Charles and Diana

Charles Richards stood up and took his wife Diana Maitland Richards' hand, pulled her up and against him from the side of the bed in their honeymoon suite in Vegas as he bent down to kiss her tenderly, and pressed her body against his. They were both naked from the waist up and he could feel her large, soft breasts crushed against his upper abdomen and his hard cock pressed against her lower abdomen; he suddenly realized how short she was not standing in her high-heeled shoes—just over 5 feet! When she'd had her shoes on, her breasts were against his lower chest and his cock had pressed against the front of her crotch—she was really short!

He was going to have to lay her down to get to her breasts easily, so he turned to the bed and threw the bedspread and top sheet to the other side of the bed, bent down and picked her up again and laid her on the bed as he said hungrily, "Now, where were we? Oh, yes...I still want to caress, kiss, lick and suck on your beautiful breasts. Is that alright with you?" She moaned and nodded in response, so he laid down next to her on her left, kissed her lips softly and then started to move his mouth down to her neck and shoulders. He trailed his lips and tongue over the soft skin on her shoulders, pausing briefly at the curve of her neck as he felt her shiver, and then goose bumps formed on her shoulder and down her arm. He raised his head to look at her and said, "I guess that feels really good to you!"

She barely opened her eyes and moaned at him, "You have no idea how good that feels!" She'd thought no other man but John Wayne, the big man, could send those tingles through her body when he kissed her neck and shoulder—God, how she'd missed that feeling! And it was even more intense when Charles did it, because his mustache just added to the sensation! She said another silent "Thank You" to God for His Mercy in sending her a man that was fully capable of making her not miss the big man so much any more. She almost started to feel guilty that she may have lied to Wayne; she was starting to feel that she wanted, needed and loved Charles as much as she did the big man, even though she'd sworn to him that no other man could make her feel the way he did.

She had truly believed it was impossible; and yet, here was a man who she knew absolutely was not John Wayne, who was very different from him in many ways, but they seemed to share some physical and personality traits that she so totally responded to as a woman. She still felt shocked at times that Charles had told her he'd only been with one other woman in his life; his ex-wife who had cheated on him! If he'd made love to his ex-wife like this, she thought the woman must've been a fool! She looked at him and said huskily, "Your ex-wife was a damn fool! How could she have cheated on you? You are so good at making me feel so sexy and desirable!"

He looked down at her as he started to caress her right breast and said softly, "She wouldn't let me make her feel like this...I had thought it was because we were both virgins when we married and that she didn't know how to just let herself be a woman and enjoy sex. I didn't realize until just before we split up that she had learned to enjoy sex with another man. I think the thing that pissed me off even more than the thought that she'd let another man take her in so many different ways, was that she hadn't even allowed me to show her that I could do better. I'd had so many images and fantasies of all the things I'd wanted to do to her and with her and she wouldn't even consider it. Her mother had her so screwed up by telling her that wives were only supposed to let their husbands fuck them to make babies—not to enjoy sex with them, that's what prostitutes were for—the stupid bitch!" he muttered fiercely.

Diana put her hands on the sides of his face and neck and stared into his eyes and said, "If we ever run into the stupid bitch, I'll tell her and show her what a goddamn fool she was. I'll drag the bitch home and make you fuck me in front of her so she can see what she missed out on! I'll make you tease her until she thinks that I would actually let you show her what she could've had with you—and then have you push her away at the last minute and fuck me instead, while I tell her that I've probably fucked way more men than she has and that you're, by far, the best lover I've ever had."

He'd started to caress her breasts more firmly as she described this little revenge scenario against his ex-wife—she was slightly sadistic—he liked that! Then he squeezed her nipples a little firmer and said, "And I'd tell her that I didn't care how many men you'd fucked before me because all that mattered to me was that I'm the last man who will ever have his dick in your pussy again." He felt a thrill go through him at the look on her face when he used such explicit words to say what he meant.

She was breathing heavily and moaning softly from what he was doing to her breasts, and when he joined in on her little revenge fantasy, it excited her that he was starting to loosen up and use a little more dirty talk with her. She looked up at him and groaned sexily, "I hope you plan to do more with your dick than just fuck my pussy." He widened his eyes slightly and asked what she had in mind, so she continued, "Well, I hope you plan to let me lick and suck on it, too." He smiled and nodded, and then she said, "And, of course, there's my ass..."

His hand on her breast stilled and he squeezed her nipple tightly for a moment as he stared at her in slight shock again. This was the one taboo that he'd asked his bitch ex-wife's lover about, and the bastard said he'd tried to get her to do it, but she'd refused. Charles had always believed that in order for a woman to let a man put his cock in her ass, she'd have to trust him implicitly—he'd read that one time in some forward-thinking psychological text on the intimacies of sex.

It had said that scientists in sexual studies had discovered that penetrating the anus could provide as much, if not more, pleasure for a woman than penetrating her vagina. The trick was getting past the sphincter muscles at the opening of the anus. The psychological text had indicated that, for a woman, trust in her partner was more important than any physical stimulation to relax the woman's sphincter enough to allow her partner's penis into her anus without any physical discomfort.

His eyes burned at her and he squeezed her nipple harder and growled jealously, "And just how many dicks have you had in your ass? I can't imagine from what you've told me about your past that you've been able to trust any man enough to let them fuck your ass! Tell me, Diana, how many?"

She was panting heavily with lust as his jealousy caused him to talk dirty and the slight pain he was inflicting on her nipple was making her pussy throb with excitement and desire. She growled back at him, "No dicks, just fingers and tongues—I had to find the right man that I could trust and with the perfect dick for my ass. And from the way your dick felt in my pussy earlier, I can't wait to feel it in my ass!"

He pinched her nipple hard again and groaned deeply, "Swear to me that you've never had another man's dick up your ass!" She moaned loudly and swore it. He bent his head down and sucked the tip of her right breast that he'd been squeezing painfully into his mouth, fluttering his tongue over the tip, and then released it and licked it firmly with his tongue; then he sucked just her hard nipple between his lips and nipped it softly with his teeth.

Suddenly, she arched her back as she groaned, "Oh, God!" and then her hips were undulating on the bed as the orgasm that had been building since he first started torturing her breasts over 30 minutes ago came ripping through her. He looked up at her in amazement as he realized she was coming, and he moved his left hand down under her slip and into her panties and put his fingers in her dripping, throbbing pussy. She looked at him and whimpered, and pleaded softly, "Make love to me now, Charles. Make me yours; tell me you'll never love another woman the way you love me!"

That was all he needed to hear. He withdrew his hand from her pussy, rose up on his knees and unzipped his pants and shoved them and his underwear over his hips and ass to his knees and kicked them off his legs while he leaned down and grasped her slip and panties and peeled them off of her hips. He heard her groan when she saw his hard cock as it sprang back up when it emerged from his underwear as he pushed them down. When he'd gotten her panties and slip about half-way down her thighs and had a clear view of her crotch, he groaned deeply when he saw the soft, golden hair on her mound—she was a true blonde—it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen, other than her face.

He finished peeling her slip and panties down her legs as he moved down by her feet. As soon as her legs were free of her underwear, she bent her knees and spread her legs and held her arms toward him as he crawled up over her, pausing to plant a soft kiss on her golden mound. She wrapped her left arm around his torso and wrapped her right hand around his hard cock to guide him as he entered her, slowly sliding his throbbing 8-inches of hard, male flesh into her tight, wet pussy...he knew this was where he belonged, and she knew she'd lied to the big man—she craved Charles' beautiful, long cock as much as she had his huge, thick shaft.

The feelings were incredibly different; the thrill from the big man's cock had been the feeling of such complete fullness from being stretched open so much, but Charles' cock was longer and the ease of the deeper penetration gave her just as much of a thrill. She arched her back as she felt the head of Charles' cock deeper inside her than she'd ever been penetrated before and she couldn't stop herself from moaning, "Oh, God, YES! Oh, your cock feels so good inside me! Fuck me, my love! Do to me whatever you've been imagining since you first saw me!"

Charles groaned, "Oh, God, Diana! Your pussy feels so tight and wet and warm. I want to just stay like this inside you. Oh, God...I always knew it could feel like this! You belong to me now and I could never love another woman the way I love you!" He looked down at her and asked huskily, "I'll bet every man who's ever been inside you felt like your pussy was made for them... did any of them tell you that?" as he looked at her hotly with no apparent anger.

She said softly, "Only one other man told me that. The rest all had condoms on, and their dicks weren't as big, so I don't think it felt as good to them. That's why I only allowed them to fuck me once, because none of them could satisfy me. But I'll take your beautiful, long cock inside me whenever you want! I'll do whatever you want me to do, and whenever you want me; just tell me—I'm yours! Oh, God, Charles! Just fuck me...please!" she moaned desperately as she closed her eyes and rolled her head back and forth.

He'd never known the sight and sound of a beautiful, horny woman begging him to fuck her could be so...so...empowering! She made him feel like such a powerful, sexy man, and it drove his lust and made him want to fuck her senseless so she'd never think about John Wayne or any of those other men ever again. He pulled his dick out of her slowly, and kept the head right at her entrance as he barely moved his hips, rubbing the tip on her pussy lips until she whimpered, and he growled hotly, "Look at me, Diana. Who am I?" he asked her when she half-opened her lust-filled eyes.

"You're my sexy, new husband, Charles!" she moaned.

He plunged deeply into her with a hard grunt, making her groan loudly, and he said sexily, "Good. That was a good answer. And who else am I?" he asked as he pulled slowly out of her again to rub the tip of his dick on her soft, slick labia and clit. When she frowned in confusion, not sure what he wanted her to say, he growled between grunts as he started to plunge hard and deep into her, "I am the...last man...you will ever...fuck again! You are mine! ...I own you now... body...heart...and soul! You... belong...to me! Show me how much my dick pleases you...cum for me!" He started slamming his hips into her as she thrust hers back against him.

He felt her back arch as her pussy tightened on his dick, her head rolled upward and her mouth was open in a silent scream. Then he felt her pussy start to throb on his dick as she moaned loudly, and he kept thrusting into her as her body writhed beneath him because he felt an orgasm coming. His hips bucked hard a couple times and then he slammed his hips against hers and left his dick buried in her as deeply as he could while several spurts of semen shot inside her with the last few throbs of her pussy, while he growled loudly through his gritted teeth. He'd never had such intense orgasms before in his life—but then he'd never felt a woman's pussy pulsing on his dick, or a pussy that stays as tight as hers!

As he collapsed on top of his beautiful, sexy new wife, he remembered back to the only other times he'd ever felt something this tight on his cock. The first was on his first wedding night when he'd taken his ex-wife's virginity; she had whimpered in pain and then cried afterward because she said it had hurt. He'd tried after that night to do everything she would let him as foreplay to turn her on...kissing her neck and softly caressing the sides of her breasts, running his fingers lightly in her slit. He'd discovered strictly by accident that her clitoris was the only way to make her orgasm when she'd gasped and her hips bucked when he'd been stroking it for a couple minutes on one of the last nights of their honeymoon.

It was her first orgasm and it scared her; he tried to convince her that that was what was supposed to happen, and when he'd asked her if it felt good, she'd been embarrassed to admit that it had and told him that it made her feel ashamed to feel like a slut. He'd tried to make her see that, because he was her husband, it in no way made her a slut to enjoy him giving her an orgasm—it was what husbands and wives were supposed to do for each other!

Then she'd told him that her mother had said the only thing a wife was supposed to do was let her husband put his sex organ inside her to make babies, and that if the husband wanted to do more than that, then she should tell him to go find a prostitute to satisfy his other urges! He'd been astounded to hear that; he'd known her mother was strict, but he had no idea that she'd been such a prude and had filled her daughter's head with that kind of nonsense!

It had taken a couple years of religious and psychological counseling to convince his ex-wife that she could try to relax and enjoy sex and that she was not acting like a slut. But she still wouldn't have sex very often, only a few times a month, and the only thing she allowed him to do was to try to give her an orgasm with his fingers and then let him fuck her until he came.

And he wore condoms most of the time because they had agreed they didn't want children until he was out of college and med school and had a steady job. He'd hated the thought of condoms because he'd been raised in the Catholic Church and they were not an approved method of birth control according to the Church; but they couldn't use the "rhythm method" because his ex-wife told him she knew nothing about her female cycle and she refused to learn anything about it.

The few times she allowed him inside her without a condom had been because he'd begged her once to let him feel what it was like not to have that barrier between them—and once he'd felt the difference, he'd beg her every so often to let him do it again, always promising to pull out of her before he came. Then he'd had to beg her to use her hand to help him reach orgasm. It had seemed like he was always begging her for sex!

Little did he know that the counseling had not taught his ex-wife that she was only supposed to enjoy sex with him; she had taken it to mean she should be enjoying sex, but her mother's voice still rang in her ears about not letting her husband give her pleasure. So she'd gone elsewhere for sexual fulfillment, never letting on to him for 5 years that she'd been fucking another man on the side. He'd been so busy studying psychology and psychiatry in med school the last several years of their marriage, that he hadn't been studying her; if he had, he might've gotten a clue sooner as to what she was up to.

But then, not quite a year into his job with the FBI, building his skills as an observer of people's behavior, he'd finally picked up on something different about her, and he'd used his interrogation skills to finally wheedle her into a confession. She'd told him at that time that she'd only done it once a few years back and that she'd known it was a mistake right away and she hadn't done it again. He'd been terribly hurt, but she'd seemed remorseful so he did his best to forgive her and tried to get on with their life.

But he had some anger issues come up because of her infidelity and he started blowing up at her, ranting at her until she'd start crying; and then one night she blew up at him and had screamed through her tears, "I shouldn't have to take this shit from you! He'd never treat me this way!" That's when he'd grabbed her arms and shook her until she'd told him who HE was and where he lived. The address she gave him was for an apartment not far from their house in Washington that the bastard had been renting for the two of them to meet for sex, and that he'd called her earlier that day and had asked her to come to him if she could get away.

Well, that was all he'd needed to hear! He took her and locked her in their bedroom so she couldn't get to the phone and call the bastard to warn him. That's when he'd taken his gun, beaten the shit out of the bastard and made him tell everything they'd been doing. The man had been almost as big as he, but the bastard was several years older and not in very good shape, and Charles had had rage on his side so he'd easily beaten the bastard. He'd derived immense satisfaction when he'd stuck his gun in the man's face and the wimp bastard had started to cry and beg for his life.

It was the first time Charles had ever used such language, but he'd cursed that bastard and his ex-wife as he'd forced the details out of him. "You lousy bastard...what the fuck gives you the right to be sticking your dick in my wife's pussy? How long have you been fucking her?" Five years, the bastard had squeaked. "How many times have you fucked her?" He hadn't been keeping count! "Do you use condoms when you fuck my wife?" No. Charles smashed his knee into the man's groin making him almost double over and growled angrily, "You fucking bastard! I ought to cut your dick off! When was the last time you fucked her?" Two days ago. THE BITCH! He hadn't fucked her in over two weeks!

"How many different ways have you fucked her?" Lots of different ways he'd whimpered. This was when Charles had cocked his gun and stuck it in the bastard's mouth and said menacingly, "You nod yes or no as I name some, understand?" Yes, he'd nodded. "In bed?" Yes. "On other furniture?" Yes. "The couch?" Yes. "A chair?" Yes. "A table?" Yes. "The shower?" Yes. FUCK! Was there anywhere they didn't? "Have you fucked her from behind?" Yes. "Does she like to be on top?" Yes. "Have you put your TONGUE in her pussy?" Yes. "Have you put you DICK in her mouth?" Yes. "FUCKING BITCH!" he'd roared, as the man flinched in terror.

He'd grabbed the bastard's collar tighter and said quietly, "I wouldn't flinch too hard if I were you...you might accidentally make me pull the trigger...that wouldn't be good for you!" Then he'd had a sickening thought, "I'm going to ask you a couple more questions and you'd better tell me the truth, because if I find out you lied about this, I'll come back and kill you! You understand?" The bastard nodded with his eyes wide. "Did you ever put your nasty dick in my wife's ass?" He shook his head no very fast. "Did you try to?" A slow nod yes. "Well, at least the bitch held something back from you, too. But, I can change that!" He'd left the bastard with the warning that if he tried to have him arrested for assault he'd be sure to tell everyone exactly why he'd assaulted him—he was sure the bastard was someone who wouldn't have wanted this type of thing widely known.