In 1991 Mark and Melody had tied the knot. They were a very happy couple, but they were a very odd couple. They had met in 1989 and began dating. They were a very happy couple but they both felt that something was missing in the bedroom. In this age, before the widespread access to computers and internet, they both felt unsure about what they needed. To make matters worse they never really spoke about it. Things might have continued that way for years, or until they broke up. Except one night they had gotten drunk and, as drunk people are occasionally known to do, they had gotten into a fight. The fight had started over something foolish, Melody had accepted a drink from a man and Mark decided she had wanted that man. Melody, who had indeed had a moment's fantasy about the man, argued against this vehemently.
The argument escalated and by the time the two had retired to his apartment they were throwing insults without regard for their partner. What should have been the end of the relationship was saved in the most unusual way. Melody, too drunk to stop herself, had yelled at Mark about his bedroom skills. She insulted his manhood, told him that he was a pussy and that he was more of a woman than she was. He had been enraged! He had been holding back on his needs and desires to ensure that she was safe and comfortable during their love making and as a result had not been able to fully enjoy it. Now she was calling him out for the consideration and kindness and he could not turn away from the challenge.
With the drunken gleam of bad choices, he had stalked forward. She was so into her accusations that she did not realize the danger until he was right in front of her. Despite her inability to fully stand on her own, she sensed the danger and attempted to back up. He snatched her by the arm, pulling her over to him and kissed her deeply, forcefully. If he had been expecting her to go soft and kiss him back, he was sorely mistaken. She had bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood and make him pull back cursing. Without thought he slapped her. The sound rang in the room and Melody's eyes grew wide. Mark had a moment of doubt, a moment of clarity where he attempted to stop himself. Then his anger, his drunken rage, washed over him.
He grabbed her once again, pulling her across the room and throwing her in an undignified heap on the floor. She fell on her hands and knees, the skirt billowing behind her and showing off her thighs and ass. He threw himself on top of her and began to rip at her clothing. He tore the panties from her, exposing her ass to his hand. He brought it down in a strong arch, connecting solidly with the fleshy globe of her ass. She had screamed and tried to crawl away, but he had grabbed her around the waist and held her captive. He spanked her hard, taking out the aggression of the argument, the pain of the bite, and the many nights spent unsatisfied. He had lost count of the slaps but when he could think again he found that she was crying into the carpet. His heart twinged and he pulled back. What had he done?
To his surprise he realized that despite her sobs, Melody was lifting her ass up to him. She was jerking her hips, humping the air. He slid his hand between her thighs and found her wet. She yelped and tried to flip over, to resist him. He let her turn, but then pressed her down against the carpet. She wasn't screaming he realized, she was barely fighting him at all. Her hips continued to jerk, and when he rubbed his palm against her mound she had moaned and pressed against him hard.