That was where the video started, the one he posted on her Facebook wall. Curiosity got the better of her and she clicked on "Play".
The video buffered and instantly she was transported back to his loft. She could almost smell the café downstairs and the beats rising from the club across were clearly audible on the soundtrack. Anne was ashamed to hear herself slurring: "C'mon Michele, put down the camera and get over here." Her face was slightly out of focus, framed between her pale thighs. The foreground was dominated by her shiny wet pussy. Anne felt a wave of Calvinistic shame wash over her, as she saw herself stretching open her glistening folds with both hands. Her soon-to-be popped cherry was clearly visible and she was rocking her hips invitingly. Peeking over her little pointed tits, she licked her lips lasciviously and purred "I know you want this..." Anne felt sorry for her younger self, trying to act cool and failing horribly.
Michele set up the camera and his familiar figure came into view. Seeing him for the first time in years had an hypnotic effect on Anne. He stood at the foot of the bed and admired his young bride, who could clearly remember how exposed she felt. He was literally looking into her. She was always a bit scared of him, before she ever saw him losing his temper. Perhaps that was why she never stopped taking the pill. He took off his funky hat and shook out his long dreadlocks, his signature move. Green eyes twinkling, he slowly took off his t-shirt, clearly enjoying her undivided attention. On his back a phoenix rose from inked flames and spilled over into a tribal design covering his shoulders. His powerful chest was decorated with stylised flowers and indecipherable words, the lines rising and falling over the dark canvas of his hairless skin. Anne felt her gaze drawn downwards, from his toned abs past the colourful border of his boxer shorts and down to the intimidating bulge in his baggy jeans. He caught her staring and grinned.
His friends called him "Trépied" (Tripod) but still Michele's penis was bigger than Anne had expected. When he dropped his boxers, it hung down halfway to his knees. The dark shaft, sprouting from the base of his six-pack, looked almost as thick as one of her wrists (or his for that matter). Criss-crossed with superficial veins, his circumcised shaft was topped with a shiny purple head, the size of a small apple. Cocksure, Michele gyrated his hips, proudly swinging his dick.
Looking at it now it seemed hilarious, the over-confident little man with the oversized cock, but despite glasses of Dutch courage, younger Anne looked pretty scared on-screen...
Lots of kissing, a sensual full-body massage, another bottle of wine and a fat joint later, Anne was enjoying her first 69, enthusiastically riding Michele's face. She could not fit his dick into her mouth, but that did not stop her from licking, rubbing and stroking the monstrous thing to full erection. It became straight and hard, but thankfully not much bigger. Anne was surprised at its soft outer texture, supported by a rigid inner structure that felt like solid bone. Gripping it tightly with both hands, Anne could not imagine how it was supposed to fit inside her, but she was determined to try. Meanwhile Michele expertly teased, licked, sucked and slurped her pussy into a sopping wet mess, his face covered in her secretions.
After she had come for the second time, Anne felt ready for a nap but it was not to be. Michele rolled her over onto her back, and took position between her splayed legs. He slowly rubbed his fat cock up and down between her swollen lips, teasing her clit. Anne knew what was coming, but she was too far gone to be scared. Michele probed her entrance and she could feel her body resisting. He applied more pressure, the thin membrane stretching but holding. Anne held her breath. Again he thrust his narrow hips, his cock bending under the pressure. Anne squirmed uncomfortably. Something had to give. Michele met her gaze with a determined look, pulled back slightly and rammed his cock into her. Anne felt something tear and screamed out, but Michele kept the pressure on. She clawed at him and bucked her hips to escape, but he held her down and pushed until his tip was lodged inside her.
Her hymen torn, Michele allowed Anne to catch her breath. Every nerve-ending in her virgin slit was screaming somewhere between pleasure and pain. Anne remembered thinking that this must be what child-birth felt like, in reverse.
Michele gently resumed rocking his hips. Relentlessly he penetrated her tight canal, ever deeper. It was the weirdest feeling that Anne had ever experienced. It took her breath away as she was made aware of the depths within her own body. Deeper into her centre Michele probed, forcing her sheath to expand. Eventually he found the limits of her capacity and bottomed out against her womb, filling her completely. Anne looked down to their joined hips and could not believe her eyes: Only half of that fucking thing was inside her. Her pussy lips were pale, stretched to the limit and she could feel his sack resting heavily on her anus.
Anne hit "Pause".
This was the very image posted on her Facebook homepage. Anne fought the rising tide of anger. He wanted to hurt her, like she hurt his pride when she left. Anne could understand that. His legal options finally exhausted, Michele struck out with the only weapon left at his disposal. Childish, but understandable. The videos showed a woman making love to her husband. No shame in that. He is the one that should be ashamed for betraying her trust. Publishing her address was going too far though, that displayed a blatant disregard for her safety. He made a big mistake, one that she felt sure Katie would make him pay dearly for.
Despite her rational objections, watching the video had left Anne restless and her panties moist. Michele always had that effect on her. Glancing around discreetly, she sat up and reached under her skirt to slide her panties down. Lying back she gently opened her lips and softly ran her fingers up and down the middle of her wet cleft, dipping into her pussy. She lengthened her strokes to spread her juices over her clit and started tracing circles around it. It felt liberating to sit out in the sun and masturbate. The circles morphed into a spiral and she had to concentrate to stop herself from moaning out loud, when her fingerprint first raked across her nerve-rich nub. She carefully pressed down and a delicious shiver passed through her body. Deciding to share an orgasm with Michele for old time's sake, Anne put on her headphones, turned up the volume and again pressed "Play".
"Are you OK?" Michele asked. She managed a weak smile, and he kissed her lips tenderly. "The worst part is over. It only gets better from here." Another gentle kiss. "OK Mon Cherie, close your eyes, and take a deep breath... hold it... Now exhale and relax... Again..." Anne remembered being acutely aware of the warm foreign object filling her, but she followed his instructions, and with each deep breathe she felt herself relaxing and slowly opening up. Her aching body adjusted to the invasion and somehow it just felt right. She felt at peace, one with her lover.
"Hold on tight" he whispered in her ear and slowly started moving again. At first almost imperceptibly alternating pressure, but slowly increasing the length of each stroke, until he was effortlessly sliding in and out of her as far as possible. Her arms and legs wrapped around his body, Anne felt his velvety glands rubbing across every ridge inside her, her walls expanding and contracting as he smoothly plumbed her inner space.
Anne was mesmerised by the screen in her hand. The stark contrast between the muscled dark-skinned man and the skinny pale girl clinging to him was really quite striking. The flickering candle-light added a measure of romance, and the camera angle was expertly chosen to flatter them both. Clearly Michele didn't win those awards for nothing. His round buttocks rose and fell in a smooth continues motion which Anne could not help but match with her hand. Clearly Anne remembered wishing that glorious feeling would never end, it was the moment when she first understood what made sex great.
Suddenly Michele stopped, postured up and pulled back until she could feel his swollen glands between her labia, at the point of popping out. Disappointed, Anne looked down between them and her face showed her alarm at the harsh sight of his bloodied cock protruding from her loins. As she watched, he slammed it back up her cunt, right to the hilt. Anne felt her pliable flesh stretch to accommodate him. The thrust was punctuated by a sharp clap as their flesh met, his balls slapping against her arse-hole. Michele's pelvis ground down on Anne's clit, sending a shock wave through her body. Anne's eyes rolled back and her mouth opened, but no sound came out. As he pulled out again, she frowned like she wanted to protest, but he thumped his cock right back into her, and all that came out was a low groan. Each hard thrust shook her to the core, and the bed rattled in sympathy. Faster and faster he pounded into her until he hit top speed, pistoning in and out of her in a sweaty blur, dreadlocks whipping her face. Her pussy started making obscene sloshing noises and milky juices soaked her crotch and gushed down her thighs. Soon Anne could no longer distinguish individual thrusts, her mind and body numbed by the overwhelming blaze of sensations.
Sitting by the pool in Tuscany, Anne was furiously finger-fucking herself while roughly rubbing her clit, matching Michele's demonic pace. Then, right on cue, a new feeling surfaced, just like the one she remembered so vividly.
From small beginnings in the pit of her stomach and the back of her knees, the feeling spread and grew until it pushed everything else aside. Pain, fear, guilt and shame melted away until there was only lust. Filthy, low down, scandalous, animal lust. Anne saw something change in her younger self: She grimaced and began thrusting back at Michele, meeting him and angling her hips to allow him to enter even deeper into her flooded centre. She gyrated her hips in the instinctual mating dance, willing him on. "FUCK ME!!! Oooooooh... HARDER!! Right there, YES!!! HARDER!!! Oh, YES! FUCK ME! YES! YES!" she chanted in time to his movements. Her hips were moving automatically, in perfect time with Michele's. Anne felt as if she was outside her body, looking down.
Anne's phone dropped on the rough flagstones, but she couldn't care less. In her ears Michele and young Anne were belting out the duet of love, stoking her passion.
Suddenly the feeling flared up, exploding out of proportion. It enveloped her. She lost her rhythm. Her pelvis tightened and her muscles locked up. Michele was unaffected and kept on ploughing her cunt like a man possessed, each unbearable thump on her clit making her cramp tighter. She could feel her pussy gripping his cock. Hard. Michele's breathing became ragged and his thrusting irregular. He slowed to a jerky pace. One. Two. Three. Four. Anne counted his thrusts until he too went rigid, his cock jammed up inside her. His body trembled, and he uttered a curse. He squeezed her tits painfully hard and Anne felt the sensation arc to her clenched pussy. His cock swelled... It felt as if time stood still... Looking into his eyes, Anne saw Michele's pupils dilate... His cock twitched inside her and his whole body shuddered... Again his cock spasmed, blasting a jet of hot seed against her womb. Each spasm brought another thick jet of sperm, filling her with primal satisfaction. The tension in her crotch eased, allowing her to breathe. It came out as a long moan. Spasm after the spasm rocked her world with a flood of dopamine, an explosion of blinding colour, shaking her whole body. Gradually the waves subsided and an overwhelming rush of emotions brought tears to her eyes. Michele collapsed on top of her, gasping for air.
