Mature Man & Maiden Maureen Ch. 14

Literotic asexstories – Mature Man & Maiden Maureen Ch. 14 by SusanJillParker,SusanJillParker
Lady Gwendolyn is a sadism and machoism Dominatrix.

Unbeknownst to me while I sexually lusted over her, I had no idea that Gwen was a Dominatrix. Sexually shocking me, she’s heavily into sadism and machoism. To look at her, I never would have suspected that she’d be into that sort of thing.

‘Who knew,’ I thought?

If I knew that she was into sexual gratification by inflicting pain on herself and/or on me, I would have allowed her to remain dressed when I put her to bed. I never would have undressed her. I never would have stripped her naked. I never would have agreed to have sex with her.

‘God help me,’ I thought.

“I like sex rough,” she said sexually surprising me while immediately cluing me in on her painful intentions.

‘What? Huh? She likes rough sex? What does that even mean,’ I thought?

I stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language. She suddenly stared at me as if she was a spider and I was a helpless fly caught in her web of sex and debauchery.

“The rougher the better,” she said with a sexy laugh and a naughty look.

# # #

Continued from Chapter 13: Mature Man & Maiden Maureen.

I thought about what her father would say and how he would perceive me, as I would have thought about any man my age sexually assaulting my daughter in the way that I had sexually assaulted Gwen and Maureen. Indeed, even though Gwen had asked me to undress her and to strip her naked, I was hardly an innocent bystander. Before she even asked me to undress her and strip her naked, I was already prepared to undress her. I was ready to strip her naked and have sex with her drunken body.

What man would strip a woman naked who was helplessly passed out on his guestroom bed? Yet, my saving grace was that Gwen had willingly asked me to undress her. She had given me her permission to undress her. She had consensually asked me to strip her naked. She had given me her permission to remove all of her clothes. She wanted me to see her beautiful, naked body as much as I wanted to see her sexy and shapely body.

Then, not stopping with just stripping her naked, she had asked me to touch and feel her naked body everywhere that a man engaged to her deceased sister should never touch and feel her naked body. Unbelievably and sexually excitingly, hard for me to believe, she wanted to have sex with me as much as I wanted to have sex with her. Now, not only had I had sex with one of her father’s daughters but also I had sex with two of his daughters.

More than that, should his wife, Maureen’s, and Gwen’s mother, Carol, come for a visit, I was ready to get her drunk, carry her to bed, undress her, strip her naked, and have sex with her, too. Should their grandmother, aunt, and/or cousins come for a visit, too, I was ready to get them all drunk, undress them, strip them all naked, and fuck them all, too. Unable to control myself from wanting to have sex with Gwen as much as I had wanted to have sex with her sister, this family had sexually turned me into a deranged pervert. I couldn’t control myself from wanting to have sex with them.

Reflecting back to when Gwen was on her knees waiting to puke in the toilet, when she looked up and over at my erect, naked penis, I couldn’t help but think about her sucking my cock again. Only, as I’d discover later, thinking that I was the sexual predator, she was the spider and I was her victim. Female spiders always eat their male lovers after copulation. If Gwen was anything, she was a Dominatrix that I feared.

‘God help me,’ I thought again.

# # #

Had I known then what I know now, I would have grabbed her by her hair, pulled her hair, slapped her across her face, and forced her to suck my cock while I squeezed her huge, naked breasts. She would have not only been happy that I made such an aggressively, sexual move but she would have loved me taking sexual control of her. Maybe after that, after forcing her to suck my big dick, with me having the upper hand, and with me being the one in control, this wild, one-sided, sexual affair would have been over.

Unfortunately, once I innocently invited her into my bed, I was hers for the taking. Here I am treating her like she is someone worthy to stand atop a pedestal and she’d rather be on her knees sucking my cock as I slapped her around. In actuality, indeed, I am the innocent one. I’m the one who she could have put high up on the pedestal. I’m the one who would have treated her with kindness and respect instead of inflicting pain on her beautiful body.

Instead, with her the sexual predator, I was just another notch on her pink belt. Suddenly, being just another sexual victim of Gwen’s lusty libido, I felt sexually used and physically abused. I felt like a piece of beefcake meat, but in a perversely perverted sort of way, admittedly, I liked the feeling. Yet, I had no idea that she’d take us having sex to a whole another level, an area that I had never experienced until now.

# # #

She was so similar to her sister in appearance, and it was easy to draw the parallel conclusions that they’d be similar in bed. I thought that they’d be much the same in bed when having sex. Boy, was I wrong. As it turned out, that was completely opposite to think that they were anything alike. She was so different in bed. I had no idea the sexual animal that she turned out to be. She had the sexual libido of a horny man instead of a sexy woman.

Where Maureen was a generous lover, soft, and gentle, Gwen was the sexy vixen, tough and rough, and read for sexual action. Foxy sly in her way to get what she wanted and what she needed, hiding her cards under the table until she was ready to play them, she was a very dangerous woman. Boy, if ever she was in the corporate world, she’d have a rocket ship ride up the ladder of success by sleeping her way to the top.

Sex was very different when having sex with her sister. I attributed much of the difference in making love with Maureen than just having sex with her was because we were lovers and were in love. Whereas, not feeling the same way about Gwen that I did for Maureen, and that she felt about me, it was strictly sex with Gwen. As if we were competing in a contest, one that I’d never win, we were sexual combatants intent on getting the prize, the ultimate orgasm.

Now that I know what she is, it was quite obvious to me that she had more of a lustful appetite for sex than did her sister, or Colleen, and even me for that matter. Unlike her sister who enjoyed pushing my sexual buttons with dirty talk, Gwen was quiet, and business like in her quest to sexually satisfy herself. An untamed, sexual animal, she was the consummate, sexual, sex machine.

Not wasting her breath with meaningless words, she did all of talking with her body. She put explanation points to her sexual meanings through her sexual actions. Forget about pillow talk, there was no wasted energy with her talking dirty to me. Not wanting to hear it, she wouldn’t even allow me to talk dirty to her. If she was going to become sexually aroused over anything, she was going to become sexually aroused while fucking.

Again, so different from Maureen, she didn’t talk much during sex, didn’t talk dirty, and there was no pillow talk whatsoever. There was just plain and simple, raw fucking. She wanted to be fucked fast and hard. She wanted me to give her a sexual orgasm. She wanted me to give her multiple, sexual orgasms with my fingers, my tongue, and my cock.

Important to her, she needed to cum. She expected to be fucked good, and I had better not disappoint her, or I’d be fucked, and she’d fuck me up. She expected me to fuck her fast and hard enough to give her a sexual orgasm with my cock. Not asking me to wear a condom, she wanted me to cum in her pussy. Hoping that she was on the pill, I wondered if she wanted me to impregnate her as I impregnated her sister.

In the realm of be careful what you wish for, ignorance is bliss, I had wished to see her in her bra and panties. I had wished to see her topless. I had wished to see her naked. I had wished to have sex with her. I had wished for her to blow me. I had wished that she’d allow me to cum in her beautiful mouth.

Unaware what I was wishing for, I had lusted over the woman of the dark, sexual places. Be afraid, be so very afraid, and I was. I was afraid of Gwen. Someone that I could never love, instead, I feared her. She was a Dominatrix from the dark, fiery depths of Hell.

# # #

Mature Man & Maiden Maureen, Chapter 14:

Those four, little words, ‘I like it rough,’ hit me like a bucket of ice, cold water. It was as if she abruptly awakened me while I comfortably snoozed in a hammock or had pushed me in the pool while I was wearing my clothes. Here I was thinking that I was the one taking sexual advantage of her, when she was the one taking sexual advantage of me. I had no idea that I was being sexually played until it was too late and I was up to my neck in sadism and machoism sex.

‘She likes it rough,’ I thought. ‘What does that even mean?’

Her words echoed through my mind. I’ve never sexually been with a woman who liked it rough. Whatever she exactly meant by that, I didn’t know? I had no idea.

Explain rough,’ I thought. ‘Explain rough sex. Explain what you sexually expect of me.’

I wanted to ask her what she meant by rough sex but with her twice my age, I’d come across as someone who wasn’t very, sexually sophisticated.

‘Is she going to whip me,’ I wondered? ‘Does she expect me to whip her? Is she going to hurt me? Does she take sexual pleasure in hurting me? Is she expecting me to hurt her? Does she take sexual pleasure in me hurting her?’

I had no idea. I didn’t know. I was just suddenly afraid to have sex with her.

I imagined myself being in a scene from Bad Boys? While imagining the worst, sexual scenario, is she expecting me to fill a pillow case with soda cans and beat her body bloody? Or was it her intention to beat me bloody?

Maybe, she wanted me to push her down a flight of stairs before mounting her? Maybe, I should drag her behind my car for several blocks, before taking her from behind. Maybe, she expected me to tie her to my bed and do whatever I wanted to do to her naked body.

‘Oh, oh, I’m in serious trouble here,’ I thought. ‘I don’t know what to do? I don’t know how to sexually satisfy her. Definitely, she’s out of my league. I’m a lover, not an abuser.’

# # #

“Wouldn’t you just prefer a nice back massage to get you in the mood? Maybe, I could rub your feet and even suck your toes before we make love.” I looked over at her for her reaction. “How about a little conversation,” I asked hoping to cajole her to talk to me?

Confessing to her what turned me on, I told her what I liked when having sex.

“I like pillow talk. I like talking dirty while having sex,” I said. “Talking dirty makes me sexually excited.”

As if bored by the thought of pillow talk and talking dirty, she made a face, rolled her eyes, and sighed.

It was clearly obvious to me that Gwen wanted none of that. She didn’t want me to massage her back. She didn’t want me to rub her feet or even suck her toes. She didn’t want pillow talk. She didn’t want me to talk dirty to her. She just wanted sex, rough sex. I felt pressured to deliver what she wanted.

Unaware what I had done, I had opened Pandora’s box by showing her my erect snake, when walking around in front of her naked. Something that she couldn’t control and something that I could never tame, I had unwittingly unleashed the inner beast in her. When she told me that she liked it rough, at a loss for words, I didn’t know what she meant by rough. I didn’t know what to say in return. I’ve never been with a woman who liked rough sex. How rough is rough?

‘Sugar and spice and everything nice was replaced by slaps, hits, pulls, and twists, and everything that hurts,’ I thought.

# # #

It would have been enough for me that she wanted to have sex with me, but now that she told me that she wanted rough sex, I was at a loss what to do. I’ve always been a kind, gentle, grateful, and a loving man, especially when in bed naked with a naked, beautiful woman who’s more than half my age. The fact that she wanted sex, rough sex, and sex the rougher the better made me realize that I was out of my element. It was then that I wished I had the official rule book for having rough sex.

Surely, Amazon must sell a guide for rough sex.

“Alexa, define rough sex,” I asked?

Even Alexa knew what rough sex was. She gave me a long description of BDSM. She made me wonder just how many people practiced rough sex and/or bondage, discipline or domination, sadism, and masochism.

“I enjoy feeling frightened and being forced,” she said with a soft smile as if she said that she likes ice cream sundaes.

‘Oh, shit,’ I thought. ‘This woman is into some seriously, heavy sex. Scottie beam me up, now!’

Did she want me to wear a mask and gloves while pretending that I was a burglar breaking into my own house. Did she want me to slap her around, burn her with lit cigarettes, and beat her? Did she want me to strip her naked and forcefully, rape her?

‘What if I just snuck up behind her and said boo while grabbing and groping her huge, naked breasts,’ I thought? ‘Would that work? Would that frighten her and force her enough to sexually satisfy her?’

# # #

I had a feeling that she’d prefer a couple of convicts, who’ve been serving hard time, and who just broke out of prison to ravish her. Suddenly, I had an image of her being gang banged by a bunch of Hells Angels. I had an image of her being pissed off because they didn’t have any more to give her. I imagined her wearing them all out and them pleading with her to stop.

‘No. Please stop. No more, Gwen. We can’t fuck you anymore. We’re exhausted. We’re spent. We can’t possibly cum again,’ I imagined the Hells Angels saying.

Then, if that wasn’t enough that she told me that she liked rough sex, and the rougher the better, she shocked me with what she said next. She gave me a taste of what she erotically wanted and sexually expected me to do to her beautiful, naked body.

“It’s okay if you want to slap my ass hard, really hard, the harder the better,” she said staring up at me with a sexually deranged look on her face instead of staring up at me with innocence.

I returned her look of innocence with my look of confusion.

“I like having my naked ass paddled,” she said as if she was telling me that she liked having her shoulders massaged.

‘What? Slap her ass hard, the harder the better? Paddle her ass? I don’t have a paddle other than the paddle that I have for my canoe. Would that work,’ I wondered?

I imagined paddling her ass so hard that I knocked her in the middle of the lake with my canoe paddle.

‘How was that, Gwen? Have you been sufficiently paddled,’ I imagined asking her?

At a loss what to do other than to humor her by slapping her ass, I looked at her as if she was speaking a foreign language.

‘What made her tell me that? Do I look like an ass slapper,’ I thought? ‘I’ve never slapped Maureen’s beautiful ass nor Colleen’s shapely ass. I’ve never slapped any woman’s ass. Now, Gwen’s wanted me to not only slap her ass but also, she wanted me to slap her ass hard, really hard, and paddle her ass.’

Slapping her beautiful ass hard, really hard, is akin to throwing red paint on the Mona Lisa or on a beautiful, mink coat. Now, why would I slap her ass? Slapping her shapely, naked ass would do nothing for me. I’d rather touch her ass, feel her ass, squeeze her ass, and kiss her naked ass. I’m sorry, Honey, I wanted to say, but slapping your ass hard, really hard is wrong on so many levels.

“I like it when you, as the strong he-man, take sexual control of me, the weak woman,” she said while suddenly showing me her submissively, vulnerable side.

‘The strong he-man? Weak woman my ass. She’s no weak woman. She must have mistaken me for Macho Man or for the Hulk. I’m a lover and not an ass slapper,’ I thought.

# # #

No longer underestimating her, I had a feeling this broad could bench press more than me. There’s nothing weak, shy, and demur about this woman. Suddenly, this strong he-man is a bit weak in the knees with the thoughts of trying to sexually satisfy Lady Gwendolyn by giving her rough sex. While putting the fear of God in her, she wanted and expected me to force myself on her. She wanted me and expected me to slap her ass hard, really hard.

‘Gee, Honey,’ I thought. ‘Wouldn’t you prefer a little sweet talk mixed in with some dirty talk? Wouldn’t you prefer if I made slow and passionate love while making out with you instead of hooking up your nipples to the jumper cables on my car battery?’

“I like it when you force me to do dirty and nasty, sexual things to your naked body,” she said with a determined look in her eyes that scared the shit out of me.

Suddenly, she looked as if she was possessed by the Devil, and the Devil was a woman named Lady Gwendolyn.

‘Dirty and nasty sexual things,’ I thought? ‘What dirty and nasty sexual things? Explain dirty, sexual things. Explain nasty, sexual things.

The only dirty and nasty sexual things that I could imagine was when Colleen tossed my salad, licked my ass, and stuck her long, manicured finger up my asshole, but that felt good, really good. Yet, indeed, that was dirty. That was nasty.

Nonetheless, I suspected that Lady Gwendolyn wanted more, much, much more than just tossing my salad. Suddenly, I felt as if I was the cableman in a cheap budgeted, XXX movie. I felt as if I was the dumb, pizza man showing up at the porn star’s house when she was horny, really horny.

# # #

With this all new to me, I’ve never been with a woman who preferred rough sex to gentle sex. As if I was ascending a steep mountain top without a Sherpa guide, this was a new, rocky road for me to explore and a treacherous road to take. Is this the price that I must pay to have sex with someone as young, as beautiful, and as voluptuous, as Gwen?

Only, I’ve never been with a woman who had such an established, sexual agenda and with a list of so many personal, sexual preferences. Her sexual demands were not only scary but also overwhelming. Admittedly, she was a bit sexually intimidating to a mature man like me.

Suddenly, I wished that I had headgear, elbow and knee pads, a chest protector, and body armor. I felt much like a rookie wrestler about to enter the squared circle with a professional mauler. I felt as if I was standing in the Roman Coliseum entered in a competition, a game, where only one survived and everyone was betting against me.

‘Gwen…Gwen…Gwen,’ I could hear the crowd chanting! ‘Gwen…Gwen…Gwen!’

I imagined standing in the middle of the coliseum quaking while waiting for Lady Gwendolyn to make her entrance naked and standing upon her black chariot powered by her black horse, named Devil. I imagined watching her swiftly enter the coliseum. I imagined her mercilessly whipping her horse to make it run faster in the way that she was about to whip me for me to hump her faster and harder. I imagined her whipping me.

‘Faster! Hump me faster! Harder! Hump me harder! Give me a sexual orgasm with your cock. Make me cum,’ I imagined her saying while she whipped my ass with her whip in the way that I imagined her whipping her horse.

# # #

At first I thought it funny that she wanted me to slap her ass, so I complied by lightly slapping her firm, round cheeks. No problem. I can do this. This isn’t so bad. Actually, it’s kind of hot fun to slap her ass.

‘Here you go, Honey. How’s that,’ I thought? ‘Consider your ass sufficiently slapped. Isn’t this fun? Actually, with me having never slapped any woman’s ass, slapping her ass was, indeed, sexy fun.’

Surely, I didn’t want to turn her off by slapping her ass too hard and by hurting her beautiful bottom. The last thing that I wanted to do to her shapely, naked ass was to leave a red imprint of my big hand and long, thick fingers. Actually, I’d have preferred to take a little nibble out of firm, round ass. Besides, instead of slapping her ass, she had such a wonderful ass that I just wanted to feel her naked ass, caress her naked ass, squeeze her ass, and massage her firm, round cheeks before…

“Harder,” she said.

‘Huh? What? Harder? Seriously,’ I thought? ‘She wanted me to slap her ass harder?’

“Harder,” she said again and was all that she replied to me slapping her beautiful, naked ass.

Again, I slapped her round, firm ass a little harder than before as I humped her while burying my cock deeper inside of her warm and wet pussy.

“Harder,” she said, yet, again. “Don’t be such a wimp. Slap my ass harder.”

‘Harder,’ I thought? ‘What the fuck? ‘Is she kidding me? Is she serious? How hard does she want me to slap her ass. How hard is too hard? The last thing that I wanted to do was to hurt her.’

She made me wish that I was wearing a belt with a big, western, rodeo type of buckle so that I could beat her naked ass with it.

‘Is that hard enough for you,’ I imagined asking her while leaving big, red, swollen welts on her shapely, naked ass? ‘Wait let me stand up so that I can take a running jump and a harder swing at your sweet, naked ass. How’s that? Was that hard enough?’

# # #

I slapped her ass again and again. Clearly, hurting me more than I hurt her, I slapped her beautiful, naked ass harder each time. I slapped her ass as hard as I could. I slapped her so hard that my hand hurt. Only, it was obvious to me that I couldn’t slap her ass hard enough to please her.

The harder that I slapped her shapely ass, the harder she wanted me to slap her naked ass, and the more proactive she was with her sexuality. My slaps were turning her on and making her into more of a sexual animal. Only, I was afraid of what sexual beast that I was unleashing.

If she was this turned on and proactive sexually now, what would she be like when she was sexually aroused? I imagined Gwen picking me up and throwing me against the wall, before she fucked me senseless while I was upside down. Suddenly, I thought of the Hulk, a female version of the green monster, mass of muscle.

Suddenly, I was afraid of Gwen, instead of being sexually excited by this sexy siren. Then, I thought of the movie with Uma Thurman, My Super Ex-Girlfriend. Indeed, she was a super, sexual woman intent on physical pain instead of sexual pleasure.

‘Help me, dear God,’ I thought. ‘Help me.’

I looked down at her while wondering how someone this beautiful, this shapely, this sexy, and this young could be such a demented, sexual animal.

‘Run for your life,’ I thought! ‘Save yourself! Gwen is sexually aroused! It’s every man for himself. No man is safe, when Gwen is sexually aroused. If only she knew what I was thinking, she’d beat my ass.’

# # #

Now that it was clearly obvious to me, I knew then that, no matter what I did, I was not the man for her. She needed a professional ass slapper. She needed someone who carried a big paddle to paddle her naked ass hard enough to give her the sexual pleasure with the physical pain that she not only wanted but also needed.

I could never sexually please her in the way that she wanted and needed for her to be sexually satisfied. I’m too old and too gentle to sexually satisfy her. I could never physically abuse her beautiful body in the way that she wanted and expected me to do what was required to make her cum.

Alas, I wasn’t man enough for her. She needed a Hun, Attila the Hun, or a red, bearded Viking named Erick the Red who was intent on rape and sexual debauchery. She needed someone like Black Beard, the pirate, who had been away at sea too long. She needed someone like Wilt the Stilt Chamberlain, the fornicator of 20,000 alleged women, or Gene Simmons of Kiss the sexual manipulator of countless backstage encounters. Much like Gwen, those men were never sexually satisfied.

Unfortunately, I was no Marquis de Sade or Don Juan. I was a mere mortal and Gwen needed the Devil himself. Only, Satan could satisfy the likes of her. Only, the Devil himself could slap her ass hard enough to sexually satisfy her.

Yes, that’s right, she needed Jack Nicholson as the Devil. As if Gwen was one of the witches in the Witches of Eastwick, I could see Jack now. With Gwen bent over his knee, I imagined him wailing the Hell out of her firm, round, naked ass, while making it red, raw.

# # #

Suddenly, never seeing it coming, Gwen turned into Lady Gwendolyn, the Dominatrix.

‘How’s that feel,’ I imagined the Devil asking Gwen?

Shocking me while putting the fear of God in me, I imagined what she’d say next.

‘Harder,’ I imagined her replying. ‘Slap my ass harder.’

I knew, no matter what I did, I couldn’t sexually satisfy her. She needed a 6’5″ professional athlete with a cock equaled to his ego to sexually satisfy her. Whereas, I was a lover looking for love, she was an animal looking for sex.

She would have preferred someone coming up behind her, lifting up her short skirt, pulling down her bikini panties, and bending her over a chair. Then, if she protested at being fucked up the ass, a few hard slaps would not only make her stop resisting but also would light her fire to a higher flame. Yet, against my moral value to slap a woman, even her if only to slap her ass, especially her ass, I couldn’t slap her hard enough to please her. Having never slapped a woman before, I couldn’t slap her now.

Then, she surprised me by what she said next.

“Pull my hair,” she said.

‘Pull your hair? But it looks so nice. Why muss it up,’ I thought? ‘I can’t pull your beautiful, long, red, lush hair. Your hair is too beautiful to pull.’

I looked at her with shocked disbelief.

‘Now, this is going too far,’ I thought. ‘What if I just gave you a noogie, I wanted to ask her, but suspecting that she’d think that I was making fun of her, I didn’t ask her if I could give her a noogie instead?’

Again, with her full of sexual surprises, she surprised me again with what she said next.

“Make me blow you.”

‘What? Make me blow you? Don’t you want to blow me,’ I thought and again, wanted to say but I didn’t? ‘Listen, you don’t have to blow me, if you don’t want to suck my cock.’ I thought.

“I like being forced,” she said. “Make me blow you,” she said again.

‘Make you blow me,’ I thought again? ‘I can’t do that? That’s too much like rape, I thought to myself while wondering what in the Hell she would ask me to do to her next.’

“Force me to get down on my knees and suck your cock,” she said, yet, again.

Clearly, she wanted to blow me.

“Okay,” I said gently pushing down on her shoulder.

# # #

This is bizarre. Never have I been with a woman who wanted me to force her to do sexual things to me.

“Slap me across my face.”

‘Slap you across your face? I can’t do that. I can’t hit a woman. I’d much rather kiss your beautiful face than slap your pretty face,’ I thought.

“Gwen, honey, I can’t slap you across your face,” I said hoping that she’d understand.

She made a face that I wouldn’t slap her face.

“I get off when I feel that I’m forced to sexually do something, and the sexually nastier, and the more painful, the better.”

I looked at her as if she was crazy.

“You do? Why? Wouldn’t you rather if I just went down on you and licked and fingered your pussy?”

# # #

Instead of turning me on, she was turning me off.

She slid her body up to me, reached out her tongue, and licked the entire side of my face like a lioness would before eating you.

‘Oh, yuck,’ I thought. ‘Why the Hell did she do that? That’s gross. This is too much. Now, the entire side of my face is wet. Fuck.’

“If you force me to,” she said whispering in my ear. “I’ll lick your ass, stick my tongue up your asshole, and make you cum with my finger.”

I thought of Colleen licking my ass, sticking her tongue in my asshole, and making me cum with her finger. I could go for Gwen doing that, as long as she brushed her teeth, used mouthwash, and washed her finger afterwards.

“Gees, Gwen, does your mother know you talk like that,” I asked with a laugh?

Nonetheless, at least we were talking.

“Actually, if you toss my salad, I’ll do anything that you want,” she said.

# # #

I’ll beat you upside your head with a hammer, if you ask me to, as long as you stick your long, sweet tongue up my ass, and make me cum by sticking your manicure finger in my asshole. I wanted to say that, but I didn’t say that either.

“Take me,” she whispered while licking the inside of my ear.

‘Take you? Take you where,’ I thought? ‘I’d rather just stay here with you and have sex with you, if you don’t mind.’

Then, she said something that I’ve never done and would never do. Not into anal sex, fucking a woman in her ass wasn’t on my sexual menu.

“Fuck me in my ass,” she said.

‘Fuck you in the ass,’ I thought? ‘Listen here, sister, I don’t fuck anybody up the ass. Sorry, Honey. I’m many things but I am not an anal type of guy. I’m not an ass fucker.’

Suddenly, slapping her harder on the ass was becoming more appealing.

# # #

Her sweet, soft voice that once gave me an instant erection now sent shivers down my spine. She made me wish I was 25 years younger. She made me wish my cock was harder, longer, and thicker. She made me wish that I was a sadomasochist and could give her the pain that she needed to sexually arouse her. She made me wish that I was into anal sex and could fuck her in her ass. Sadly, she made me see my demise.

‘But look, he looks so happy. He’s still smiling,’ I imagined the coroner saying.’

I imagined the police lieutenant looking to the coroner with his pad open and his pen at the ready.

‘And what was the cause of death,’ I imagined him asking the medical examiner?

I imagined the coroner and the police lieutenant looking from my dead body to Gwen’s dead body.

‘Well,’ I imagined the Coroner saying while staring at Gwen all bloodied, bruised, battered, and beaten. ‘Apparently, after he beat the snot out of her, she fucked him to death.’

I imagined the cop nodding his head.

‘That’s how I want to die,’ I imagined the Lieutenant saying. ‘She was so gorgeous. I would have loved to beat the piss out of her, too, before she fucked me to death.’

# # #

Suddenly, I remembered Colleen tossing my salad in the shower the time that the three of us, me, her, and Maureen had sex in the master bedroom shower. The feeling of Colleen’s tongue licking my ass and her finger fucking my asshole while I buried my cock deep inside Maureen felt like nothing that I have ever experienced. With motivation renewed, I grabbed some of Gwen’s long, lush, red hair in my hand and pulled it.

“Harder,” she said.

‘Oh, geez,’ I thought. ‘You’re going to be sorry when you’re older and suddenly have a bald spot.’

I pulled her hair harder while forcing her head down on my cock.

“Suck it, Bitch. Suck my cock. Blow me,” I said in my best Hell’s Angels biker voice.

Then, I half-heartedly slapped her face.

I couldn’t hit a woman, especially one so beautiful. I had trouble keeping a straight face and not laughing. Certainly, by not slapping her face as hard as I slapped her ass, I was ruining the sexual moment for her.

# # #

Then, she told me, not asked me, to squeeze her tits, and pull and twist her nipples. I was waiting for her to pull out a whip. I half expected her to pull handcuffs from out of her ass and cuff me to the bed.

‘What is next with this woman,’ I thought? ‘And where did she learn all of these things at such a young age? No doubt, she’s spending way too much time reading erotic literature and watching porn videos.’

I’ve never been with a woman who wanted her tits squeezed and her nipples pulled and twisted. Is this a normal thing to do with the younger generation? I mean, maybe, they wouldn’t be into squeezing tits so much if they were ever to have a mammogram. To me, it was a little weird to squeeze tits, although I did apply for a job as a mammogram technician, once, years ago, and they turned me down for obvious reasons.

To me, it was weird to do anything but to worship her naked breasts and nipples and, definitely, not abuse them. I wanted to suck her tits, caress her tits, and fondle her tits while sucking her erect nipples. I didn’t want to squeeze her tits, pull her nipples, and twist her nipples. Her request deflated my sexual sensitivity, as if she had taken her fingernails and scratched them down a blackboard or worse, kicked me in the balls and ruptured me.

The last thing that I wanted to do was squeeze her tits, and pull and twist her nipples. Yet, I complied with her wishes. If that is what it takes to light her fire, then who am I to question her sexual peccadilloes? I wanted to get her off and I did my best to do that.

# # #

I reached out my hands and squeezed her tits, first one, then the other, finally, I squeezed them both together.

“Harder,” she said when I squeezed her tits.

‘Harder,’ I thought?

Again, I squeezed her tits as I fucked her pussy.

“Harder,” she said again.

I looked at her as if she was crazy and as far as I was concerned, she was insane.

“Harder? I can’t squeeze them any harder, Gwen. I have a bit of Arthritis in my hands,” I said.

Between slapping her ass, slapping her face, pulling her hair, and squeezing her tits, my hands hurt like Hell. I looked at my hands and they were already swollen.

It appeared that, just as I couldn’t slap her ass and/or her face hard enough to sexually please her, I was unable to squeeze her tits hard enough to sexually please her either. She made me want to run down the cellar stairs and get the vise grips. Inserting her naked breasts in the vice grips, I envisioned myself turning the handle on the vise grips.

‘How’s that? Are your flat as a pancake tits squeezed hard enough for you now, I imagined asking her?

‘Harder,’ I imagined her saying. ‘Squeeze my tits harder.’

# # #

‘What the fuck? Harder,’ I thought? ‘I can’t squeeze her beautiful breasts any harder. What if you lay out in the driveway topless and I drive my car over your tits,’ I wanted to ask her but I didn’t ask her that either?

Damn, this was not what I had envisioned when she told me to take her to bed. I envisioned making sweet, gentle, albeit passionate love to her. Only, she wasn’t into that. Sweet and gentle was oxymoronic when it came to having sex with Lady Gwendolyn, my evil Dominatrix.

She knew what she wanted and she wanted it rough and wild. With someone as beautiful as was she, who’d have thought that she was a sexual animal who was into pain as much as she was into sex? To look at her I never would have thought that she was Lady Gwendolyn, the Dominatrix from Hell.

I envisioned a romantic liaison. I envisioned falling in love with her. I envisioned her being sweet, sweeter than her sister, perhaps, because she was younger. I envisioned her being innocent. I envisioned her telling me to be gentle with her because this was her first time.

Certainly, and unfortunately, this rough sex is not any kind of sex that sexually excited me. I came from a generation where we had to beg for a blowjob, and were lucky if we received a hand job, and that was from the woman we ended up marrying. Gwen was resistant to everything that worked with Maureen. I felt that I was at a loss to sexually satisfy Gwen.

I didn’t know how to treat her. I didn’t know how to sexually arouse her and make her cum. She made me feel inadequate. She made me feel that she wouldn’t be sexually satisfied unless I treated her like a whore, make her fear me, and beat her within an inch of her life. Treating my beloved Maureen’s sister like she was a whore was so against how I felt about women. I’m a lover of women and not an abuser of women.

Every time I tried talking dirty to her, she rebuffed my sexual verbiage. Forget about pillow talk, she didn’t want to hear me talking dirty to her. She didn’t want to hear my voice. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted action, sexual action, and not words. She wanted me to hurt her while fucking her.

“Shut up and fuck me,” she said slapping my ass harder than I slapped her ass.

Geez, that fucking hurt, I wanted to say, but I didn’t.

“What the Hell is wrong with you,” I asked her while rubbing my naked ass?

To be continued…