This is a complete work of fiction.
Remember the difference between fantasy and reality is as fundamental as the difference between right and wrong.
This story happens some time after Posh’s Dilemma I and II and therefore all references related to but not explained in this story, or Retribution chapters 1 and 2, can be found in the “Dilemma” series.
******
"Slut?"
"Huh, what?"
"You called me ‘Slut’."
"I … if you don’t like it...”
"I love it," Victoria said breathlessly.
Shane smiled and his vision slipped slowly down her body and zoomed in on her panties. Much like her bra, Posh’s knickers were made of delicate, black lace. His cock could be contained no longer so, with a desperate urgency, he reached down and unzipped his fly.
Victoria staggered at the sight of his knob as it emerged. It was slender, but long and curved, and the head of it looked like a huge purple helmet. She wondered how it would feel plunging inside her. Posh stepped backwards to lean on the large oak table. She lifted herself up, and then, propped on her arms, thrust her groin forward.
"Take me, Shane. Please, take me."
Shane let his jeans fall and walked awkwardly towards her. Again he let his hands roam over her skin, her belly and her breasts, then her thighs. He couldn't get enough of the feel of her.
Fuck, he thought, is there anything that could feel more incredibly sensuous than a woman's flesh? Especially this woman’s perfect flesh.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of the brief, black panties and he drew them slowly down her legs.
"Shane, don't torture me any longer. Please ... please...”
He lifted his cock and let the head part her swollen lips, then he pushed himself against the soft pink folds of her pussy and shoved forward. Victoria made a strange lusty sound as he slipped the head of his long shaft into her. Then another slow, forceful push brought a sustained erotic groan from the magical creature that Victoria had become for him. He pushed his way deeper; lifting her legs until he could fill her no further.
He soon found a rhythm and his mind was riveted on one thing, the sensation of being inside her. Victoria arched her back and met his thrusts.
"Talk … talk to me," she said, groaning and sighing all at once.
"What? Talk?"
"Say things to me, Shane, I’ve been a naughty girl."
"But, but you're not … like that."
"Oh, Shane, make me a bad girl."
He looked down at her stomach, rippling both with each thrust and each subsequent withdrawal. An erotic pink flush spread across her chest as a manifestation of the state of her arousal. The sight of it made him crazy with lust. He heard himself saying the things she wanted to hear.
"So, you're a bad girl, Victoria?"
"Ohhhhhhh … yes!"
"A bad girl who takes her clothes off for men?"
She whimpered in reply.
He thrust more aggressively. "You dirty, nasty girl. Bad, wicked whore."
Victoria was losing control; her hands grasped the table then coursed through her dark hair. She was writhing as if she was in agony.
"Victoria, you're my bad girl, my naked girl. I'm inside you, Victoria. You know what I'm doing to you."
"Yes!"
"Say it, Victoria, say it you whore."
"You're … fucking me!"
Shane felt his balls preparing to explode; he knew that he couldn’t last. But Victoria was thrashing, twisting beneath him. She wrapped her legs around the small of his back, and, as she reached up, Posh dug her nails into his shoulders. She made small moaning noises and her eyes were glazed.
He tried to withdraw in order to maximise his thrust, but she held on fast to him.
"Don't stop … don't stop … don't!" she begged.
Her back arched and she thrashed her head from side to side. "Oh, Fuccckkkk!"
Shane saw her eyes flutter as another spasm racked her body and he howled his all consuming climax; and then she went limp.
Victoria laid, eyes closed, breathing raggedly. Shane lovingly pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes.
"Oh, darling," she sighed. "That was wonderful."
“It was for me too Tori …”
In a flash Victoria’s mood changed and she shoved Shane away, flinching as his semi erect length eased free of her dripping pussy, leaving a thick strand of white sperm behind connecting their bodies still despite his withdrawal.
“Did you get that?” she said curtly to the cameraman, glancing at the bulge in his trousers as she pushed briskly past him.