"Hank! You're hurting me!"
"So what? Take it off, baby!"
"Hank, stop this instant!"
Her tone only served to annoy him. He was too far gone in alcohol and frustration to bother to listen. He saw her walking, slinky and sexy, a real prick-tease, across the floor of the Matador with her ripely rounded buttocks twitching and her big beautiful breasts shifting, quivering and wiggling under her sweater. He saw all the bar-rail studs looking at her with one thing on their minds. Mentally they had all fucked her… and what was there for him – her husband? Now, this… this Shirley Temple nightie! He hooked his fingers in the collar of the gown and pulled, tearing the negligee down the front to her slender, ripely flaring hips. He caught glimpses of her voluptuously naked flesh beneath; her protruding musk-melon breasts so round and full, so quivering with softness and fleshy promise; her firm stomach that was curved out of ivory in subtle undulations and the "V" of her lush pubic mound. Everything – her stomach, her sleek young thighs that were as smooth and warm as a baby's skin – everything seemed to swoop and rush head-long to her loins where her plumply rounded mound of Venus was licked with a tongue of softly curling flame from her sparse red pubic hair!
The drunken engineer's breath came faster as he lurched after her. Kim backed against the wall, her hands and arms trying to hide her breasts that jellied in fright and her naked loins. "Hank, don't you dare!"
He grabbed her wrist and yanked her arm to one side with a brutal ease and her firm young breasts leaped free and quivered in front of his face and he half grunted, half-growled as be stared at her softly fleshed globes. Consistent with her flame-tousled complexion, her nipples were the palest of pink, delicate and finely formed.
It was with an animal savagery that he stepped forward and locked one burly arm around the terrified young wife's slender waist and squeezed, forcing her to bend over backward. Kim tried to protest, but his other hand was clamped over her mouth with a sudden force… and her head was forced back to where it crashed against the wall, causing her to see stars. She was pinned between his hard body and the wall, bent over backward from the waist while her lovely harvest moon breasts were nakedly free and tilting up to where his hot, moistly hungry mouth ravished them. He was close to going berserk as he greedily licked the distended little nipples. Clamping his voracious mouth over them he sucked hard and then bit down on them, feeling their berry-like buds respond, grow taut and buffeted as he rolled them around with his tongue and teeth.
The red-headed wife struggled with all her might, but her frantic squirming seemed only to excite the drunken engineer to more brutality and worsen her position. His powerful hips were being savagely ground into hers, and she could feel the growing hardness of his long thick cock under his pants. Her head was forced back and the negligee had slipped down, exposing her smoothly rounded feminine shoulders and breasts and at the same time, effectively pinning her arms at her sides. Kim's breasts were completely naked now and tilted toward the ceiling; they moistly glistened in the bedroom lamplight… wettened with hot saliva as his hungrily sucking mouth darted from one nipple to the other.
Finally the struggling young girl was able to turn her head to one side, freeing her mouth. "Hank, stop, it's me, Kim!" She knew he was drunk and didn't know what he was doing; she had to bring him to his senses! "It's me, Kim!"
"KIM!" He roared out her name and let go of her, stepping back and standing in a savage semi-crouch, looking at her and letting out a wild laugh, a laugh utterly devoid of humor and full of violence and ugly contempt.
Kim stood against the wall completely naked to her waist, her twin fleshy moons heaving for breath. She tried not to move… not to startle him. My God, he was beyond reason! His eyes were glassy and wild, glazed over with lust and alcohol. She had to get through to him. "Hank, wait a minute. Take it easy. It's me, Kim." She spoke softly, as if to a child or a growling dog she was trying to reassure. "It's Kim. Your wife. Remember? Take it easy. Wait a min…"
She never got a chance to finish her sentence, for she screamed, involuntarily, as he brutally seized her by the wrist and, with a strength she never dreamed he possessed, pulled her to him and then snapped her out, across the room, hurtling toward the bed. He snapped her with an incredible strength, tossed her as if she were a child on the end of snap-the-whip; she literally flew through the air until her knees hit the edge of the bed, and momentum flung her forward – down on her face and stomach to the mattress.
She bounced up from the sudden impact, but the aroused engineer was on her from the rear, his thumb and fingers clamping themselves on the back of her neck like steel bands. They hurt a lot, made her cry out and be afraid to move, as he forced her back face down on the bed. His other hand groped for the negligee and she felt and heard it rip as he impatiently clawed at it until he had torn every last shred away. Now she was pinned helplessly down on the bed, the covers rubbing against her nipples that were extraordinarily sensitive from his ministrations. His heavy breathing was a combination of things: alcohol, exertion, and a growing, yammering, exulting passion. A horny wildness was coursing through his blood and pounding on the iron-hard, heavily-flanged head of his cock that throbbed so hard that it ached.
He looked down at his wife, at the hollow of her back and the way it arched up to where her shoulder blades stuck out like incipient angel's wings. He stared, almost drooling, at the creamy whiteness of her flesh, at the fullness of it, especially the wonderfully extravagant way her ripely full buttocks blossomed into twin mounds of succulent white flesh that were now, before his eyes, squirming, and undulating before his eyes.
Making an animal sound in his throat, he lifted her head from the bed, causing her to arch her back even more. Two tiny dimples appeared in the middle of her supplely-fleshed ass cheeks.
With his mouth twisted into a drunken shark-like smile, Hank watched as Kim worked her hands and arms under her and pushed up slightly, taking some of the pain off her tortured neck. She winced and tried to hold her head erect as she gasped. "Hank, y… you… you are hurting… mmmmeee!"
It was a plea, a plea that ended in a squeal because he was hurting her. His neck hold was pressing against nerves, and she had to have some relief. She pushed against the bed with her hands and lifted her torso a little more. In so doing, her breasts were tightly squeezed between her arms, creating a deep warmly shadowed cleavage.
Hank was looking at the creamy twin cheeks of her buttocks and the darkly inviting crevice separating them. Watching them move and form with Kim's struggles to relieve the neck-pressure, the rapaciously aroused engineer gloated as he saw her flesh ripple and the buttocks go firm and full, firm and full! Damn, it was wild to see! Damn! Hadn't he always wanted to! Damn!
He was wildly drunk and driven by a real whorehouse abandon. He had always wanted to go to a brothel, he had always wanted to buy the whole fucking place out and get just drunk enough not to care… especially not caring because of the fore-knowledge that none of the prostitutes, no one in the whorehouse would ever see him again. With all that in mind, with all those things gong for him plus a pounding all-powerful horniness; with all those things going for him, he could, just once, let himself go and do as he damned pleased!
Over his wife's nakedly tormented body, he hooked his hands between her tightly clenched legs. Holding his fingers stiff, he drove it between her thighs while he held her pinned in place face down with his iron grip on her neck.
"Hank, my God! Pleeeeaaaasssseee!"
Alcohol drifted like smoke over his brain, and his temples pounded with the brutal lust he felt heatedly boding through his body and hammering in his groin. It was a good whore he had here on the bed and the night was his. Shit, they didn't even know his name in this cathouse. He could do as he pleased. Someday, he would confess to Kim that he had gone to a whorehouse this night, and that he had fucked a prostitute with wild flame hair who looked just like her. Yes! That was it, this bitch here looked just like his wife – his cold, frigid wife with about as much sex drive as a capon chicken!