I gave her a slap then Fucked her face off.

I gave her a slap then Fucked her face off. I gave her a slap then Fucked her face off.

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Summary

She tried to insert me up her arse. That’s not for me, No way! I pulled away from her “I told you downstairs I wasn’t into that, I’m not a fucking queer; I don’t want to be fucking your stinking arse.” I said as I cracked her a couple of times

Summary

She tried to insert me up her arse. That’s not for me, No way! I pulled away from her “I told you downstairs I wasn’t into that, I’m not a fucking queer; I don’t want to be fucking your stinking arse.” I said as I cracked her a couple of times

Content

Submitted: August 05, 2014

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Content

Submitted: August 05, 2014

A A A

A A A


It was a cheap hotel I walked into on that storm night: it wasn't what I had been accustomed too, but thing were difficult now, the money had dried up, and the cost of the divorce had crippled me.  It all went downhill when I found out my wife Magdalene was having a passionate love affair with Ralph, my boss for the past two years.  I wondered where she was getting all the expensive jewellery from, and now I knew.  When I asked her about it, as usual, she flew into one of her many fits of rage.  This time, however, it was different; she had packed her bags and walked out of our council house and moved in with Ralph.

Me! Being a stupid angry idiot, decide I would punish Ralph. I would beat him up. I would knock seven bells of crap out of him, and win her back.  It didn't work out that way; the plan failed miserably. Giving him a good hiding wasn't a problem: but winning her back?  No, not a chance!  She told me in no uncertain terms, “she would never return to the house and the kids” as far as she was concerned; she had done her bit for society, producing two kids, who could carry on the family name such as it was if they ever wanted to.

That's how Magdalene saw it.  As a wife and mother, she had done her duty, and now she was turning her back on scrimp and save, make-do-and-mend lifestyle she had known for the past four years. She wasn't going to be tied down for the next fifteen years. That was a thing of the past; she was moving on with her life, and none of it included us. I begged and pleaded with her: I told her how much I loved her and wanted her back home.  I said we could work something out. 

I soon realized I was wasting my breath, and it was no use; it was like talking to an ice maiden.  Magdalene had smelt the coffee. For the first time in her life, she was being treated like a princess; with her own bank account, weekends at the races, buzzing around in Ferrari's. Swimming with the beautiful people at their mansions in L.A. And by using the guy lying on the floor in front of me she now had it all.  I was a has-been a nobody, a yesterday's man and I didn't figure in any of her future plans.

He got up from the floor rubbing his chin “That's the last free shot you'll have: next-time you had better-come tooled up; because you are going to need all the protection you can get.” He said, looking at me menacingly. I wanted to slug him again, this upstart, this wife-steeling son of a bitch: I wanted to tear his fucking head off his shoulders; the arrogant bastard; ‘but instead!  Like a little-frightened dog, I turned and walked out of the office; slamming the door behind me, and down the spiral staircase out into the wet rain-sodden street. 

I thought; you had your chance: why didn't you kill him there and then? “You hadn't got the guts, had you?  I questioned myself! I was so angry for not doing anything that would harm him. A quick punch on the chin wasn't going to get her back, but anything I could do was better than just walking away.  In my heart, I knew when I threw the punch my marriage was over now, and if I wanted sweet revenge, then only murder would satisfy me. But whose death should it be: the whore two timing ex-wife, or him, the little twisted short arse fucker? I remember his words, “come tooled up.”  Did that mean I was on some sort of a hit list one he had put together with his crooked chums?  It had been rumour he had someone bumped off a few years ago; the police put him in the frame, but couldn't prove it one way or the other.

The hotel was dingy and the reception area such as it was dirty with a threadbare carpet on the floor.  There was a fat little clown in an off white shirt sitting behind a makeshift wooden desk with a bottle of booze in his fist.  A 20 something-year-old prostitute was sitting in the corner facing the door. “Have you got a room for the night?  I asked, “Yeah, who wants one?  His stupid question annoyed me  “It's for me you dickhead, why do you think I asked; did you think it was for me and the fucking whore sat there?” She didn't say anything in fact she just smiled at me. “Its  £20 quid a night and no visitors,” he said. “What do you mean no visitors?” I said. “ Who the fuck would want to bring anyone back to this moth-eaten fucking fleapit?

I handed him a £20 note from my leather wallet. “Where's my room? “Top of the stairs, first on the right.” He said throwing the key in my direction; it landed close to the prostitutes feet; she bent forward and picked it up; her tits were big and hanging partially out of her open blouse; I could just see the top of her pink strawberry nipples; they looked big, juicy and inviting. She knew her advertising had worked and I was interested, as she looked up at me smiling and handing me the key.

I was feeling a bit of a sensation inside my pants; it had been a long-time since I had any kind of sex; mostly reverting back the girly magazine for a quick hand job.  “How much sweaty?” I ask.  “Its £40 pounds,” she said, "and you can have anal or any way all night if you want it.” “No, anal!  I said, “I'm not into poking about in shit.”  Come up to my room in about ten minutes.” 

The guy at the reception started laughing. “That's another mug who has given you a bed for the night Mary.” He said.  I looked at him straight into his beady eyes.  “Who the fuck are you calling a mug?” I said as I reached over the flimsy desk and grabbed him by his hair pulling him towards me “Just a joke mate,” he said. “Just a joke!”  I let him go, and he fell back onto his chair. “Ten minutes daring and its no £40 quid either, a tenner and I use my on johnnies, and I don't want any second-hand crap out of your bag. 

I went up to my room such as it was: with a bed that looked like it was out of the ark, and nobody in their right mind would sleep on the spunk stained mattress; it was only there for shagging on.  I sat down on a chair and took off my shoes; I had been on my feet all day, trying to sort things out for me and the kid, both had been taken in by a kind family chosen by the council until we got out act together.

The ten minutes passed quickly when there was a knock at the door.  Mary had arrived, I opened the door, and there she stood a man's answer for a cheap thrill, a good shag, and no strings attached, no bloody orgasms expected, no sod-din screaming kids as a result, just a straight fuck with no complications to follow me about forever.

I had planned how I was going to have her, “Come on in darling and get your kit off!” I said. She hesitated and stood looking at me. "What's the problem girl? I asked, are you a fucking virgin?  “Patience big boy,” she said. “All in good time, its £40 pounds first.”  I was getting annoyed with her now; I could feel my temper was once again whelming up. "I told you downstairs there be no fucking £40 quid.”  I backhanded her she fell on the bed, her legs open; I could see the shape of her fanny; some say they wink at you, well this one wasn't winking, but it looked really inviting.  She wasn't one of those “got to have a shave chicks either.”  I could see the mop of dark black hair protruding outside of her tight thin white pants; she was my kind of woman.  I hate the new craze; bold fannies do nothing for me, but I will still dip them when I have a chance.

She started to get up from the bed. “I'm not staying here dearie, not to be beaten up; I can get that at home.”  She said in a sort of half crying voice.  Sorry! I said; not meaning, it, but now I was starting to enjoy the thought of cheap shag. “Ok, £20 quid darling, but that's it: you take the money now and get you clothes off, or you piss off, the choice is yours,” I said, in a cold couldn't careless manner.  She began to undress; her face wasn't up too much, but her body, my god, her body was something else. Her massive firm tits with large strawberry pointed nipples were all I expected. 

She knew I was enjoying the sight of her stripping.  “I'll leave my paint on, you can take them off if you like,” she said, smiling provocatively at me. I did like; I did like very much pulling them down and rubbing my face in that fantastic brush between her legs as she lay back on the bed.  I started licking and fingering her, with my thumb pressing against her ring, my tongue dancing on her clit, she was wet and smelled a bit sweaty, fishy, but all the smells and the juices added to the excitement.

I was rushing to get my pants off slipping the jonnie out of the pocket.  With her, long slender fingers with red nail polish; she opened the packet and took hold of my hard erect penis.  She slipped the Johnnie over it. "I hate those fucking things, but far better wearing one than having a fucking cauliflower for a knob. I have a good cock 12 inches and thick, “a bit like me!”  She was well experienced, nothing less I suppose then you would expect from a street girl.  She knew what I wanted, and she was doing all the right things; sucking me and playing with my balls, I relaxed, it was like a dream, at last, a real woman. 

She knew I was ready to penetrate her, and guided me into her happy tunnel of love. I was kissing her and humping hard.  I felt my prick fall out; she took charge of the situation as only an experienced woman knows how. Taking hold of it, I felt her oiling it softly but firm. I didn’t know where the oil had come from, and I wasn’t bothered, but what she did next irritated me, she tried to insert me up her arse.

That’s not for me, no way! I pulled away from her “I told you downstairs I wasn’t into that, I’m not a fucking queer; I don’t want to be fucking your stinking arse.”  I said as I cracked her a couple of times.  She covered her face with her hands expecting more punishment, but this time I managed to resist belting her again and instead I tried to comfort her: not because I felt any remorse at what I had done.

In my blinkered mind, I thought this kind of woman was only put on this earth for shagging and cracking.  I didn't think that once she was a young girl who had dreams and plans, ambitions, and now there she lay, naked beaten and abused, where would she be in twenty years time; would she still be alive?  A hard, unforgiving game she was mixed up in, and now there was no escape for her. 

No! My thoughts were “she might not let me fuck her again.”  Surprisingly she apologized for her actions; I don't know if she meant it or was just saying it, trying to avoid another backhand.  I didn't care as I pushed her back onto the bed and mounted her again. I have to confess, for a pro, she was nice and tight and first class shag.  I reached happiness and was about to cum when she whispered in a sexy voice, "give it to me honey." I knew what she meant and pulled out.  She was keen and pulled the Johnnie off as I moved up the bed rubbing my knob between her tits; she gave me a great titty-roll as she licked the end. I was even more excited as she started sucking me and playing with my balls; I didn't realize how far she could get it down her throat, she was making some fantastic noises. 

As she started tossing me off, I could feel the spunk coming up, and with her mouth open she was licking her lips. "Come on baby," she said, "come on baby." Like a pistol shot, I hit her in her face and around her tits with my life giving sperm.  She swallowed as much as she could while wiping the rest over her naked body.  She was enjoying it as much as I was as she sucked out the last drop of my milk from my now dropping knob.

Suddenly I saw out the corner of my eye the door opening and this guy was standing there.  He shouted at the girl “Get out of here Mary, me and this twat have a score to settle.”  The girl jumped off the bed and grabbing her clothes off the chair legged it out of the room.  He wasn't all that, nothing special about him, maybe 6ft tall at a pinch; thin with a ferret-like face; I would put him as maybe 11 stone. I laughed to myself, “I expect this is her pimp; he looks more like a fucking pimple.”

There was nothing he had that was capable of scaring me, or intimidating me, maybe he thought the flick-knife he had in his right hand should have done something. I wasn't afraid; in fact, I was looking forward to a good knife fight.  My last one was with a China-man a few years ago in Soho over some crying tart; “I can't even remember her name now.” It got me a nice long scar down the inside of my right arm, and that was all. The China-man lost an eye and a couple of his fingers, but we both enjoyed it. “Happy days! 

"Because I've had to collect, its £100 quid now mate, or I stick you.” He said.  I laughed as I pulled on my pants. “Stick me, who the fuck are you kidding?  Take a bit of advice mate while you're still standing, and before you get hurt. Fuck off now, and I will do the same unless you want that excuse for a knife rammed up your shitty arse," I said as I stood up, in front of him.

 

He came at me with a sort of lunge stabbing attack, and at speed. This 11 stone weakling had no chance, against my six foot five inch eighteen stone frame.  I smashed him in the head as I moved away from the blade. I saw his eyes roll-up to the top of his head as he grunted, and fell like a brick half slumped over the bed; I kicked his legs, and he fell face down onto the floor, he was out cold. 


I was a bit disappointed; I thought he had more in him than that, even I didn't expect to take him out so easily.  I felt around his pockets; he had a load of money on him in twenty's and fifty's there must have been £1,000 quid. "Well, mate I thought as I pocketed the money.  I did warn you anyhow you shouldn't go around threatening innocent people." Removing the knife from his hand, I split his cheap half-length simulated leather coat down the back and severed his plastic belt; I laughed to myself thinking about his trouser falling down when he finally came round and stood up. As I left the hotel the girl was sitting on a chair fully clothed, and the guy was looking at me, he looked surprised to see me.  I threw a fifty towards the girl, “Here darling I said have a bit of a bonus." I left the dump and walked to the station I would soon be on the beach in the USA and away from this pig of life here. I had decided the kids were far better off with the nice family than with anything I could offer them.


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