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Marriage Counseling – Part 1

Categories Fiction, Anal, Extreme, BDSM

Author: itsnotmeitsyou

Published: 30 October 2018

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Every time I looked into her eyes I saw that hunger, that need for humiliation and that longing for an insane extasy that can only come from walking that narrow line between pain and pleasure.

Sara had not always been like this… this extreme and I new her lust for more had outgrown mine. We both new that.

And yet I could not let her go. I had to see were she was going, what she would end up doing next. Just thinking about it filled me with a raging, jealousy-spiked high. She was my drug and I just had to have that next fix.

So here I was, lying next my passed-out slave of a wife, that exhausted ball of filth, covered in flaky streaks of cum, blackening bruises, scaby bitemarks and swollen welts. How she kept getting off of that was beyond me.

No matter how hard I kept pushing her I can’t seem to find her limit and I knew I had to if I wanted her to stay. I had to keep this going but I was fast running out of ideas. This wasn’t even the first gangbang this week. She took them all on, invited them all in, let them have there way with her and then just bagged those strangers for more.

Oh, but how I loved here, even now! Especially now. We were high school sweethearts, married when we were 20 and have been now for almost 10 years. She was still pretty, but our depraved acts had taken their toll her. Her F-cups sagged well beyond her years and the stretchmarks on their base made it clear just why that was. Her pussy seemed to be permanently gaping, like a physical manifestation of the unsatisfiable hole it was. Likewise, her stretched labia seemed a perfect fit to cover it up. Superficially. The light tone of her ivory skin masked the scars she had collected. At least to a casual observer. But to anyone who looked closer they told the story of a dark abyss looming just below the surface. I loved every bit of her, every nook and cranny, every piercing and every tattoo. Especially that tattoo. The one on the underside of her left breast. My name. A gift from her to me on our weeding day: “As long as I carry your name on my skin I shall be your slave and you shall be my master.”, she had vowed in the heat of an unforgettable night.

I was rock hard now so I got up, pulled down my pants and started stocking my dick to the scene in front of me. The stained sheets and the smell of old cum and rancid sweat alone were enough to tell that story. Leaned forward, I grabbed her limp body by the thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed, were I caressed her legs, moving my hands upwards until I reached her ankles. I tightened my grip and started spreading her legs. With Sara on her back I now had an unobstructed view of her pussy. I paused for a second; hypnotized by that oozing, gaping hole, that still seemed to be full of last night’s cum. Open like that another aroma hit me. Strong and not unlike a chlorinated swimming pool. I took a deep breath and dove in. My weight now on top of Sara while still holding on to her ankles, spreading them apart as far as I could. With that one single push I buried my 9 inches to the hilt in her excoriated pussy. And was sorely disappointed.

“Hey Honey!”, a sleepy Sara mumbled while rubbing some dried jizz out of her eyes, “what a nice surprise! I almost though I had finally lost you, taken it too far… you know since you didn’t so much as touch me yesterday… and then you were just gone. You missed most of the action.” I could hear the genuine sorrow in her voice. Only now I noticed the tear streaks running through here cum-blasted face like she was wearing cheap makeup.

“We are good. I just had to take care of some things. You know I love you!”, I managed to stumble.

“You don’t look like we are good.”, Sara said while studying me intently.

She must have noticed my disappointment. “It’s not like that.”, I replied with a shy chuckle. “Its just… well… how do I put this delicately? But Jesus Christ, your pussy is loose!”

“That’s it?” She burst into an obscene laughter, visibly clearing her face of all the worries and fears. “Well, you missed a pretty rough fisting session at the end of last night. I thing my poor little pond will need a while longer to recover, sorry.” With a smirk and something dark awakening again in the back of her eyes, she continued: “You need to punish me for that. Why don’t you try my ass instead? That is swollen so badly I bet you would need to push hard just to get a single finger in there. It’ll feel like raping a virgin!” While talking she had started rubbing her clit and now she was already moaning, quivering with anticipation. I was a bit dumbstruck at first, but now I scanned the room for a bottle of lube while slowly withdrawing from her overstretched pussy.

Either she saw that out of the corner of her eyes or she just guessed my intentions: “No lub. No stopping. No mercy. Fuck me and HARD!”

If she wanted it that way, she would get it that way. I withdrew a half step and then all but launched at her. My penis, striking true, priced her cramped and inflamed sphincter. The impact shocked Sara and no amount of arousal could buffer that first moment of torment. She shrieked in pain while trying to wiggle backwards from that intrusion, but the weight of my body now back on top of her pinned her firmly in place. I saw her eyes water, noticed tears forming in the corner. Two, three seconds and I was already rethinking this. And then her words hit me again: “No lub. No stopping. No mercy. Fuck me and HARD!”, and I realized – unlike any other time this wasn’t for her to get off. This was Sara’s sick way of showing me just how much she loved me. I could not reject this.

I pulled out abruptly and completely just to hammer back in. Slower at first, I started ramping up in speed gradually. This was a tight fit after all and easy to miss besides. By this time Sara’s shrieks had turned into howls and she was crying now in earnest. She had given up on stimulating her clit and was instead burying her nails into the wooden bedframe. Her legs were starting to shake but this time not from an approaching orgasm but rather from the intense pain that came with the ever-increasing speed of my humps.

This was insane, wrong, sick – but by god did it feel good. Her convulsing rectum squeezed so tight onto every inch of my cock that each time I dove into here I feared I would not be able to pull back out again. Still slower than usual I had by now picked up a decent pace and I was fast approaching what I presumed to be a mind-blowing orgasm. By then we had been at it for about then minutes and while it still had to be hell for Sara at least the initial shock had worn off and that gave her back some control over her body. She let go of the bedframe to grab a tit with each hand and then proceeded to mesh, pinch and dig into her own flesh like some mad women on drugs. It did not take long for some of the previously received bruises and bitemarks to start bleeding.

I could not believe my eyes. Damn that girl. I bent down to kiss Sara, which wasn’t an easy task at first. I pressed my mouth against hers and then began forcing my tongue in between sobs and muffled cries. Eventually she started kissing me back, wild sloppy and still a little bit shaky.

Wilder now and as hard as I could I slammed into her. My balls smacking against her ass cheeks. Each pull and each push came with a wet farting sound and my cock was by now covered in a reddening pinkish cream form what I presumed to be old cum mixed with fresh blood. Another five minutes and then I just couldn’t hold on anymore. One last push as deep as I could was meet by Sara with a scream of pain while she actively constricted her sphincter as hard as she could. And then I collapsed on top of her; exhausted and dripping with sweat, while she, with clenched teeth, worked her pelvis in rhythm with each of my shudders; milking me to the last drop.

I was in heaven. High on “Sara”. In a state of utter relaxation, I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to. Sara took me in a warm embrace and gently rolled me onto my back. Still connected she lay on top of me. We stayed like that for a long while. Savoring this moment.

I had almost dosed of when I felt my limp cock slip out of her. When I opened my eyes, I saw Sara slowly lifting herself of me and when I finally popped free a gush of red streaked cum followed my shaft. Her tears had dried by now but her melted mask of cum looked worse than bevor, if such a thing was even possible. The cracks that came from her smug, satisfied smile didn’t help it much. “Are you ok?”, I asked.

“More then ok. You know… I think I love you, too! Thanks. For everything. I mean it. Most men would have left me by now.” She broke eye-contact to stare intently at my genitals like a rabid dog.

“Honey I think I need some rest, till I…” and that was a far as I got bevor she went down on me. “I need to taste this!”, she mumbled between sloppy sound of licking and sucking. “God, you must have really done a number on my poor little asshole.”, she continued. By then she had cleaned the base including my balls and her tongue was now working its way up my hardening penis. She stopped at the tip to look up at me: “Its times like this I really wish I could rim myself.” She rolled back my foreskin to expose the pink cream that I had scraped out of her. “You saved the best for last!”, she chuckled and went back to work. There were now satisfied smacks and pleasurable moans of indulgence coming from her, while I, to my own surprise, was rock hard again. “Perfect.”, with that she straightened, positioned her ass above my shaft and pushed down on it with her weight.

Just like that I found myself tormenting that abused hole of hers again. One elongated wet fart combined with a howl of pain and tears. Two or three seconds I was buried in there bevor she lifted herself off of my stained dick just so she could clean it up. Rinse and repeat; Again and again, at the same time working hard on her pussy and clit making unnatural squishy sound. Meanwhile I was staring at the ceiling, trying hard not to think about what she was doing to herself down there. Shrieks of pain followed animal grunts of pleasure, as I lost track of time. Faster and faster; louder and louder. Until they became indistinguishable in one last ear-shattering orgasm.

I looked down. And came.

Sara had, I had realized in that moment, not orgasmed from her clitoral stimulation but rather from impaling herself full force on my shaft, her hands firmly on her breasts, pinching her nipples hard. She was shaking as wave after wave rocked her, when our eyes meet: “You came with me?”, she asks and I node, unable to speak. “Wow.”, limply she collapsed on top of me.

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Marriage Counseling – Part 1

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