Offside Offense

"Keep screaming," he said. "I want your neighbors to know just how good you got fucked." Jemma wanted to make a snide reply, but she couldn't. All she could do was suck in a breath and let it out as another raw, primal euphoric shriek. With a pinch on her nipples to put her over the top, she came. Her cunt clamped down around Marq's magnificent cock, gripping him tightly enough to force him to slow his powerful thrusts. She rolled her hips, her back arched, and her head whipped from side to side as she let loose a wordless howl.

"That's right," Marq said—not that Jemma was in a position to hear him, much less process what he was saying. "Cum on my cock, pretty lady. Bet your fucking boyfriend doesn't make you cum like that." If she could have understood him, Jemma would have been pissed at that—but she'd also have to admit that Dan couldn't quite measure up, in more ways than one.

Even before her climax had ended, Marq changed things up on her again, rolling over on one side and once again putting Jemma on her back on the bed. But this time, he'd swung his legs off the side, and he wound up standing at the edge of the bed. Jemma's back was on the bed, but her hips hung off the side, supported by Marq's strong hands and the thick, unyielding, unbending pole embedded deep inside her.

Marq wasted no time in resuming his rough, rapid thrusts. In this position, he could put his legs into every stroke, and he did just that, rising up onto the balls of his feet so he could drive himself into her deeper. Jemma squealed as his shaft struck home, embedding itself deep in her. Marq chuckled under his breath. "Not used to getting a dick like this, are you, pretty lady? What? Boyfriend don't have enough power?" This time, Jemma heard him, and she opened her mouth to retort. But before she could get a word out, Marq's weapon punched into her, and all that came out was another scream of pleasure as her cunt clenched and she came again.

Her back arched, her pussy quivered, and then... she found herself empty. Her legs were flailing, and then she felt Marq's strong hands on her legs, catching her and flipping her over onto her stomach. Marq wasted no time once she was bent over, and she was just coming down off her orgasmic peak when Marq slammed home again, this time rutting with her from behind like an animal.

The shock of his cunt-splitting pole reentering her made her cum yet again—or perhaps it just prolonged her preceding climax; Jemma wasn't sure. All she knew is that she was clawing at the sheets and screaming, "Yes! Fuck me fuck me fuck me harder!" when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked back, making her back arch. The pain put an edge on the ecstatic pleasure she was feeling, and that set her off again. By now, for all she knew Marq had already cum. Her cunt was so drenched she wouldn't be able to tell if he'd added his own spend to it. But from the way he was impaling her, his fat cock-head hitting her spot on every... single... thrust, if she wasn't bent backward, making all her weight press down on her hips, getting fucked into the mattress with vicious intensity, she thought he probably wasn't done.

She could feel the heat of his breath on her ear and the side of her face. Her eyes were closed, the better to experience the sensations coursing through her. There was some pain, in her back, her scalp, but it just served to heighten the contrast between those feelings and the incredible frenzied pleasure that had her impaled on its white-hot shaft—on Marq's shaft. And then, through the haze, she heard Marq's voice. It was a low growl in her ear, something barely on the edge of hearing, as he said to her:

"I fucked up your boyfriend's leg on purpose."

Her eyes snapped open. She got angry, angrier than she had been all evening, which was quite impressive. Red hot fury burned in her breast. Her cheeks flushed, and her face twisted into a grimace. All of these things happened, and so did something else.

She came.

Hard.

Harder than she had all night. Harder than she could ever remember cumming. It shouldn't have happened, but it did. She screamed, a wordless ear-splitting cry signaling her surrender to the overwhelming pleasure. Her anger only seemed to make her climax more intense, to make her pussy tremble and quiver and squeeze and flood with her honey.

Marq, too, reached his limit, perhaps spurred by his vicious confession. He roared like a wounded beast and buried himself in her clenching cunny. For the second time of the night Jemma felt the warm wet feeling of Marq erupting inside her, albeit this time at the other end of her body. His load rocketed from his cock, flooding her already drenched cunny with his seed. He kept thrusting as he climaxed, punching into her forcefully every time he spasmed and released another shot.

He let go of Jemma's hair and she fell forward. Marq followed, almost collapsing on top of her. For a moment they both lay there, his big body on top of hers, his weight supported on his arms. Her hips rolled gently, and her cunt squeezed him, milking the last few drops from him as they both came down from their respective climaxes. The only sound was both of them breathing heavily.

But then Jemma remembered what Marq had just told her. She started to squirm out from under him, pushing him away with her feet. "Get the fuck off of me, asshole," she said. She felt his softening cock slide out from her, bringing with it a not-inconsiderable stream of their mixed juices, which spilled from her and stained the sheets. "I said, get off!"

Marq laughed quietly. "Just did, pretty lady, and so did you."

He stood up, and Jemma rolled onto her back. "Fuck you," she said, icily.

His grin was downright arrogant as he replied, "Just did."

Jemma got up off the bed and rounded on him in a fury. She shoved him back a step—although, truth be told, she wound up moving herself more than she did him. "Get the FUCK out," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Right now. I don't ever want to even SEE you again. If you ever, EVER, tell anyone about this I will go to the cops and tell them you hurt Dan. And then I will find you and fucking CASTRATE you."

Marq, for the first time in the evening, seemed nonplussed. Up until now he'd seemed to think of her anger as something to laugh at, but now, as she advanced on him, hair in disarray, eyes flashing, face flushed, she was genuinely scary. He put up his hands and yielded. "I'm going, I'm going," he said, retreating from the bedroom. He couldn't resist sinking in one last barb before he left, though. "Just remember, pretty lady. The thing that made you cum the hardest? It was me telling you that I injured Dan on purpose."

Jemma froze, glaring daggers at Marq as he stood in the doorway. Then, with a scream, she grabbed the closest object—a framed photo of her and Dan, as it happened, that had been sitting on the nightstand—and flung it at him. Her aim was off, and it smacked into the wall. The glass cracked as Marq ducked out of the line of fire.

She came flying out of the room, still naked, and stormed toward Marq, making him retreat further. "Fuck you! I'm going to rip off your dick!" she yelled, and Marq gave way. He snatched up his pants and shoes and fled, ducking out of the front door before the enraged woman could get her hands on him. He found himself standing naked in the hall as, on the other side of the door, Jemma threw the deadbolt shut and locked him out.

He tugged on his pants and his shoes. Luckily his wallet was still there; he'd be heading home shirtless, but there were worse things. Inside the apartment, Jemma sat down heavily on the floor and leaned against the door. Now that Marq was out of sight, the hot anger she'd felt was quickly giving way to feelings of guilt and shame. But there was something else, too, something that she almost couldn't admit to herself.

She'd liked it.