Laying Pipe Pt. 02
Editor’s note: this story contains scenes of rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, or non-consensual sex.
Beth crossed the dark guestroom and slapped me, snapping her hand across my left ear and cheek. I reeled away, half-falling to the bed. I caught her second swing, outlined, now, by the exterior lights.
“Beth!” I exclaimed and she stopped straining to strike me. “What the hell are you doing?”
Initially, she was silent, struggling to pull her arm from my hand. We both heard the low drone of the shower in the bathroom and she hissed at me, “You were mine.” I pushed her away and flipped the lightswitch by the veranda door. A lamp on either side of the bed flickered to life. In the low light of the guestroom, I knew how I would look, naked, muscular and hairy, cock still slick from congress with her daughter. Beth, a gorgeous brunette, was flush, her face red and the magnificent swell of her breasts heaving beneath a fitting tan top. Dark skinny jeans cupped her curves and legs, the outfit terminating functionally in dark tennis shoes
“You’re Tom’s.” I stated simply, laying a calming hand on the woman’s shoulder.
A flash in her eyes- she was honestly angry, “We have an arrangement. Lacey, obviously, isn’t a fucking part of it.”
Shit. They were open. She’d just been fucking around teasing me, before. Uh, until I put it to their daughter. “Beth, she’s an adult, we had some fun, there’s no reason to be tense, I’m just your friend.”
Oh, man, that was the wrong thing to say. Beth jerked, and snagged my wavering dick. Twisting sharply, she demanded, “How are you my friend? We trusted you as a neighbor, I -might- have wanted to screw you, and I catch you fucking my daughter? Is that what friends do?”
A moment after the sudden pain started, I wrapped a thick hand around Beth’s throat and pushed her onto the bed. Her hand tightened until I squeezed her neck and both of her hands flew to my grip. The hot surge of adrenaline had me hard, and I momentarily felt the coarse denim of Beth’s jeans beneath my cock. I was, now, choking a woman who had twisted my dick- after finding me nutting her daughter. What the fuck is my life?
I pressed Beth into the bedding and she made…the single horniest noise I’ve ever heard from a woman. Somewhere between a groan and a purr, she glared at me through slitted eyes. Her breathing was fast and straining. Her flushed cheeks and expression rattled a memory of a deeply submissive former partner. I suddenly suspected Beth had been out on the twilight veranda longer than her surging, violent response implied.
So, I did something insane. I didn’t release her throat, but I did wrench her jeans down with my free hand. They slipped down her wide hips easily, the top buttons of her fly had been undone beneath the edge of her shirt. Beneath a tiny, lacey, tan thong, which peeled over her perfectly fat ass as I pulled her dark skinny jeans to her knees. The weird declaration of ownership over me, the teasing, the disheveled jeans, and uncharacteristic transition to physical violence, the absurd intimacy of having sought to punish my statement by grabbing my cock- her body wavered between fury and lust and was utterly betrayed by the musk of her ardor and dripping mess of her bald pussy.
Wordlessly- thoughtlessly, really- I stepped to the soft, exposed curve of her ass and ran the stone column of my erection over her cleft and clit. Her breath caught, her hands on my arm holding her by the throat drove long, perfectly manicured nails into my skin. I twisted my other hand in the knot of garments I held at her calves, soles of her tennis shoes held heavenward, restraining her entirely except for her hands. I pressed her legs back until her naked thighs were against her cream shirt, and her sopping pussy and ass were hoisted between us.
Her eyes widened and I shifted her until my cock matched the entrance of her vulva. And, then, I pushed. Her body resisted, the membranes of her labia dragging harshly over the still-sticky skin of my cock, but I withdrew and pressed until the dampness of her own arousal slicked my passage, and I was slapping steadily into Beth.
She released her painful grip from my arm and covered her face, grunting softly with pleasure and frustration each time my fat rod bottomed out entirely. I didn’t just thrust, I hauled the mostly clothed woman to me as I drove and heaved her away as I withdrew. Her hairless, soaking cunt was, yet, unbelievably tight, gripping me obscenely as I used her roughly, soft ass and thighs rippled and bounced against the hairy muscles of my abdomen and groin.
Beth trembled abruptly, hands grabbing at my left forearm, again. Her eyes were clamped closed and face caught in an ecstatic rictus. I wondered, briefly, as her pelvic floor twisted even tighter around my intruding mass, if she was as sensitive as her daughter, post-orgasm.
I hugged her legs in my right arm and redoubled the pace. Her eyes opened wide and her mouth gaped in a ragged gasp. I ran my left hand up her Haramidere escort bayan neck, pressing a finger across her lips, shushing her with a meaningful tilt of my head towards the bathroom door, beyond which we could still hear Lacey showering. Then I twisted my fingers in her hair and began to slamfuck Beth in earnest.
In rough, rapid thrusts, I tried to put a seam across where I folded her legs against her chest, and a permanent claim to a gape in her cunt. The bed protested, but I ignored it’s complaints as I ignored Beth’s sharp grapple that slowly raised painful furrows across my back and up my shoulders. Sweat beaded across my body, Beth’s wetness dripped off my balls. Her eyes were tightly shut, again, head twisted back by my fist in her brown locks. Her legs flailed and spasmed incessantly in my embrace, and I hunched tighter to avoid the sweep of her tennis shoes. Her pussy clenched and flexed in time with her panting breaths. My own breathing was hot at her throat. Purposefully, I drove myself on until the thought that I hadn’t gotten to see those massive tits swinging as I rode her occured to me, and abruptly I could take no more, and was cumming, exhaling in restrained groans, back arching, and pouring into the woman beneath me.
I released my hold on the hard-breathing milf’s hair and momentarily collapsed. I felt fluid dripping between us. I hauled myself back upright, proud post slipping from her depths. I raised her slightly off the bed, watching the tremble in her legs and quiver of her holes slow and relax. The bedspread at the corner I had fucked her on was dark and our mix flowed freely down her tawny ass to join the stain. The effluence from her orifice subsided and I released her legs, dropping her on her side. Bleary eyed, she, nonetheless, reached down with the green and gold silk robe, still half twisted in her left hand, and wiped resolutely at her abused sex while carefully sitting up on the edge of the bed.
I pulled my underwear and jeans on and tossed my cum-stained shirt onto the bed, deciding the bedspread was just going in the laundry, too. I knelt between Beth’s spread knees, legs still trapped in the twisted knot of her jeans and panties. I cleaned stray droplets of sweat and cum from her bare thighs with a clean corner of the bedspread before deciding getting her jeans up was a lost cause and slipping her shoes, pants and undergarment gently off. Keen awareness of the importance of aftercare… and post-nut clarity of exactly how roughly I had handled her was suddenly forefront in my mind. Her eyes avoided mine, and she pointed to her pants as I ran the blanket one last time up her thighs. “My phone?” I produced it from her back pocket and handed the chrome and glass sliver to her. Immediately, she began sending a text.
Concluding the silently generated communication, she stood, and I followed suit, handing over her garments. Her body was close, her breasts just brushing my chest, but I was much taller, so even standing straight and proud, she didn’t look me in the eyes. She caught sight of herself in the mirror: hair stringy with sweat, makeup a smudged ruin, mostly naked, for good measure. “Another bathroom, John? I don’t think I want to speak with Lacey, now.”
The other guest room on the main floor was pretty bare bones, mostly used when I had a crowd passing through. “Is the master alright?”
“Master would be fine.” The guest shower turned off. I led her quickly to the master bedroom, dominated by a dark four poster bed, and dimly lit by decorative sconces. Her phone chirped. As she addressed the message I turned on the light in the master bath and dressed in a clean shirt. Returning to the guest room, I stripped the bedspread and stuffed it, and my shirt, in a hamper. I found a similar, clean bedspread in the linen closet and made the bed.
Glancing around, I found nothing particularly obvious to expose any of the evening’s goings on, and slipped to the kitchen. I drew a couple handfuls of cold water at the sink and splashed my face, silently seeking absolution from any of this madness. Toweling the moisture from my hands, I stepped to the open veranda door and spotted my coffee cup on the patio table. Blessed alcohol and caffeine could fix this. They can fix anything. I drank the bitter mixture in one gulp, making a face.
Stone cold, and not better for it.
I turned back to face the open doors of my house, and, eventually, settled into the patio chair I had occupied earlier. There were crickets chirping in the hedges and grass; the night was still and overcast, now, holding on to a bit of the day’s warmth.
The guest room lights blinked off, and the thin blonde woman in a red halter top and cutoffs emerged, the door quietly clicking closed behind her. Guilty, sly smile on her pretty face, she crossed to where I sat.
“That was awkward.” She rocked on her heels briefly, coltish legs flexing. “Mom seems kinda mad. Did she say anything to you?”
I grinned, “She slapped the shit out Escort İkitelli of me and asked to use a different bathroom.”
I waved her off, “She was mad.”
The righteous indignation that she had displayed earlier flared a bit and the slender girl stood a little straighter, “It’s none of her business what I do or who I do them with.”
I shrugged, “I’ve been here since my grandparents passed, and they were their neighbors for decades before that. There’s a bit of an expectation, as friendly as we are, that I was safe from being a creepy, old man around their little girl.”
Lacey leaned close, “Little girl? I think I remember distinctly being the pursuer, old man.” She slid me a mostly chaste kiss and half-turned away. “We’ll be more discreet next time. Maybe don’t leave the door open?”
“Next time?” The vision of this young woman, a decade and a half younger than me, flashed in my mind, and was subsumed by the other, a decade and a half older than me, each with my hairy knuckles at their throat and ecstasy on their faces. I could feel a blush rising.
“You weren’t bad, old man.” a last bright smile and she vanished into the shadows of the yard.
I didn’t linger long. I took up the empty coffee cup and entered the kitchen, closing, and locking that door. I thought to just wait Beth out. The steak in my fridge called to me and my stomach complained. I checked my own phone where it was charging on the rolltop in the butler’s pantry.
Three unread texts. One from Beth. It read, “Come back to the bedroom, please.”
So, I did. Beth was on a black leather dressing bench at the foot of the bed, facing the open master bathroom door, typing away at her phone and still half-dressed. Her pants, and panties were loosely folded atop her shoes by her feet. She’d removed the tiny scraps of cotton that passed for socks, too. She looked calm as she glanced up from her phone at my approach. She turned back to whatever she was typing and spread her toes out in the thick pile of the carpet. I stopped two paces away, a tall shadow in my own bedroom, wondering where this strange ride would stop.
I started to ask if I could get her a drink, but stopped before the first syllable escaped. This was another game of control, from her. She was controlling the space by settling in, ignoring me, and ignoring the state I left her in. I stepped uncontestable close, my shadow cast from the bathroom light darkening her form entirely, and while my first impulse was to touch her hand holding her phone, instead, caressed the tangled hair at her right temple.
She stopped breathing, stopped typing, and closed her eyes as I pushed stray brown locks behind her ear and softly spoke, “You haven’t showered.” She didn’t lean into my hand like a lover’s caress, but instead cooly endured the touch. When I withdrew, her eyes opened and she stood, discarding the phone to the bench but still not meeting my eyes. Her breath hitched gently. “Your family will be waiting. Tom mentioned dinner plans.”
There was something strange in the green eyes that turned up to meet mine, “I told Lacey I would talk to her about… it, tomorrow. I had already planned with Tom to skip dinner unless I texted him when I came over here. I assumed we would find an arrangement.”
Oh. OH. The woman was all twists. Guess that explained the presence of that silk bathrobe, tonight. I laid a hand on her hip, half my fingers on the edge of the soft tan fabric of her top, the others on her naked flesh. “What arrangement were you seeking, Beth?”
She shivered beneath my hand, “Not… that. That was intense. When I found you with Lacey… with her where I wanted to be, I couldn’t help but watch a little.” She stepped to the side, not away, but out from my shadow. Her voice calmed, “It’s hardly the first time I’ve caught one of my daughters being… intimate.” A small huffed laugh, “Lacey, especially- but it was the first time I’ve found them with someone I wanted as a lover. So, I was turned on, a little… a lot… and hurt.”
Beth laid a hand over mine, and guided it softly upwards to her waste and squeezed herself with my larger grip. “And, then, you took me…” she said, her voice falling low.
God, help me, I was ready to, again.
Her free hand pressed against my chest, she craned her head to whisper to me, “I felt everything you did to me and wanted to say no, but couldn’t between your hand on my throat and your cock beating the wind out of me. So, I just came instead.” her fingers twisted in my belt loops, and she dragged the garment slowly, side to side over my struggling erection. “I haven’t felt sex like that in years and I want more.”
I grunted to cover a growing moan and clear my throat. “Tom?”
“Tom’s the love of my life… but not interested much. He gets off on the stories… and has participated in a few memories, but after the girls were all born I wanted sex twice a day and he would rather have a cocktail and a nap.” Beth undid my fly and drew my Çapa escort stiffening cock from my boxerbriefs. “I’d appreciate if you kept things normal.”
Normal? “What’s your normal?”
“You know, you’re friends, none of this needs to come up-“
“No, I mean, you’re pursuing pretty serious kink if you’re asking me for repeats of tonight.” The idea of a consensual non-consent inclusive relationship with my older neighbor’s wife was not how I thought this would turn out. My cock was steel in her soft hands. Her caresses were unstructured, her focus on our conversation.
“I had friends into kinkier things I used to play with- they were members of our dinner club. Moved or uninterested or just isolated from the world until the pandemic passes.”
My focus was entirely on the parts of the woman contacting my dick and the clerical necessity of the remaining details was abruptly interfering. “Safeword?”
“Oh, yes, I have a great one,” she whispered it in my ear. Now, excited by the context of my question, she became a positive chatterbox, her voice soft and conspiritorial, “I love a little bondage, spanking, choking, fucking in public-“
Right, the basic fun stuff, things your dinner club swinger friends get up to: I could work with that. I took her hands in mine, squeezing her caresses into steady strokes. “If I grab you while you’re shopping for groceries and fuck you in the parking garage?”
Her eyes slitted and she jerked me steadily, “Are you going to do that?”
“If I pin you against the shower wall and fuck your ass until you can’t stand?” I pulled her close and pawed at her ass. Slowly, I worked a finger against her knot without pressing in, just teasing the twist of tissue.
She bit her lower lip and sighed, “Are you going to fuck my ass…”daddy” doesn’t seem…”
I took Beth by the shoulders and guided her back to where she had been sitting, gently pushing her back down to the dressing bench. I flexed and my cock gently bobbed before her face. I could feel her breath along its length. “No, I think “daddy” would be just fine. Hands on your knees.” She gave a momentary, insatiably wicked grin before I was pressing closer to her face. Her lips parted into an accommodating “O” and shen leaned forward primly. I pressed the fat head of my cock between her lips, the flicker of her tongue and heat of her mouth luring me forward.
I pumped gently, just the glans popping in and out from the soft curl of Beth’s hungry mouth. She slowly leaned forward, until I couldn’t stand the passivity and my hands twisted again in her long brunette curls. I drew her to me, and away, slowly fucking her face into my rigid form. She grunted at the depth of my pull and gasped when I drew away from her. Her green eyes were locked on the violating shape, slathered in her spit, half lidded and fervent. I stood away and gently lifted at her shoulders, “Stand.”
My spittle dampened cock ground against her sweater covered stomach, but I drew that up and over her head. She had a tan bra on, structurally significant and worthy of the prize it enshrined. I held her to my chest and unbuckled the troika of latches. Peeling the soft garment away, I leaned low, biting and nibbling her gorgeous tits. She grunted and pumped harshly at my sopping cock. I turned her, cupping her massive breasts and driving her over the bench. She collapsed forward, the cleft of her ass soft around my hard cock.
Beth pushed herself up and hoisted herself to a steady presentation, and I bowed to the warmth of her womanhood. I could taste my own cum, still weeping from the slick lips of her vulva. I found her clit with my tongue and slipped fingers into her, first a knuckle, and then a few, and then I pressed into the hot, dark twist of her ass, always lingering on the tight, erective pearl, and knowing I was going to take more and more and more. Her orgasm was shuddering and gasping, her face against the foot of my bed, her body collapsing over the leather bench. I pulled my hands from her constricting heat, and kissed the pulsing wink of her ass. Her hands filled the void between her legs, petting at her burning sex.
I crossed to a bedside table and flipped a lightswitch. The hard breathing form at the base of my bed was haloed in bright lights, and reflected in the massive mirrors overhead and at the headboard. I plucked a bottle of lube from the table’s drawer. Beth was blinking against the bright lights, eyes unfocused as she found the vision of herself, naked, and bent at the foot of my bed, chest and cheeks flushed. I saw her watch the reflected length of my cock cross the mirror and square up behind her gasping body. Her eyes closed and she leaned her head into the blankets, the arch of her back sagging and turning her hips graciously towards me.
“I’m going to fuck your ass, Beth.” I watched her face in the mirror. She pressed back, the delicate flesh of her bald cunt slick against my dick.
“Just put it in my pussy, you’re so big, just fuck me.”
I grabbed her hand and filled it with lube. “I’m going to fuck your ass, Beth.” I slipped my cock into her slippery fingers, “I haven’t even kissed you but I’ll have my dick in all of your slutty holes.” She moaned, her hand closed around my cock and pumped, smearing the lube wildly. “Do you like that, Beth? Do you like being a slut to a big cock?”