“Always,” I said, the back of my mind screaming that every second I was there, I lost a bit of respect in both her eyes and my own. For once, we didn’t even exchange many pleasantries. She spread her legs slightly, and I could just barely see the small folds that lead up to her pubic mound. My cock was at full attention, and I undid my belt and zipper to let the beast free. I suppose it was the anger that drove me to not even start slowly with her. I stripped my clothes as I approached her, cock aimed like a missile towards her soft regions. I climbed up onto the bed, and then moved on my hands and knees up to her.
I lunged forward, my cock bouncing off the lower rim of her pussy. If it had been any other time, she would have complained and pushed me off of her, but we were both too far gone for that. I thrust as deep into her as I could, her curly red hairs tickling near the base of my cock. I didn’t wait for permission, or any other sign from her. Frankly, I didn’t care.
What followed was a willing rape. I fucked her with long, hard strokes. She put her hands on my chest, a sign to slow down and go easy, but I ignored her. The anger came rushing back about the divorce, about the pain she had put me through, and I was pushing it all into my hips and cock, spearing her with it like she had speared me over the twelve years of our marriage and one of divorce. I could actually feel the sides of her pussy scraping my dick as I fucked her. This was not making love, this was pure, animalistic fucking.
I forced myself to pull out, but I wasn’t done with her. I lifted her off the bed, flipping her over. She was almost a rag doll in my arms, either from lust or fear, I couldn’t tell. She put her legs under her, ass in the air, and I plunged my rock hard member into her, probably deeper than I should have. She gave out a half hearted yelp, but I refused to be stopped. It was at that point that I had one conscious thought; I didn’t want her pregnant, so I was going to cum in her ass. She had rarely allowed me anal sex; She claimed that my cock was two wide, but I just didn’t care by that point.
I slid my cock out of her savaged pussy and took aim at her ass.
“No…” she whimpered, “stop…”
Her pleas drove me on. I pressed the head of my pole to her puckered little asshole for a moment, and then shoved it into her. She screamed.
The scream cleared my mind for a moment, but the angry buzz was still there. I was deeper in her ass than I had been before. It was tighter than anything I had ever experienced. I knelt there, balls deep in my ex-wife’s asshole, trying to figure out what the hell I was doing. The complexity of our relationship was trying to get into my mind, but the anger was a hot, pulsing thing behind my eyes.
“Oh god, Randall. Get your cock out of me,” she complained, her voice a bit strengthened by my hesitation.
Looking back on it, it was probably the absolute wrong thing to say to me if she really wanted me out. She had no way of knowing that, but her words made my anger flare, and I knew there was no going back now.
I began pounding her ass with all of the anger-fueled strength I had. I was going to paint her little brown hole white, and was going to do it when I wanted. I didn’t give a damn about her pain, her desires, or her. I could feel the beginnings of my orgasm, and willed it back. I was going to make her assfucking last as long as I could. I felt the orgasm build, though contained, and knew I was going to spunk a gallon and a half into her.
I grabbed her hair, yanking her head, shoulders and arms up off the bed. She had been burying her face in her pillow, but I wasn’t having any of that. She reached out with both arms, trying to find a purchase. I was so close to my orgasm, and it was so intense, that I lost control, throwing her back down to the bed as the first fire hose squirt shot out of my dick. She fell back into the position she had been in: ass in the air, arms around the pillow, face pressed in but off to the side so she could breathe. I kept cumming hard and fast into her, and I grunted my triumph with a guttural sound that surprised even me.
It felt like I came for hours. Before my cock was down, I pulled it out, and let the last few streams shoot out on to her crack. It was almost as if my dick had been holding her up; a moment after my last splash of jism coated her crack, she collapsed onto the bed.
I was still on my knees, rigid pole sticking out from my body. My orgasm hadn’t diminished my erection at all, and I felt like a conqueror.
In my haze, I looked down at my cock, sticking out like a flagpole. I had planted my flag in her ass, brown, white, and red. There was a small amount of blood mixed in for good measure. Not too much, mind you.
“You know,” she said, slightly hoarse, “if you had fucked me like that when we were married, I would never have gone out with other guys.”
I ignored her last attempt at control, got to my feet, and began getting dressed.
“Where are you going?” she asked, pleading in her voice.
“Home,” I said. I didn’t feel the need to explain any further.