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Archive name: Madabou2.txt (mf, bond)
Authors name: Frost
Story Title : Mad About You
Part 2 of 8

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      They were both quiet afterwards, neither quite sure what had
happened. Jamie tried to puzzle out what had turned her on so high,
so hot, so fast. She'd never been one to experiment sexually. In
fact, she was, she admitted, a little repressed.

     She had had a few boyfriends before Paul, but things hadn't
really developed very far. She'd done her first blow-job at
eighteen, and done perhaps five or six more of them over the next
three years. She'd lost her virginity at twenty. It hadn't been a
terribly exciting time.

     At twenty one, having had only four previous sexual experiences,
two with one boyfriend, two with another, she had met Paul. She had
fallen in love with him, and come, eventually, to enjoy sex, but
more as an expression of closeness, of love and tenderness, than
because of any real physical pleasure.

     Oh it was pleasant at times, but tales about massive fireworks
that she often read or heard about, she had dismissed as mostly
exaggeration. The most pleasure she ever had was on those rare
occasions when she masturbated. She didn't do it much because she
was either too busy to take the time, or felt it was a kind of a
betrayal to Paul.

     So the massive pleasure she had experienced during the rough,
raw, violent sex was a tremendous puzzle. It made her
uncomfortable, wondering if maybe there was something inside her
that was masochistic, that craved abuse.

     He had spanked her, for God's sake! And she had gotten off on
it more than almost anything she could remember, without him doing
more than slapping her behind and fingering her crotch.

     He had gotten off on it too, which also discomforted her. What
if it turned out he liked hurting women, liked hurting her? What
kind of a man got off on hurting his wife? Weren't they just sub-
human wife beaters?

     She had always felt very close to Paul, but now she wondered
if she knew him at all, and what was worse, if she knew herself any
better.

     As for Paul, he was wondering something along the same lines.
He had felt an almost frightening pleasure as he smacked his hand
down on Jamie's ass. The sound of her cries were like music to his
ears, and he had had a tremendously hard time restraining himself
from doing worse.

     The raw, violent sex was something new to him, something he
hadn't dared with girlfriends, and of course, had never considered
with Jamie. It had been, without question, the most fantastic
sexual experience he could remember. Never had Jamie seemed so
utterly sexual and erotic.

     Every time he'd slapped her ass, every rough movement he'd
made, he had anxiously expected her to protest, to demand he halt.
But she hadn't. What did that mean? She had sure seemed to like it.
But maybe she'd been acting. Maybe she was even now disgusted with
him.

     He wasn't sure, and didn't dare ask.
	
		*		*		*

     Their sex life over the next week was limited to the
occasional kiss and pat on the behind. Jamie was wary of both him
and herself, and Paul was afraid to push things, despite his
growing frustration. Each time he tried to get close to her in bed
she found a reason to ease away, tiredness, headache, or just plain
not in the mood.

     On a Thursday night, almost a week afterwards, he didn't wait
for her to get into the bed. She undressed and put on her
nightshirt, then went to put on some kind of greasy stuff, which
made it obvious to him that there would, again, be no sex tonight.

     He rolled out of bed...he slept nude, as usual, and came up
behind her, gripping her wrist.

     "Put that shit away, will you?" he said, irritated.

     "You don't want me to look old and wrinkled when I'm forty, do
you?"

     "I don't care what you look like when you're forty," he
growled. He took off her glasses, ignoring her protests, then spun
her around, and gripped the hem of her nightshirt, jerking it up.

     "Paul!" she cried in protest.

     He jerked the nightshirt up and off, flinging it against the
wall and wrapping his arms around her, drawing her naked body up
against his as he bit down on her neck. His hands dove to her ass
and he squeezed her tightly as he ground his loins into her.

     "Paul! Stop it! I...I have to be at work early to...tomorrow!"
she gasped, pushing him back.

     He ignored her, lifting her up and carrying her to the bed. He
got into the bed, easing her down below him as he growled and
gnawed and chewed on the nape of her neck. His hands came out from
under her ass, sliding through her golden blonde hair and over her
small breasts as he let his weight down on her.

     "Paul! I...I don't...I..."

     He silenced her words with his mouth, crushing her lips. His
tongue darted in between them, caressing her teeth and lips as he
rubbed himself against her. His cock hardened rapidly as it was
ground between their bodies, and he reached down for it, placing the
hard purple helmet against her opening.

     Jamie decided to give in. It would only take a few minutes and
then she could put him off for another few days while she pondered
her behaviour, and his, last week. There was no real violence in
what he was doing, though he was certainly being more insistent
than normal.

     And more...more rough...more...aggressive. His hands were
racing over her body, mauling and kneading her breasts as his mouth
pressed down demandingly. He pinched and pulled at her nipples,
making her yelp, then drove himself slowly, but firmly down into
her tight pussy.

     It was not a brutal thrust, yet it was also not the slow, in
out, gradual penetration she was used to. She felt his organ
sliding firmly, determinedly into her in one single deep drive, and
groaned a bit in surprise, and at the strain and sudden bloating of
her surprised body.

     He tore his lips free of hers, then engulfed her nipple and a
chunk of breast meat, biting, chewing, sucking fiercely. She
gasped, but he was gone, his lips on her throat, then on her mouth
again, then on her other breast, then her shoulder, darting here
and there, biting and sucking and licking and slurping excitedly.

     His hands kneaded and squeezed her breasts nearly
continuously, crushing and rolling the soft, tender, orbs as he
ground himself into her. His body rolled from side to side, and
ground back and forth over her, even though he wasn't pumping, even
though his cock was buried to the hilt inside her.

     She felt it moving inside her, the pressure shifting from side
to side in her belly, twisting around as he moved. She felt his
weight on her thighs and belly and ran her hands across his
shoulders and ribs as she felt herself heating up.

     She spread her legs slightly, instinctively, then wondered why
she had. She drew her knees up and apart, trying to kiss him back,
but finding his head still moving rapidly, his mouth still shifting
from throat to mouth to breasts.

     She gripped his head and pulled his lips onto hers, and they
kissed long, and hard, and deep and with growing passion on her
part. He started to hump down against her, and she felt his cock
thumping into the back wall of her pussy as it moved. She gasped in
pleasure, spreading her knees wider, even though the tendons in her
thighs were already aching from the strain.

     She felt her heart pounding faster, felt the blood racing
inside her as their tongues duelled, first in his mouth, then in
hers. She ran her hands down his body and onto his ass, and dug her
fingers into the flesh as he ground and humped into her.

     He pulled himself free then, pushing himself up on his arms,
taking his weight off her. He began to hump into her with a hard,
steady, driving rhythm. His cock pumped inside her, thrusting in
again and again as she lay below him. His hips struck her thighs in
a hard, steady tattoo as his cock plunged again and again into the
depths of her tight, moist belly.

     Then he shoved himself back, his hands gripped her legs behind
the knees and he let his weight come down on them as he shoved them
back against her chest. Jamie gasped as she stared up at him, as
her knees were crushed back into her breasts and her ass raised
upwards off the bed.

     He began to fuck harder and faster, using long, deep strokes
as he pounded his cock down into her.

     Never before had they used this position, for she had
considered it far too demeaning. She had the words of protest on
her lips, but never got them through. She felt her body thrum with
sexual energy as his thick organ drove into it, and felt every hard
thump of his hips against her buttocks driving the pleasure onward.

     This is demeaning, her mind cried. How can you let him use you
like this? How can you be such a slut? She was embarrassed a little
at how utterly exposed she was to him, at how her ass was raised
and her crotch gaped.

     But too much of her mind was reeling from the pleasure as his
cock pounded down into her. She heard herself grunting softly with
each hard thrust, and knew, without thinking, without any conscious
though, that she loved the hard pounding against her ass, that she
felt a blast of pleasure each time his hips hammered her ass cheeks
and drove them down.

     She felt wanton, felt like a raw, carnal animal as he rutted
down into her. She was always careful, so very careful of her
dignity at work, of the clothes she wore an the way she moved, she
could only imagine what her co-workers would think if they saw her
like this.

     And the thought of that, rather than crushing her, made her
body burn like fire. She gasped and mewled in response as he
shifted his weight on her legs, his hands travelling down them,
down to her calfs, then ankles. He threw his weight on them,
unbending her long legs and straightening them back along her
torso.

     She felt a blast of amazement as he put his legs on her
ankles, shoving them up over her shoulders. Her back ached, and the
tendons in her thighs were hot and sore, but she didn't care about
that. It was the position she was in, the sight of her crotch only
inches from her chin, of her ass cheeks raised high, and his cock
thrusting down into her that took all her attention.

     She stared in utter fascination at the sight of his cock
driving into her again and again, and then looked up at him and saw
the fire in his eyes and, and gasped again. She knew how excited he
was, and knew she was the cause of it, and that added to the
roaring inferno that was raging through her own body.

     And then he managed to shove her feet back further, and she
could feel them, could feel her bare feet as he pressed them back
against her ears, and she felt like the sluttiest, hottest whore in
the worlds as he pounded his cock down into her, and her ass
bounced wildly up and down under the blows.

     And she came, came like with a colossal, blinding firestorm of
sexual pleasure. Her senses were flooded with ecstasy, and her mind
bobbed and twisted and turned over and over as the raging tide
passed through and over it.

     She shuddered and trembled, mindlessly gurgling and moaning as
fire rippled up and down her spine. The pleasure was a huge,
towering thing that swamped her senses and shook her body to the
core of her being. She felt light-headed, felt her chest tighten,
her vision blurring.

     Then the come eased, and she felt a glorious, languorous
sexual bliss gripping her. She moaned and let her eyes close, her
body hot, her muscles weary, her heart still pounding.

     And yet Paul was not finished. He still held her ankles
pressed back against the sides of her head, and his cock continued
to thrust down into her as his hips bounced her ass up and down.

     She was aware of this, and accepted it in a warm, soft,
happiness, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm.

     Yet still he plunged his tool down into her, and she felt the
stabbing pinpricks of heat breaking through her all-encompassing
bliss. She whined unhappily as the delightful comfort of her body
was forced away, and she was brought back fully into the muscular
aches and pains, the discomfort of her position, and the bruising
impact of his hips against her soft, upturned buttocks.

     Could she complain? Could she tell him to hurry and finish?
No. She couldn't. How could she? Surely he wouldn't be much longer.

     Yet he continued to drive his tool down into her, fucking, if
anything, harder.

     Then, much to her surprise she felt a tingling in her crotch,
down deep in her lower belly, down where his cockhead was punching
repeatedly into her cervix. It grew and spread, sliding up her
pussy to the mouth, setting her clitty tingling, then seeping
through her belly and up to her chest.

     She felt her breasts ache with wonderful pleasure under the
repeated grinding of her legs, and felt her heart begin to race
again. She was shocked, stunned, for to her this was impossible. An
orgasm was, after all, often known as a climax for the very good
reason that it was the peak, and the end of things.

     Yet her body was rapidly being swept back into the sexual
whirlwind she had just emerged from. That had never happened
before, nor did she think it was possible.

     She lay there in stunned amazement, her aching body throbbing
with sexual heat as Paul drove his cock into her depths with near
savage fury, thrusting down with all his weight, his hips cracking
loudly into her ass cheeks. It was crude, violent, raw....fucking.

     Fucking. She was being fucked. Now she understood the true
meaning of the word. Making love certainly was no description for
this. This was not having sex, or screwing. This was fucking. She
was being fucked...hard!

     She heard herself say the word, whispering it.

     "fuck," she breathed.

     "Fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck..." she whispered, chanting it
almost as a mantra, not even knowing she spoke aloud, each word a
gasp of pleasure timed to his brutal thrusts.

     "Fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck..." she gasped. "Ooohh
FuuuuuuuUUUUCCCCKKKKK! OOOhoH! OUUNNNGHH!
UUUUOOOOOHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAGGHHH!"

     A second orgasm swept over her, ripping her thinking to
shreds. Heat flared up along her nervous system, blasting along her
body like raw, molten lava ripped from cracks in the earth. She
screamed...for the first time in her life she screamed in pleasure,
helpless, massive, shocking pleasure that swept her out of the
world and into its own embrace.

     Nothing existed, nothing mattered, nothing but the pleasure.
Caught in a howling, roaring hurricane of ecstasy she bounced and
jerked like a spastic doll, blinded, deafened, she neither knew nor
cared what was going on, what was happening to her. She turned and
twisted and rolled in a vast pool of boiling water, her body
steaming as it consumed her. Yet the water was inside as well as
out. She held her mouth wide, felt the bubbling, churning ecstasy
in her lungs and belly and groin, and threw senses wide to it.

     She woke to Paul slapping her face lightly. He had some water
and his hand was wet. She blinked her eyes, slowly trying to bring
her sight into focus.

     "Pa....Paaulll," she whispered.

     "Thank God! Are you all right?"

     "I...I...oohhhhhh."

     "You passed out."

     "I...I did?"

     "Fainted," he said, his worry disappearing now, slowly being
replaced by a certain arrogant pride.

     "Oh my Gooooood," she moaned, bringing her hand up to her
face.

     "I was...uhm, kind of worried."

     "I..." She turned her head, then raised herself up on her
elbows. Paul helped her sit up, and put another pillow behind her.

     "Jesus," she sighed, shaking her head. "Oh man!"

     "I uh, guess you liked it, huh?" he said with a grin.

     "I never felt anything like that in my life!" she breathed,
staring at him in wonder.

     "Well..." He shrugged nonchalant, feeling even more proud and
cocksure.

     Paul was not the kind of guy who'd ever bragged much about his
sexual conquests, and he certainly spoke seldom, if ever about his
sex life with Jamie. But the very notion of her coming so hard she
fainted made his head swell, and he longed desperately to call up
his friends and tell them how he'd fucked her unconscious.

     There was a certain age-old male delight in possessing a
woman's body, a delight he'd seldom felt. Jamie was, after all,
hardly his plaything, his possession. She was as smart, as strong-
willed, and as successful as he was. She decided when they'd have
sex, and mostly how, and she shared in all other decisions.

     On the other hand, he had just fucked her unconscious! Though
he didn't think it consciously, the realization was there that if
he could fuck her unconscious he was, undisputable, the one in
charge. he was THE MAN. THE BOSS.

     "Christ, what did you do to me?" she groaned. "My back aches.
Ohhhh, my thighs."

     She gripped her inner thighs and massaged the strained tendons
and muscles. She felt bruised there, too.

     "I uh, I guess you made me so excited I got carried away," he
said glibly.

     "Fuck," she sighed. "I bet I have bruises tomorrow."

     She was so stunned at what had happened that she was trying to
shift the discussion away from it, away from her fainting from
pleasure, and on to his inconsiderate and rough sex.

     "I'm sorry," he said.

     "Forget it," she said, unable to look at him.     "Let's get
some sleep."

     "You uh, you liked it, huh?" he grinned.

     "Paul...yes. I...liked it. Can we get some sleep. I'm
absolutely exhausted."

     He wasn't annoyed. He knew very well what she was doing, why
she was shifting the discussion and blaming him. There was always
a very subtle struggle for power within a marriage like theirs, and
he had just won a mighty battle.

     He kissed her, then grinned and turned away, turning off the
light. He decided, though, to get a shot in before sleep.

     "Don't forget to tell your girlfriends about that," he said in
the darkness.

     Shit, she sighed to herself.

     What just happened, she asked herself. What was that? More
importantly, how can I get more of it?

     No, no, no! How can I regain control of my body. That's the
question. How can I experience pleasure without giving up my pride
and dignity. Jesus! I let him pin my fucking feet back behind my
ears!

     Do I really care? It is Paul, after all. I don't have anything
to hide from him. I love him and he loves me. If rougher, harder
sex feels so damned good why should I care about my bloody dignity?

     It was a long time before she fell asleep.

     The next day there was work, and lots of it, and little time
to wonder at what had happened, or care about her motivations. She
was able to get home not much after seven thirty, and tried, with
only a little success, to put it out of her mind as she and Paul
ate dinner.

     After dinner, both of them in their sweats, they sat on the
couch and watched TV, and talked a little, about work, about
friends. Not...NOT...about sex.

     Around eight he kind of pulled her over towards him, so they
were hip to hip, and kissed her affectionately. She tensed up
worriedly, her mind churning. Then he lifted her legs up and over
his lap as his arm went around her.

     "It's kind of early, isn't it?" she gulped, smiling
hesitantly.

     "Is it?"

     "It's..." she shook her hand out and looked at her watch.
"just past eight."

     "We have to wait until bedtime?"

     "Well..not...it's just that..."

     His lips slid onto hers and they kissed softly, then harder.
His tongue slid into her mouth, and his right hand moved between
her legs, rubbing up and down over her pussy.

     She wanted to push him away, to shove him hard and run into
the bathroom and lock the door. But she didn't. The memory of the
pleasure, the luscious, exquisite pleasure, was addicting, and she
wanted it more than she feared for her dignity and pride.

     A minute later he shifted her ass into his lap, then put his
arms under her and stood up, lifting her in the air.

     "Pauuulll!" she gasped.

     "Hey, you got no say in anything, woman," he growled.

     "Woman?" she stared.

     "I'm the man. What I say goes."

     "Oh, really?"

     He carried her into the bedroom and threw her on the bed, then
gripped her sweatpants and pulled them down her legs, flinging them
off the end of the bed. She stared up at him in confusion,
wondering what, if anything, she should do to reassert her
authority over their sex life.

     He knelt there between her legs, growling.

     He lifted the top of her sweats up, pulling her into a sitting
position, then yanking them off and shoving her back down on her
back naked.

     She laughed, as if in amusement, though her heart raced
anxiously.

     His hands closed on her wrists and he pulled them up above her
head, spreading them apart and putting his weight on them. She felt
a sudden throbbing need in her loins, along with a desperation to
say something, to remind him that she was his equal, that she was
a strong-willed, independent...mature...

     Then her body decided for her. This was something new and out
of the ordinary, and if it resulted in the kind of pleasure she'd
felt last night, and last week, then the hell with equality. Their
sex life had gotten boring, and she wasn't about to protest if some
kind of macho Tarzan act would liven things up to this extent.

     He straddled her body, his knees pressing against the sides of
her ribs, then let go of her left wrist and leaned forward, to the
right. She felt something against her wrist and turned her head up.
She saw, to her considerable shock that he was tying one of his old
ties around her wrist.

     "Paul!" she gasped in surprise.

     He ignored her, and her next words were drowned by a flood of
heat that seemed to make her body tremble with lust. He was going
to tie her up, tie her to the bedposts. That was so kinky! So hot
and sexy and...and carnal... and...

     She felt her heart beating faster. She stared upwards at him,
feeling the tie tighten around her wrist, then saw and felt the
length of fabric tugging on her wrist as he slid it around the post
and pulled tightly. He tied it off there, then leaned over to the
left.

     Again he produced a tie, wrapping it around her wrist. She
closed her eyes and shuddered, her mind spinning with wonder at
what he was doing, and at her reaction to it. How could she allow
this? How could she not?

     She felt the pull on her wrist as he cinched the thing
tighter, then he backed off, easing his weight back. He slid his
ass back onto her belly and let some of his weight come down on
her. She pulled repeatedly at the ties, excited by the lack of
give, by the tightness of the fabric against her skin.

     His hands moved up and down her upper body, rubbing and
squeezing her breasts, pinching and pulling on her nipples, then
sliding his hands up alongside her head. He ran his hands roughly
through her hair, then gripped it and jerked her head back a little
roughly.

     She gasped in pain as he leaned in and bit on her exposed
throat.

     "Oh!" she gasped. "M...Paul!"

     He jerked her head forward again, crushing his lips down on
hers, stabbing his tongue into her mouth as he growled. He backed
off, getting off her, then stood next to the bed. She saw the bulge
in his pants and the heat in his eyes, and knew he was as excited
by this as she was.

     He stripped off his top and pants, then, his cock sticking up
hard and erect, moved to the foot of the bed. He leaned over and
grabbed her right foot, then jerked it towards the lower corner
post of the bed.

     Jamie felt her heat rising higher still as she saw another tie
in his hands.

     "Oh, Jesus Christ!" she gasped, letting her head fall back.

     Her chest rose and fell as the excitement rippled through her.
They'd never done anything like this before, never
been...kinky...if that was the word. Last night must have affected
him, as well as her. Maybe he had felt more pleasure as well. Maybe
he had decided that this was the way she needed it, wanted it, that
she wanted him in complete control, wanted to be...fucked.

     He was tying her spreadeagled to the bed! The very words, the
very image of herself in her mind made her pussy drool with lust
and desire.

Continued in part 3...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It’s okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with strangers.
But it isn’t okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with strangers!!  You
only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 6