Homecoming The Hit Man And His Woman Ch 02

Dontrell carried the tray of food to their room and set it on the dresser. Her plate was piled high with scrambled eggs, several strips of bacon, small warm blueberry muffins, and, of course, grits on the side. He knew she'd be starving, if she would ever wake up.

Azela slumbered peacefully in their luxurious bed. She had no idea that her man had decided to bring breakfast to her in bed. She also had yet to find out how sore her body was from the stern fucking he had given her the night before.

As if sensing her body's tenderness, Dontrell eased it the only way he knew how: with his mouth. Slipping into the covers, he moved down the length of his naked girl, and took his breakfast between her legs. Spreading her thighs gently, he placed his mouth on her pearl and massaged it with his tongue.

Azela stirred immediately and opened her eyes with a mixed look of confusion and delight dancing across her sleepy face. She peered down at his handsome face pressed into her warm center. She saw and felt his wide tongue lapping at her, his big lips kissing her folds, his white teeth nibbling on her. Pleasure washed away the slight pain her pussy retained from the reaming it received a few hours earlier. The head he gave her actually made her crave more stiff cock. She wanted to be fucked again.

The sensation was overwhelming and she moaned loudly as he penetrated her with his tongue, his finger, then finally his dick. He realized her pussy must have been swollen on the inside too because it was harder to cut into than usual. He leaned on his hand, halfway over her, and took the wide head of his cock and struggled to push it into her tight hole. She cried out as it popped past the entrance. Once in, he slid it slowly deeper into her and crushed the tip at the top of her cunt.

She groaned loudly as his hard rod pierced her bruised cervix. Wetness gushed from inside her. The pain was the good kind, the kind that made her want more to be inflicted upon her.

He slid his huge knob all the way out and back in again. As he loomed over her small body, he watched her intently while sexing her. She lay flat on her back, grabbing for him, trying to pull his arched body down to hers, trying to close the distance between their bellies. He messed up her grip on him each time he thrust forward. He moved himself in and out a little faster, still gentle, trying to control the urge to fuck her brains out. He really tried to give it to her sweetly, but her response drove him over the edge.

Azela unleashed his need for rough sex with her quiet commands. "Ohh…god, oh 'Trel, oh…harder…hit it, hit it," she moaned. "Take it."

He straightened up, pulling her wide-open center to his hips. He violently pulled and pushed her hot pussy from himself, partially forgetting that a woman was attached. Then he took her ankles and pushed them far back behind her, making her pussy completely vulnerable to however he was going to treat it. Leaning his weight on her, he repeatedly slammed his cock into her. "This what you want… huh… this what you need?" He muttered through gritted teeth.

She cried "yes" to all his questions and felt herself close to orgasm. Her body shook uncontrollably and spasms flowed through her uterus. As her intense pleasure subsided, she felt his urgent thrusts signaling his approaching climax. "Feed me," she breathed, smiling coyly up at his concentrated expression. She parted her lips.

Just the thought of sinking his pussy-covered cock into her mouth and unloading, sent his cum hurling towards the head. He leapt out of her and shoved his wet dick into her waiting mouth that was so eager it met him halfway. She took the whole nine-inch pole down her throat and gulped his sticky fluid. His woman didn't waste a drop.

Azela sucked his softening dick for a couple minutes as he caught his breath. His hand was still at the back of her head, lightly massaging the scalp. He looked down at her content face; her eyes closed pleasantly, her mouth full of dick and balls. She made such dirty things look angelic.

"You still hungry?" He smirked at her nodding head. "Look what your boy made you." He pulled his cock from her lips and got off the bed to show her what he had prepared. "I'll warm it up." Before he left the room, he kissed her mouth, each breast, her stomach. He tongue kissed her kitty a couple times and gave her ass a hard smack. It jiggled sexily. One more kiss on the lips and he headed for the kitchen, tray in hand.

Azela watched his firm, muscular ass as he left the room. Her pussy felt so good. She leaned back in the pillows, touching herself absentmindedly, smiling to herself. She was so happy he was home. Her hand fluttered to the jewels around her neck. How long before he left her again?

She remembered one time when she gave up that he would ever return. He had been gone for six weeks. Only two letters in the first three weeks. No calls. There were never any calls. His letters always described the same things: his love for her, how much he missed her, what he had bought for her, the nasty things he wanted to do to her, asking if she loved him and how much (even though he knew she couldn't write him back and tell him these things), he'd ask her to run small errands, visit his mother, abstain from using her vibrator as much as possible so that she was nice and tight for him when he returned. He never talked about his surroundings, the people, his activities, where he stayed, and especially, what he did. His letters never carried any postage. They were always hand-delivered by one of his guys. One of the guys he had watch over her, she assumed.

That time he was gone six weeks, Azela cried almost every night after the first month passed. She was sure he was detained, dead, or worse: with someone else. She tried to carry on as normal. She invited her parents over, excusing Dontrell's absence due to "business." (Not a lie in the least. He did take care of business, just not the type that Azela's folks believed her daughter's attorney boyfriend handled. Maybe not law, Dontrell reasoned, but he dealt with justice no doubt.) As soon as they left, she was filled with loneliness again. She tried to study her real estate books but only ended up sleeping in his shirts and writing him letters she could never send. They didn't go to waste though. When he returned, he would read and re-read her letters the times she was away at her real estate class or doing pilates at the gym. The love that poured from her letters secured him. The ones she wrote him when she was desperate made him hard.

Baby, I miss you so much. I miss everything… your voice, your kisses, your sexy body, your manhood. Come back and love me. If you would only come back, I'd do anything you wanted. ANYTHING. I'd take your penis in every place I have. Even…back THERE. ~giggle~ I'll swallow your juice, just like you want me to. You can let go inside me. If I get pregnant, I promise I'll give you a healthy child. Just come home.

An hour after he had read that, she came home from exercising in her sexy tight aerobic pants and stretchy tank top. He couldn't keep his hands off her as she made her way to the shower.

"Why are you so excited?" She laughed and peeled off her clothes, revealing her tight little body. Her tanned olive skin glowed from the workout.

"I want you." His black hands rubbed her soft tits and ass; her pussy started getting aroused. "You love me?" His chin rose suspiciously with the question.

"Of course!" Azela's tinkling laugh hardened his dick even more. "Let's take a shower. Take your clothes off." She squeezed the lump at the front of his jeans, then stepped into the shower and turned on the spray.

He watched water slide down her body as he dropped his pants and pulled off his shirt. He stepped into the shower behind her and began running his hands over her breasts and between her legs. "Bend over," he whispered in her ear.

She did. He plunged into her from behind and took his fill. Water made her ass slip against his hips. His balls wetly slapped her pussy lips. He dug into her deeply and firmly. She came violently. Still gasping for air and her hair hanging wet and limp around the sides of her face, Azela felt him jerk his dick out of her cunt and press the fat head into her ass. He filled her butt with cum.

"You're gunna love this, girl." Dontrell's reappearance in their room snapped her out of the memory. He carried their meal to the bed.

They ate heartily while talking and half watching music videos. They laughed and poked fun at each other, play pushing and kissing between bites. Anyone watching might be misled into assuming the normalcy of their situation. In many ways, they were normal. What's normal anyway, right? Each time they reunited, even after long spans of time, they carried on as if they never missed a step. They were forever first loves that never seemed to fall out of love. True love. If anyone's love had ever been real, it was theirs. Oh yes, their love was true.

In all the years they had known each other, Dontrell only failed his woman once. This was back at their old pad, less comfortable, more vulnerable to identification. He knew he had fucked up, let the target escape. He didn't expect that Azela would have to compensate for his error. But she did. And she paid with her pussy.

The wire that nearly strangled him to death kicked off his homecoming on that particular evening. No sooner had he walked in and he was attacked, in the dark, by his employer. His employer and a helper, of course. The helper gagged him into compliance and led him to the bedroom. Dontrell nearly killed himself by lunging forward when he saw his girl crying incessantly, dressed in negligee, backed into the corner of their room. A gun was pointed squarely at her.

Boss expressed his disappointment with the job, complained about the harassment, the monetary losses, the lashings to his reputation. He had planned on holding Dontrell liable, that is, until he laid eyes on the angel he now held at gunpoint.

Several real tears slid out of Dontrell's eyes as he watched her drop her sexy nighty and step out of her satin panties. He knew she was doing this because she feared they'd kill him and felt she had no other choice. He knew she thought surrendering her body was honorable when it was for the sake of her man's life. Even so, he wished they had let him die, rather than make him watch the raping of his girl and being without the power to save her.

She cried silently as Boss took his time fondling her breasts, kissing her neck, and poking his fingers in her holes. He violated her in three positions, lasting over an hour total. At first he pulled her ass to the edge of the bed and fucked her slowly, while she laid on her back, staring straight up at the ceiling. Then he took her from the back, making her respond yes when he called her 'whore.' Lastly, she rode him and had to endure him kissing her lips, looking her in the eyes. He unloaded on her face, the cum sticking to her dried tear stains.

As slimy as he was, Boss was a man of his word. Dontrell's "debt" had been paid. The lovers got to live. Even so, they declined attending his funeral three weeks later. Boss's body was unexpectedly found by LAPD searching for an 18-pound stash of cocaine. His body was mangled. Stabbed twelve times. And one bullet wound; a single shot to the groin.

That night, after Boss and helper left, Dontrell was careful with her. He held her gently. He caressed her cautiously. One part of him, the angry part, wanted to rip open her legs and fuck her brutally. Not because he wanted to pain her anymore, but for reasons that had more to do with the threat to his masculinity than to her subjective experience of her sexual attack. He had just watched another man enjoy his woman's body. He watched Boss's mouth on her breasts, his hands on her ass, his cock up her pussy. These images, these memories, would forever drive him mad if he didn't erase them with his own aggression, his own governance over his woman's body, his own authority to dick her whenever and however he pleased. He felt the urge to reassert his power, and undo Boss's power, over Azela.

But as he stared at how she was curled up in a fetal position and how she either stared blankly or cried with her eyes closed, Dontrell couldn't bring himself to do things that might remind her of how she was violated.

Instead, they bathed together. They took baths every night for almost two weeks. He didn't push sex on her, even though his dick hardened each time he slid his soapy hands over her wet body, washing away her pain.

On the eleventh night, she surprised him by stroking his throbbing dick underwater. It was the first sexual advance she had attempted since before his unsuccessful trip that had brought him home that night. Without saying a word, she straddled him and slowly let his meat sink into her.

"Yeah," he breathed gratefully. "Oh yeah, girl, that's it…" He watched her ride him steadily. He took each breast entirely in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the nipples. His hands gripped her ass tightly as it moved up and down his thick rod.

Water sloshed out of the tub. Color rose in her cheeks. Emotion seeped back into her response. Her breathing quickened. She clung to him and fucked him passionately.

"Take me to the bed."

Laying her down on her back, Dontrell pushed open her knees and dug into her gut. He gazed at her sexy wet body rock upwards, her breasts leap and fall, her chin tip up, each time he thrust forward into her spread legs. He watched her pretty face, looked into her seductive eyes. He loved her. And he knew it.

He reassured her of his love that night. Climbing on top, he kissed her slowly while shoving himself into her over and over.

She cried quietly as he made love to her.

"I'm sorry…sorry, Baby…so sorry…" he murmured, nuzzling her neck, fighting back his own tears. He burrowed his dick deep into her abdomen and let himself go.

Cum still oozed out of her as he turned her onto her stomach and lifted her ass to his waist. "I need to take you back," he asserted in a low voice, tightening his grip on her hips. He drove his hard cock into her pussy from behind, making her buck forward and tense up. He repeatedly propelled his dick into her hole, plunging in hard and pulling out slowly, inch by inch. "It's mine, Baby…it's mine… tell me it's mine," he pleaded as she let out throaty moans.

"All yours, Baby. Take it. It's yours. Only yours. Take it from me. Take it. Take what's yours." Azela cried as he jackhammered her cunt.

"I'm your man," he breathed into her ear. "It's my pussy. Belongs to me. Your man. Give it to your man." He felt her back up her ass and open it wider to him. "Yeah, that's good. That's it. It's mine. No one will take it from you but me. I promise."

He has been reclaiming his woman's body ever since.