Ingrid looks away, though she's smiling. "You know I've been dating."
"But you don't really care about any of them. They've been a waste of your time. They are inferior stock and unworthy of you."
Ingrid regards you a little strangely. "'Inferior stock?'" And now that she asks, you wonder at your own weird eugenic phrasing. All this play-rape seems to be messing with your ego on a deep level.
"All you have to do is look at Friday, and you know we breed well." Which is true, as it is not simply parental pride but a quite objective assessment that Friday is even more adorable than, say, Malia Obama.
"You argue persuasively, professor."
There is a subtle atmosphere of openness just then, so you move right in, and you hold and kiss Ingrid. You are delighted to figure out that she is slowly caving in to a certain pent-up horniness of her own, as if this kiss is in itself resolving an old argument.
Then she tenses slightly, and pulls away a couple of inches, and says "You know, seriously, one of these days I'll have a new husband."
"Not if I can help it," you tell her calmly but firmly. "All those men you've had, pumping and thrusting away inside you, they're fools. And you know it. And you wish you could forget you ever let them into you."
"You're presumptuous." And yet, she studies you with a certain awe, as if you are telepathically correct.
"Men have been trying to leave their mark on you, like your vagina is a blackboard. They each leave a little note in chalk, declaring 'I was here. I was inside Ingrid Good.' Well, the hell with them. Because I can erase them all. Because now I'm going to fuck you, and my cock's going to be the eraser, and if I have anything to say about it, your cunt is going to have its memory wiped clean, and it will never be able to remember that any man but me -- ME -- ever fucked it."
Ingrid seems a little sppoked by your words, but she defiinitely seems turned on, too. Her look becomes more serious, her breathing comes harder, and when you kiss again, it is with animal urgency and a lot of mutual tongue.
How long have your wanted this? Watching the evening news, kicking yourself while thousands of viewers get to desire what once was all yours? Suddenly you can't pull the clothes off her fast enough, and you feel that delicious rush of how it was to discover her amazing graceful curvaceous body on your first date, you're that 20-year-old all over again and you can't grab and fondle and kiss enough of her incredible soft milk chocolate skin. You rip her panties apart as you bury your face in her wild wiry black pubic hair and gobble heartily at her warm juicy snatch, and when you sense in the tensing of her ass that she has achieved sufficient anxiety, that's when you hoist her up and begin to hammer your straining cock into her. You bang hard, like a man possessed, as if you have no Off switch, you bang and bang and bang and bang, intent upon erasing her blackboard vagina of all these petty worthless contenders, and as you feel her long, long legs wrap lovingly around you, you sense that you are liberating her of those memories. |