After me ex-wife molests our son, turn about seems appropriate.
I spent the weekend wondering how to best take advantage of the recent discovery that my ex-wife was having sex with our 12 year old son. I watched the video I had captured numerous times, unable to keep from masturbating each time. It was undeniably something that should never have happened, but unmistakably exciting to watch.
I tried to rationalize why I just stood by the window and watched Beth molest our son. I knew how wrong it was, but I guess the driving factor was the incredible leverage I was being provided. Thoughts of getting sole custody, eliminating child support payments, and every other pain in the ass thing I had to deal with over the years filled my mind. But, at the end of the day, what I finally decided I wanted more than anything was my ex-wife. I wanted to fuck her one more time.
Make no mistake, she was a huge bitch. Constantly complaining, being hypocritical in every action over the years. But, that was exactly the reason for wanting to have sex with her. To debase her, make her realize that she was still the submissive woman that used to pull her legs back while we had sex. And, I had images of getting away with so much more with the power of the tape documenting her molestations of a 12 year old.
Yet, Beth was a beautiful woman. 39 years old, breast full and firm for breast feeding, with soft blue eyes and blonde hair. She stood just over 5’8” with the pale face of a princess, carrying herself with the pride that comes from beauty. Her body had the natural curves that accentuated beauty, proportioned perfectly between long legs and slender hips about a round ass. It was the only reason I married her.
So, on Monday morning, when I was certain the kids were gone and at school, I got in my car and drove over to her house – my old house. I remembered the nights getting ready for bed, her sitting on the toilet, having me sit on her lap while she had a “bunny poop.” She would innocently let me wipe her, trying to make very moment a tender moment. And, when it was my turn, she would hold my penis between my legs, making sure I didn’t “splish”, as she called it.
Yet, our marriage was doomed to fail. Her beauty brought with it a bossy, her way or the hi-way attitude. I did my best to be patient, but eventually, I would lose my patience and we would yell it out. Until, one night, she grabbed the kids and left to stay with her mom’s. Less than a year later, she had her old boyfriend from High School living with her. Our divorce wasn’t even close to final, and she was inviting a new man into her house.
Annoyed at the history between us, upset about what I saw, but excited about what it meant, I got out of the car and walked to her front door in a conflicted state of mind. I wanted to be upset, but I was truly happy. The tables had officially turned. The bitch was mine.
I knocked on her door, instinctively trying to make it a quiet knock since her 1 year old Megan was asleep more than half of the time when I would stop by. I waited quietly, anxious, excited for the door to open. There was no answer. So, I knocked a bit louder, being forceful, making sure the sound could travel to the basement. As I stared at the door, listening for any sound, I heard the lock turn and the door opened slightly.
Beth stood there in her usual soft, motherly knit dress of all lack. It hugged her body, providing a sexy yet practical look. She had clearly showered in the morning, her hair full of the bounce that comes from a hair drying. Her face was slightly made up, but still letting her natural beauty shine through. As she looked at me with a questioning face, I just stood there, staring, lost in her beauty, wondering what to say. I couldn’t help glance at her large cleavage, breasts held high by her nursing bra. Her brow scowled.
“Peter. What do you want?”
My mind focused, once again realizing why I was at my ex wife’s house.
“Beth. We need to talk. Can I come in?”
Her head pulled back, almost shocked at the request.
“What? Why? Can’t we just talk here? Megan is sleeping.”
It was her way of saying that she didn’t want me inside, alone with her. I had rarely been in the house since the divorce, and she liked it that way.
“Really, I think it’s best if we talk inside.”
Now, Beth was just plain annoyed.
“What do we need to talk about? We can do it here, or it must not be that important.”
I paused, wondering how to let the hammer drop. Beth was closing the door behind her, as if reinforcing that there was no way in hell I was getting inside. I decided I needed to start turning the screws.
“Alright, fine. We can talk here. It’s about Tom.”
Beth’s brows furrowed, trying to think about what she could possibly have to talk with me about Tom. She generally was the one giving the lectures, letting me know how things are, and how they are going to be.
“Well, what about him? He’s fine. What’s there to talk about?”
Beth crossed her arms, challenging me to bring something up that warranted her attention.
“I’m not sure about that, after what I saw Friday night.”
Beth’s body tensed up, shuddering. Her eyes opened, surprised at the remark, wondering to herself what I might mean. Her body language was instantly defensive. Her response was stumbling.
“Where… I mean, what… what was it?”
I could tell she was getting nervous, acting as she did when caught in a lie.
“I think you know what I mean.”
Slowly getting her composure, Beth returned to her defiant tone.
“No, I don’t know what you mean.”
I smiled slightly, letting out a brief chuckle.
“Well, do you want me to get graphic?”
Staring at me with an intensity that I remembered while she sat across from me at our divorce mediation, Beth was not going to even remotely acknowledge that I could pose any threat to her.
“Please. Go ahead.”
Letting out a sigh, I threw it all on the table.
“Well, I watched you molest Tom.”
Beth instinctively laughed, her natural defenses appalled at such an accusation. She did a good job playing it off.
“Jesus Christ, Peter. What the hell has gotten into you? Get the hell out of here. You disgust me.”
Quickly, she turned away from me, opening the door and letting herself back inside. I stared at her ass, trying to imagine what it looked like. I couldn’t help myself. As the door was about to shut, I put down my trump card.
“Would you like to watch the video?”
Instantly, Beth froze. She could dismiss my accusations, but she couldn’t ignore what me having a video might mean. That words could be thrown out to be hollow accusations of a jealous ex-husband, but a video… That couldn’t be ignored. She turned to look at me, eyes now concerned.
I grabbed my phone, searching for the recording on it. Pulling it up on the screen, I held it out to her. She looked at the image, slowly walking towards it. Cautiously, she took it.
Pressing play, her eyes widened. She could see inside her basement, watching as she masturbated her son on the couch. Instantly she threw the phone onto the ground, smashing it well beyond repair. She started yelling at me, her instinctive response for everything.
“What the fuck! You son of a bitch recorded that?”
She was smashing the phone with her foot, trying to crush any evidence. I just smiled inside, knowing that I had already downloaded it at home Her yelling continued.
“God damn you, you son of a bitch. There’s your fucking video, asshole.”
I let her calm herself down, until she just started crying, realizing that there was nothing she could do. Beth slowly stumbled into the house, dazed, not sure what to say. Falling on the stairs, she put her head in her hands, weeping in her embarrassment.
With the door open, I walked in and shut it. Beth paid no attention to me, crying into her hands.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Please. It’s just that Steve… Oh….”
Somehow, she was blaming her molestations on her husband. Who knows what the issues were. Perhaps he was never around. Perhaps he was cheating on her. I didn’t care. I almost felt bad for her, watching her break down at the base of the stairs. Slowing down her cries, but not looking at me, Beth sighed heavily.
“I suppose you made copies.”
Her mind was getting itself back in order.
“Yes, I have a couple.”
Eyes red, resigned to the fact she was at my mercy, she looked up at me.
“So, what are you going to do. Are you going to the courts?”
Beth knew the potential of me revealing the tape. But, that would take the power away from me and put it in their hands. I wasn’t going to let that happen.
“No. I won’t.”
Beth’s eyes lit up, astonished at my statement.
“Really? Oh, Peter. I swear, it won’t… I’ll never…”
She was desperate in her attempts to make me realize it would never happen again.
“Beth, I know. But, I just want one thing.”
Still looking at me with her wide doe eyes, she looked desperate.
“Anything. Please, I mean it. I’m so sorry…”
I looked at her, more attractive than ever in her desperation. I was more ready than ever to make my move.
“I’d like to, well… To enjoy you, one more time..”
Beth froze. Her eyes stopped in their socket, looking at me. Her breath was trapped in her lungs. She knew exactly what I was asking. Beth was no longer showing any emotion. Rather, she almost looked resigned to anything that might happen. Releasing her breath, sighing deeply, with her eyes now closed, she slouched.
Beth was saying nothing. We had made love hundreds of times in our life, but having turned her love of me into disgust, it was not something on the top 10 list of activities she wanted to participate in. She knew it was better than going to jail, but her natural disgust couldn’t be controlled.
Softly, Beth looked at me. “Peter, please. I’m married.”
I wasn’t going to be swayed. It was just her natural answer. She already knew that it didn’t matter if she was married. Hell, she was technically having sex with her husband while we were married.
“Beth, just this once.”
I stared at her chest, heaving up and down, imagining nipples that lay beneath. I could sense I was just moments away. Beth sensed it also, standing up, slowly realizing that she was trapped. Without saying a word, looking at me with a slight pause, a blank look on her face, she stood up.
“Fine. Just this once.”
She stood there, trying to process what was about to happen. I didn’t even know what the order of events would be. But, as she turned to go up the stairs, a fantasy of mine popped into my mind.
“Wait. In the dining room.”
Beth turned, confused. “What, why?”
“Just come with me.”
She had demanded that, during the divorce, she keep the dining room table that we found at an antique dealer. I don’t know what it popped into my mind, but as I walked up to it, the kinky image was taking shape.
Beth walked in behind me. “We are not doing it on the table.”
She knew me pretty well, but I guess not that well. I didn’t want to do it on the table.
“Beth, not on the table. I just want you to put your hands on it.”
Beth was still not having it. “No way. Lets just go upstairs. This is rhidiculous.”
I was not going to be swayed. “Listen Beth, it’s my way, or the courts way. What do you want?”
With the look of a trapped lion, she put her hands on the table. “Fine.”
I looked at her, back slightly arched, breasts thrust forward, butt in the air. It was perfect.
“Now, leave them there.”
I walked behind her, putting my hand on her back. Beth shuttered at the touch, almost revolted by it. I didn’t care, reaching around her sides, feeling the large swell of her breasts. I move my mouth into her soft, blonde hair, inhaling her beauty.
“Beth, you smell so good.”
I looked out the back window, watching the people in the distance as I began to fondle her breasts from behind. My hands ran into her cleavage, felling her silky skin. Then, I forced them into her chest, pushing down the fabric of her dress, letting them hang down in all of their glory. Beth brought her hands up.
“Jesus, Peter. Come on….”
I pulled her hands back down to the table. “Don’t lift them off.”
I lifted her heavy breasts in my hand, looking over her shoulder as my body pushed into her. Her nipples were dark and proud, standing upright on her chest. I pulled on them, feeling the hard skin in the middle of her nipple from months of breastfeeding. Beth moved her head to the side, sickened from my touches.
Letting her tits fall free, I slid my body lover, kissing the soft black fabric at the small of her back. Lower still I went, kissing the soft globes of her ass, hidden behind her dress. Gently, I began to pull up her dress, bunching it at the bottom of her back, slowly exposing her thighs. I kissed the pale skin, meant for no man other than her husband.
Higher still I lifted until the dress slid over her ass, revealing a large white pair of her famous “granny panties.” I pushed my hands into her butt, feeling the swells, looking at the dimples above each cheek.
“Beth, your ass is so soft…”
Beth wanted nothing to do with this. “Peter, please….. Can we just go upstairs.”
“In a moment.” I told myself. Grabbing the top of her panties, I rolled them off of her ass, dragging them down to the ground. And as I did, I stared at the biological center of my ex wife.
She sighed at the exposure. “Christ.”
Her vagina ballooned out at me like the red ass of a monkey. Her anus was surrounded by dark hairs, breathing like a fish. I opened her cheeks, spreading her wide, and just moved in, unable to control myself. My mouth smothered her asshole, tasting the pucker of the 39 year old Speech Pathologist.
Beth jolted upright. “What the fuck, Peter.”
She moved away, putting her breasts back in her dress. I was happy enough with the initial treat, not getting the full thrill I wanted. But, it was a start.
“Fine, let’s go upstairs.” I didn’t want to push it too early.
Beth purposefully moved through the living room and walked up the stairs. I found myself in a state of déjà vu, remembering the familiar scene from our years of marriage. Beth’s ass casually rocking back and forth, up the stairs, inviting me up for a love making session. But this time, love wouldn’t have anything to do with it.
I looked around in awe that I was once again in the house I remodeled for her. I stood alone in the hallway, almost thinking that we were still married. Even the carpet was unchanged years later. I could sense myself excitement growing, falling into my natural sexual fever that came when I would watch her invite me up the stairs with her butt, several times completely naked with her trademark dimples like small vaginas on the small of her back.
Slowly, I followed up the stairs, remembering my natural pattern of steps. The subtle movements needed to ensure the stairs didn’t creak. I admired the pictures on her wall, some of the kids, some of herself with Steve. I was clearly invading her inner sanctum.
I reached the top, turning to the left. Our room – her room – was down and to the left. I walked past a closed door, figuring Megan was in the room that I once used as an office. Quietly I continued, walking passed Tom’s room, seeing the soft pastel blue of Sarah’s. Finally, at the end of the hall, I stopped, looking at Beth as she sat on the end of her king bed. She just sat there, staring into space.
As though prevented by an invisible force field, I stood outside of her room, not recognizing the Ikea furniture carefully placed everywhere. It was almost like a showroom, perfectly arranged. Beth sensed my presence, looking at me, subconsciously inviting me in. Perhaps recognizing, deep inside, that it was an appropriate punishment for what she did with our son. I felt the force field move away and I entered her room.
Beth looked at me, sitting upright on her four post bed. “Alright, but please, do you promise not to say anything?”
She really wasn’t in a position to ask anything, but I decided to soften her up.
“Yes, I promise.”
Beth lay back on the white comforter, putting herself in a submissive position. She put her head on what looked like 10 pillows, as if a queen, closing her eyes and waiting for her punishment.
The closet door was open next to me, apparently her husbands. Suits, shirts, and ties hung neatly. An image flashed through my mind, and so I entered it, quickly grabbing 4 ties from the rack. I stepped back, approaching Beth who was unaware of what I held in my hands. Standing by the bed, I looked at my prize – my submissive ex-wife - almost unable to control myself.
I put three of the ties on the bed, choosing a green and purple tie to start the process. I didn’t plan on it, tying up my ex-wife. But, I guess I didn’t plan on anything. It was just something that flashed into my mind, exciting and erotic. Something we never did during our marriage, but something I knew would be necessary to make sure she didn’t pull my balls off, accusing me of raping her.
As my hand approached her wrist, starting to wrap the tie, Beth lurched it back, looking at me.
“What are you doing? You’re not… putting that on me…. No way….”
Beth was pulling away from me, looking with wide eyes at the ties on the bed. My answer just naturally flowed out of my mouth.
“Beth, listen. I’m not taking a chance of you changing your mind in the middle of things, or acting out. It is the only way.”
Perhaps she knew exactly what I meant. Perhaps she already planned on doing something in the middle of it, claiming I had forced her upstairs. Her mind processed the request, realizing the logic behind it, even though the situation was completely illogical.
“Peter, I promise…”
Despite her pleadings, I wouldn’t hear of it. I climbed onto the bed, moving towards her, softly holding her left hand. Beth was not resisting physically, but her eyes were trying hard to push me away. To drive me out of her room and her life, forever. I just casually wrapped her wrist up, stretching it to the right post of the bed and securing it.
With her left arm stretched, I found her right arm. This time, she held it firm, not wanting to give in. But, her mind was slowly collapsing on itself, and she realized that she had no control of the situation. With a final strain, Beth relaxed her muscle and let me secure her right hand to post. Her head fell back, completely giving in.
Beth lay back, arms spread wide, tied to her king size bed. It forced her to be spread out like a butterfly on display in a museum. Her black dress was in stark contrast to the pale bleached skin of her cleavage, the white comforter that lay beneath her. With her closed eyes, I moved to her legs, wrapping them up, tying them to the bottom posts. They opened to a 45 degree angle, not as stretched out as her arms, but vulgar enough for any man to get excited over.
I stood back, looking at my prize. My once domineering ex-wife was now tied up, secured in her bed. Ready and willing to be treated as I wished, just as she treated our son. I quickly unzipped my pants, Beth paying no attention to the sounds of my stripping. Leaving my t shirt and boxers on, I climbed up, kneeling over Beth’s stomach.
Her head was turned to the side, trying desperately to ignore the situation. The white, soft skin of her ear smiled at me. I leaned forward, kissing the inside of it, licking. Beth jolted.
“Eh…” She sounded slightly revolted.
I traced the side of her cheek with my tongue, smelling her once familiar odor. She turned her head further, desperate to move her lips away from mine.
I paid no attention. Her resistance made me even more excited. I found her lips, pushing my own against her, forcing my tongue into her teeth. Beth tossed her head to the other side, causing my lip to stretch painfully with her quick movement. I was annoyed.
“Hey…” I put my hands on either side of her head, forcing it into position. Beth opened her eyes, wild looking, as she tried harder to resist.
She looked at me forcefully. “Quit…It…. Just…”
Before another word could be uttered, I forced my mouth onto hers, squeezing her heading, kissing my once eager bride. I almost drooled out of my mouth, the passion from me was so intense. Beth, on the other hand, was dry and puckered. Letting no passion escape her.
I leaned back, happy with the frustrated look on Beth’s face. She had closed her eyes, once again ignoring my presence. I leaned in, as though a vampire, sucking on her pale neck. Happy that I was no longer kissing her, Beth let me start my molestations, glad that it was progressing. I pushed my tongue into her neck, feeling the pulse of the blood rushing to her brain.
Sliding lower, I smelled her skin, the dry milk scent wafting up from her breasts. The familiar freckles, laying exposed, free for me to look at like stars in the sky. I put my hands around her throat, feeling the life pulse through her. I slid lower, feeling the soft skin of her pale beauty. I stared in amazement at the rise of her chest, knowing what lay beneath. Swollen with motherhood. I put my hands on the edge of her dress and pulled.
Beth’s breasts seemed to slip out of her dress like two oversized water balloons, flopping back and forth in their freedom. Her nipples were incredibly swollen, almost like a small teenage breast on top of a breast. The dark brown of her areola, well over 3 inches wide, was centered with a 1 inch stub of a nipple pointing right at me. And, surrounding it was a thin perimeter of black hairs, like the new pubic hairs of a young girl. Her hormones were raging. Clearly, they were breasts of a mother.
I was in awe. “Beth, you’re tits… they’re so sexy….”
Beth’s body tensed against the restraints. “Oh, no… they’re…”
I didn’t care what she had to say. I leaned in, smelling the maternal bounty. I put my nose close, inhaling the baby powder smell, looking closely at the opening in the middle where milk would pass. My hands slipped around her firm left breast, causing Beth to chirp.
I began massaging it, pushing her flesh together. The milk inside was obvious as Beth was apparently storing it up for her lunch time feeding. As I ran my hands into the soft, warm flesh, kneading her, I opened my mouth and inhaled her nipple.
The heat from her body was intense, but I focused on the hard, calloused nub of her tit. I rolled it in my tongue, sucking, nursing on her. My hands squeezed her hard, desperate to feel her release into my mouth. Harder I sucked, feeling the hard ball of fat that was behind her nipples, like a small golf ball. My fingers came up, pinching the nipple hard right below my mouth.
Beth sat up, looking at me, pulling her arms against the bed. “Ouch….. Don’t….”
Harder I pinched, looking at her grimace. And as I did, a spurt of milk sprayed in 10 different directions into my mouth. Warm and sweet, I suckled harder, feeling the intensity of the stream increase.
“Please, Peter… Megan needs… She hasn’t…”
My hands slid along the sides of her black dress, feeling the bones of her hips. My erection was sticking out of my boxers as I slowly humped her comforter. I was lost in the sexuality, the intense excitement from molesting Beth. My hands ran into the soft, doughy cheeks of her ass. Squeezing it as I nursed on Megan’s lunch. Pushing the fabric into the crack of her ass, then pulling her cheeks apart as they lay on the bed. I pushed into her, trying to force her dress into her asshole.
“Peter, stop it!”
Beth didn’t like me playing with her, but she was no longer my concern. Her asshole was dry, but the ridges were clearly pushing against my finger as I circled it. My finger pushed about an inch inside of her, using her dress as a condom.
All she did was make me push more. I wiggled into her anus, happy with the pain. I looked up as I sucked on her nipple, fingered her ass, and was rewarded with demonic eyes staring at me, demanding I quit.
Wanting to move on, I pushed myself up, letting her nipple slip out of my mouth. Milk continued to spray onto her black dress, her nipple unable to close off the torrent of liquid. I admired the white stream and small puddles that were forming. As I stared, I grabbed the bottom of her dress, just below her knees, and began pushing it up, forcing it as the fabric dragged under her body.
The whiteness of her thighs was just as I remembered. Bleached, as though years of scrubbing had washed away any color. But, what I didn’t remember, or didn’t expect, was that as I pushed the dress up to her stomach, Beth’s bush sprang out of the dress, thicker and fuller than I ever remembered. I was shocked at the length, probably standing 4 inches off of her body. I pulled on it, watching her hairs stretch.
Beth let her displeasure be well known. She began to cry softly, realizing that it was more degrading than she expected.
“Oh…. Don’t….” Tears began to drip down her cheeks.
I leaned forward, kissing the tear as it dripped down her face. Beth held her face still, frozen in her misery. As I tasted the salt on my tongue, my hand rubbed her exposed pubic hair, pulling on it, stretching it to its uncoiled length of almost 6 inches. Harder I pulled, causing Beth to lift her ass off the bed, not wanting me to pull her bush from her crotch.
I moved my face into her elegant hair, smelling her fresh womanly smell from her special shampoos. And as I inhaled the hair on top of her head, I was twisting her pubic hair in my hands, feeling strands release into my fingers as a few were pulled away from her body. I bit into her blonde hair, chewing on it, rolling it with my tongue.
Sitting up, I was in awe, like watching the Northern Lights for the first time. Beth was beautiful. Breasts spilling out the top of her dress, her pussy exposed with the fabric pushed up to her stomach, legs spread, arms stretched wide. It was a moment that I would remember forever. I pulled off my shirt, letting Beth see me as she did years ago. Then, slipping my hand inside my boxers, I began to masturbate on top of my 39 year old ex.
“Look at me…”
I wanted Beth to see what excitement she was causing in me. I wanted her to degrade herself, force her to look at the penis that impregnated her for the first time. But, she ignored me, so I pushed my penis into her face, forcing it onto her lips, into her clenched teeth. She quickly tossed her head.
I slid lower, rubbing my erection between her now damp breasts, lubricated from her own milk. Creating a deep vagina, I pushed her boobs together around my hardness, watching her nipples erupt as I pressed them together. Back and forth I began to move, feeling the orgasm build inside of me. If I wasn’t careful, I’d cum before I wanted.
Pausing, I suddenly felt me patented “pre love pee” begin to take over, as Beth used to call it. It was a 90 percent certainty that, when I started to get hard, I would always have to go to the bathroom. And then, a truly despicable image came to mind. Not even questioning it, I moved up, letting myself hang over Beth’s face. I couldn’t resist. It was my time to molest her, to treat her with no respect.
I squeezed her cheeks, almost forcing her mouth open.
Beth struggled to speak through her restrained mouth. “Yooaaa hooowwttinnngg mmmeeeeee…”
I could sense it coming, ready to release. With eyes on me, trying to communicate her pain, I watched as they started to process that I was cuming on her face, sprinkling my seed on her as she was used to years ago. But, as the force of the release increased exponentially, as the smell was processed by her nose, her eyes widened in terror as her mouth started to fill with my urine.
Shaking her head back and forth, straining with all her might on the ties, Beth began convulsing.
“What the…. Stop it! Stop!!!! Oh my God!!!”
She was splashing the urine back and forth as I held my penis and focused it on her mouth, clenched tight. Her neck stretched hard, twisting her head, so I moved my aim to her head. It was a brief release, but it served the purpose. Beth was humiliated.
I sat over her, triumphantly. “Ohh…. Beth….”
Sensing that I was done, Beth looked up at me with her wet face. “You son of a bitch. I swear, if you do that again, I will kill you. I don’t care what the fuck you do with that video. You bastard.”
I was glad I decided to use the restraints.
Reminding her who the boss was, my hand moved into her hairy vagina. I expected a dry, puckered slit that was desperate to close itself from the unwanted entry. Instead, I found that Beth was soaked, as though she had just pissed herself. The folds of her pussy were clearly flared out, flushed with blood. I easily slipped my middle finger quickly into her birth canal.
“Beth, your so wet…” She always was.
“Oh….Fuck….” Beth pushed her ass back with the abrupt penetration.
I couldn’t tell if it was a statement of pleasure or disgust. But, I didn’t care. The warmth, the wetness, the vagina that I once masturbated weekly was mine again. I began moving my finger, swirling it in her womanhood, pushing as far as I could into her vagina. Beth tossed her head to the side, grimacing, fighting the feelings of pleasure that she wanted to ignore from my touches.
Once Beth regained the submissive tone, I slid my finger out of her pussy. I finished pushing up her dress, forcing it as high as I could over her head and into the Y of her outstretched arms. I sort of tucked it behind her head, as though a sail on her arms. It almost looked like she had no arms, half of them hidden by the dress.
Beth lay below me, in just her bra, with her tits hanging free and exposed, the dark brown anuses on each staring right back at me. I quickly undid the clasp on the front, causing the bra to snap free. Pulling my own boxers off, I let my naked body sit on her stomach, dick resting just above her belly button.
“Look at your tits…. They’re so full.”
I began to slap her tits back and forth, watching them jiggle. To the left, then the right, then another smack to the left. Beth was resisting any hint that it bothered her. Harder I slapped. To the left, milk spurting from the abrupt movement. Beth was now staring at me, showing me with her eyes that she was desperately trying to restrain herself.
Finally, with my hands above my head, I gave a full swing from the left and right at the same time. The smack was loud and strong. Beth clenched her mouth, biting back the pain. Her eyes closed, looking for a happy place.
I decided to help her find it. Creeping down the bed, I knelt in front of her spread legs. And there, smiling before me, wet and glistening, surrounded by a thick patch of hair, was Beth’s vagina. It was a vagina I never thought I’d see again. Her hole was open, having passed 3 kids through it. But, the mottled pink center looked warm and tight, ready for sex.
Her clit was still hidden behind the hood of flesh. I laid my hand on the top of her exposed pussy, pulling the skin back, exposing her white, hot clit. It was ready for my tongue, despite the pain and humiliation that Beth had just suffered. I opened my mouth, moved in, and began to lick.
Beth’s body responded just as it had hundreds of times during our marriage. She shuddered, nipples becoming hard and firm, with goose bumps on her stomach.
“Uuuhhhh….” Beth moaned, unable to hold it in.
Up and down, in a firm pattern I licked. Beth liked no variation. I moved my hands to her chest, squeezing her breasts, causing random spurts of milk to drip out of her. The sweetness, the flavor of her sex began to seep into my mouth. It was as though we were never divorced. Beth, laying back, legs spread, was responding to my intimate licks.
As her clit began to firm up, as the blood began to flow into it, I back away. My tongue traced her wet slit, pushing into her opening.
“No, Peter… Keep....”
Beth was caught up in the pleasure just as she did when we were married. She was bossing me back to the task at hand. But, unlike our marital escapades, Beth had no control over the situation and cut herself off.
I pushed my tongue deep, tasting her hormones. Her DNA inside of her body. The wetness that was seeping out of her. I backed away, looking at the shades of pink surrounded by the black bristles. A thick tuft of hair was just below her vagina, where her cheeks were squeezing together, hiding her anus from unwanted view. But, I wanted to view it.
I put my fingers on the white globes of flesh and separated them, releasing a deep and powerful musk from Beth’s asshole – what she called her “poop hole.” It was a mass of brown, puckered together, with a soft and velvety pink core at the center. I could see small clumps of her recent use that she hadn’t wiped free, apparently unable to notice the stray material while sitting on the toilet. The inner walls of her ass were stained a deep brown. I was opening up Beth’s most intimate, most biological center.
I ran my finger over the ridges of her anus, stretching the sides so that her center opened just slightly. Beth was clenching her ass closed tightly, wanting nothing to do with my prodding’s. But I pushed, forcing her open, watching as my finger slipped past her tightly puckered asshole.
“Ewwww…” It was a subconscious reaction, letting me know Beth’s displeasure.
Further I pressed, releasing the deep, musty smell that was unique to Beth. I leaned in, rolling my tongue in her anal hair, tasting her flavor as I probed deeper. The walls of her asshole were smooth, unlike the ridges of her vagina. Beth was lifting her ass off the bed, trying to resist. But, harder I pushed. Into her bowels, feeling the tomb of her rectum.
I curled my finger, sensing a bit of stray matter inside of her. “No…Peter…. “
Beth was almost pushing me out, squeezing my finger like she was trying to turn coal into a diamond. I bit her anal hairs, letting them roll into my mouth. Tasting the un-wiped traces of Beth. It was disgusting and unheard of, which was exactly why I was doing it.
I slipped my finger out, looking at the thick traces of matter. The smell was overpowering. I looked up at a relieved Beth, clearly happy that I was no longer probing her rectum. I slid my hand up, moving over her breasts, painting her nipple with the brown matter on my finger. Beth had no clue as to the artistic work, her eyes closed, ignoring the process. But, as my finger moved up to her face, wiping it under her nose, Beth’s head bolted upright.
“You sick….” Beth was breathing in her flavor, smelling that familiar smell as she sat on the toilet.
As I jammed my finger into her mouth, she snapped at it, almost biting me as I smeared her teeth. Her body strained against the bed, her chest thrust up in the air like she was undergoing an exorcism. I slid back down, once again attacking her clit. She tried to buck me away, but there was nothing she could do. I was going to bring her to an orgasm.
Generally, Beth was a 15 minute girl. With specific direction, sometimes she could cum in 10 minutes. So, I knew I had to stay focused if I was going to make her cum. In the current situation, I figured it would be a while. So, I got comfortable and moved against her gyrating body.
But, after about 4 minutes, Beth began to lie perfectly still, no longer able to fight the urges building inside of her. I let my hands stay free, just looking up at her face past the heavy bush. Her mouth was puffing, her eyes were closed, and her nose was scrunched up like she was going to sneeze. I could sense her body getting close.
Suddenly, without any warning, Beth’s stomach began to convulse. She hid it as long as she could, but now, Beth was unable to conceal it. Her body started to shake as the eruption began to take over. Beth lifted her hips, pushing them as best she could into my body.
“Oh my god…” Beth was orgasmic.
Sensing she was past the point of no return, I slipped my hand back between her clenched ass cheeks. Her asshole was blossoming, pushing out her orgasm. I felt it flex around my finger, sucking me in, welcoming me back. Beth screamed.
Her hard clit was like a penis, erect. Her rectum convulsed around my finger. I stopped my licking, letting her body jerk beneath me. I pushed the walls of her bowels, forcing her insides to acknowledge my presence.
Beth lay back, spent. “Uggh….”
Slipping my finger out of her ass, I slid up and leaned into her body. Beth instinctively kissed me, following her set routine after every orgasm. I smelled her ass, tasting the brown streak just below her nose. Beth quickly caught herself, pulling her head back, realizing that she didn’t really want to kiss me.
I didn’t care. My penis was sliding along the sides of her thighs, looking for the warm center that it used to visit during our marriage. I moved my hands up along Beth’s arms, pretending I was holding her down. With her eyes open, looking at me with sex and passion from her recent orgasm, I easily pushed into her. Once again, I was fucking Beth.
Beth puckered her lips, letting the soft, warm feelings flow over her. Beth’s vagina was like a soft, warm velvet glove that I lost years ago. Back and forth I pushed into her, now finding that the glove still fit me as naturally as it did when I lost it.
Beth was looking up at me from her glass eyes. “Please… a condom…. In the table…. Next to the bed…”
I just looked at her, ignoring her plea, letting my own sexual lust take me over. I stared at her breasts, moving back and forth, with her hands stretched out above her. I leaned back, watching as my penis disappeared into the black jungle of her vagina. I grabbed the back of her ass, feeling the soft globes that every man she met probably imagined naked, bent over, and spread in front of them.
My fingers traced into her crack. I felt the hairs, the slime of her orgasm. I looked at the sexual beauty below me, the princess who divorced me long ago. I was so ready to explode, so desperate to cum inside of her. But, as my fingers slid into her ass, as I ran my finger over her damp, puckered asshole, there was one more humiliation I wanted for Beth.
Backing away, I let myself slip out of her. Beth opened her eyes, wondering what may have caused me to stop. Throughout our years of marriage, anal sex was not even allowed to be brought up. But, now, divorced, as she lay bound before me, there was nothing she could do. I slipped my penis lower.
Beth began to clench her asshole, pulling away from me as best she could. “Peter… You can’t rape me like that… Please…. You know I never…”
“Beth, I’m going to fuck you up your ass, you cunt.”
Before she could finish, I pushed. The wet, slippery cum that had dripped out of her pussy was a natural lubricant. I was incredibly hard. So, when the head of my erection pushed into Beth’s asshole, there was nothing she could do. I slipped in, spreading her open like her morning shit, forcing myself into her rectum.
“You fucking can’t do that… Peter…don’t….You’re sodomizing me!”
Unfortunately for her, my pleasure was her pain. “Oh, god, Beth…. Your ass….”
I felt the tightness of her walls squeezing me, drawing me in. I forced myself deeper, moving my head onto the nipple with the anal material spread on it. I tasted her bowels as I forced myself into them, mixed with slight trickles of her milk. Beth desperately tried to wiggle me out of her butt.
“Owwwe…..It hurts…..You’re going to tear….”
“God, Beth…. Its so tight…”
Deep into Beth, I had pushed as far as I could into her butt. And so, I began to fuck Beth up the ass. Fucking her for the years of aggravation she gave me. For the vindictive statements during our divorce. Harder I pushed into her, feeling small clumps inside of her rectum move out of the way.
Once again crying, Beth continued her pleading. “Stop, you son of a bitch…. Stoppp…..”
“Beth, I can feel what’s inside of you…”
I looked down at the tears flowing from her eyes, listening to her sobbing. It just increased my excitement. I lay on top of her, biting her neck, putting both hands on her ass, spreading it wide. I felt myself entering her, squeezing myself. Then, with a final push, I came deep inside of her ass.
Beth felt the release immediately. “Oh my god…. Pull out! Pull out!”
I felt myself ready to blow. “Beth, I’m cuming…. In your ass…..you bitch…”
Hard I pushed, spewing my semen inside of her. Nothing she could do or say would stop me. I bit her neck hard, sensing the bulging vein. I sucked, kissed, and rolled my tongue across the side of her head. With a final surge, reaching up, grabbing her neck, choking her, squeezing, I completed my release.
“Oh.. Beth… you ass…”
Beth just lay still, sickened at what had just taken place. She just lost her anal flower to her ex-husband. She had been molested, raped, and sodomized. But there was nothing Beth could do about it.
Feeling myself grow soft, I slipped out, looking at the immense stain of yellow and brown on the comforter underneath her ass. I rolled to my side, physically and emotionally spent. My conquest was complete, and my son’s mom lay next to me, naked and restrained. And as I slipped into an unconscious slumber, I silently thanked my son for suffering through his ordeal with his mom in order form me to enjoy mine.