Mrs. Rothschild will be the easiest for you to get to, so you decide to try her the following evening. You recall Nietzsche's claim "That which does not kill me makes me stronger" and somehow this renewed activity is actually strengthening your libido and your capacity for performance.
You go with your favorite formula -- parked some distance away, coat, mask, knife -- and are particularly impressed by the Rothschild residence, a modest exterior housing palatial features, including chandeliers.
You find Mrs. Rothschild watching TV in her bedroom, wearing a negligee and helping herself to bon-bons. She's built a bit thicker than you prefer, but you reason, More cushion. You grab her from behind, show her the knife, and growl "I'll be your rapist this evening. Have you taken your fertility medication?"
"Yes!" she gasps in fear. "Don't hurt me!"
"I'm planning the exact opposite."
When you face her, you are nicely surprised. Her face looks even better in person, but only now does her bust, freed from a photograph which strangely played it down, grab you male attention. Dayum! you think. You also get a much better sense of how full and soft her lips look -- she's not quite an Angelina Jolie in the lips department, but she's a contender.
You unzip -- and that's when it gets strange(r), for she immediately kneels down and begins to suck you cock. Actually, "suck" is something of an understatement, as she damn near inhales it, slurps it, tries to gobble it. She is in fact some sort of berserk animalistic maniac of a cocksucker.
You think, Maybe under other circumstances -- but not now! You yank her back by the hair. "I'm here to fuck you full of babies!" you clarify.
"I know! But ... I need this! Please!?"
You shouldn't, you shouldn't ... but those LIPS ... and those TITS ...
You use the knife to slash her upper negligee and her industrial strength bra right open. Her great soft breasts make a satisfying surge forward in full nakedness, and you think, Jackpot.
"Take it between your tits," you demand, and she obeys. It feels fantastic for a while, and wilder still, you realize that she's building to a climax doing this, she's seriously getting off on this. Before you know it, Mrs. Rothschild is bucking and thrashing with orgasm as she keeps her silky cleavage and her succulent mouth and lips clamped over you. In fact, you now begin to worry that you may lose your steely self-control and let fly.
"That's enough foreplay for a rape ... !" you tell her.
"I, I (GLUMPH!) NEED it! Please!?"
And so you explode in her mouth setting off her biggest climax yet -- and even as you pulse, you feel enraged, enraged and vengeful enough to know you're be rock hard again in no time -- and this time, it is going to be her pussy. |