Editor's note: this story contains scenes of rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, or non-consensual sex.
*****
Beth crossed the dark guestroom and slapped me, snapping her hand across my left ear and cheek. I reeled away, half-falling to the bed. I caught her second swing, outlined, now, by the exterior lights.
"Beth!" I exclaimed and she stopped straining to strike me. "What the hell are you doing?"
Initially, she was silent, struggling to pull her arm from my hand. We both heard the low drone of the shower in the bathroom and she hissed at me, "You were mine." I pushed her away and flipped the lightswitch by the veranda door. A lamp on either side of the bed flickered to life. In the low light of the guestroom, I knew how I would look, naked, muscular and hairy, cock still slick from congress with her daughter. Beth, a gorgeous brunette, was flush, her face red and the magnificent swell of her breasts heaving beneath a fitting tan top. Dark skinny jeans cupped her curves and legs, the outfit terminating functionally in dark tennis shoes
"You're Tom's." I stated simply, laying a calming hand on the woman's shoulder.
A flash in her eyes- she was honestly angry, "We have an arrangement. Lacey, obviously, isn't a fucking part of it."
Shit. They were open. She'd just been fucking around teasing me, before. Uh, until I put it to their daughter. "Beth, she's an adult, we had some fun, there's no reason to be tense, I'm just your friend."
Oh, man, that was the wrong thing to say. Beth jerked, and snagged my wavering dick. Twisting sharply, she demanded, "How are you my friend? We trusted you as a neighbor, I -might- have wanted to screw you, and I catch you fucking my daughter? Is that what friends do?"
A moment after the sudden pain started, I wrapped a thick hand around Beth's throat and pushed her onto the bed. Her hand tightened until I squeezed her neck and both of her hands flew to my grip. The hot surge of adrenaline had me hard, and I momentarily felt the coarse denim of Beth's jeans beneath my cock. I was, now, choking a woman who had twisted my dick- after finding me nutting her daughter. What the fuck is my life?
I pressed Beth into the bedding and she made...the single horniest noise I've ever heard from a woman. Somewhere between a groan and a purr, she glared at me through slitted eyes. Her breathing was fast and straining. Her flushed cheeks and expression rattled a memory of a deeply submissive former partner. I suddenly suspected Beth had been out on the twilight veranda longer than her surging, violent response implied.
So, I did something insane. I didn't release her throat, but I did wrench her jeans down with my free hand. They slipped down her wide hips easily, the top buttons of her fly had been undone beneath the edge of her shirt. Beneath a tiny, lacey, tan thong, which peeled over her perfectly fat ass as I pulled her dark skinny jeans to her knees. The weird declaration of ownership over me, the teasing, the disheveled jeans, and uncharacteristic transition to physical violence, the absurd intimacy of having sought to punish my statement by grabbing my cock- her body wavered between fury and lust and was utterly betrayed by the musk of her ardor and dripping mess of her bald pussy.
Wordlessly- thoughtlessly, really- I stepped to the soft, exposed curve of her ass and ran the stone column of my erection over her cleft and clit. Her breath caught, her hands on my arm holding her by the throat drove long, perfectly manicured nails into my skin. I twisted my other hand in the knot of garments I held at her calves, soles of her tennis shoes held heavenward, restraining her entirely except for her hands. I pressed her legs back until her naked thighs were against her cream shirt, and her sopping pussy and ass were hoisted between us.
Her eyes widened and I shifted her until my cock matched the entrance of her vulva. And, then, I pushed. Her body resisted, the membranes of her labia dragging harshly over the still-sticky skin of my cock, but I withdrew and pressed until the dampness of her own arousal slicked my passage, and I was slapping steadily into Beth.
She released her painful grip from my arm and covered her face, grunting softly with pleasure and frustration each time my fat rod bottomed out entirely. I didn't just thrust, I hauled the mostly clothed woman to me as I drove and heaved her away as I withdrew. Her hairless, soaking cunt was, yet, unbelievably tight, gripping me obscenely as I used her roughly, soft ass and thighs rippled and bounced against the hairy muscles of my abdomen and groin.
Beth trembled abruptly, hands grabbing at my left forearm, again. Her eyes were clamped closed and face caught in an ecstatic rictus. I wondered, briefly, as her pelvic floor twisted even tighter around my intruding mass, if she was as sensitive as her daughter, post-orgasm.
I hugged her legs in my right arm and redoubled the pace. Her eyes opened wide and her mouth gaped in a ragged gasp. I ran my left hand up her neck, pressing a finger across her lips, shushing her with a meaningful tilt of my head towards the bathroom door, beyond which we could still hear Lacey showering. Then I twisted my fingers in her hair and began to slamfuck Beth in earnest.
In rough, rapid thrusts, I tried to put a seam across where I folded her legs against her chest, and a permanent claim to a gape in her cunt. The bed protested, but I ignored it's complaints as I ignored Beth's sharp grapple that slowly raised painful furrows across my back and up my shoulders. Sweat beaded across my body, Beth's wetness dripped off my balls. Her eyes were tightly shut, again, head twisted back by my fist in her brown locks. Her legs flailed and spasmed incessantly in my embrace, and I hunched tighter to avoid the sweep of her tennis shoes. Her pussy clenched and flexed in time with her panting breaths. My own breathing was hot at her throat. Purposefully, I drove myself on until the thought that I hadn't gotten to see those massive tits swinging as I rode her occured to me, and abruptly I could take no more, and was cumming, exhaling in restrained groans, back arching, and pouring into the woman beneath me.
I released my hold on the hard-breathing milf's hair and momentarily collapsed. I felt fluid dripping between us. I hauled myself back upright, proud post slipping from her depths. I raised her slightly off the bed, watching the tremble in her legs and quiver of her holes slow and relax. The bedspread at the corner I had fucked her on was dark and our mix flowed freely down her tawny ass to join the stain. The effluence from her orifice subsided and I released her legs, dropping her on her side. Bleary eyed, she, nonetheless, reached down with the green and gold silk robe, still half twisted in her left hand, and wiped resolutely at her abused sex while carefully sitting up on the edge of the bed.
I pulled my underwear and jeans on and tossed my cum-stained shirt onto the bed, deciding the bedspread was just going in the laundry, too. I knelt between Beth's spread knees, legs still trapped in the twisted knot of her jeans and panties. I cleaned stray droplets of sweat and cum from her bare thighs with a clean corner of the bedspread before deciding getting her jeans up was a lost cause and slipping her shoes, pants and undergarment gently off. Keen awareness of the importance of aftercare... and post-nut clarity of exactly how roughly I had handled her was suddenly forefront in my mind. Her eyes avoided mine, and she pointed to her pants as I ran the blanket one last time up her thighs. "My phone?" I produced it from her back pocket and handed the chrome and glass sliver to her. Immediately, she began sending a text.
Concluding the silently generated communication, she stood, and I followed suit, handing over her garments. Her body was close, her breasts just brushing my chest, but I was much taller, so even standing straight and proud, she didn't look me in the eyes. She caught sight of herself in the mirror: hair stringy with sweat, makeup a smudged ruin, mostly naked, for good measure. "Another bathroom, John? I don't think I want to speak with Lacey, now."
The other guest room on the main floor was pretty bare bones, mostly used when I had a crowd passing through. "Is the master alright?"
