How could I know where this path would lead? She seemed like most any other woman. Yes, there was a strange depth to her, a mysteriousness about her sensuality. And when I first made the move, I was confident, brash, and sure of my own prowess as I swept her off her feet. But I had no way of knowing...
Oh that first night, the stolen blissful moments of that sultry Summer's night. Swaggering with cocky assuredness, I'd shown up at Mrs. M's door, ostensibly to borrow something or other, chat her up awhile. I realize now I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea what I was capable of doing.
It seemed so innocent. Our two bodies passing in that tight hallway by her pantry. A moment of high sexual tension and then my lips found hers. She whimpered, protested, I pressed my advantage. Sweet seduction, overcoming her resistance, enflaming her passions to where she couldn't help but give in to me, so reluctant yet so willing, drawing me in while pushing me way. I admit I was a bit brutal, lifting that white chemise dress, ripping her panties off, slamming her against the wall. I can still feel her cum dripping down my balls, a continuous stream of it.
Of course, I was the sailor and she the siren. Covered in sweat, panting, aglow in the aftermath of an explosive orgasm, I carried her to the bedroom and that damned black bed. Something about her brought out a predator's instinct in me. She played the victim so well, a woman swept away by the heat of the moment, giving herself completely to her cruel, demanding lover. And I...I played my part to the hilt.
At some point during that first night I went over, over to the other side, to the shadowy side of sexual compulsion. She lay face down, hips propped on a pillow, me driving my rod like a well-oiled piston into the everwet sleeve of her hot, gripping pussy, grunting like an animal as she gasped and cried out with each savage thrust. I began slapping her white fleshy buttocks as I pulled out, reveling in my power. She winced with each blow, but it was followed by a shudder of pleasure that shivered through her tiny frame. When I grabbed her hair to pull her head back and began pile-driving hard cock into soft cunt she seemed to rise to another level of passion altogether, cumming convulsively, her whole body spasming and rocking uncontrollably beneath me. My sense of power soared. I wanted to skewer her body on the spit of my cock, roast her in the flame of my passion, burn her on the altar of my desire. Cumming inside her churning, burning sluthole was the most intense experience of my life - up till then.
Afterwards she lay in a sort of aftershock with tremors rolling through her, my cock still hard and pulsating inside her spasmodically contracting vagina. There in the darkness, a sliver of moonlight casting a sheen on the black sheets, I felt myself slipping, slipping, reeling downward. I felt myself falling into her, pulled as though caught in a vortex.
Some time later she awoke and I was ready again. She gave me sexual powers I'd never tapped before. I tried this time making love to her, slow and gentle. But she dug fingernails into my ass. Then I was biting her nipples, pinning her arms to the bed and growling like a night beast. Watching her tits jiggle with the impact of my plunging pelvis crashing into hers I just let go and became the animal, unleashing a string of obscenities at her, at sex, at the night, at myself and the dark world I'd entered.
