April the Spoiled Housewife

Next day, throughout my morning shower and toilette routine I kept thinking about Tommy. Tommy was a guy I met last year while I was having problems with my old car. Back then, the Lexus was making a funny engine noise so I pulled over and I was so upset with it that I was sure Billy was trying to kill me with it. The auto-club tow truck pulled over and it was so cold out, Tommy asked me if I wanted to warm up in the cab. While I waited for him to hook it up or whatever, I was getting a bit antsy and well, it turned out Tommy appreciated that sort of thing.

He was a different class of society from us, but I understood him well, and I think he knew what my soul was like. I texted him without a preamble.

"can u help me pick out a new car?"

Of course, I really wasn't looking for a new one. Nothing of the sort. That Range Rover made me wet from how luxurious it was. The entire morning I spent picking out a decent outfit to wear for the day. Eventually I settled for what poor people wear. Bright silver tights and a stretchy black lacy shirt to make my tits stand out, and 6" Gucci high heels to make me seem taller. The shirt hung over one of my shoulders, showing my pretty flesh. My ass really showed.

I kind of just wanted to ask him what he thought of the dinner plate slight since he'd probably have a different perspective on that. He replied back in a minute and asked me where I was. Instead of replying, I drove a town over and pulled over on the side of the road and then told him where.

He replied, "damn u far from home. b there in 30"

Billy would never drive a town over to rescue me, let alone to see me. I needed to know that someone would. Tommy made it there in half the time it took me to drive there, then motioned for me to get in his truck. I sat down, and he leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Damn girl, you look so hot." I said nothing and he drove off. Tommy was a man of few words, a good listener.

He seemed to drive with a purpose, so I kept busy playing a game on my phone. Few times he reached over and groped me, but I slapped his hand away. I don't let any man treat me like that.

"You playing hard to get huh girl?", he asked. I just ignored him.

"So where are you going to help me pick out a new car?" I asked a few minutes later.

He replied, "How about my place?"

"Okay, if you think that's the best place."

He agreed, and drove us to to his trailer home, soon pulling up to park. He walked around the truck and opened the door for me, then took my hand and led me into his trailer. It wasn't even locked. Was that a thing? Did people not lock their places around there?

He walked me to what was supposed to be his bedroom, and then picked me up because he was so strong and put me over his bed, face down. There was garbage all around the bed. Used plates, an empty jug of milk, random clothes. Closing my eyes, I put the phone down on the bed and enjoyed being manhandled by his strong hands. Not many men could pick up a fatty like me and throw me around like a ragdoll.

I heard him unzip behind me, and then he got on top and kissed the back of my neck. Guess it felt kind of good, and he wouldn't have to look at me in the face if he wasn't facing me. I didn't want to ruin the mood with my ugly face.

"So what car should I get?" I asked him.

With his rugged hands, he reached around my waist and tucked his fingers in the waistband of my tights, then slowly rolled them down until they exposed my ass. Every second of him pulling them down was a challenge fighting gravity. But as they got lowered, turned out I wasn't wearing any panties.

He replied, "You should get a new Mercedes G-class, girl."

He kissed my neck again and I felt his hard cock slide down my back onto my ass. I looked over and his big tattooed arms were holding him suspended over the bed. I could feel how heavy his cock was, sliding downward. I'd have to remember that car name for Billy.

His cock head pressed against my pussy lips and I whimpered, "no."

Problem is I was really wet for some reason and he didn't understand my no. He pushed it in slowly and the head slipped in. I turned around and told him no again. "Tommy, stop, I could get pregnant."

He didn't care. He slipped it in some more and I put my head down for a second, burying it in his covers. I felt his cock slip halfway in, stretching my pussy -- it was a huge cock, and I turned around again telling him to stop. "Tommy, no, I can't get pregnant!" He didn't care, and he just kept going. My pussy was so wet, there was no stopping him. He almost hit my cervix and I tried to wriggle out of his hold, but his whole body weight was on me. He was a big guy. Huge guy.

He put one of his hands on my head and pressed it sideways into the covers, then kept fucking my pussy. I pleaded with him, "Tommy, please stop. You're being insensitive just like Billy." He held me down.

Billy was probably that inconsiderate. I mean, I would never let him get in that position of power over me, but I was sure that he was an asshole. He wasn't big like Tommy, but I was sure he had his mean streak.

Whimpering a moaned "no" again, I begged. "Tommy, please stop, you're being a jerk like Billy."

He kissed my ear and whispered in it, "You don't mean that. Don't you like this baby?"

My body betrayed me and the kiss felt so good so I moaned an "uh huh."

But no, I didn't like this. I just wanted to talk about my day yesterday and ask Tommy what he thought of the plates. But I said nothing of the sort. Instead, I repeated myself, "Tommy, stop. I can't get pregnant!" He ignored it a few times and I repeated myself. Louder I got, it seemed like he responded by fucking my pussy harder.

"Oh, you don't want to get pregnant? I can take care of that."

I didn't know what he meant by it, but I soon understood. He let go of my head, and slapped my butt hard. It hurt, and it was a weird turn-on. Then, he pulled his huge cock out of my pussy and rested it on my ass. Oh god, I dreaded that moment. He put it against my asshole and pressed it in a little. Didn't he realize how insensitive he was being? He was just like Billy, even though the sensation made me feel really horny.

"Tommy, that's not funny. Please stop."

Just then my phone rang, so I fished it out of the covers. It was Billy. I picked it up, and held it to my ear. "Yeah?"

He was babbling something about some paperwork I was supposed to mail off and didn't. I wasn't his secretary!

Tommy licked my ear and pressed his huge cock harder against my asshole. I winced from the discomfort and felt it spread my butthole apart. I put the phone down against the bed and turned around to face Tommy.

I asked him, "What are you doing?"

Billy paused, thinking I was talking to him, and started babbling about something. I didn't care. I was looking Tommy in the eye, and he said to me, "I'm going to fuck your ass, you little rich bitch."

It was then that I started crying. Tommy was being insensitive. I was a big fat ugly girl and he called me little, lying to my face about my condition. Tommy just grunted and pinned my head down to the covers again. Billy heard me crying and asked if I was okay.

I ignored him.

Then Tommy rammed his huge cock halfway into my tight asshole. The pain made me cry outloud and Billy was startled.

"Are you okay April?" he asked.

Tommy released my head and I picked up the phone. I told Billy that I was okay, but I couldn't stop crying from the upset. Through tears, I told him that he was stifling me. I had so much to do around the house, and all he had to do was go to work. I cried some more as I felt Tommy's cock bottom-out.

I kept crying and Billy was trying to calm me down and Tommy was reaming my asshole. He had mirrors all over his bedroom, so I could see his huge cock slipping into my hole. His cheap trailer park mirrors were horribly distorted. In it, it looked like I was a tiny little thing and he was a huge fat guy. My face was barely recognizable. Instead of a fat fuck, I looked like a little pixie. Why did it hurt so much?

I hung up on Billy and then threw the phone down on the floor and broke the screen. Then, I turned around and asked Tommy if he thought I was pretty.

"Yeah, you're gorgeous girl." He kept fucking my ass.

I put my head down in the covers and ignored the pain and discomfort. I wanted it to stop every second of the experience. It felt so unnatural the entire time, like I physically needed to get his cock out to stop the suffering.

"Do you mean it? Do you really think I'm pretty?" I asked again.

Tommy was slamming my ass and I wanted him to stop so much. Every moment of his cock being in my ass felt unwelcome. I just wanted him to stop, to be done, to be out so I turned around and threatened him.

But instead of saying something threatening, I yelled "Cum in my ass" at the top of my lungs. That wasn't what I thought I was going to say. But I guess if he came, that'd stop him fucking my ass, so it was kind of the same thing. He started fucking my ass hard, his skin making a slapping noise against mine.

He said, "See, you won't get pregnant this way."

He started fucking me even harder. His whole body was bouncing up and down on the bed, compressing it and me, and I could feel it go in deep. Oh god, I've never had a bigger cock in my ass before. He wasn't even using any lube, it was just my wet pussy juices. He stuck his face next to mine and kissed me, flicking his tongue against mine. I was still crying, and I just wanted him to stop, for him to blow his load and move on.

Just as he came, he put his huge arms around my neck and throttled me, yelling at me unkindly. I don't know what he said, but my asshole was soon filled with his cum.

After he got off of me, I pulled up my silver tights and wiped my tears with my shirt. My face was a mess from the tears and I asked him again. "Do you really think I'm pretty?"

He was spent and not very talkative, but he slapped my butt hard and assured me I was.

"Jesus, I've never fucked a hotter girl than you. Are you kidding? You're like a skinny model and I'm a fat lazy trucker. You are so pretty and freaky as fuck."

He showed me phone pictures of some huge fat ugly guy fucking a tiny little girl on his bed. They were amateur quality; the tattoos looked like Tommy's and the girl had a beautiful tight ass and huge tits sticking out from the sides.

"Who's the little whore you're fucking?" I wanted to know playfully. That's not what I looked like; his cheap phone camera distorted me horribly. Why did I let him photograph me in bed? His cum kept running out of my ass.

He just kissed me and laughed, "I love your sense of humor."

On the way home, I realized I needed to get some groceries so I stopped by to get some kale and bean sprouts. Then, I added random items and a pair of shears from gardening, and some stickers. They were cute.

As I was checking out, I noticed the same courtesy clerk was helping in the line. Again, I told him that yes, I needed help to the parking lot. This evening was dark and late, and parking far in the lot seemed more lonely than usual.

After Dillon loaded my groceries, I again cornered him holding a dollar bill. He was standing against the trunk, pushing things in and I was right behind him, blocking his exit. He turned around.

"Dillon, do you think I'm pretty?"

This time around, he was more coherent about it. "Why yes, ma'am, you're beautiful."

"Do you really think I have a pretty face?" I asked him.

Before he could answer, I got closer to him and pressed the dollar bill in his front pocket. As I was doing that, I leaned over and my crotch briefly touched his. I felt a spasm through the fabric. His cock was really hard.

Ignoring his nod, I went on, "Dillon, I know boys lie. You don't have to tell me anything like that, but am I hot? Do I turn you on?"

He only nodded again.

At this point, I simply reached out and grabbed his cock through his pants. He was very agreeable to me doing that. In a matter of seconds, I unzipped him and pulled his cock out. It wasn't very hairy. He opened his mouth and just breathed through it in confusion.

"How old are you Dillon?" I asked him.

"18," he said.

"Thought so." He had been working there for years, like a loser.

Pushing him against my trunk, and holding his cock, there was only one thing to do. I lowered the front of my silver tights down. Then, I pushed his cock right against my pussy lips and watched his eyes close. I was so wet. We were about the same height, and standing next to each other, if I moved against him I could slip his head in. Over the next few seconds, I rubbed his penis against my pussy and slipped it in. He moaned.

"Dillon, am I pretty?" I asked him again. I really wanted to know. He opened his eyes and I kept intently staring at them.

"You're so beautiful, ma'am," he whimpered respectfully.

Still staring at his eyes, I leaned into him and pushed his cock deeper into my pussy. It was only an inch in, but I could feel how warm it was. My pussy lips just swallowed it whole. I looked him in the eyes and growled at him.

"Am I really pretty? How pretty am I?"

He seemed to run out of attributes and his vocabulary collapsed into a single grunt. He came within seconds, and I felt a trickle of young cum splash in my pussy. Immediately, I pulled away and an another spray landed on my legs.

I walked away and left him with his cock out in the parking lot behind my Evoque, hitting the trunk remote. The trunk started closing and I hopped in my beloved Range Rover and drove home.

Within a few blocks, I realized I did a horrible thing and confused Dillon about my intentions. The novelty of the experience unnerved me so I pulled over and parked. I was somewhere in downtown. All I wanted was some air, so I walked away from my vehicle and tried to get a hold of myself.

Just past the Belvedere building, a homeless man cat-called me. From a dark alley, he yelled at top of his lungs, saying, "Hey pretty bitch, wanna suck my dick?"

I turned to him, livid. Did he not understand what I could do to him? Did he not understand how hard I worked keeping our household afloat? Billy would hurt him so bad for me.

Instead, I said, "Do you really think I'm pretty?"

He said nothing. I walked closer up to him, looking him right in the eyes. Closer I got to him, stronger he smelled like garbage. He backed away from me.

I repeated myself. "Am I pretty?" and kept walking toward him, staring at his eyes.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"