Amazing Grace

I saw his nostrils flare as he tried to take in my scent. But I had dried up and not yet recovered from my mother's revelation. My sex was nowhere near it's full pungency. He wanted a wet, fragrant and willing pussy, not a dry scared one. My mind had conflicting thoughts as he craned his neck, also conflicted, wanting to get his face closer to my sex but not wanting to show any weakness. My own conflicted mind started making rationalizations. He was going to fuck me mercilessly, with a brutal force of 12 years of pent-up anger and testosterone behind every thrust into my tender pussy. I did not want to be dry for that. A little saliva, I reasoned, would make it much less painful.

"Spit on it, or you can taste it if you want," I whispered, before I could think better of it.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, bitch?"

"I'm giving you what you need, you don't have to injure me, too."

"First off, you're not giving me shit! I'm taking it. And second, maybe I need to hurt you, for what you did to me."

"So was everything you said at your parole hearing about all the compassion you had in your heart just a bunch of lies?" I challenged him. "Is this really who you are then?"

"It's not who I am, but it's who I am with you."

"Bullshit! If you'll do it to me, you'll do it to anyone." He just glared at me. "You don't have to be a monster," I said finally, softening my tone. I rotated my hips and inched my sex up closer to his face. I sensed his determination to resist was faltering, a pyrrhic victory for me at hand. His eyes closed and his head dipped, but he didn't dive in. His breathing got deeper though, finally smelling my scent straight from the source. His face was now only an inch away, but he didn't want to succumb that last tiny distance. I made the decision for him, and raised my hips that last bit until his nose was buried in the tiny patch of course hairs above my slit. He groaned and I knew I had him, but still he didn't eat, just smelled me. I began to rotate my pelvis, rubbing my sex across his lips. Finally, I pushed my slit right into his nose, smothering him in my pussy. That did it.

Augustine lost all control and began to ravenously lick me all over. His technique was crappy, but I watched in awe as his raw hunger came unleashed. I could not remember the last time someone ate my pussy so enthusiastically. He slurped my labia into his mouth and laved them with his tongue, and oh what a dexterous tongue he had! He prodded every crevice with it and fought to force it in me as deeply as humanly possible. At one point he made a tight seal with his lips and just sucked on my hole while his tongue swirled around inside me, lapping my vaginal walls, desperate for any moisture inside. I don't think he knew where my clit was, but he was so thorough that he occasionally found it anyway. He was a starving man and I was his buffet. On and on he went, drenching me in his saliva.

I sat there watching, kind of in awe, as he ate me like a man in desperate need. In 7 years of marriage, Garry had never eaten me with such fervor, such raw unhinged desire. I pulled on my restraints to no avail, regretting that I could not bring my hand down to touch him, caress his face, tell him to slow down, direct him where to concentrate his efforts that were wildly all over the place at the moment.

'Did I really just think that?!' I gasped in shock. What the fuck was wrong with me? Regardless of the tumultuous conflict of anger and desire storming inside of him, he was still raping me. And despite what I'd just learned, I still feared he might kill me after he got what he wanted. I had to put a stop to this.

My plan was almost ready, I just needed Augustine to let down his guard that final bit. My hands were useless, but my legs weren't. At the moment, he held them tight pushed back and spread out, my knees just under my armpits. I was completely open to him, the cool air of the room tickling my anus. The gun was still in his hand. My only play was to get him to put that gun down and relax his iron grip pushing down against the back of my thighs. I could think of but one way to do so.

I closed my eyes and began to subtly gyrate my hips. I felt a slight shift in his posture and knew we was looking up at me. I had a feeling he wasn't buying it, as his grip holding my thighs back seemed to tighten. The cold steel of the 9 mm pistol pressed harder into my flesh, a stark contrast to the warmth of his face pressed tightly into my sex. But I was committed to my plan. It was probably the best chance I was going to get. I had to make it work.

I opened my mouth from the tight grimace in which I had it and began to make my breathing sound more labored. I didn't know if he was still watching my face so I decided to play to his ears. They started faintly, tiny moans escaping from my chest. Then whispers. "Slower... higher... right there." No use giving him fake directions, I reasoned, perhaps foolishly. If I wanted him to believe my act, I had to make it sound real, didn't I?

He grunted and redoubled his efforts. Yes! I was getting to him. I slowly increased the gyration of my hips, the labor of my breathing and the volume of my sighs. With my sex a moving target he lost his place. By reflex I directed him back and was surprised that he obeyed. I needed to use it to my advantage and push him that last little bit over the edge.

"Yes, right there," I whispered when he found the right spot again. "That's my clit. Please don't... awe fuck!" I cursed, mocking my own internal conflict. He took the bait. Releasing my thighs, he put the gun down on the mattress right next to my hip. I slowly let my thighs begin to relax, not wanting to spook him. To my surprise, once his hands were free he wrapped his huge arms around my thighs to hold his mouth tightly in place. He didn't want to lose hold of my clit again. My plan could not have worked more perfectly. It was time to seal the deal.

"God, I hate myself but-- nnnnggh-- right there, don't stop!" I moaned, trying to play to the bullshit rape fantasy that most men thought women harbored. At the same time, I pushed my thighs down further to wrap them around his head then locked my ankles behind his back. Now I had him. I had strong runner's thighs. With one good contraction I could snap his neck and end this entire ordeal. I could save myself from the further violations he had planned for me. A vision of Augustine hulking over me, his muscles bulging and sweat dripping off of him as he pounded into me flashed into my mind. I shuddered, telling myself it was from fright. Nope, definitely could not let that happen. Now was the time. I decided to count to three then make it quick, and hopefully painless.

As he settled into a rhythm swirling his tongue around my clit, counting to three suddenly necessitated a level of concentration I couldn't seem to muster. I thought about all I had done to him. I thought about what my mother had done to his father. I wondered if his dad had ever eaten my mom like this? I never noticed much passion between my parents, especially after the "rape," and I wondered if both the guilt and longing for desire this intense had killed their sex life. I reflected on how Augustine didn't want to just be a monster. His efforts between my legs were proving that beyond a reasonable doubt. I started my count over and over again but could never get to three. Shit.

My indecision cost me. After about 9 or so minutes Augustine pulled his mouth off of my sex and reared up, ripping his shirt off and positioning his lower body between my splayed thighs. At some point he lost his pants, but I had no idea when. His face was wet and shiny, as was the splayed gash between my legs. If I had to take the stand I'd swear it was all his saliva, but it wouldn't take a DNA test to convict me of perjury. The heady musk that filled the room gave me away. My reaction was not lost on Augustine, either. His cock was throbbing angrily and dripping with pre-cum as he aimed it at my gooey center.

"Augustine no!" I pleaded as a million thoughts raced through my mind. This was still rape, despite how my body was allegedly reacting. I did not want to be taken against my will. I did not want to let someone other than my husband into my body. I wanted him to at least use a condom. I wanted him to go slow and give my body time to adjust to his size, and not just start pounding away in me. I wanted to reach that gun lying next to my hip and make him stop. If I could just make him stop and leave, I would not press charges and have him tried again for rape. It seemed like a reasonable compromise.

His gaze held mine as he rubbed the fat head of his shaft up and down my gooey channel, wetting it further while teasing my clit, causing involuntary contractions that we both could hear as my lips kissed the head of his cock. Fuck.

"At least please put a condom on!" I pleaded. He laughed.

"They don't give out condoms in prison," he snorted, pushing my thighs back up against my chest again, spreading my sex to be violated. "You just have to take it raw," he said, sliding the tip in then pulling it back out and rubbing my wetness up over my clit, mocking me.

"Then just don't cum in me, please," I begged, remembering that I was ovulating. Shit.

"I'll think about it," he grunted, and slammed into me.

I cried out in shock. His girth stretched me uncomfortably and his length knocked the breath out of me, but it was shameful how easily he ploughed it all into me in one stroke. Then he started to pound me. It was more than I could take so soon. I pleaded with him to stop.

"Don't lie to me, bitch. I know how much you're enjoying this. I could taste your excitement," he said, slamming his hips down into me, taking my pussy like he owned it.

"Augustine please!" I begged.

"Please what?" he asked in a mocking tone.

"Please don't do this," I implored him. "Don't be a monster."

"But you made me a monster," he replied. His gaze was focused between my thighs, watching raptly as he continued his relentless assault on my pussy. Luckily my body was starting to adjust, and it wasn't pain I was feeling any longer.

"Augustine, look at me," I asked softly. Reluctantly, his eyes shifted up to focus on mine. "You're angry, but you are not a monster, despite what I did to you. You don't have to do this like a monster. Just untie me please." That stopped him mid stroke. He stared intently into my eyes, with only his fat mushroom head still lodged within me. He throbbed and jumped inside me at the prospect of what I was hinting at. I thought he might cum right then and there, but he fought it off.

"Stop trying to fuck with my head, bitch" he growled at me. "You're playing with fire," he warned. I shook my head, feeling crazy and lightheaded with what I was about to say.

"We don't have to... you don't have to do this like a monster. It doesn't have to be like this. I promise," I told him, circling my legs around his lower back. I no longer knew if I was lying as I tightened my calves and pulled him back fully into me. Once he hit bottom, I squeezed my pussy around him as snug as I could.

"FUUUCCCKKKK!" he cried as his resolve came crashing down from the feel of sliding so easily back into my wet heat. He collapsed on top of me like a slab of solid muscle, forcing me to take his weight. He reached for my wrists and pulled at the knots, freeing my hands. Then he curled his arms underneath me and held me tight while his hips resumed a slower but more forceful pounding of my pelvis. I could hear my sex squishing wetly around him, and I felt flooded with guilt and shame.

I reached downward, grateful for the release of tension restraining my arms, but I didn't quite reach for the gun. Instead, I put my hands on his hips, feeling the raw power as his muscles tensed and released beneath his skin. 'Not yet,' I told myself, though I couldn't figure out just what the hell I was waiting for. Was I scared, or was I shamefully enjoying this too much? His hot breath in my ear and against my neck wasn't helping me think clearly.

It wasn't the length of Augustine's cock that got to me as much as it was his massive girth. Every time he bottomed out in me he churned his hips, stretching the walls of my sex and pulling them to and fro. My pussy felt full, wonderfully full, and wept her gratitude. A steady flow of my juices drew a path over my perineum and down into the crack of my ass, finally pooling on the bed spread beneath me. My face flushed crimson at the disgraceful reaction of my body.

I turned my head to the side, trying to hide my shame, but in the process exposing more of my neck and shoulder to him. It was a fatal mistake. When his plush lips found that spot just under my ear and beneath my hair line, the battle was lost. Losing all judgment I circled my arms around his neck and held him tight to me. I couldn't say the words but my body told him exactly what I was thinking - that I wanted him to fuck me, long and hard. I was willing to let him to work out all of his anger and pain in my tender pussy.

And he did. He came pretty quickly after that, roaring and grunting on top of me as he pounded through his release. I was close, and a swell of disappointment welled up inside me as I anticipated the emotional letdown of him pulling out before my own release. Miraculously, he just kept fucking me, never losing his erection. I nearly cried with relief as my pending climax surged back up to the surface. My nails dug into his back and my teeth found his neck. He knew I was close and turned his head to look into my eyes as he increased the tempo of his strokes, abusing my tender pussy in the sweetest way imaginable.

It was me. I did it. Guilty as charged. In the heat of the moment I craned my neck up to capture his lips with my own. I kissed him, wetly with an open mouth, and sent my tongue in search of his. They dueled madly when they found each other, and my body broke out into convulsions as my orgasm crashed through me like a hurricane. He kept pounding me all through my storm, forcing more orgasms out of me. I broke our kiss but only for want of oxygen, and screamed out into the room.

The forceful contractions of my pussy stoked a hotter fire deep within him. He pulled each of my legs up and hooked them around his biceps then resumed fucking my pussy as hard as he could at a frenetic pace. It was only then that I felt the full overwhelming force of his lust unleashed. With my legs spread and my hips pushed up, his tumescent cock achieved maximum penetration. His meaty shaft dug deep into virgin territory on every thrust, knocking the breath out of me. Every muscle in his body seemed to come alive, working in unison to drive his hips into mine as hard as he could with absolutely no concern for my wellbeing. Yet the wet sounds of his demanding cock slicing through my hungry pussy reverberated throughout the room, adding to my shame. It was an overwhelming mix of pleasure and pain, and I didn't know how much more I could take. But he was close and I wanted him to cum again. I wanted him to cum so hard and so good that he forgave me. I tried to convey as much with my eyes, as I had neither the breath nor coherence to speak. I held his head in my hands, kissing and licking the sweat off his face.

Auggie groaned in sweet agony, hurriedly pushing himself up and pulling out of me. I sat there confused with my dripping sex gaping open as he scrambled up the bed. Before I knew it he was in my mouth. The musky flavor of our combined juices hit me first, followed quickly by a fresh deluge exploding on my tongue and bathing my tonsils. I was not expecting him to take my sentiment as an indication to cum in my mouth, but I accepted his cum obediently, hungrily, nevertheless. I swirled his cream around with my tongue, grateful for my orgasm and his pleasant flavor. I mewed thankfully and swallowed it down. When it seemed I had taken the last of his spurts I probed his tiny little slit with the tip of my tongue and sucked forcefully, doing my best to drain him completely.

"Holy fuck," he exclaimed, collapsing on the bed to my right. I lay there panting, equally breathless. As my hands dropped to my sides, my left encountered the cold steel of the 9 mm he'd left laying at my hip.

For the longest time we both just lay there gulping air, trying to make sense of what had just happened. I was in total shock, and feeling ashamed. I hadn't cum so hard in years. Not because Garry wasn't a good lover, but married sex just doesn't deliver the full fireworks show every night like when you're dating someone new. It wasn't all Garry's fault, either. I hadn't given myself so freely before, and it had been a while since I felt so alive with passion.

Spent love juices began oozing out of by gaped open sex, sliding down into the crack of my ass and over my anus, and a horrified feeling came over me. Auggie had come twice, the first time deep inside my pussy. I had stopped taking my pill months ago because Garry and I were trying to start a family, and my ovulation cycle was starting that day. Fuck!

That's when the guilt began to hit me, hard. I kept trying to tell myself that I acted as I did only to defuse Auggie and take the threat of further violence out of the situation. It worked perfectly. His guard was down as he lay panting next to me, cooling off and trying to catch his breath. The gun was safely in my hand and out of his reach, and I tightened my fingers around the grip to make myself feel even more secure. But I couldn't bring myself to draw it on him and tell him to get the fuck out of my house, or make him sit while I called the police. What the hell was wrong with me?

I turned my head to look at him and saw his face all twisted up in anguish. I wondered if he was in similar crisis like me? I didn't dare ask. He must have been. He came over here to brutalize me, to exact revenge. What we just shared was... well, it wasn't that. Anything but. He wanted to hate me and unleash his rage upon me, but he couldn't fully do it. I should hate him for hitting me and raping me, but I couldn't. What he had taken from me was nothing compared to what I had taken from him.

As I watched these emotions play out across his face I just prayed, prayed that the human vulnerability he showed while he was inside me would remain. I reached out to him with my free hand to hold onto his arm. The muscles beneath his skin came immediately to life as he jerked away. I was losing him. I took a deep breath and decided to take a risk. It could be the worst decision of my life, but I would do it.

Releasing the gun in my left hand, I turned fully toward him. "Don't," I softly pleaded, placing my hand on his chest and rubbing gently through the course hairs I found there. "Don't let the monster come back," I begged, "stay with me."

He glared at me, and sat up in the bed. "Arrogant white bitch!" he spat. "You think your pussy is so damn great that giving me some makes it all good now?!" My god, he could be cruel. It would have been less painful if he had hit me again.

"I know it doesn't," I said, "and can you please stop calling me that? I don't think that at all. I was just trying to say... I was just trying to be understanding, and express how sorry I am."

"What the fuck do you understand about what happened to me?!"

"I don't know, I know it must have been hell," I replied softly, trying to keep things calm.

"And what the fuck do you know about hell?"

"Well then explain it to me, make me understand." A sinister smile crept over his face at my poor choice of words. I knew I was in trouble.

"That's what I'm here to do," he laughed, pushing my shoulder until I was once again on my back. He climbed on top of me, and my treacherous legs spread for him all on their own so he could get comfortable between them. I was sore, but damn if my pussy didn't clench with excitement at the mere thought that he wanted back inside. I tried to blame my behavior on the fact that I was ovulating, but that explanation rang hollow. There was just a raw intensity and hunger in the way Auggie fucked me, and my body was responding in kind. He stared at me and I held his gaze, my breathing sped up. But he read my body language and knew it was more excitement than fear.