Making Sharon yours

You lean your head back and moan. Sharon’s vagina is so fucking tight. It squeezes around your cockhead much like Marissa’s.

“Oh… oh god…” she hisses and then lowers herself further, quivering as she takes inch after aching inch of your manhood inside her. “Fuck!”

She puts a hand over her mouth, barely managing to muffle herself in time. God, it’s amazing that you’ve actually reduced her to this, from an intelligent, authoritative woman to someone who has to cover her mouth to keep others from hearing her enjoy your cock. Though, you’re not sure “reduced” is the proper word to describe Sharon’s current state. Her skin is slick with sweat and her luscious black hair has started to look like an untamed mess. Her sapphire eyes are wide with what you can only describe as pure, unadulterated joy. She’s panting slightly, her frantic breath wafting against your face.

Suffice it to say, she’s not quite the spitting image of a professional therapist right now.

She lets herself slide a little further down, and your cock nudges against something inside her. She grunts and grabs your shoulders to stabilize herself.

Most of you is inside her now. Her scalding, wet, tight furnace of a pussy pulses and clenches intermittently around your cock, sending tremors of raw pleasure coursing through the rest of your body. It takes everything you have not to moan, to not express something to reflect the bliss you are feeling. You just want to close your eyes and hold Sharon close, and keep yourself inside her. She lowers her hands and grips the bottom of blouse. She lifts them, and her large tits bounce free. She throws her blouse into the bathtub which lines the wall opposite the toilet.

You’d known sex was amazing from your time with Marissa, but it still surprises you how much better it feels than a woman’s mouth or your own hand, which you’d been relegated to before you’d entered this world.

Sharon leans down to capture your lips with hers. The kiss is slow and surprisingly tender for the position you’re in, but you feel no need to escalate. You’re content to let her move her lips against yours and you reciprocate. You feel her tongue probe tentatively at the edge of your lips, and you open them. She nudges her tongue inside your mouth and pauses when it makes contact with your own tongue. Then she flicks it against yours, as if encouraging you to move it.

You decide to oblige her. You flick her tongue back before swirling it around hers. She moans happily into your mouth and starts moving again, fucking herself slowly on your cock, her tits jiggling rhythmically with her movements. Up and down. You extend your tongue past hers, between her lips and into her mouth. Up and down. She places a soft hand on the back of your neck, softly encouraging you to deepen the kiss further. Up and down. You keep squeezing her soft, plentiful assflesh which yields so readily to your touch. Up and down. She breaks the kiss to take a deep, shuddering breath. Up and down. You slide your hands across her ass until you can dig your fingers into her asscrack. Up and down. Your left index finger finds the tight ring of her sphincter. She lets out a hiss.

“Oh, you shouldn’t touch me back there. It’s dirty,” she whispers, but you note the complete lack of reproach in her tone. Her eyes stare at you, and in that instant you can’t help but feel like she’s almost excited by what you’ve done.

Your lips twitch into a feral grin.

Moving back your right hand, you briefly consider lubricating a finger yourself. Then, a moment of inspiration strikes you. You push your finger against Sharon’s soft lips. Her eyes look at you questioningly for a few seconds before she nods slightly, opening her mouth. Her tongue creeps out and flicks at the tip of your finger like it’s a penis. She does that for a moment or so before engulfing her finger inside her mouth. She keeps fucking herself slowly up and down your cock as she slurps on your finger right in front of you.

“Holy shit,” you can’t resist muttering. Sharon’s eyes smile devilishly. It seems like she’s enjoying the effect she has on you. You wonder how much of that she’d been masking over the past day or so.

Moments later, she opens her mouth and allows your finger to slide from her mouth. A string of saliva connects your finger and her mouth, breaking when she licks her lips. You move your hand behind her again, and she pauses her movements. She doesn’t say anything when your lubricated finger brushes against the entrance to her rear. Instead, her cunt tightens. Your manhood throbs inside her, nudging itself against her cervix again.

You push.

Her tight anal ring yields to you after some doing. You grin as the tip of your index finger pops into her asshole.

“Ugh… oh god…” Sharon lets out a grunt. “Jesus, why the hell am I letting you do this?”

She shakes her head, wide eyes disbelieving, even as she continues to rock her hips back and forth, shoving your cock in and out of her pussy, while you wriggle your index finger another half-inch into her anal passage.

You smile confidently. If she’s willing to let you do these things to her, there’s not much she’ll deny you now. And even if she does, you can always invoke her trigger and fix things that way. That’s probably why you don’t mince your next words.

“That’s easy, Sharon. You’re letting me do this because you like it. You like getting fucked by me and,” you shove your finger another inch into her ass, drawing a strangled scream from her. Her pussy tightens so hard it’s almost painful. “You like it when men play with your ass. Isn’t that right?”

“N-no, that’s not true!” she hisses, but her hips keep moving. Lewd sounds of skin impacting skin fill the bathroom, broken up by the occasional cadence of a moan or grunt from you or Sharon. Mostly, Sharon, though. She’s sweating a great deal, now. Her mouth is wide open, and she’s panting. Her eyes stare down at you, and you see a measure of denial in them and… embarrassment? Huh. You’d expected anger. Not embarrassment.

“It’s true, isn’t it? You like it when I play with your ass? It feels really good, doesn’t it?”

You wiggle your finger teasingly inside her. She covers her mouth with her hand to stifle a moan. The tempo of her movements increases, and you have to keep your hand moving to keep your finger inside her. It’s becoming somewhat difficult to have to move your hand to keep up with her, but you bear it because you like the way you’re getting to her. Without hypnosis, even. You’re stripping parts of her bare, laying them out for you both to see. While you’d normally prefer doing such things with the aid of a trance, there’s something darkly appealing about breaking down a person’s barriers with sex.

“I…”

When she pauses, you continue, groaning as Sharon lowers herself again, ensconcing most of your cock in her tight, hot pussy. It clenches and unclenches around you, as if milking you, encouraging you to cum inside her. Idly, you wonder if she’s taking birth control.

An image flashes before your eyes. For a moment, you see Sharon, naked as the day she was born and heavily pregnant. Her already-large breasts are practically engorged now, filled with milk to nourish the offspring you put inside her. She looks over at you and smiles in a way that tells you that she’s never loved anyone or anything more than she loves you. She reaches a hand down to cradle her belly. She notices your attention drawn to stomach. Her eyes glimmer with pride and her smile curls into a satisfied smirk when she thinks about how you’d once played with her son when you were young. Now, you’ve given her a new son or daughter. She starts speaking, telling you how happy she is to have a chance to raise a child with none of Jared’s faults.

“I’ve thought a lot about the future and I’ve come to realize that after this one is born, I’m going to want you to give me another one~”

She bites her lower lip before speaking again, her eyes burning with a seemingly unquenchable lust.

“And another and another and another.”

Her smile curves again into something stark, malicious. She holds out a photograph of Jared and her, both of them smiling brightly at the camera. You think you saw it once on one of the walls in Sharon’s house. She glares down at it with a hatred that surprises and invigorates you. If she could, you’ve no doubt she’d have burned the picture through will alone. She glances up at you again, her once-hateful gaze subsiding once more into something far more loving than you’ve seen.

“Thank you for finally giving me sons and daughters I can be proud of!”

She rips the photo in half and lets the pieces fall uselessly to the floor. She steps over the remains and presses her lips to yours.

You blink, dispelling the image, but the vision stubbornly remains at the forefront of your thoughts. It’d be hot to knock up someone like Sharon. To make her a mother again and give her a second chance to raise a son or daughter who isn’t a failure in her eyes. But are you really ready to be a father? Can you honestly say that you can be a positive influence on the life of a newborn child, considering how obviously fucked up you are?

Licking your lips, you realize that whatever your faults, you have power. A means by which to create the world you desire for yourself and the people you love. You’ve already thought about and committed to creating a life where your nephew Ronnie wants for nothing. You can do the same for your own children, no matter how many you have with however many women you choose to sire offspring with. You make a silent promise that if and when you have children, you’ll make sure they get the best care money can buy as well as something that had been denied you for your entire childhood: love. You swear that neither Ronnie or any of your children will ever grow up feeling neglected or unloved. You will do whatever it takes to make sure that you do not create another you.

As Sharon continues fucking herself on your cock, making her boobs bounce and sending dizzying tremors of pleasure coursing though your body, you can’t help but imagine Jared’s reaction to seeing his mother happily pregnant with your child. He’d probably be overwhelmed with rage so potent he might just kill you. You’ll need more servants. Powerful servants. Lawmakers. Police officers. Lawyers. Judges. People in government who can simultaneously protect you while steering the powers that be well off the path of discovering that there’s something not quite right about you. You may also try to ensnare individuals in business or finance who can provide you with money and connections.

That’s a ways off, though. Jared won’t be getting home for a few months and you’ll have plenty of time to make arrangements before then. So, where were you again? Ah, yes. You’re trying to convince Sharon not to be ashamed her anal kink. And isn’t it amazing that she has one to begin with? You’d never have thought she would have. Just goes to show that you really don’t know as much about people as you think.

“There – oh, shit – there’s nothing to be ashamed of, Sharon. I’m pretty sure it’s normal for a woman to like that kind of thing. A few months ago I knew a girl who was into anal and she wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed about it. If she can admit she enjoys it, why can’t you? Why are you so afraid to admit it?”

You thrust up inside her as lies spill from your lips. Lying had really bothered you when you were younger. You’d used to think that it was just innately wrong to mislead people or try to sugarcoat negative situations. And hadn’t your parents and teachers always said that honesty was always the best policy? You’d laughed when you realized that that had been the greatest lie of all. All being honest had done was to alienate your friends and make you look like a negative Nancy who no one really wanted to be around. People wanted to be lied to. They wanted to be manipulated into either believing that their stupid, inane conception of the world around them was true or being convinced that a better world existed.

By the time you realized the truth, the damage to your reputation had really already been done. But dishonesty was something you’d grown to rely on when all your friends and family deserted you or turned against you. And you’d used it. Against your parents, your sister, your teachers, and everyone else in your life. Not always to great effect, but when it worked, it worked. It’d certainly saved you more than one beating when you were in high school.

From the way Sharon’s eyes narrow challengingly, you know she’s fallen for the bait, hook, line and sinker.

“I’m not afraid to talk about my preferences,” she hisses icily. “It’s just that Doug never liked that kind of thing. He’d yell at me even for mentioning it, calling it ‘disgusting’ and ‘unsanitary’. When he realized I enjoyed it, he…”

She grimaces, shaking her head.

“What’d he do when he found out?” you ask.

Sharon frowns, but doesn’t stop her movements atop your lap. It’s a strange contrast, seeing a displeased look on her face while she lets out pleased moans and whimpers.

She shoves the majority of your cock inside her again and stays still for a moment.

“He… He’d get this look on his face sometimes. Not all the time. Doug could be loving when he wanted to be, but I always got the sense he thought less of me for it. Like I was somehow a disappointment compared to the idea he held of the pure, god-fearing woman he thought he married.”

A part of you wants to reassure her that you’d never do anything like that, and that for as long as she’s with you you’ll never judge her. But something tells you that she won’t believe you. She spent the better part of two decades married to her ex-husband. Why would she believe you after having been with you for less than forty-eight hours?

“So, your ex-husband didn’t like anal sex? Is that why you’re hesitant to talk about it?”

She shakes her head and lets out a heavy sigh. She rocks her hips softly pushing you up against her cervix again. She whimpers a little from the pain, but a simultaneous tightening of her slick pussy tells you that such suffering hasn’t gotten in the way of her arousal.

“I suppose that’s part of it. Like I said before, I knew from the beginning of our relationship that he wasn’t a fan of anal sex, but,” she hesitates. She really doesn’t want to talk about this. A raising of your eyebrows convinces her to go through with it. “I’ve always loved it. It feels amazing and then there’s this whole taboo aspect to it without it actually being forbidden. I thought I’d be able to convince him to partake in it after a while, but I was wrong. I respected my husband’s wishes, though, and didn’t ask him to take me back there after he made it clear how utterly revolting the idea was to him. But the thing about pleasure is that it’s not something that’s really easy to put off or deny.”

Realization strikes you.

“You bought a butt plug,” you utter.

Sharon snorts. Then she sighs again.

“Yes. I bought a butt plug. I thought I’d hidden it well, but Doug was always too nosy for his own good. He always had to know what I was thinking or feeling, but god forbid I get a little insight into his thoughts. He was always on guard around me, especially when I asked him questions. He was a big fan of sarcasm or answering a question with another question. I think he was always suspicious of me on some level because of my profession. I dig into people’s thoughts and their personal lives for a living. I guess he was worried that I’d always be able to parse out what he was thinking, and he couldn’t have that. He always had to be in control.”

You give her a gentle thrust upwards while inching your finger further up her tight little asshole.

She licks her lips and moans.

“So how did Doug react when he found the toy?” you say.

She smiles bitterly, pain evident in her eyes.

“What do you think? He went ballistic like he always did whenever I said or did something he didn’t like. He accused me of not being satisfied with him or with our marriage. I – oh, fuck! – I told him that wasn’t true, and that it was only to relieve myself if I ever got urges when he wasn’t around. He didn’t buy it. We slept in separate rooms after that. The whole time, I was in shock. I knew he hated anything to do with anal, but I couldn’t believe that he’d react so harshly to something so… insignificant. It was just so out of proportion to what actually happened. After a couple days, we reconciled, but neither of our hearts was really in it, I think. Mine certainly wasn’t. It wasn’t the first time I wished I’d married someone else, but I think it was the first time I really meant it. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when, a few months later, I caught him out with one of his female employees. I wasn’t really hurt when it happened. Not terribly. You’re going to think I’m strange, but the only thing I remember feeling that night was… relief. I think I’d wanted out of the marriage for a while and Doug had finally given us both an excuse to end it once and for all.”

Damn.

She lifts herself up so only your cockhead is inside her before lowering herself abruptly, bashing the head against her cervix. She lets out a low squeak. Her lips tremble slightly and for a moment she looks like she might just cry. She takes a deep breath to compose herself before rocking her hips again.

The two of you lapse into meaningful silence as you digest her words and enjoy how amazing the sex feels, but her eyes stare at you expectantly. She wants something from you. What is it? Affirmation? Sympathy? A promise that you’ll never treat her the way Doug did? You think she’s probably expecting those things, possibly a combination of all three. Most men would probably react that way to get into her good graces, and if you’re being honest with yourself, so would you if you didn’t have the means to clean up after just about any mistake you made with her.

Instead, you say something you don’t think she will expect.

“If that’s the way you feel, then maybe you should have married someone else.”

Your voice is cold, hard, and devoid of sympathy.

Her eyes widen with surprise. You suppress a smirk. It’s not every day you defy the expectations of a woman as well-versed in behavioral psychology as she is.

“I’m serious. If you’re going to spend your whole life with someone, you should make sure that they share the same needs and wants as you. That way neither of you needs to pretend to have fun to get along or sacrifice the things you enjoy to make the other happy. It should hurt like hell when someone you love cheats on you. You shouldn’t feel fucking relieved.”

She stares at you for a few seconds before her blue eyes narrow into icy slits.

“Oh really? And what do you know about marriage and relationships? You’re a nineteen year-old boy fresh out of high school with no job, friends, or commitments. When you grow older, you’ll begin to understand that you can’t have relationships without sacrifice or compromise. Relationships never work perfectly because no two people are exactly alike. If you put two people together, they will always find a way to disagree with each other, no matter how similar they are. It’s inevitable.”

You frown. You’d never have thought Sharon would be so pessimistic about relationships, especially not after she was so hell-bent on the idea that you and Tiffany could repair your dysfunctional relationship. You give her an angry upward thrust that forces a breath out of her.

“And how do you know that? Far as I know, Doug’s the only person you married and from what you’ve said he seems like an **** case of someone who acts out when things don’t go his way. Most people I know would be tolerant if their partner had certain… kinks that they didn’t necessarily share. You’re acting like it’s impossible that there might just be someone who can like you for exactly the way you are,” you say. You move your finger back before shoving it in again, past the knuckle.

Sharon grunts and quivers atop you. Her breasts wobble mesmerizingly.

“Like, take me for example. I don’t think anal’s dirty and I don’t think less of you for enjoying it. Hell, I’m thinking about fucking you back there one day,” Sharon’s dazzlingly blue eyes widen as you speak. “I know you don’t have any reason to believe me and you probably don’t want to commit yourself to a serious relationship after your marriage failed, but can’t you just sit and enjoy the moment? I can tell you one thing: you definitely won’t find a man who’s going to share your likes and dislikes if you’re too busy worrying about how he might react to be completely honest with him. The only way you’re going to find like minded people is if you put your genuine self out there. Otherwise none of them are going to have an idea who you really are and they’ll never get a chance to accept or reject the real you. I know I’d rather know what the fuck a person thinks for real than be worried about how they’ll react to me.”

She looks down at you strangely. You can tell she’s more than a little miffed about being judged by someone over a decade younger than her, but you think some of what you said has struck a chord within her. Either that, or she’s too distracted by sex to yell at you.

“That’s an interesting perspective. Normally I’d argue with you, but I… uh,” she looks down at where the two of you are conjoined. “Perhaps we could save that for a more appropriate setting? Like you said, why can’t we just enjoy the moment?”

You chuckle.

“We did get carried away, didn’t we? Almost like a real couple.”

That earns you a warm smile from her.

She licks her lips.

“A-almost,” she qualifies, slowly fucking herself on your cock. “Ahn… Real couples actually go out on dates, now and again.”

You smack her ass with your free hand. She lets out a whimper and her pussy clenches around your cock like a vice.

“The movie we went to earlier doesn’t count?”

She shakes her head, causing her black hair to tumble around wildly, and in that moment you can’t help but be taken in by how insanely beautiful she is. Her skin is so smooth. It doesn't look like she’s aged at all past her late twenties, but her eyes speak of a maturity and knowledge that far surpasses women of that age.

“Nope. As nice as blowjobs are, they aren’t really romantic. If you really want to win over my heart, you’ll need to take me somewhere nice where we can do civilized things like talk over a delicious dinner.”

You shrug.

“Sure, we can do that. How does tonight sound?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I think we-”

You smack her ass again and begin groping it roughly. You start moving your index finger back and forth, fucking her tight asshole.

“Oh fuck!” she slams her hand over her mouth, but not quickly enough to muffle her sharp scream. You’re sure Tiffany could have heard her, even over her music which even now still pulses through the walls of your home’s second floor.

“What’s that, Sharon? I didn’t hear you.”

Her eyes are slightly foggy, like she’s having trouble concentrating. She musters up enough of her will to glare down at you even as she moans and whimpers and mewls as you thrust into her.

“I said-”

You take your finger out of her ass and roughly grip her asscheeks, using them as handles to give yourself leverage and allow you to thrust sharply upwards.

She lets out another scream that she only barely muffles in time.

“Ugh, oh godddddddd I’m…” she bites her lip as her body starts shaking as she orgasms.

Conveniently, feel your balls clench almost immediately after she starts to orgasm and within moments you’re spewing your hot baby batter into her tight, unprotected pussy.

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