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The affair continues.
I knew the clock was ticking, that I only had so much time before she changed her mind. The morning light was coming through the shutters in bars, striping her body like a prisoner, and I could tell she was already feeling remorse.
I got naked and got onto the bed next to her and took her in my arms, but she turned her face away.
"Jeffrey, I can't." Her voice was excited, breathless. "Let me use my mouth on you. I can do that. I can make it good."
"No," I said. "No. It's you I want. Not your mouth. You, all of you."
"Please," she tried to push me away again but now I'd had enough.
She was another man's wife. Another man's luck and good fortune, his love at one time, and his life. Another man's, and it was always like that. Never mine. Never my women, my life.
I grew frantic and grabbed her wrists. I pressed them down into the bed on either side of the pillow and loomed over her, looked into her eyes and saw them flare with sudden hunger and excitement.
"This is rape," she said. "Holding me like this, it's rape. Is that what you want?"
I was stupid with lust. It took me a minute to realize what she was telling me, and then I tightened my grip on her wrists.
"I'll take it," I said. "I'll take it any way I can get it."
She still struggled, but something had gone out of the fight. Her body had already relaxed into the bed, only her arms still resisted. She balled her hands into fists and tried to escape, tried to free her wrists, but I was so much stronger, it was easy to hold her down. She pushed against my hands, arching her back and testing my strength, wanting to know I was really holding her. Then she gave up, closed her eyes and turned her face to the side. Her chest was heaving. I could see the pulse beating fast in the side of her neck.
I transferred both her wrists to one hand and still easily held her down. I trailed my other hand over her body, taking whatever I wanted: her breasts, her nipples, the tight stomach and the soft warm bulge in her panties. She wouldn't turn her face to me so I kissed her body, her throat, sucked her nipples into my mouth and pressed my fingers to her swollen flesh and made her groan. Being held down had done something to her. I could feel her moisture through her panties.
Her panties. I slid my hand up through the leg hole, curled my fingers over the top and yanked, pulling her ass off the bed. She yelped in alarm. The panties held so I pushed my finger tips against the open fabric and punched up. The fabric was sheer and my fingers broke through, and then it was easy to just shred them. I tore at them like a terrier with a rat..
"Oh God!" she moaned. "Oh God, no!"
With her panties in tatters I rolled between her legs. I held her wrists down hard and my cock searched for her as she raised her hips in an effort to push me off, but all the time her eyes were looking at my hands holding her wrists, first at one and then the other, like she couldn't believe it. I laid my weight on her, driving her ass down against the bed and my cock found her and sunk into that tight, swollen pussy.
It was holding her that did it, the feel of my hands on her wrists, and once I had opened her she thrust her hips up at me to take me deep, and she started grinding against me in hot, hungry circles. She wasn't as weak as I'd thought, not as far as her hips and legs and belly went, and she planted her feet on the mattress and fucked up at me like a cock-starved whore.
"Beautiful bitch!" I gasped down at her. "This is what you need, isn't it? To be held down and fucked hard."
She whined in her throat but her hips never stopped. "No," she whispered. "No, you're raping me. There's nothing I can do! You're too strong...holding me down...making me do it!"
It was some sick game but I didn't care.