my life feels like right now,” she had to stifle a perverse chuckle at the irony of the comparison between the elevator and her place in life.
Rebecca had been married to Neal Quinn for almost 22 years. The first dozen or so had been decent, but there was no mistake the two had drifted apart for the last decade and Rebecca had been having an affair on and off with a man from her office building for past year.
Part of the marital strain had been each’s steadfast pursuit of a career. Rebecca was an ad executive in Manhattan and Neal was a real estate developer in greater New York City area. Despite the fact that their collective careers provided for a relatively lavish existence, there had never been enough time or energy for growth and passion between the two. It wasn’t until both their children had gone off to college that Rebecca and Neal realized just how little they shared in common. It was sometime during that realization that Rebecca had began the affair.
In hindsight, Rebecca knew it was a very selfish thing to do, despite the fact that she was sure Neal had strayed several times over the course of their marriage as well. Raised in the church by a very loving and devoted Mother and Father, out of guilt, once the initial thrill of the affair had worn off, Rebecca put an end to it in hopes of maybe trying to re-kindle a spark with her Husband.
Part of that process was trying to take an active role in getting to know each other all over again and spending time with one another. Trying to coordinate an occasional lunch date with each other was part of that plan, even though Neal hadn’t shown much zeal for the idea.
As the two stood there in the elevator, making their way down to the street to head to an Italian eatery a couple of blocks away, Rebecca was at a loss trying to make small talk with the man she had known for nearly 25 years.
“You’re awful quiet,” she probed.
“Just got a lot on my mind, we can talk about it at the restaurant,” Neal dismissively quipped as the elevator continued it’s descent.
What her Husband had told her over lunch had left Rebecca feeling sick to the stomach. While Neal had casually finished his meal as he laid out the sordid details about why the Securities and Exchange Commission might soon be snooping around and asking questions about some of his business dealings, and perhaps even why the FBI might be coming to their house to serve a warrant to look around, Rebecca just sat there stunned, unable to look at the food in front of her.
“You don’t know anything,” Neal said firmly between sips of wine.
“Is there anything to know?” she asked.
“There shouldn’t be anything now,” was his cryptic retort as if saying the less she knew, the better.
Of all the years of Neal being a jerk and a cad, the last thing she thought she would ever hear was that he had done something so egregious, that it might compromise their life and tear the family apart. And all over greed.
“We have everything we could possibly want, and it just isn’t enough,” Rebecca reconciled to herself.
Knowing the restaurant was the wrong place to make a scene, Rebecca privately cursed her Husband for the gutless act of bringing her to a public place to break the news.
“I’ve got to get back to the office,” Rebecca blandly spoke, nearly drawing blood from the inside of her cheek as she fought to hold her tongue.
“I’ll walk you back,” Neal added as if nothing had ever happened.
Numb to her surroundings, the thousands of other New Yorkers milling about on the sidewalk were one big blur to Rebecca as she made a bee-line back to her office, her Husband constantly a step or two behind her simmering, deliberate pace.
“Slow down Rebec…,” Neal started to say as he reached out to grab her by the arm, seeing the next few seconds playing out before they happened.
“OH GOD…I’m sorry,” Rebecca’s voice pierced the din on the street after she had plowed directly into the homeless man on the street who, with his back turned, had no way of avoiding the incensed female ad exec who was trying to stay two steps in front of her Husband.
“Get out of our way you stupid piece of shit,” Neal Quinn gruffly barked at the stocky vagrant his wife had just plowed into before taking his wife by the waist and hustling her forward before the stunned panhandler even knew what happened.
“I was trying to apologize to him,” Rebecca spat. “It was my fault not looking where I was was going.”
“Don’t fucking worry about the Goddamn Bum,” Neal gritted his teeth, his penchant for not caring who he runs over showing itself in spades.
“They ought to get all this garbage off the street,” Neal said just loud enough for all the interested parties to hear before disappearing with his wife back into the mass of bustling humanity.
“OH…SHIT,” Rebecca growled a few steps later. “I think I left my purse back at the restaurant.”
“Are you sure the guy that just ran into you didn’t take it?” Neal snapped.
“No,” Rebecca groaned, picturing the purse in her mind sitting underneath the outdoor table they were eating at.
“Let me call the place,” Neal said as he reached for his phone to call information.
“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t have the audacity to break that stupid news to me over a public lunch you Sonofabitch,” Rebecca groused, her anger shooting like daggers from her eyes as her Husband dialed the restaurant.
“The waiter said it’s not there,” Neal moaned as he hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket.
“FUCKING GREAT,” Rebecca hissed. “Just don’t worry about it…I’ll just call and cancel all the credit cards when I get back up to the office…I only had about $40 in it anyway.”
Sensing his wife’s obvious frustration, both at him and at the purse situation, Neal Quinn carefully excused himself once they had reached the entrance of Rebecca’s office building, giving a weak, fleeting and unanswered, “I love you” before turning to head back to the garage where he had parked his car.
It was Monday of the next week that Rebecca Quinn found herself heading out of the doors of her office building once again, this time to grab a quick cup of cappuccino for lunch at the coffee house across the street. It would also be where her life would take the most unexpected and macabre swerve she could imagine.
The subsequent few days after Neal Quinn had informed Rebecca about the possibility of some government heat coming down on him, the frost that had already been overtaking their relationship only seemed to harden. Not only had the passion grown listless between the two, now Rebecca had lost most of her respect for him and even found herself somewhat scared of what he, if not the people he was in financial bed with, were capable of.
Neal had left the night before with several boxes of documents and a plane ticket to an unspecified destination in what he termed a “gathering to get everyone’s story straight”. He hadn’t told her how long he planned on being gone, but she did notice he had taken a week’s worth of clothes with him.
Wading through the crush of humanity on the street, her mind mired in a whirlwind of complicated thought, Rebecca was suddenly snapped out of her distracted fog by a hand coming to rest on her shoulder.
“URRGGHHH,” was Rebecca’s visceral reaction when she turned to meet the eyes of the man who had grabbed her.
It was the homeless man she had nearly ran over a few days earlier.
“AHHH…It’s you,” Rebecca mumbled cautiously, her constitution withering somewhat from the searing but calm eye contact the stranger made with her.
A primal fear swept through Rebecca, even though there were hundreds of potential witnesses within eyesight, knowing that New Yorkers, at any given moment, could all have collective amnesia if a crime on the street was committed.
“I didn’t mean to scare you Ma’am,” the husky young man said with a distinct Southern drawl.
“He’s cleaner and smells better than I thought,” was Rebecca’s strange first internal thought. “He must have either gotten some new clothes at one of the shelters over the weekend or he’s one of those guys who pretend to be homeless just to make some easy money.”
“What is it?” she shakily asked.
“I found something the other day…I think it might be yours,” he said before reaching into his coat and pulling out a scrunched up ladies handbag.
“My purse,” Rebecca marveled, her eyes growing wide as if she was a child who had just had a lost puppy returned to her.
“Where on Earth…How did you know it was mine?” Rebecca stammered, wondering for a brief moment if the homeless man had in fact taken her purse that day.
“I found it in an alleyway a few blocks from here…just tossed aside,” He began. “Honestly I was hoping there was some money left in it…Fat Chance…but when I looked inside I didn’t see no money or credit cards but whoever took it left behind most everything else…I thought I recognized the picture on your driver’s license from the other day.”
“Oh Dear…Jesus…Thanks Again,” Rebecca smiled, having the fight back the tears of appreciation at the man’s charity. “I feel so horrible about the way my Husband reacted the other day…let me apologize again…Please!!”
“No worry Ma’am…he just felt you were being threatened and he was being protective…its completely understandable. There are some pretty bad dudes wondering around this part of town…you can’t be too careful,” he replied.
“Hold on,” Rebecca spoke up when she sensed the man beginning to turn back into the crowd. “Let me at least go over there and buy you a cup of coffee…its the least I could do.”
“OK Ma’am,” the man finally agreed, swallowing his pride without much of a fight at the thought of allowing such an attractive and well mannered business woman buying him a little warmth on such a cold afternoon.
Sitting at a small table inside the coffee shop with the homeless man, Rebecca couldn’t help feeling self conscious, as if all eyes were on the strangely paired couple.
“Honestly though Rebecca,” she tried to rationalize,” With his clean shirt, relatively new jeans and work boots, if no one knew any better, they’d have no clue he was homeless.
Still, Rebecca recoiled somewhat from the heat of all those perceived stares as she listened attentively to the young man’s story.
His name was PJ and he had grown up in a rural town in South Carolina. He’d freely admitted he had fallen in with a bad crowd after dropping out of high school and he had been helping run drugs north and south for almost a year when their operation was busted. When most of the brains behind the group had drifted back below the Mason-Dixon line when they felt the heat closing in, PJ was left to be a patsy when arrests were finally made.
He had spent the last four years serving his sentence, and had been released three weeks earlier. Without any real place to go, while he was trying to save up enough money from his panhandling to get back home to South Carolina, he knew there wasn’t much waiting for him there either. He’d discovered he could make more a week working the streets of Manhattan than he could in a month in a factory or on a farm back home. And the hours were much better.
Rebecca was startled when she looked down at her watch and saw just how quickly her lunch hour had passed talking to the young man.
“Oh God…I’ve really got to get back up to the office,” she chirped, instantly feeling a twinge of guilt from the deflated look that spread across PJ’s face.
“I’m keeping you…I’m sorry,” he grinned politely. “I’ve forgot what it’s like to have a real job…I’ve really enjoyed this…its the first time I’ve had a coherant conversation with anyone since leaving prison.”
“No…No…it’s not you PJ…I really do have to get back to work…but…,” Rebecca stopped, leaving that little three letter word dangling precariously in the air.
Suddenly the married businesswoman could feel a tomato shade of blush rising across her cheeks and neck.
“I…um…I could probably be out of the office by 3…will you still be out here?” Rebecca voice trailed away, leaving the man sitting across from her looking equally as stunned.
The words were out of Rebecca’s mouth, with no hope of bringing them back, and she felt her foundation beginning to crack when she saw the first gleam of understanding in the stranger’s burdened, brown eyes.
Rebecca knew she’d probably never know, or want to face, the real reason she’d met PJ back down on the street later that afternoon, or why she was standing beside him on the subway heading home to her uptown condo.
It was cast as an offer to the young homeless man as a chance to get a warm shower and a hot meal, but as that subway car raced towards the outskirts of the city, Rebecca felt her own life was somehow helplessly hurdling down those same tracks.
“Eight hours ago, you would have been fearing for your life standing this close to someone that looked like him on the subway,” Rebecca knew, understanding completely the cautious glaze of unease of everyone else surrounding her in the train car as they stared at PJ.
She could also see a look of curiousity in all their eyes as well, and she couldn’t help but feel a shiver of excitement as one by one, those same faces realized the scruffy looking man was with her.
“This whole thing is like some kind of out of body experience,” Rebecca lamented as she dipped her finger into a glass of rum (mainly rum) and Coke.
Standing over her kitchen sink, making a mixed drink as she had done thousands of other times after work over the years, Rebecca listened intently to the sounds of the ice cubes jingling in her glass as their cold friction mingled with the distant humming hiss of the shower on the other side of the condo.
Only this time, it wasn’t her Husband in there taking the shower.
“I expected him to be like a fish out of water when we walked inside,” Rebecca groused, feeling oddly unsettled at just how comfortable PJ seemed as he followed her inside her inner sanctum a few minutes earlier.
“The ultimate act of control is to give it up, and he senses that,” a wise but obtrusive voice in her head reckoned.
“Thank God only a few people saw him and I coming up the elevator, and none that lived here on my floor,” the withering vestiges of Rebecca’s self respect squeaked.
So lost in her own internal malaise, it wasn’t until she heard the shower cut off in the bathroom down the hall that Rebecca was collared back to reality.
“It’s your house, you’re the one who should feel like you have the power here…nothing should happen unless you say so,” Rebecca’s inner strength faded like a distant and distorted radio station. “A shower and a home cooked was all you promised him…”
Rebecca turned when she heard the steady drumbeat of footsteps coming up the hall and nearly dropped her glass when she saw PJ enter the kitchen, still wet from his long shower and clad only in one of her Husband’s robes that she had set out for him.
“Oh My…God,” she exclaimed, unable to believe a simple shower and shave could change a person’s appearance so much. “You look like a new man!”
“I feel like one too,” PJ replied. “It’s the first real shower I’ve had since I got out of jail…Hell its the first time I’ve taken a shower in five years where I didn’t have to keep looking over my shoulder.”
“And such a striking figure he cuts,” Rebecca internally noted, unable to ignore the glaring way PJ filled out her Husband’s robe.
“Here’s a drink,” Rebecca offered as casually as she could despite the vortex of emotions swirling through her.
PJ took the glass and smiled, the whole time studying Rebecca as she supported her weight against the front edge of the kitchen stove.
“It feels like your melting against the stove,” Rebecca’s inner voice trembled, causing her to instinctively turn her head to make sure the eyes weren’t turned on.
“It’s HIS eyes that are melting you, Rebecca,” that same inner voice added as the robe clad stranger stared on in silence.
“He’s been in prison for five years and on the street for a month. He hasn’t been alone with a woman for that long and here he is, half naked in your kitchen after you’ve invited him into your house…and he doesn’t look like he plans on leaving anytime soon,” Rebecca’s conscience crackled, the ice cubes in her glass cracking from the friction as her own self control steadily gave way.
Bowing her head to the left from the intense weight of PJ’s stare, Rebecca braced her back against the stove and raised her cold and sweaty glass up to her neck as the hulking man she had brought home began to stride towards her.
Feeling like a mouse trapped in a corner as PJ approached, Rebecca’s body visibly trembled as his imposing shadow enveloped her.
“UUHHH,” Rebecca groaned when he reached out and touched her for the first time, causing her to spill her drink on the counter in the process.
Engrossed in the moment so completely, PJ wouldn’t allow Rebecca to even turn to see the sticky pool of rum and Coca-Cola wash across the counter and drip down to the floor.
Still dressed in her work clothes, Rebecca withered there, like a fly snared in a web as PJ leaned in and kissed her directly under her right earlobe. Swaying as he pulled back, Rebecca could feel the homeless man sizing her up as he hovered over top of her.
“He did his time like a man and faced his crime and he’s doing all he can to try and drag himself back up with no resources or support…and where’s your Husband right now…out running away from problems of his own making,” Rebecca compared PJ’s plight to her Husband’s as justification for her carnal weakness.
His grip tight on her waist, Rebecca couldn’t move or barely even breath as PJ leaned in once more, this time kissing her hungrily on the side of her neck and collarbone. She could feel a tenderness and caution in his action, but deep down Rebecca knew he was a wild and uncaged animal, ready to strike.
“If its been that long for him without a woman…what on Earth will he do to me?” Rebecca shuddered.
“And its been so long for you without a real man…how will you handle it?” that same cold, inner voice heartlessly asked.
It was then that Rebecca understood PJ’s tenderness and caution was more of a well practiced patience as he prepared to take something that had long been denied.
Wedged that closely to the freshly showered man, Rebecca forced her eyes open so she could take in the bestial gaze of the man she had invited home. Seemingly lost in the hypnotic haze of PJ’s steady acquisition of her body, Rebecca was jolted back to the reality of his true intentions when he removed his right hand from her waist and placed it squarely and unabashedly over her crotch.
Clamping his fingers tight through Rebecca’s tailored, navy blue slacks, the homeless man felt the married woman shudder and gasp as he nearly lifted her feet off the ground from the force of his pelvic grip.
“OOHHHHH,” Rebecca’s moans ripped through the kitchen as she dug her manicured fingernails into the back of the robe she’d given PJ to wear.
From that moment, Rebecca knew her cunt, if not every bit of gristle, bone and soul, had been turned over to PJ as she continued to crudely grind her crotch against his squeezing hand. Digging the tips of her high heels into the tiled floor below to keep her quivering legs from giving way, Rebecca pressed her face flush against PJ’s shoulder as he devoured the soft inner flesh of her neck.
“I’m gonna fuck you right here…right now,” PJ growled up to Rebecca.
“Please,” her hoarse and tattered voice begged.
Before the taste of that word had left Rebecca’s mouth, she could feel PJ roughly pawing at the snap of her slacks. With a few frantic twists, the clasp and zipper were undone and PJ’s right hand was inside her pants. Ashamed at just how moistened her silk panties had become as PJ clawed his fingers across the thin patch of fabric covering her vagina, Rebecca let out a high pitched shriek when he ripped her pants and panties simultaneously down to her knees.
Raising his right foot into the air, PJ quickly stomped down with it until the clothing that had been wedged between Rebecca’s knees was pushed all the way down to her ankles, leaving her completely exposed from her waist to her feet.
Stunned by the animalistic but efficient way PJ was going about undressing her, Rebecca couldn’t help but notice the man’s grotesquely aroused cock as it pushed through the opening of the robe.
“OOHHH,” she shuddered, fixated intently on the swaying piece of marbled manhood that would soon splitting her open.
“No way to stop this now,” Rebecca’s inner voice squeezed, her body quickly going limp as PJ lifted her up and placed her bare ass flush against the soaked counter.
Sandwiched between the irresistible force of PJ’s body and the slippery countertop behind her, Rebecca winced and cried out loud when he stabbed his virile, thick spear into a woman’s cunt for the first time in over five years. Rebecca’s sizzling wet vagina flared into a tight pink ring around PJ’s penetrating manhood, her entire levitated body spasming as PJ groped at her breasts through her now mangled silk blouse.
Once PJ had secured a foothold with his cock inside her quim, Rebecca could feel the full force of the man’s 220 pound frame slamming into her barely 125 pound body each time he violently thrusted forward. Her ass securely perched against the counter, Rebecca couldn’t fathom the image of her feet bouncing wildly in the air in front of her as her naked, outstretched legs flailed recklessly to each side of her younger lover.
Time had seemingly sprung a leak for Rebecca as she became swept up in the primal immediacy of what PJ was doing. The seconds in her head were now being counted off with each pounding collision of PJ’s torso into hers. Sex had never been so raw, stripped away of pretense and sudden for Rebecca and she began to feel as if she might pass out from the frantic and brutal workout the long deprived Ex-Con was putting her through.
Rebecca could feel the entire world around her going black, and all five of her senses exploded with ever increasing intensity as each of PJ’s ramming thrusts crashed into her pulsing vaginal sheath. Her head had become so detached from the heaving vessel of her body, Rebecca had a hard time believing that it was her own pussy that was being stretched to its very limits.
With a savage grunt, PJ’s body tensed and his gyrating pelvis slowed until his rotating thrusts were executed with a deep, calculated precision. Suddenly, it felt as if a bottle of champagne had exploded between Rebecca’s legs, splattering glob after glob of pearly white cum through her screaming, and now saturated, depths.
She had, in fact, blacked out from her and PJ’s nearly simultaneous orgasm.
For the first few moments after coming to, Rebecca thought everything that had happened had just been an extremely graphic dream. That notion was quickly expelled when she felt the slimy residue of PJ’s ejaculate washing copiously through her genitals.
“It still feels like his cock is pumping up and down inside me,” Rebecca dazedly marvaled as the pistoning imprint of PJ’s thorough fucking lingered inside her loins.
“It’s like being in the eye of a hurricane,” Rebecca imagined, having survived the first torrential onslaught of PJ’s pent up lust, only to be given a momentary breather before the next wave tore through her.
Extending her hands out to each side before she had even mustered the courage to open her eyes, Rebecca could feel the familiar grains and softness of her bedroom comforter against her fingertips and she knew PJ must have carried her back to her bedroom after having his way with her in the kitchen.
“That’s the shower,” she said softly when she heard the dull hiss of the water running in the master bathroom.
“He hasn’t had a good, long and carefree shower in over five years…I guess he’s gonna take as many as he can…just like he’s gonna take you as many times as he can,” the untethered voice inside Rebecca’s head prophetically added.
When she heard the shower turn off, Rebecca finally tried peeling open her eyes. Soon after, through her slitted gaze, Rebecca could see PJ emerge from the bathroom, no robe this time, only a towel wrapped around his shoulders as he dried himself off.
Motionless on the bed, a strange sensation of being a piece of captured prey swept through Rebecca as she watched PJ pace side to side by the bed. Unable to think of anything to say, Rebecca just laid there and watched PJ disappear out of the bedroom and up the hall to get himself something to drink, completely naked, free and easy as if her home was his.
While PJ was gone, Rebecca moved her right hand up to her belly before lowering it directly down to the smelting remnants of her brutalized vagina, just to make sure it was still attached to her body. When she ran her fingers through the swollen and gooey muck of pubic hair, seminal fluid and pulpy flesh, a mixture of cringing disgust and unbridled excitement tingled down her spine.
“You’re letting a homeless ex-con just saunter naked around your house…have you lost your mind?” a weak vestige of Rebecca’s inner sensibilities screamed.
“You just let him saunter freely through you…why wouldn’t he think everything else here belonged to him,” came the rational, but rather painful to accept answer from the other side of her brain.
An eternity seemed to pass before PJ came back down the hall. Seeming to stalk Rebecca as she rested on the bed, he took as casual sip of water he’d brought from the kitchen before easing down beside her. Kissing her softly, first on the cheek, then on the shoulder and breast, PJ once again began measuring the slightly built married woman, this time in her own marital bed.
Her back to PJ’s chest, Rebecca could feel the young man’s hardened heart beat against her shoulder blade as he rubbed his hands up and down her naked frame. Blindly feeling PJ’s dick starting to grow once again behind her, tapping like an eager snake at the back of her thighs, Rebecca instinctively knew it wouldn’t be long before he was inside of her for a second time.
After a few moments of petting and prodding from PJ, the unleashed animal between Rebecca’s legs had shoved the exhaustion the rest of her body was feeling to the backburner. As if on autopilot, Rebecca shifted from her side to flat on her back so that she and PJ were kissing face to face as he felt her up. So submerged in her own desperation and debauchery, any concern that she was frolicking around with a complete stranger in her own house, while her Husband was nowhere to be found, had been completely erased.
Before she knew it, PJ once again had bear hugged her exhausted body in his arms and raised Rebecca into the air, depositing her matted and sloppy pussy on top of his torso. Her legs now straddled out to each side of PJ’s waist, Rebecca swayed several times in that kneeling position until she could somewhat gain her balance.
For the first time since being invited inside of Rebecca’s house, PJ felt he could lay back and take the time to enjoy the surreal moment that had been thrust upon him. What he had done with her in the kitchen had been all about uncorking his long, pent-up lust. While the by-product of that had been Rebecca losing consciousness from such a debilitating orgasm of her own, the act from PJ’s end was merely to satisfy his own selfish needs.
With Rebecca now re-positioned on top of him, PJ got a clear sense of just how much his presense had needled, like a thirsty tick, into something deeply lacking in the married woman’s life. He knew now he was the one in control.
Flat on his back with her perched on top of him, PJ looked up at Rebecca and salivated at the way her small breasts danced and swayed against her chest at the same time her pretty face fought making direct eye contact down with him, for the fear of shame that would surely come from it. Tracing his fingers slowly over the smooth, clammy flesh of Rebecca’s hips and thighs, PJ gracefully reached behind her with his right hand to stabilize his painfully pulsing and anxious manhood.
Steadying the stiff rod straight into the air, PJ gradually nudged Rebecca’s crotch off his waist until he could drop her flaming and already soiled pussy back down on top of his jock.
“UURRGGRHHAAHHH,” Rebecca’s voice escaped in a throaty rasp, relief welling in her soul that PJ had once again lodged himself into that throbbing void.
Rocking Rebecca back and forth several times to re-lubricate his jutting staff, PJ increased the pace of his rhythm gradually until she was able to match his grinding thrusts. Her nipples as hard and round as acorns, Rebecca dropped her hands down on top of PJ’s chest to support her withering weight as she pushed her cunt down repeatedly on his groin. Just as the two found the perfect friction however, Rebecca’s cell phone rang.
“NOOOOO,” she groaned defiantly, her body lurching hard from the ultimate cliché of disturbances.
PJ bristled for a moment as the phone rang again, but something deep within his constitution decided the interruption wasn’t going to put a stop to what was unfolding on Rebecca’s bed. Putting his right hand securely on Rebecca’s waist to keep her glowing and leaky pussy in place, PJ reached over to the nightstand with his left and squeezed her cell phone just as the third ring chimed.
“Answer it,” he said matter of factly before putting the phone in her hand.
“It’s… my…Husband,” Rebecca choked her words when she saw the number on the caller ID.
“Then talk to him,” PJ calmly replied before the phone rang again.
“I…can’t…what will…I…,” Rebecca’s voice tremored as she rested there on top of her shameless lover, his cock still buried all the way up inside her.
“OH…GOD,” she wept before finally pressing the talk button.
“Hello,” she meakly greeted her Husband.
A subtle, but noticeable grin spread across PJ’s weathered face as he looked up and watched the machinations the married woman went through trying to have a conversation with her faraway Husband.
“No…I’m fine…just a little tired…I just laid down to take a nap after work,” Rebecca seemed to plead as an excuse for her disheveled tone.
“Where are you?” she asked, curious both about where he disappeared to, and why, as well as hoping for preservation sake, he wasn’t on his way home.
“When are you coming home then?” she asked after not getting a forthright answer to her first question.
Resting on top of PJ, speared on his jutting manhood as she tried making some sense of her marital situation, a rapid and fiery blush rushed across her face and neck when the homeless man reached up and started groping at her breasts as she talked to Neal. Feeling Rebecca’s bare feet tap and dig feverishly at the mattress to each side of his waist, PJ forced his hips down into the bedding before ramming his crotch upwards, causing the tiny woman perched on top of him to violently cringe and shiver.
“Oh…Ah…I had… to…sneeze,” Rebecca lied to her Husband as she fought the overwhelming urge to scream out loud.
“Stop,” the married woman’s spastic eyes seemed to beg down to PJ even though her vaginal muscles continued to intensify their molten grip around his submerged cock.
The conversation between Rebecca and Neal became more and more disjointed by the second as she knelt there on top of her naked lover, being torn apart by her own depraved lust and disgust for her Husband.
Not giving Rebecca a moment’s reprieve, PJ reached up and pressed his thumb against the married woman’s bulging clit, causing her pussy to flare even tighter around his embedded manhood. Savoring the way her entire body shivered and lurched each time he touched her, PJ patiently continued to listen to the surreal conversation playing out on Rebecca’s cell phone.
Finally lifting his back off the sheets below, PJ gracefully eased his face up to Rebecca’s chest before parting his lips and taking half of her left tit into his mouth. Immediately swooning when she felt PJ’s lips suction around her areola and his teeth gently nip at her juicy nipple, Rebecca had to fight to keep her grip on the phone as her Husband continued to talk franticly into her ear.
Feeling the edge of Rebecca’s chin grind against the top of his scalp, PJ could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his cheek as he suckled at her breast. Leaning up in the seated position he was in with Rebecca draped across him, PJ’s cock was forced so deep into the naked woman’s vaginal recesses that he could feel a low guttural purr beginning to rattle from her lungs.
PJ was close enough to the phone’s earpiece that he could hear Neal Quinn’s voice plead into his wife’s ear.
“Rebecca…Are you OK…Rebecca…what’s wrong…Are you alright?” he asked repeatedly.
PJ then took Rebecca’s ass securely into his hands and gradually increased the velocity and depth of his cruel, pelvic jabs until her sweaty body completely gave out and she collapsed in a mangled heap down on top of him.
Her limp and convulsing body flowering around his torso, PJ sped the maliciousness of his thrusts until he could see Rebecca’s grip on the cell phone weaken with each stabbing blow out of the corner of his eye, until it dropped with a dull thud from her fingers down to the matted sheets below, leaving her Husband’s gruff and confused voice bellowing from the receiver.
“Rebecca…Rebecca…,” his voice echoed through the phone as his wife of over 20 years bounced and grinded on top of the homeless man, her face buried against his chest to muzzle her frantic screams.
“YEAH…COME ON…YEEAAHHH…CUM RIGHT ON TOP OF ME, DAMMMITT” PJ demanded, now with no regard for the still activated phone resting to his side.
The rattle of the mattress springs intensified furiously in the following moments until Rebecca was left with no choice but to cum.
“AAAAHHHHHHHHHH AAAHHHHHHHHHHH,” she cried, feeling her entire body explode in glorious agony and release as PJ held her tight on top of his maniacally thrusting cock.
Tears streamed from Rebecca’s eyes, leaking down PJ’s chest, at the same time her own pungent and slick arousal oozed like a punctured water balloon all over his straining crotch.
Suddenly there was nothing but a heavy and lasting silence coming from the strewn aside cell phone receiver…