By Mona LaVigne
It had been so long since he'd touched another woman (only one since Mia, but that had been a hooker. That incident had barely occurred to him, as he had shoved it way far back into his psyche, since he had been so ashamed), that when his fingers gazed Angelica's nipple, he loosened his grip on her left arm out of sheer amazement at how soft she was. In his moment of weakness, he found himself spread eagle under her. She had taken advantage of his erotic stupor and had flipped him over onto his back. Angelica straddled Mitchell Reinhardt's hips, pinning both of his wrists perpendicular to his body. His mouth was open in shock at her quick maneuvering. He looked like he was being crucified.
Angelica's breasts were exposed, pale and veiny in the ribbons of light coming through the blinds on the window. She was completely naked under her robe, and even thought SHE now had the upper hand, Mitchell Reinhardt could not help but be a tiny bit excited when he became aware of the fact that the only thing separating his prick from her pussy was the thin and worn fabric of his sweat pants. She felt him get hard beneath her and in her fear and rage, now bubbled completely to the surface, she pressed her open hand against his throat.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Mitchell Reinhardt," Angelica seethed, "I DO NOT KISS MEN!" She was speaking very slowly and very softly, but her anger was nearly blinding him.
Still holding his throat with one hand and his right arm with the other (one of Mitchell Reinhardt's many defects was that if one arm was pinned, the other had no use. He had made the unwitting mistake of telling Angelica this fact during one of their late night talks when she had first come home), Angelica carefully shifted her positioning and brought her knee to his his crotch.
"One wrong move," she sneered, "and my knee and your balls will be inexorably joined."
Mitchell Reinhardt's eyes widened as he finally realized that Angelica was definitely capable of murder, that crazy sexual deviant. She removed her hand from his throat an reached behind her on the bed. In her fist she held a crumpled sheet. She held the sheet before Mitchell Reinhardt's face and shook it furiously.
"So," she said, her breathing returning back to normal, "you want to know what it's like when two women fuck each other?"
Mitchell Reinhardt was silent.
"Of course you do. And I am going to show you."
With that, Angelica shoved the crumpled sheet into Mitchell Reinhardt's mouth. He struggled miserably beneath her.
"TASTE THAT?" she yelled against his muffled cries, "That's what two women having foreplay tastes like. That section that you are sucking on was where Corinne and I were lying when she had her fingers in my pussy." She removed the sheet from his mouth, and just as he caught his breath, she pushed another part of the sheet into his mouth. "Do you taste that? That was when I had my fist in her pussy. Her tight, dripping pussy. Wasn't she pretty? Didn't she look gooood when she was coming out of the bathroom? Yeah, well now you have a small idea of exactly HOW good." She lifted she sheet again, and before Mitchell Reinhardt could beg her to retreat, she slammed her sheet-filled hand into his maw once again. "OH! And this part right here, this is the coup de grace! This is the part where Corinne and I were lying when we were sitting on each other's faces. That's right, Mitchell Reinhardt, the big SIX NINE! And MAN, OH, MAN, did she taste sweeter than fresh honey from the comb! Oh yeah, Corinne's cunt tasted like sweet peach syrup." She lifted her hand once again, and before she could repeat the horrifying process, Mitchell Reinhardt muttered "Please!"
No comments:
Post a Comment