


Blackmailed Bride

by Sam Jason



Category: NonConsent/Reluctance
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2017-04-26 15:14:05
Chapters: 1
Publisher: literotica.com
Story URL: https://www.literotica.com/s/blackmailed-bride
Author URL:
https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=2208&page=submissions
Summary: An old man teaches a young bride the meaning of pleasure.
Erotica Tags: Bride, Cuckold, Hairy, Old, Seduction, Young
Average Rating: 4.61






        Blackmailed Bride


My fiancé said, "Kate, you have to promise me you won't look in this one box.
Promise?"  
  
I laughed and held up my hand like taking an oath. "I promise, sir!"  
  
"Mr. Zankov, you keep her honest for me until I get home. In fact, here."  
  
Our new landlord helped carry some out belongings from the car to our 3rd
floor apartment. He took the brown box from John while saying, "Da, Da! Your
secret safe. Segei too promise."  
  
He was a strange man. Short, stout, and in his sixties with bad teeth and a
few strands of greasy hair on his head. It probably was my imagination, but
every time I turned, I caught him looking at me. He would give me a bad smile
that didn't ease my discomfort. His thick Russian accent didn't help, either.  
  
Okay, Red. I have to make one more appearance at the office before our big day
on Saturday. I can't believe in two days we'll be Mr. and Mrs. John Burke."  
  
"Don't forget I'm keeping my name: Brennan!"  
  
"Don't get your Irish up, Kate. Until at least after we're married. Come
here." He took me in his arms and kissed me softly. John was always so gentle.
I hardly felt his touch.  
  
"Now that you've graduated college, you can find a job in the big city here so
I won't have to be the only worker in the family.  
  
"I can't wait. After four years of classrooms, I'm ready for an office and a
paycheck," I said.  
  
"See you tonight."  
  
I watched John's car until it rounded the corner. Then I carried in the last
two bags sitting on the sidewalk. Mr. Zankov had already gone upstairs with
John's mystery box.  
  
*********************************  
  
Mr. Zankov stood in the living room with his arms folded and a grim look on
his face.  
  
"Thanks for your help, Mr. Zankov. I'll call you if I need anything." I
thought this was a clever way to tell him to leave.  
  
"Sergei. Please call me Sergei. May I say Kate?"  
  
I would have preferred something more formal from this repulsive man, but
said, "Sure."  
  
"Kate. We have serious problem."  
  
My first thought was something about the apartment: heating, appliances, water
pipes.  
  
"That box, your husband. Brown one."  
  
I looked in the corner. There it sat with the cover off.  
  
"Open as Sergei put down, and ... come look."  
  
"John told me not to."  
  
"Sergei knows now why forbids you this," Sergei said. "Sergei afraid must call
police." He pointed to his cell phone that he had left propped up on the end
table. "Come, come."  
  
A sense of dread made me cold all over. A rough hand grabbed my elbow and led
me to the box. When I looked inside, I saw the vilest assortment of
photographs and DVDs imaginable.  
  
Sergei must report husband's "hobby" to police. Mrs. Kate see why."  
  
I was in shock. All of a sudden, I felt I didn't know the man I was about to
marry. How could he have kept this from me in the years we had known each
other? Now, in addition to my newfound knowledge, I was faced with John
getting arrested and being forever labeled.  
  
"You see problem, as good American citizen." Sergei's voice barely registered
in my demolished consciousness. "Sergei call now."  
  
"Wait! Wait! Mr. Zankov, please wait. This has to be a misunderstanding."  
  
"What not understand; even Sergei, stupid Russian immigrant understand what
Sergei sees.  
  
"Let me straighten this out with my fiancé. Please!"  
  
"My mother in Russia, when Sergei needed to show ... what is word ... Sergei's
sincerity, would make Sergei fall to knees before her, close eyes and say what
is deepest in Sergei's heart."  
  
This sounded like a glimmer of hope. I knelt before this man, closed my eyes,
and said: "Mr. Zankov, John is a good man. Maybe this is all a mistake. Maybe
he's in the grip of something he can't free himself—"  
  
The air had turned putrid and my lips got swiped with the stickiest goo
imaginable. I opened my eyes, and before me was the biggest penis I had ever
seen. Its head was grayish pink with a dark purple ring around it. The shaft
had thick veins feeding it blood. The tip oozed and drooled, and I knew that
liquid was covering my lips too.  
  
I spit on the floor and tried to stand up. A heavy hand pressured my shoulder.
"Such pretty red hair," he said and brushed his hand along the top of my head.
"Suck Sergei's cock."  
  
"NOOO!" I screamed and tried to get up, and then tried to crawl away. But, his
strong hand had my short hair secure and held me there.  
  
"Yes, scream! Scream bring neighbors to see what beloved fiancé looks at
instead of bride."  
  
"Noooo," I said softly this time.  
  
"Suck Sergei's cock and Sergei forget all and all is past." He pushed the
offensive appendage suddenly close and brushed my lips again, making me cough
with the smell. By reflex, my tongue came out to wipe my lips clean. An
overpowering sour and bitter taste filled my mouth.  
  
"No, please. Don't make me. Please."  
  
He let go of me. "Sergei call 911. They will know how deal man like this."  
  
I could only look up at him and plead with my eyes. I had no words in my mouth
to use.  
  
"Such green eyes. Use green eyes to see Sergei's cock."  
  
Uncontrollably my eyes darted to the massive instrument before me. It throbbed
with each of his heartbeats and pointed at my mouth.  
  
"Sergei is bigger than your puny John. Sergei right?"  
  
I shook my head "no" in a lie. Mr. Zankov was huge compared to John.  
  
"Give Sergei your hand," he commanded. When I didn't comply, he reached down
and grabbed my limp arm, pulling it up until he had found my hand. He placed
my open palm against the hot, hard organ extending from his body.  
  
I tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. "Stroke Sergei. Stroke
now." He extended my fingers around his shaft and then with his own hand on
top of mine, began a slow jacking motion along its whole length.  
  
"Aahhh!" he breathed. "Good girl, good girl. Your hand knows even as kate's
mind says 'no.' Continue."  
  
He took his hand away, and inexplicably, I continued. My fingers put gentle
pressure on his penis, but couldn't reach all the way around because of his
vast circumference.  
  
"You suck Sergei's cock, this all goes away. Poof!" He pushed forward and
forced the cockhead against my lips. With my hand there, it looked like I was
guiding it into my mouth.  
  
"I'm begging you ..."  
  
"Suck Sergei. You suck cock before. Suck Sergei now," he whispered over and
over. His hand on my head was no longer forceful, but patting and rubbing my
short red hair. "Suck Sergei and Kate again think of beautiful wedding instead
of vast unpleasantness with police."  
  
"Don't make me," I said.  
  
"Suck Sergei," he said and pressed his dripping cock against my lips.  
  
I parted my lips and took that vile cock into my mouth. The odor and taste
were overpowering.  
  
"Good ... good. You suck Sergei. Women love suck Sergei. You see ... you see."  
  
So far, he was only "in" my mouth. I hadn't yet let the huge head touch my
tongue or the inside of my mouth.  
  
"Now all is left is sucking," he said. He grasped my fingers and put extra
pressure on that thick shaft. This sent a quantity of precum dripping onto my
tongue. It had a horrific salty and sour taste.  
  
I gagged. Mr. Zankov took this as a sign to push his cock to the back of my
throat. I tried to pull away, but his strong hand stopped my head's retreat.  
  
"Suck. Easier for Kate," he said in a chillingly friendly and soft voice.  
  
Again I tried to pull away, but couldn't. "Suck Sergei and all over, poof!" he
said with that same encouraging melodious tone.  
  
I sucked. My tongue made contact with the underside of his penis. My cheeks
hollowed and hugged the sides of his shaft. Unavoidably, the poisonous liquid
flowing from this disgusting man mixed with my saliva and found its way into
my throat.  
  
"Yours most beautiful lips to surround Sergei's cock in all sixty-nine years,"
he said while looking lovingly into my eyes.  
  
It would be months before my twenty-second birthday. He was older than my
grandfather. Forty-eight years older than me. And I was giving him a blowjob.  
  
Suddenly, he surprised me by pulling his cock away. "Tell Sergei you love
sucking Sergei's cock. Tell ... tell now."  
  
"NO!" I yelled. I didn't expect him to yell back:  
  
"TELL SERGEI. TELL SERGEI NOW!"  
  
The volume of his raspy voice filled the apartment. That and the wild look in
his eye frightened me so much I said, "Sergei, I love sucking your cock." My
eyes were directed at the floor.  
  
"One more time. Look at me. And when you finish, lick tip and suck Sergei." I
figured this was some fantasy he was trying to enact. My fear made me play
along.  
  
While looking up at him, in a quavering voice, I said: "Sergei, I love sucking
your cock." Then I licked the thick bead of precum off the tip of his prick
before stuffing his cock in my mouth and sucking it again.  
  
"Da! Da!" he said. Then guided my hand to put more pressure and speed up its
motion.  
  
I should have foreseen this, but it suddenly became clear that he was planning
to cum in my mouth. A new horror over took me.  
  
I stopped to plead one last time, "Please ... no!"  
  
He didn't even say anything. He reinserted his cock in my mouth and started my
hand on its program of jerking him off.  
  
It seemed like an eternity to me, but in less than a minute, the old man's
legs shook while he closed his eyes and shouted toward the ceiling one word—my
name. "KATE!"  
  
His penis burst a flood of hot liquid and gelatin the consistency of cottage
cheese. It filled my mouth and forced its way down my throat. Half of it,
anyway. The other half was finding its way into my nose and leaking out of the
corners of my mouth.  
  
I tried to cough, I tried to gag, but all I could do was swallow and make an
unrecognizable sound deep in my throat. I thought it would never end, but
finally he pulled out and let a last jet of cum spray across my face. His hand
went under my chin and lifted my face towards his. Our eyes met.  
  
"You made Sergei cum. Good girl. More cum than puny John. No?" Then he
laughed.  
  
I put my hands down flat, bent forward, and spit all that was left in my mouth
on the shiny hardwood floor. "I'm going to be sick!" I said out loud. To
myself, and not to him.  
  
I ran to the bathroom and fulfilled my prophecy. I vomited into the toilet. I
could hear his laughter.  
  
Before the slamming of the door, he called to me: "Sergei keeps his promise.
No police."  
  
**********************************  
  
I used mouthwash for five minutes straight. Then brushed my teeth—three times.
Then threw away the toothbrush.  
  
I scrubbed and polished the floor, put the paper towels in a separate garbage
bag and tossed it down the chute in the hallway.  
  
Finally, I took the longest shower of my life.  
  
I had planned to put the finishing touches on our new apartment, but mostly
sat around looking at the box. The offending box.  
  
It sat on the floor. Our landlord had put the cover back on it before he left.
I wouldn't touch it.  
  
So many questions ran through my mind: Did I really know who John was now? Do
I tell him I know what was in the box? Do we still get married? Do I ever let
him know what I did to save him from public humiliation and police
prosecution?  
  
Hours went by and I only got more confused. Finally, I heard the key in the
door. Usually, I got up and ran into John's arms. Tonight, I sat there,
unmoving.  
  
John's face brightened when he saw me like it always did. That didn't have the
same effect on me as usual.  
  
"Does my Kate have a big kiss for her man?" he asked. His arms were wide,
waiting for an embrace.  
  
Two thoughts went through my mind. That was the first time I heard my name
since that Neanderthal called it out while cumming. The other was that the
very cum during that orgasm had drenched the mouth John wanted to kiss.  
  
Both those thoughts, and more, kept me glued to the chair.  
  
"We should talk," I said quietly. So much for not mentioning the box, I
guessed. Something drove me on to figure this out with John, and maybe salvage
our relationship. Maybe we could get him help.  
  
John looked fairly puzzled. "About ...?"  
  
I nodded toward the box.  
  
"I KNEW IT!" he yelled. He put his hands on his hips, and stared at me with a
grim look.  
  
"John—"  
  
"I knew you would be mad at me for leaving a mystery hanging like this!"  
  
"John, I can imagine why you didn't want me to see ..."  
  
But, before I could get the rest of my sentence out, John had walked over to
the box, flipped off its cover, and pulled out the most gorgeous porcelain
clock I had ever seen. It was the clock that had been handed down in his
family for several generations.  
  
"My mother made me promise not to give this to you until after the honeymoon.
It was a housewarming gift from her."  
  
I ran over to look in the box. Except for the clock, there was nothing in it.  
  
The look on my face must have expressed all the shock I was feeling.  
  
"I thought you might have peeked, but I can tell how flabbergasted you are."
He laughed with the excitement that comes from giving someone a big surprise.
"I bet you can't top THAT!"  
  
"No," I said. Then I thought to myself "unless I tell you our gross landlord
came in my mouth after I gave him a blowjob today."  
  
***********************************  
  
"See you this afternoon," John said. "We'll leave the city and head home—our
old home—and be there in plenty of time for our rehearsal and dinner with the
wedding party."  
  
I give him a light kiss on the cheek. He looked at me strangely.  
  
"What's up with you? Last night? This morning?"  
  
"I guess I'm getting nervous. Big day, you know."  
  
"Relax. You have all day to relax and get yourself together."  
  
The night before I had been distant. When John suggested we "break in" the new
bed for the first time, I told him why don't we wait so our wedding night
would be all the more special. He's always so reasonable and went along with
me.  
  
The truth was I still felt creeped out by our landlord. He had manipulated me
by planting that filth and making me actually believe it was John's. Then, he
replaced the clock.  
  
I felt like such a fool. And, I felt violated. Not only had that bastard
violated me, but he violated John. I had given a man oral sex just a day
before our wedding. I was going to the altar in a white dress knowing that I
had been on my knees in front of a disgusting old man and giving him pleasure.  
  
I shivered in revulsion. I promised myself I would never be taken advantage of
again.  
  
I busied myself around the apartment, working harder to catch up on what I had
left undone the day before. Soon I had worked up a sweat despite the air
conditioning. I pulled the front of my tank top out and blew down it. I
untucked it from the elastic waistband of my shorts.  
  
The doorbell rang and startled me. This was the second time I heard it. The
first was when John tested it.  
  
I started to open the door, then stopped. "Who is it?" I called.  
  
"It is Sergei," the muffled voice said.  
  
I had debated whether to march down to his apartment this morning and tell him
what I thought of his trick. But, I didn't have the courage to see his face
again and relive the humiliation I had suffered.  
  
"Go to HELL!" It came out of me before I even thought of what to say.  
  
"Come, come. You know Sergei's little trick now." He laughed. "All forgiven?
Correct?"  
  
"GO AWAY!"  
  
"Sergei brought Kate something."  
  
I looked through the peephole and saw the ugly gnome had nothing in his hands.
"GO AWAY! This time I'LL call the police!"  
  
"That would be very unfortunate."  
  
I didn't say anything.  
  
"Let Sergei in and Sergei explain. Explain plight."  
  
Somehow he thought I had a plight. "GO AWAY! I'll call John and he can be home
in ten minutes. He won't put up with your bullshit!" I seldom swore, but this
felt good!  
  
"Puny John? He takes care of Sergei?" He laughed until he coughed up phlegm
and almost choked.  
  
John was not a violent man. In fact, I had never seen him lose his temper. He
was gentle and kind hated confrontation.  
  
"The internet," he said.  
  
When he didn't elaborate I said: "GO AWAY! THIS IS THE LAST TIME I'M TELLING
YOU!"  
  
"Your wedding place. On internet," he said.  
  
I thought "What? Wedding place?" then it hit me—John had set up a website
where our friends and family could leave messages and videos for us. They had
ranged from sincere and heartfelt to outrageously funny. We got emails, texts,
and phone calls sharing reactions to them.  
  
"I too wish participate. Internet. It is valuable. No?"  
  
I started to have a bad feeling. My body was going cold. I pressed my face
against the door. "Please ... please go away. For the love of God, go away."  
  
"Love! Love is good! Look. Look through hole, Sergei show you love."  
  
Without wanting to, dreading what I'd see, I looked.  
  
He held up the screen of his phone so it was in full view. "I place volume
high so Kate hear. Maybe everybody hear!"  
  
He pushed the play symbol and a video appeared. There was a redheaded girl on
her knees in front of him. "Sergei, I love sucking your cock," the voice said.
Then she licked something off the end of his huge penis and sucked it into her
mouth.  
  
"His phone!" I whispered. It had been propped up on the end table. He must
have recorded the whole scene.  
  
"Open door," he said in a stronger tone.  
  
"Go away," I said in a weaker tone.  
  
"This must stay private? No?"  
  
I didn't answer.  
  
"Shame for such moment we shared to be in public? No?"  
  
The word "shared" made me cringe.  
  
"Please delete that. PLEASE!"  
  
"Kate would not want friends or puny John's mother or father to see such a
thing on your wedding place so soon before Kate's glorious celebration. No?"  
  
"You wouldn't ..."  
  
"Sergei do many things. But, Sergei is generous soul. Open door."  
  
"No. I can't." Only leaning against the door stopped me from dropping to the
floor."  
  
"Sergei ... please call me Sergei. I like it's sound in your mouth. Sergei
very easily persuaded."  
  
"Delete it. Delete that." I could only imagine what all our friends, John's
new boss and his new coworkers—our families would think if they saw that. The
wedding would be off. Our lives would be in shambles. I don't know what I
would do, or how I would be able to ever face anyone again.  
  
"Easily persuaded. But only how you say ... face-to-face."  
  
Maybe I could reason with him. Maybe when he saw how upset I was he would
relent. Maybe there was some shred of decency within that horrible body.  
  
I turned the deadbolt lock and opened the door. He stood there grinning,
showing several missing teeth. The rest of them were badly stained, except the
gold one, which glinted in the light.  
  
"Good, good. We talk."  
  
He was wearing a sweatshirt with sweat stains under the arms and a pair of
Adidas polyester shorts that came to his knees. He wore them beneath his great
belly. The shorts didn't hide the knotted muscular calves carrying his
tremendous weight. He had the hairiest legs I had ever seen on a human. He
wore blue flipflops.  
  
I stepped back and folded my arms, trying to look "all business."  
  
He closed the door behind him and turned the bolt. "Always lock door," he
said.  
  
Suddenly that deadbolt which had previously promised safety, now seemed
confining.  
  
"Sergei likes apartment." He didn't even look at me, but gave himself a tour,
walking from room to room while commenting on how much I had accomplished and
that he liked my decorating.  
  
"You said you would delete that," I finally said.  
  
"From this window, Kate see all way to river. See?" He made a gesture to look
with him out the bedroom window.  
  
"Sergei say persuaded. Easily persuaded. Very simply persuaded."  
  
"Give me the phone and I'll delete it for you," I said. I reached for the
phone in his hand.  
  
"You persuade ... and I leave phone. All is well. Wedding success. Marriage
success. All is wonderful. No?"  
  
"Persuade? What can I say to persuade you?"  
  
"Say? Naaww! Not say ... do. Do for Sergei. Call me Sergei."  
  
"S-Sergei ... what do you mean ... do?"  

"A small thing. So small. To make old man happy." He grinned that awful grin.  
  
"What ...? What small thing?" I was shuddering.  
  
"You ... such handsome woman. So tall. With eyes so green. Like emeralds. So
trim of figure. Remind Sergei of Russian athletes. You athlete?"  
  
I wanted to say no, but told the truth: "Swimming. In college."  
  
"Da! Swimming. Kate have long and graceful lines of swimmer. Except those
lovely and big breasts."  
  
I folded my arms across my chest. "John is due back soon. What do you want?"  
  
"I think you lie. But, maybe Sergei should go ... with phone!"  
  
"What do you want? The small thing."  
  
"Sergei wants to see Kate's beautiful naked body."  
  
"NOOO!" I shouted. "I could never let you see ... I could never!"  
  
"A small thing. You are naked every day, like everyone. This time, only
difference—Sergei see. Sergei enjoy. Sergei has memory to take with him. And,
Sergei leaves phone. All done. All over. Poof!"  
  
"No! Definitely no. No way I'd let you see me naked."  
  
"Maybe Sergei wrong. Maybe Kate right and will be better for video to show
what Kate has done. Maybe better than minute of Sergei looking with admiration
at Kate's body of beautiful woman."  
  
I looked at the floor and said nothing.  
  
"I know shy young thing. You keep eyes shut all the while so Sergei's gaze is
not in Kate's memory. Good?"  
  
I shook my head. I couldn't.  
  
"Sergei go out in hall. Shut door. I wait minute. You remove clothes and say
'Sergei, come in.' Sergei enters, put phone in your hand, look at you. Walk
once around Kate to look at all of Kate. You have eyes shut so you not see
Sergei. Then I leave. Poof."  
  
I shook my head and said, "I can't."  
  
"Sergei shut door. If you say nothing, after minute is gone, Sergei leaves.
With phone and visits internet and wedding place." He left the bedroom and
quietly shut the door.  
  
****************************  
  
My mind froze. Ten seconds ... fifteen seconds passed by. Letting this man see
me naked was impossible.  
  
More impossible was letting the whole world see me suck his cock. I drew my
tank top over my head. Then unfastened my bra. Down went my shorts to the
floor. Finally, I skinned my panties over my hips and let them drop to the
floor.  
  
I stepped into the middle of the room, closed my eyes, and said, "I'm naked,"
loud enough to be heard. I had forgotten what he wanted me to say, or maybe it
was my last bit of protest.  
  
I heard the door open, and then close. I could hear his breathing, which was
quick and raspy.  
  
"You, my beautiful Kate, even more lovely than Sergei dreamed. Kate's skin so
white, so perfect. Kate's breasts magnificent. Kate's nipples, pink like
baby's. And, Kate's red hair, not only on Kate's head, but glorious patch of
fire between Kate's legs."  
  
He walked closer. I could smell him, the stench of him as he got close. I
reasoned that with my eyes tightly squeezed shut, my sense of smell was
stronger.  
  
I held my palm up. "The phone," I said. He placed it in my hand without
hesitation. I gripped it much harder than needed, and even with this monster
gawking at my naked flesh, I felt a little relief, a little justification that
I had done the right thing.  
  
He was behind me now. "Kate's ass so round and firm and delicious."  
  
"You've seen what you wanted. Now go," I said.  
  
"Yes, Sergei has seen and Sergei does want."  
  
Without warning, I felt that filthy mouth on my right breast. He hungrily
sucked at my nipple while encircling me with his arms.  
  
My eyes flew open and the shock of what I saw made me scream. He too was
naked. He must have undressed while I did and entered the room unclothed. No
wonder the smell was stronger.  
  
I had thought his legs were hairy, but even that observation had not prepared
me for what I was seeing. There was not a single square inch of his body that
wasn't covered with thick black and gray hair. It curled and matted over his
chest, his stomach, his shoulders. Only slightly thicker was the massive
growth of pubic hair from which stood, totally erect, that giant cock.  
  
I tried to push him away, off my breast, but he was too strong. He had, even
at his age, great bulging shoulder muscles, thick forearms, and biceps the
size of my thigh. The body of someone who had done extremely strenuous work
for most of his life. Coupled with the body hair, it reminded me of an ape.  
  
I screamed again, louder this time.  
  
"Sergei knows everyone in building gone. Scream if Kate like." Then he
switched to my other breast. His rough tongue brushed back and forth over my
sensitive nipple.  
  
I pushed with both hands on his head, but the iron muscles of his neck held it
motionless against my tit.  
  
I tried to punch, but he easily slipped his head to the side, letting my
clenched fist shoot past.  
  
"Time has passed too long before Sergei gets kiss from beautiful Kate." He
raised his face to mine and I tried to avoid him by shaking my head from side
to side. He pressed his face tight against mine and licked my cheek, then
found my tightly-closed mouth. I gave frantic muffled cries while breathing
through my nose.  
  
Those massive arms tightened around my body, constricting my breathing in a
tremendous bear hug. My mouth flew open, trying desperately to catch just one
breath.  
  
His putrid mouth filled mine. His tongue probing and tasting, probing down my
throat. Then he sucked my tongue—hard, and for a long time. The stench of his
mouth was beyond belief. It crept deep into my nasal cavity.  
  
"You like Sergei. Sergei knows."  
  
"Let me go. Let me go."  
  
"Your body says 'Kate need Sergei instead of puny John.' It says 'Kate never
been properly satisfied.'"  
  
"You're insane!" I said, and managed to push myself away and stumble back.
Unfortunately, back until I hit the bed with the back of my knees and fell
onto it.  
  
He came forward, and I kicked with all my might, first with my right foot, and
then with my left.  
  
He easily caught each ankle in those weathered and scarred fists. He held them
tight.  
  
"You think Sergei never fight before? Many fights. Always win. Sergei too
strong. Sergei too fast."  
  
He held my feet up, almost lifting me from the bed. Only my shoulders
supporting me. "Kate's feet tender like girl." He brought his mouth close and
sucked in my big toe. Then with his tongue, he washed between each toe while
making disgusting sounds of delight at what he tasted.  
  
"NOOO!" I screamed.  
  
He merely repeated the action on the other foot.  
  
I kept pulling and kicking with my legs, but was powerless. He stood up and
placed the soles of my feet on either side of his erect penis, pressed them
tight, and started fucking between them. "Aahh!" escaped his lips.  
  
But, that didn't last long. "Sergei returns favor now. Is that what Americans
say?"  
  
"Enough ... enough," I said. I had no idea about returning what favors meant.  
  
He maintained his grip on my ankles and bent my legs back towards me until
they were pressed onto the bed close to my ears. This raised my hips off the
bed.  
  
"See what Sergei means," he said while dropping his head down.  
  
"NOOOO!" I screamed as I felt his rough tongue on my vagina. Now I understood.
I had sucked his cock, and returning the favor meant he was going to use his
mouth on me (something John had never wanted to do).  
  
His tongue circled my vagina then he sucked at it expertly. I knew he was
tasting, savoring my most intimate part. His mouth ventured lower, covered my
asshole and probed deep with the stiff end of his tongue. I reacted as if I
had been hit with an electrified wire. My hips leaped.  
  
"Kate like. Sergei can tell."  
  
But, he had saved the most telling and horrifying for last. His filthy mouth
kissed, licked, and sucked its way up to my clitoris. When he found it, he
teased and tongued it gently for several minutes while I wildly tried to twist
away from his evil intentions.  
  
Then he sucked it into his mouth and surrounded it with his lips.  
  
"NOOOOO!" I screamed.  
  
Sensitively, tenderly, he nibbled and licked it. Then began a rhythmic
alternation of sucking and pressing with the flat of his tongue. Not hard, but
steady.  
  
My body had been exhausted by the efforts to free myself. I lay there trying
to regain my breath and thinking of what to do next. That's when my hips took
on a life of their own. They jerked once, then again. Not big, giant
movements, but micro-motions that were gaining force.  
  
"Nooo!" I whispered. "No!" That changed to "Aaahh!"  
  
Sergei stopped to lift his big round face to grin at me. The sight of his
mouth framed by my red pubic hair appalled me. "Stop!" I croaked.  
  
"Kate says 'stop' but body say 'please continue, Sergei.'"  
  
"You're crazy!" I managed to say before his mouth resumed on my clit. Then all
I could say was "Oooohhh!"  
  
My mind was becoming fuzzy, my breathing increasing until it was only panting,
my hips gyrated, and the room was fading from my sight.  
  
Then, he stopped.  
  
My eyes flew open, and I had a mixture of thoughts and emotions.  
  
"Sergei see Kate ready. So many juices flowing."  
  
What was he thinking? What was he saying? His words were a blur in my
overwrought mind.  
  
He put my feet on his shoulders and encircled my body with his great arms,
pinning all four of my limbs in his tight embrace. As if my 120 pounds was
nothing, this brute lifted me off the bed and stood there grinning at me as he
held me suspended. I was folded in half against the leering Russian.  
  
He stood, as if waiting for me to realize what was going to happen.  
  
"Put me down. Please—put me down."  
  
"Sergei obeys Kate. See."  
  
He lowered me, and my crotch slid along the hairy bulge of his stomach. Lower
and lower until something hard, yet spongy probed the entrance of my vagina.  
  
"NOOO!" I screamed as it hit me—I was being lowered onto the old man's erect
penis, and the position he had me in made me powerless to do anything about
it.  
  
"Your woman part feels Sergei's manhood for first time. Admit to Sergei Kate
already wondered what Sergei feel like inside Kate."  
  
"Let me GO!" A rush of shame added to all else I was feeling. The night
before, my mind HAD flashed to that very scenario. After feeling the size and
hardness of that penis in my hand and mouth, I had naturally imagined what the
massive weapon would do to a woman.  
  
I shook my body as much as I could and managed to dislodge myself. But, he was
immensely strong and had immense patience to match. He again and again raised
me up and slowly slid me toward that waiting prong.  
  
On his fourth try, the head of his penis firmly lodged against the saliva-
slickened entrance of my vagina.  
  
"No! I'm to be married soon. You're too big ... you'll hurt me ... ruin me!"  
  
"Sergei ruin you. Yes! Ruin you for other men. Puny men. You forever remember
and say 'not like Sergei, not man like Sergei!'"  
  
He let me slip down. "OWW!" I yelled as the head found its way inside me.
Inch-by-agonizing-inch he impaled me on his penis.  
  
"All the while he talked softly and soothingly into my ear. Some in English
and some in Russian. All hypnotically rhythmic and sing-song.  
  
"Sergei halfway," he said at one point. Halfway? Already he was probing
territory that John had never reached.  
  
The elastic walls of my vagina were now accommodating themselves to his great
girth. The pain was subsiding. Sweat covered my body. Sweat covered both our
bodies—mine from the ordeal, his from the exertion.  
  
I had nearly passed out. I was physically and mentally exhausted. But the last
shreds of my consciousness registered that I was now lying on the bed. My new
bed, the one that John had wanted to "break in." Somehow, he had, without
disengaging himself, maneuvered us to the center of the bed. He had released
my legs and arms and his weight crushed down on me in the standard missionary
position. It was HE who was going to break in our bed. The old man was going
to break it in with the 21-year-old bride-to-be—ME!  
  
"So beautiful beneath Sergei. We make handsome couple."  
  
The words seemed far away. But they registered. I could only imagine what we
looked like: his dark skin made even darker by the wild tangle of sweaty hair
covering his body—pressed against my peaches and cream skin. His balding head
nuzzling my red hair. A vile old man grunting and sweating over a young girl.  
  
My body lay lifeless. No strength, no will. I now wanted it to just be over.
He was fully inserted in me. I felt a pressure within me like no other I had
ever felt. A fullness bordering on bursting. But, the worst of the pain had
passed.  
  
And emotionally, the worst for me had passed. I now just had to endure and
survive. I tried to make my mind go to another place: to John, to the wedding,
to my future.  
  
"We begin ... slowly we begin. Sergei great lover. Sergei knows woman's body."  
  
I had expected a brutal assault. What I got was a performance. He withdrew to
the tip of his penis, waited there for my vagina to reassume its shape, and
then incrementally invade me again. He had propped himself on his elbows and
knees so the crushing force of his bodyweight no longer constrained me.  
  
For five minutes, my mind and body were silent. Then, on one of his
excruciatingly slow thrusts, my hips tilted upward, meeting him in the motion.
I didn't notice it, but he did.  
  
"My Kate. Kate's body says 'hello, Sergei.'"  
  
More minutes passed. Now every thrust of his was met with my lifting my hips.  
  
His patience was astounding. He quickened only a little. More minutes, and my
legs grew restless: my feet started to slide small caresses along his hairy
thighs.  
  
"Da ... da!" he whispered in my ear. Even I knew that meant "yes" but had no
idea why he said it. That's how far disconnected my mind was from my body.  
  
He lowered his head and took my left nipple into his mouth. There was no rush
or aggressive action. It was slightly more than a kiss, but I felt a sensation
rush through my chest and my hips gave a jerk.  
  
"No ..." I whispered. I put my hands on his hairy chest, trying to push him
away. He moved to the other nipple and applied greater suction than before.  
  
"Ohh," I said. My pushing hands slid around his torso and began rubbing
against his hairy back.  
  
"Kate knows. Kate's body knows."  
  
"No ... stop ... please." My voice seemed like it came from another room or
another time.  
  
He transferred his mouth to my neck and kissed and bit and sucked, all with
equal delicacy.  
  
"Mmmm," I grunted in my throat.  
  
He tried to kiss me, but I turned my head. He didn't persist. Instead, he
concentrated on his pace. That increased.  
  
"Kate is ready. You will remember Sergei each time in the future. Kate will
long for Sergei's touch and recall how Sergei brings Kate pleasure Kate can
get no other way." His voice was hypnotic.  
  
"No," I said, but my body increased its pace also.  
  
"Say fuck me, Sergei. Fuck me!"  
  
"NO! No!" I had one last shred of respect for myself, for John that I was
determined to hold onto.  
  
More speed, more pressure both inside and out. The greater force of his
thrusts meant he was forcing himself into me farther that ever before. But,
that didn't cause pain, but only new awakening sensations of pleasure.  
  
I couldn't believe it. All the times John had made love to me never had made
me feel remotely like this.  
  
With one last effort of will, I tried to push him off me and twist away from
under him.  
  
He easily held me in place, but it prompted him to piston into me now at full
speed. His breath was fast and rasping in my ear. He put more weight on me and
that put pressure directly on my clitoris.  
  
"Aaahh!" I cried. My legs went up around him and tightened to pull him deeper.
My arms went again to his back and I hugged as hard as I could.  
  
My hips matched his speed, and my mind finally caught up with the situation:
he wasn't just fucking ME—I was fucking HIM!  
  
"Say Sergei's name," he commanded into my ear.  
  
"No!" I whispered back.  
  
"Say Sergei's name," he said again. Then put more weight on my hips.  
  
"Aaagghh!" I breathed out in one long glorious sigh.  
  
He sought out my open mouth and plunged his tongue deep into it. My tongue
reacted and met his and danced with it until I stuck it deep into his mouth
and probed furiously.  
  
Then, as if in slow motion, my body stiffened. I squeezed my eyes shut and
tore my mouth away.  
  
"SERGEI! SERGEI!" I screamed.  
  
He put his full weight on me, plunging him to the greatest depth yet.  
  
"I'M CUMMING! OHHH! I'M CUMMING! It was my voice echoing in the small bedroom.  
  
I stayed on that peak, voiceless for another fifteen seconds, writhing under
the old man. Then he let out a mighty triumphant roar: "AAAAAAHHHHH!" while
holding himself deep inside me.  
  
And I knew he was sending torrents of that thick hot Russian cum to the
farthest reaches of my womb.  
  
That was my last thought before I passed out.  
  
Snoring brought me to. Loud snoring.  
  
Sergei lay on his back, a sweaty, hairy mess of a man. Totally unconscious
from his exertions. I looked and wondered what I was feeling. There was anger
and shame and exhaustion and something else too. It would take time for it all
to come together in my mind.  
  
"TIME!" I thought. I looked at the clock. John was due to come home in a half
hour. I couldn't believe how long we had been in bed.  
  
I pushed at the inert mountain beside me. "Wake up! WAKE UP!"  
  
He coughed and grunted and cleared his throat until he finally opened his
eyes. "My Kate!" he smiled. It sounded like he gargled the words.  
  
"Your nothing, you pervert! Get up. You have to leave. John can't catch you
here ... can't catch us ..."  
  
"Sergei understand. Puny John feel inadequate when he sees new Kate."  
  
"Shut up! Just leave. NOW!"  
  
"Wait," he said. "Phone," he said. He pulled his phone from somewhere I had
dropped it. He fiddled with the screen, then showed me play screen of the
video he had taken of me giving him the blowjob.  
  
With a thick finger, he touched the trashcan icon and it said "Do you want to
delete" and he pushed "Yes."  
  
"Poof!" he said. "Sergei never lie. Sergei many things. Liar, not one."  
  
I somehow didn't find that very comforting.  
  
He got up and got dressed. I hugged the covers around me, shielding my naked
body from his gaze.  
  
"This," he said waving his hand toward me and the bed, "this Sergei's wedding
gift to Kate." When I looked like I was going to explode with words in his
direction, he held up his hand. "And, this," he made the same gesture, "Kate's
birthday gift to Sergei. Sergei seventy on wedding day."  
  
He looked like he was waiting for a "happy birthday" from me. I was silent.  
  
"Another thing Sergei not do. Sergei does not bother married women. This was
one time. You married, no more. Sergei bothers no married women." As he left
the room, he added, "Except woman make choice." From the front door I heard,
"Poof! Sergei gone."  
  
I sat there for a few minutes, shaking my head. How did this happen? How did
this all happen. AND—how could I do those things I did with that man?  
  
I looked down and said to myself, "John, I'd say our bed has been broken in."  
  
*******************************  
  
My mind remained a jumble of thoughts. Should I call the police? Should I call
John? Should I shut up? What?  
  
Sergei had certainly forced himself on me—up to a point. After that point I
was more than a willing participant. I felt so conflicted, and so guilty. I
guess this is why so much stuff goes unreported.  
  
And, the wedding. What would it do to the wedding and all the planning and all
the guests and all anticipation? It was too much to think about.  
  
And what about John? What would he think of his fiancée if he knew that Sergei
had deposited a big load of cum inside his bride-to-be? And what would he
think if he knew Sergei had made me cum like I never had in my whole life.
Like I never imagined possible? What would he think if he knew Sergei's big
cock had made me shiver and groan as I tried to get it deeper and deeper
inside of me?  

Whoa! Kate! Calm yourself down. What are you thinking?  
  
I would wait until John got home before I made a decision. He was always so
logical and smart. I would feel out the situation and go from there.  
  
I had time for a quick shower. I started the water and took my robe off. I
looked at my legs and long trails of dried cum reached all the way to my
knees. The tremendous amount Sergei had filled me with couldn't be contained
in my pussy. It had leaked out.  
  
"Oh my God! I can't believe how much I made Sergei cum!" I said out loud. When
I heard myself, I noticed two things: that I was calling him "Sergei" and that
my voice had a little pride in it. Could I actually be happy I made Sergei cum
so hard?  
  
I showered, and it wasn't the same as the day before. I luxuriated in the hot
water, feeling my body, its power to make a man lust over it. Every place I
touched reminded me of Sergei's hands or his mouth ... or his cock. The day
before I had felt degraded and lessened. Today I felt I was blooming into the
woman I always was meant to be. My body, after that shocking orgasm, felt more
alive than it had ever been before. Like it finally recognized its true self.  
  
Was I in shock or going crazy? Would I return to normalcy? Ever?  
  
As I was drying off, I heard John calling.  
  
"I'll be right out!" I said.  
  
But, John came into the bathroom. He had seen me naked a hundred times over
the years we were together. Out of nowhere, I took the towel and held it up in
front of me, like he was a stranger who just barged in. Where did THAT come
from?  
  
"Not getting shy right before the wedding, are you?" he laughed.  
  
"I guess I'm a little on edge. New apartment, big night tonight and the big
day so close." I hesitated and finished drying.  
  
John got close and hugged me. I hugged back and couldn't help feel how easily
my arms went all the way around him. I noticed for the first time what a frail
build he had. He felt like a girl in my arms.  
  
"We have just enough time ... you know ..." He nodded toward the bedroom.  
  
"John, I told you it's best to wait until the wedding night. To make it
special." What I didn't tell him was earlier I was ravaged by a raging Russian
until the top of my head blew off while he shot copious amounts of DNA-laden
goo into my pussy.  
  
"It's just seeing you like this. I mean, I need something."  
  
"Fine," I said. I don't know why he made me angry, but I acted spontaneously.  
  
I dropped the towel on the tile floor, knelt on it, and went to John's belt.
"What are you doing?" he asked. I didn't answer and proceeded to take down his
pants and underwear. I did it roughly. I wanted to get this over.  
  
"Kate, this isn't like you."  
  
Before he could say another word, I stuffed his little cock in my mouth. It
felt so small and soft. I sucked at it, and finally it showed some life.  
  
"Easy! Easy! You know how sensitive I am."  
  
Sensitive? Sergei would have hardly felt the pressure I was applying. I
stopped sucking at all and let my lips barely slide over the tiny pink thing.
Those lips were almost in a pucker to make any contact. Sergei had stretched
them so far it hurt.  
  
John's fully erect cock didn't even reach halfway into my mouth, and wasn't a
threat to ever reach my throat like Sergei's.  
  
"That feels so good, darling," John said in a sweet voice. Sergei had been so
rough and forceful. I should have liked "sweet," but somehow it made me ...
disappointed.  
  
John kept his soft, uncallused hands suspended in the air, vaguely waving in
little motions. He made no move to take my head and control me. Like Sergei
had.  
  
I backed my mouth off until only the tip of John's penis remained covered. My
right hand went to encircle it, but didn't have enough room for all my
fingers, so I used light pressure from my thumb, index finger, and middle
finger to give little jerking motions.  
  
"Easy!" John said. A second later, he whined: "Goodness!" And he came in my
mouth.  
  
I could hardly tell it had happened. It barely added to the volume of saliva I
already had in there. John's cum tasted like a couple of drops of grapefruit
soda, and I swallowed it without thinking.  
  
John's knees got weak, and I swear if I hadn't held him and guided him to sit
on the toilet seat, he would have fallen over. I thought to myself: "Sergei
had been fucking me standing up, supporting BOTH of us!"  
  
John looked at me with wide eyes. "That was the best EVER! I don't think I
ever came so hard. And ... you swallowed it. For the first time in your life
... you swallowed it!"  
  
I did my best to smile. "This is a special week," I said.  
  
*****************************  
  
I was mostly quiet on the drive back to our hometown about two hours from our
new apartment in the city.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts!" John chimed happily. He was in a great mood since
his "big" sex performance.  
  
"So much to think about!" I tried to match John's cheery tone. "How our lives
are changing. The rehearsal, the wedding! So much!"  
  
"Don't forget the honeymoon!"  
  
"How could I forget THAT!" I said with an excited voice. It was ONLY my voice
that was excited. John's lovemaking was so proper and gentle and tender—and
uninspired. I hadn't noticed it before. I noticed it now.  
  
Sergei was rough. He didn't ask—he commanded. I had been shocked and offended.
But my body responded in ways I would have never dreamed. Where John's touch
was slight, Sergei's had bordered on brutal. My skin had been electrified
under his grasp. He had called up in me some primitive instinct that had to
respond to his rhythms and force and power, so that I finally—  
  
"Kate. Are you even listening to me?" John asked. He had been talking, but my
mind had drifted away, drifted to the afternoon, drifted to our bedroom.  
  
"Of course, John. Go on."  
  
"So I said to Henry at work, we'll have to rewrite ..."  
  
I looked out the window of the car and tried to keep one ear attuned to when
John stopped talking.  
  
My phone beeped the familiar signal saying I had a text message.  
  
"Those girls aren't going to leave you alone, are they?"  
  
My sister, the Maid of Honor, and others in the wedding party had been sending
me texts for the last few days.  
  
I looked, but this was from a number I didn't recognize.  
  
It read: Sergei think of Kate  
  
I was going to ignore it, but texted: How did you get this number?  
  
SERGEI: Tenant give #  
  
Of course. We had filled out contact information with our rental agreement.  
  
KATE: Poof! You are gone. Leave me alone.  
  
I decided not to use any shortcuts in texting him. He could barely speak
English as it was.  
  
SERGEI: Kate think of Sergei  
  
I considered not responding. A part of me was still angry. Angry at getting
duped into giving him a blowjob. Angry at getting blackmailed into stripping
myself naked. Angry at this caveman forcing me to have sex with him. And, most
of all, angry at myself for ultimately succumbing to the raw passion he plied
me with.  
  
Another part of me wanted to give him a piece of my mind. Texting is a strange
thing. It lets you say things you normally wouldn't have the courage to say
face-to-face. There's that barrier you can hide behind. And, you can run away
any time by merely shutting your phone off.  
  
KATE: No! I never want to think of you again. Or what you did to me. Go away!  
  
"Who is it?" John asked.  
  
"My sister," I said. John left me alone when my sister and I got going.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei think of Kate's beautiful skin so soft  
  
KATE: Stop it.  
  
SERGEI: Kate think Sergei ugly Sergei not always ugly  
  
I couldn't think of what to say to that other than:  
  
KATE: I'm hanging up.  
  
But before I could another text came with a picture attached. It was of a boy
maybe my age dressed in a red wrestling singlet with "CCCP" written in capital
letters across the chest. It was obviously Sergei, with his bulging muscles.
In those days, he had more hair on his head than his body. That had reversed
itself along the way.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei train 1968 Olympics  
  
By reflex, without thinking of who I was talking to I texted back.  
  
KATE: You were in the Olympics?  
  
SERGEI: Father die dream die Sergei take care of mother and 3 young brothers
no Olympics  
  
I didn't respond. I didn't know how to respond.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei not always ugly no  
  
KATE: I have to go.  
  
SERGEI: Kate beautiful all beautiful every part  
  
KATE: I have to go.  
  
SERGEI: Tell Sergei Kate feel beautiful today  
  
KATE: Stop it.  
  
SERGEI: You call Sergei's name today  
  
I had to think back. Then, I remembered: right before my orgasm I had shouted
his name.  
  
KATE: Stop it.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei think Kate's pussy taste sweetest of all  
  
I gasped. I had forgotten that Sergei had spent time devouring my pussy.
Licking it and sucking on my clitoris. My mind had been blocked from so many
details by that awful orgasm that shook the foundations of my being.  
  
KATE: You have to stop. John is sitting right here driving.  
  
SERGEI: Puny John like taste Kate's pussy  
  
KATE: None of your business. Stop it.  
  
I didn't know why I didn't just hang up. I kept looking for an opening to let
all my feelings attack him. But, he was keeping me off balance. I don't know
what made me want to continue with this man after what I had been through.  
  
The truth was John had never performed oral sex on me. He didn't know how my
pussy tasted, so he had no opinion at all that was based on experience.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei think puny John not satisfy Kate's body  
  
KATE: That's not true. John is a better lover than you'll ever be!  
  
I hoped that would deflate that big bag of wind!  
  
SERGEI: When Kate cum today Sergei feel she let go of long passion  
  
I looked at his words for a long time. My mouth was open. Here was a stranger
talking to me about a most intimate detail—how my body responded during an
orgasm—and absolutely nailing his observation. I couldn't ever let him know he
was right.  
  
KATE: You're crazy and I'm stopping this right now.  
  
SERGEI: Admit Sergei that best cumming for Kate's life  
  
KATE: You're a pervert. A crazy pervert!  
  
SERGEI: Kate's pussy tighten squeeze Sergei's cock when Kate cum  
  
I didn't know if that was true. I thought back and remembered the feeling. I
did feel a pressure I exerted when I came. He was right.  
  
KATE: You have to stop.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei always able to control but Kate's pussy make Sergei lose
control and cum hardest in life  
  
I remembered that mighty roar of his as he sent his seed into me. Was there
surprise in that yell as well as satisfaction? Looking back, I thought it was
likely. I had made Sergei cum like he never had before. Why was I enjoying
that sordid fact? I felt a little smile on my face.  
  
We had arrived at our hometown.  
  
KATE: We're here. I have to go.  
  
SERGEI: Kate have things she wants to tell Sergei so Kate feel better  
  
KATE: I have nothing to say to you. EVER!  
  
SERGEI: Maybe Kate think of insult for Sergei later Sergei go  
  
That was all. We pulled up to my parents' house and I shut my phone off.  
  
John saw the look on my face and asked, "Everything all right?"  
  
"Great!" I lied. That lie was better than saying "I just found out I was the
best fuck in a 70-year-old ex Russian Olympic wrestler's life."  
  
*********************************  
  
"John's perfect for you," my sister said. She was six years older than me and
already had two kids. She had come over to say hi before the rehearsal.  
  
"I guess," I said. We were in my bedroom at my parents', a room that held so
many memories for me.  
  
"You don't sound as sure as you did on the phone a few days ago."  
  
I think tonight I sounded as sure as a girl can be when still filled with
another man's cum. "Night before jitters, probably," I said.  
  
"That's natural," she said. Janice was always full of good advice. "I almost
ran away the night before my wedding."  
  
"I remember you didn't think you wanted to be tied down at the last second."  
  
"Tied down, handcuffed, spanked!" she said and laughed. I must have had
strange look on my face.  
  
"I forgot I'm talking to my straight-laced little sister. You probably only do
it in the dark still!" She laughed. "That's why I said you're perfect for John
and he's perfect for you. You'll never scare each other with something wild or
kinky or out of the ordinary. Just the missionary position on Tuesdays and
Saturdays and birthdays!"  
  
She found this VERY funny, and laughed for a long time. She poked at me to get
me to laugh, but I only gave a pretend "Ha! Ha!" with a straight face. What
did she know—John wanted it on Wednesdays and Sundays. Janice wasn't doing me
any good here. And ... Sergei ... damned Sergei ... with his texting ... and
his big cock ... forcing me ... forcing himself on me ... forcing me to cum!  
  
"Kate? You listening?"  
  
"Yeah. Birthdays. You leave John alone. He's a good man and he loves me."  
  
"I was joking. I'm just saying he's not the most spontaneous or adventurous
guy I've ever met. Just like you. That's why you'll be perfect together. No
surprises. I have to go. See you tonight."  
  
She gave me a hug, then held me at arm's length. "What's up with you? You've
got a different vibe going?"  
  
Sisters know each other. She was picking up on things John would never
recognize in a million years.  
  
"Nervous, I guess," I said, hoping that would cover.  
  
"Yeah. Okay," she said. "Get a little rest before the rehearsal. It's going to
be a big whirlwind for the next few days."  
  
I wanted to tell her the whirlwind began yesterday with my first swallow of
cum and continued this afternoon with being lowered onto a huge cock. And, oh,
by the way, an old man gave me the biggest orgasm of my life. I'd say that
qualified as the start of the whirlwind, thank you very much.  
  
It's all Sergei's fault. I shouldn't be having these feelings. I shouldn't be
having any doubts. I should be the happiest girl in the world right now.
Sergei should be ashamed of himself for what he was putting me through. He
probably had no idea of the torment I was going through. If he did, he would
apologize.  
  
Apologize! Yeah! That would make me feel better. If he apologized!  
  
I swiped my phone alive. I chose the end of our conversation and texted:  
  
KATE: You should apologize.  
  
Nothing happened for a minute, and I thought he was out doing landlord stuff,
knocked out from his afternoon "workout" or combing his chest hair or
something. I was about to put my phone to sleep when he replied.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei sorry  
  
Good, I thought. He probably was having some severe guilt about what he had
put me through.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei sorry Kate never cum like that before  
  
Damn him!  
  
KATE: You know nothing about me, asshole!  
  
That would show him I meant business.  
  
KATE: Sergei taste Kate's asshole with tongue Kate shiver when Sergei lick  
  
My God! I forgot about that. Until now. Until I remembered now how I tightened
my butt cheeks when he invaded my anus with his tongue.  
  
KATE: I demand an apology.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei sorry puny John not know Kate's body  
  
KATE: This isn't about John. This is about what you did to me. It's not what I
wanted and you took advantage.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei see puny John not appreciate beautiful Kate and want Kate know
real man know Kate is magnificent  
  
It took a long time for that to come through and I could picture Sergei's
giant fingers trying to type on that phone. I smiled in spite of the
situation.  
  
I smiled also because I recognized the truth of his statement, although I had
never admitted it to myself before. John took me for granted and didn't
appreciate my devotion to him, my intelligence, or ... my body. Sergei,
despite his roughness, had made me feel desired, lusted for, beautiful. Like a
jewel. My body had responded to that and ultimately matched his passion.
Something John had never, ever sparked in me.  
  
KATE: You're SO wrong!  
  
That felt SO lame after what Sergei had made me realize as the truth.  
  
SERGEI: So Kate say Sergei not make Kate feel special  
  
KATE: You make me disgusted. Apologize.  
  
SERGEI: Kate say her body not feel different  
  
KATE: Just violated.  
  
SERGEI: Kate say she not like Sergei's cock in her mouth in her pussy  
  
Seeing the word "pussy" made me squeeze my legs together, and a jolt went
through me. It brought images to my mind of that "thing" residing between his
hairy thighs. Could I really have had "that" in my mouth? Could "that" have
really fit so deep inside of me.  
  
I squeezed harder and rocked a little.  
  
KATE: You're disgusting. John is all the man I need.  
  
SERGEI: Puny John not satisfy gorgeous Kate not any more maybe never has  
  
I thought John and I had a good sex life. But, that was before I knew what a
real orgasm felt like.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei need photo of beautiful Kate to look at  
  
KATE: You're nuts. Never!  
  
SERGEI: Sergei has no photo after delete Kate cocksucker video  
  
Cocksucker! Oh my God. I was LITERALLY a cocksucker, but to see it written
there shocked me.  
  
KATE: You're disrespectful.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei has highest respect for beautiful Kate  
  
KATE: You don't show it.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei show by worshipping Kate her body her feet her breasts her ass
her pussy  
  
Oh my God! He DID worship me this afternoon. That's exactly what it felt like.
There was a reverence right beneath that brutality. I hadn't been able to put
my finger on why I hadn't felt the fear I should have during it. There was
that worship that let me know I wouldn't be hurt.  
  
KATE: Stop it.  
  
SERGEI: Most beautiful Sergei ever see face and body and when you cum Kate
make Sergei know Kate appreciate Sergei too  
  
A long time went by as I tried to process what he had just said. He waited for
me to reply.  
  
KATE: Let's just say my body responded in a way that surprised me. It was a
reflex, a response. That's all.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei's cock inside Kate's beautiful tight pussy do nothing with
reflex  
  
KATE: Apologize.  
  
SERGEI: You want Sergei be sorry he make Kate cum  
  
I didn't know what to say to that.  
  
KATE: Apologize. And mean it.  
  
SERGEI: Tomorrow Kate married woman Sergei not talk again tonight send picture
of Kate so Sergei remember  
  
KATE: You should WANT to apologize to me if you have any decency at all.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei decent and honorable man  
  
KATE: Those disgusting photos and DVDs you said were John's. Are owning THOSE
decent?  
  
SERGEI: Previous tenant leave in closet hidden Sergei already destroy  
  
KATE: You blackmailed me. That's not decent.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei see how puny John treat Kate and want Kate see man appreciate
and treasure Kate but da Sergei sees Sergei wrong  
  
The word "wrong" confused me. Part of me hoped it didn't mean I wasn't worthy
of that kind of appreciation and desire.  
  
KATE: Wrong.  
  
I wrote that one word.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei wrong to trick Sergei apologize for trick but wants Kate to
know  
  
KATE: Know what?  
  
SERGEI: Know puny John luckiest man and Sergei hope he finds ways all ways to
make Kate happy  
  
"You fuckin' idiot!" I whined to the screen as tears welled up in my eyes.
"Why couldn't you just say you were sorry instead of that?"  
  
KATE: I accept your apology. I have to go.  
  
SERGEI: Sergei respectfully want picture of Kate to see in Sergei's mind all
the beauty of Kate but wish to view on phone when imagination fades  
  
KATE: No. Goodbye.  
  
SERGEI: As birthday gift to Sergei  
  
That's right. His birthday was tomorrow. Seventy. It was hard to imagine he
was that old. What was he like in his prime?  
  
KATE: I'll think about it.  
  
Why would I even consider it? What was the power this man had?  
  
SERGEI: Surprise Sergei something he would worship  
  
KATE: Goodbye.  
  
I ended the conversation and sat there thinking it all over.  
  
Why should I even consider sending him a picture? He would probably just
masturbate with it. That thought made me laugh.  
  
"You old pervert," I giggled.  
  
I picked a blank space of wall and posed against it for a selfie I'd send him.
Then, two thoughts collided in my head: my sister accusing me of never being
spontaneous, and Sergei requesting something he could worship.  

"Janice, how's THIS for spontaneous!" I said to the air in my room.  
  
I pulled my pants down, and then my panties. I did a semi-squat, put the phone
between my legs and snapped a pic of my pussy. My red-haired pussy!  
  
Before my courage faded (or was it my spontaneity I thought might evaporate?),
I wrote "Worship THIS! Happy birthday!" and texted the photo to Sergei.  
  
I IMMEDIATELY regretted it and felt guilty.  
  
"What the HELL was I thinking?" I said to myself as I paced the room.
"Well—too late now."  
  
After a minute, I heard my phone. I had a message. From Sergei.  
  
It said "Sergei thanks you happy marriage."  
  
It also had a photo attached:  
  
It was the biggest erect penis I had ever seen. It had a huge head with a dark
purple ring defining it. The massive shaft showed a network of veins that
struggled to feed it to keep it rock hard. It was Sergei's magnificent cock.
It being hard was one thing, but adding to it: I knew it was hard because he
was thinking of me.  
  
Had I REALLY had that in my mouth? Had that monster REALLY invaded my pussy
all the way? Had it fed cum to my mouth and throat? Had it showered my pussy
with its contents? I shook my head and laughed.  
  
"OH MY GOD!" I said. And then squeezed my thighs together, and rocked.  
  
****************************  
  
"Do you think I have pretty feet?"  
  
"They're feet, Kate. Made for walking on," John said.  
  
We were finally in our room, the Honeymoon Suite at the Muir Redwood Bed &amp;
Breakfast. It had been 24 hours so filled with activities and details I hadn't
thought once of our wedding night.  
  
Everyone loved my dress, and Dad looked so proud as he walked me down the
aisle. I had only thought of Sergei and what had happened between us during
that short walk. I wondered if having another man's cum inside you when you
took your wedding vows was like crossing your fingers when making a promise?  
  
I kept my smile big. I guess I was mostly happy, and another day's distance
from what Sergei had made me feel insulated me to a degree. I saw our
grandparents and looked at John's grandfather, and then at my grandfather.
Their ages were 68 and 66, respectively.  
  
Here they were GRANDFATHERS—and they were younger than Sergei, the man who had
fucked me until I screamed his name and tried to crush his penis with my pussy
when I had a volcanic orgasm. I doubted if either of these two could still
lift a bag of apples, let alone carry around a 120-pound girl.  
  
We said our "I do's" and put on our rings. John kissed the bride ... and I was
married. I was on the other side of that barrier. I was safe from Sergei.  
  
That should have made me happy.  
  
Everyone ate and danced and sang and gave great toasts. None of the toasts
made me feel more than the one Sergei had said the night before.  
  
My sister hugged me more than she ever had, except when she had backed into me
on my bike the week after she got her license and I hurt my elbow.  
  
"You're a married woman now," she told me several times.  
  
"John's my husband!" I said back.  
  
My husband and I drove an hour to the Muir Redwood and checked in. It was
already 9:30, and we were both pretty overwhelmed and exhausted.  
  
"Going to carry me across the threshold?" I had asked.  
  
"You're joking, right?"  
  
"It IS a tradition," I said, still hopeful.  
  
"Yeah, when men had to manhandle women to get them into bed. Men who broke
their backs all day long to earn a dollar. Now real men use their minds, like
your brand new husband!"  
  
He unlocked the door and went in first, not looking back after me. I had a
good idea I was in no danger of being manhandled.  
  
"You use the bathroom first," he suggested. "You won't want to go in there
after I'm through.  
  
I changed into the special lingerie I had chosen. It was a nightie made from
the same material as my veil, only much softer. "What would you think of
this?" I asked into the mirror. When I emerged, I did a little seductive walk
to the bed and twirled, making the nightie rise and reveal.  
  
"Looking good," John said. "I'll be out in a few."  
  
I was left alone on the big bed. This was the big night. The big event was
about to start. Everything was supposed to be so ... big. Why did I have the
feeling that the big stuff already happened?  
  
I had sat there looking at my feet, and that's what started me thinking about
what John thought of my feet.  
  
That's why I kept pressing him about the subject when he finally came out of
the bathroom naked. John had very little body hair. Almost none on his chest,
and a little patch of dark brown pubic hair. I had been thinking of that when
I started my foot interrogation.  
  
I continued:  
  
"Yeah, but do you think they're sexy?"  
  
"Sexy, as in do they give me an erection? Look," he said pointing to his
crotch at his limp penis. "Not sexy."  
  
I raised my foot with toes pointed. I aimed it at his face. "What if you kiss
it?" I was holding back on the suggestion that he suck my toes and lick in
between them.  
  
"Your sweaty foot? You had those new shoes on all day. Even you have to admit
it must have gotten pretty funky inside those."  
  
I took my smelly foot down.  
  
John leaned over and kissed me. I was fully prepared to be warmed up, won
over, seduced, ravaged, and be thoroughly satisfied.  
  
"Let's get this thing out of the way," he said, and tugged my nightie up and
inside out, catching my arms on the way. I heard a little tear. "Ooops," John
said, "well, it's not like we'll need this again, will we?"  
  
Now we were both naked on the bed.  
  
John started to get on top of me and I asked, "You know what I did for you ...
you know ... in the bathroom? Do you think you could do that for me?"  
  
"You mean tonight? I told you I would someday. Why don't we just concentrate
on enjoying ourselves tonight?"  
  
"You're right. We'll save that for a special night," I said. I was careful he
didn't see me roll my eyes.  
  
"Right. Now I've lost my concentration. Can you do your Kate magic for me."  
  
All the things that had seemed playful and important in our lovemaking were
seeming ... puny. The magic he was looking for was me jerking him to a full
erection. I did so mechanically, and he responded sufficiently.  
  
I wished at that moment I had never held Sergei's penis, never felt the
throbbing power of it, never known that such a thing ever existed or that
nature would endow some men with such a weapon of pleasure.  
  
John was "adequate" if one didn't have a firm grasp on what the word
"adequacy" meant. I had a firm grasp on what I now knew was a very little
penis.  
  
"Ready?" he asked and didn't wait for an answer.  
  
He rolled me flat and climbed aboard. I lifted my knees and John easily
penetrated me. The easiest time he ever had since we had been together.  
  
"God! You must be extra horny tonight! This feels great!"  
  
Either Sergei's supersized cock had stretched me, or some residual Russian
spermatic lubrication was helping John enjoy the ride.  
  
I put my arms around his slim, smooth body, and lifted my long legs, wrapping
them around his small butt. I pulled, aiming for greater penetration. I didn't
do a good job of it.  
  
He made little quick thrusts, which now reminded me of watching rabbits mate.
I maneuvered my best to get some contact on my clit, but it was all over
before I succeeded.  
  
"Oh ... oh! John said, sounding like he had just remembered something.  
  
I said nothing, because I had nothing to say, and no reason to say it. Our
"lovemaking" had ended before I even warmed up. I didn't feel John's
ejaculation, and didn't expect there to be a wet spot under me from any
overflow.  
  
He rolled off, out of breath. "Wow! You were right! Waiting made that the best
ever!"  
  
Unfortunately, the "best ever" had a new definition in my book. That
definition had been written a day before.  
  
"Yeah," I agreed. I figured that was what a wife was supposed to say.  
  
"Picture getting that on a regular basis now we're married," he whispered in
my ear.  
  
"I got the picture," I said back. I was telling the truth. The reality was
clear: this was what I could expect the rest of my married life.  
  
"See you in the morning, Mrs. John Burke," he said before drifting off to
sleep.  
  
"Kate Brennan," I said into the darkness.  
  
I lay there for a long time. I'd like to say I had a throbbing between my
legs, but it was more of an ache. Not a physical ache, but the ache you get
when something's missing.  
  
I got up and went to the bathroom and sat on the toilet in the more intimate
darkness that the closed door gave.  
  
My hand went to my pussy and rubbed. I brought my fingers to my lips and wet
them to give me some lubrication. But, guilt made me stop.  
  
Masturbating on your wedding night? Come on! What lame loser would do that?  
  
I had left my phone next to the sink. I grabbed it and for a moment thought of
texting Sergei. But, I would have felt even more guilty for being so disloyal.
And as a new wife!  
  
After fighting with temptation, I pulled up the picture of his cock. "Oh my
God!" I said as quietly as I could.  
  
Now there was a real throbbing "down there." My fingers went back to work;
they didn't need any saliva because my pussy started pumping out its own
elixir after looking at my phone.  
  
"Deep, Sergei, deep!" I whispered as my hand increased its speed.  
  
"Kate! You OK?" John called.  
  
I flushed the toilet, shut off my phone, washed my hands, and said, "I had to
clean up a little, that's all."  
  
I got back into bed, half-done. My observation: the first half of masturbating
is not the half you want if you get to choose.  
  
"Get used to that, baby," John said proudly before he drifted back to
oblivion.  
  
"I guess I'll have to," I said, to no one in particular.  
  
***************************  
  
The next week was filled with sightseeing, good food, and cruising up and down
the California coast.  
  
Lots of fun. And I have to admit, it was better than the first night.  
  
What it wasn't filled with was orgasms of any shape or form. None, nada, zip.
I was becoming increasingly edgy.  
  
By the time our honeymoon was over, I was downright cranky. I had developed a
passive/aggressive thing with John based on my feeling he wasn't trying very
hard to please me in the bedroom. We had made love each night, and I had
performed oral sex on him three times. Did he ever offer to do anything extra
or special? Nope! Didn't even enter his mind. I'll admit I didn't know the
right way to ask, but still—try a little bit, John. At least be sensitive
enough to know something's wrong.  
  
We got back to our new home and were bringing in our bags.  
  
"Mr. Zankov!" John said. He was in the hall of the first floor.  
  
The first sight of him made me look away in fear I would say or do something
that would betray what had happened. I wanted to rush upstairs with my heavy
suitcase and hide behind the locked door. It's not easy to be in the company
of the man who fucked you last AND the man who fucked you best.  
  
My rash action of sending him that photo of my pussy made me feel vulnerable
and guilty. Keeping that picture of this 70-year-old's cock made me feel weak
and ashamed.  
  
"Happy married couple return," he said. I had almost forgotten the sound of
his voice.  
  
"The new bride and groom," John said.  
  
Sergei looked at me, and I looked away. I wanted to rush up the stairs, but
Sergei grabbed at the handle of my suitcase.  
  
"Sergei help new bride."  
  
"I can do it myself," I said with a little too much frustration. I walked up
the stairs, leaving John behind.  
  
It was five minutes before John joined me in the apartment.  
  
Mr. Zankov had something very interesting to show me," he said.  
  
My heart beat so hard I could hear it. I was exposed, not just figuratively,
but literally. I just knew Sergei had shown the photo I sent him. What could I
do? I had to tell John everything. He was my husband and deserved an
explanation. I would throw my self upon his mercy and hoped he would forgive—  
  
"Did you know our landlord was on the Russian Olympic wrestling team? He
showed me a photo of when he was wrestling."  
  
I nearly collapsed in relief. "Hard to believe," I said with a shaky voice.  
  
"You probably noticed he's giving himself a makeover. Got his teeth fixed and
he shaved his head. He's got a long way before he looks human though. He's
like an animal, don't you think?" John let out a nasty laugh that made me
angry.  
  
A few weeks ago, I probably would have joined John from my ivory tower of
superiority and added jokes and insults. Now I looked on Sergei differently. I
wondered what John would have thought of seeing his wife sucking that animal's
cock? Or seeing that animal with his animal cock making his wife scream? Or
filling his new wife with more sperm than he could produce in a month?  
  
John, that animal had awakened something in your new wife that had been
calling to her every minute of our marriage. Something that I had to be very
careful of.  
  
"He said something happened that made him want to be a better man again.
Seeing the picture, you think? Or some old, dried up woman he has his eye on?"
John asked. "The old man has delusions if he thinks he can attract anyone.
And, he probably would need a bottle of viagra to even know he has anything in
his pants!" He laughed again.  
  
"You'd be surprised," I said. I surprised myself for blurting it out. What
needed to be said was "You'd be surprised by what's in his pants!" What I
finished with was "Lots of guys stay healthy longer these days." Healthy
enough to make your wife cum hard, anyway.  
  
"Don't bet on it! I'd pay to see him try and get romantic with some geriatric
grandma!" John walked out of the room.  
  
"What would you pay to see your wife fed a huge load of cum through his thick
cock?" I whispered. Low enough not to be heard.  
  
*********************************  
  
I managed to avoid all contact with Sergei for the first week back. But,
eventually, we saw each other here and there. Maybe in the hall, maybe passing
on the stairs. I was always with John, so the greetings were formal and
polite.  
  
John was right. Sergei had transformed remarkably in a short time. Shaving his
head had given him an altogether new appearance. His smile had been dentally
restored, and he seemed to have dropped some weight.  
  
Was I to feel I was the catalyst for this? I knew in my heart this was true.
He was trying to become a better man for me. I didn't know how to react to
that.  
  
I felt his eyes on me, devouring me, sending me messages from some place deep
within the maleness of his being. Something said: "I've possessed you,
dominated you, tamed you, freed you. You are mine!"  
  
Or maybe it was my imagination, fueled by increasing frustration over John's
ineptness in bed. I hadn't cum once since that afternoon with Sergei.  
  
The sight of him only brought back memories of his touch and the fierce way he
commanded me to please him and the brutal way my body responded.  
  
It was maddening. And it was crazy that I could be so turned on by a 70-year-
old man. Here I was, not even twenty-two and married to a young guy—and my
thoughts kept going back to being under that hairy bulk while he drove into me
with all his brutish strength. Crazy.  
  
"John! Kate!" he bellowed one day as we passed each other on the stairs.  
  
"Mr. Zankov," John nodded.  
  
Sergei's eyes traveled my length, and then he took me gently by the elbow.
"Kate must hold on banister so not fall," he said and put my hand onto the
rail. He patted the top of my and with his hairy paw. Then, let it linger
there, surrounding it and trapping it with a firm grip.  
  
A jolt shot through me. That forbidden secret we had, that only we knew, was
transmitted right in front of my husband.  
  
We went our separate directions, and when out of earshot, John said, "I think
you have an admirer."  
  
"Be serious!" I said with too much emphasis.  
  
"I think the old man is sweet on my honey!" he teased. "I'd better watch out
he doesn't start bringing you flowers and candy!" He laughed. When he saw the
look on my face, he interpreted it as fear and disgust for Sergei. "Kate! He's
a harmless old man. He's a puppy dog wagging his tail for attention."  
  
I had seen the tail he wagged. That tail had been in my mouth and my pussy. He
had wagged it there and the fear John saw on my face was the fear of my
weakness and the fear of those memories and the fear of my growing sexual
frustrations.  
  
*******************************  
  
Four days later, on his way out the door for work, John said, "I forgot to
write out the rent check. Write it out and drop it down to Mr. Zankov. It was
due yesterday."  
  
"Can't you do it?" I put that whine in my voice that usually worked with John.
Not this time.  
  
"I'm late!" he called over his shoulder.  
  
Great! I'd been successful in avoiding a confrontation with Sergei for almost
three weeks, and now this.  
  
But, why would I even have to see him. I'd write out the check, put it in an
envelope, and stuff it under his door. Perfect.  
  
Perfect until I found that the space under the forbidding door was not wide
enough. No matter how many times I tried, the envelope would bend and crinkle.
On my last attempt, the door flew open while I was on my knees.  
  
There stood Sergei, looming above me.  
  
"What pleasure see Kate. Great surprise. I hear scratch at door think cat. But
cat of different kind, I find."  
  
Did he mean pussy? Was he playing?  
  
He put his hands under my armpits before I could stop him and pulled me up to
my feet as if I were the evening newspaper left at his doorstep. He held me
suspended for a moment and then rested my feet to the floor for a soft
landing.  
  
Two words: "Your rent," I said. My plan was to hand him the envelope and
scurry upstairs and carry on with my assignment for the day: to be frustrated.
And when that succeeded, continue to look for a job in the city.  
  
But Sergei thwarted that plan when he turned without taking the envelope. He
left the door open and disappeared into the interior of his own apartment.  
  
I threw the envelope to the floor inside the apartment and turned to leave.  
  
"Rent late," came Sergei's voice from within.  
  
I wanted to leave. I should have left. But, John had said it was due
yesterday. I took the bait and called, "Just a day."  
  
"Rent late."  
  
I picked up the envelope and followed the sound of Sergei's voice. "It's only
a day. What is there some penalty? I'll write another check if there is."  
  
"Rent late."  
  
Sergei was in the bathroom. He had his shower dismantled. It looked like he
was doing a major plumbing and tiling repair. He washed his hands in the sink,
then turned to me.  
  
There had been a remarkable transformation. He looked different, maybe even
slimmer.  
  
He had on a huge black t-shirt that still showed the swell of his bull-like
muscles. Dark blue polyester Adidas shorts again covered those hairy thighs.  
  
He saw me surveying the shower. "Two days more, all done. Better than before.
Meantime, no shower."  
  
"About the rent. I'll call John," I said and pulled out my phone.  
  
"Still have picture?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Still have Sergei's picture? Sergei's cock?"  
  
"No!" I lied. "I deleted that the minute I saw what it was."  
  
"I delete Kate's pussy also."  
  
When he saw the look on my face, he laughed. "Sergei joke! Sergei prize Kate's
photo. Sergei's screensaver now!"  
  
Again he looked at me and laughed. "Sergei joke! Kate's photo only for Sergei
and is secret." He held his index finger to his lips and made a "shh" sound
and then pointed to himself and to me, indication it was our secret.  
  
I had actually looked at Sergei's photo every day. Its fascination had yet to
wear thin.  
  
"The check," I said.  
  
"Check. Okay check." He held his hand out and I extended the envelope in front
of me. He reached, but touched the envelope and then reached beyond it to my
bare arm. He slid his hand up to my elbow and grasped it when I reacted to
pull away.  
  
Instead, he pulled me close until our faces were inches apart. He found and
held fast my other elbow. I twisted, but knew from experience his strength
made escape impossible.  

"You think of Sergei?" His voice was slow and songlike.  
  
"No! Take the check or don't take it. Let me go, you're hurting me." That too
was a lie. His hands were rough cushions that exerted just enough pressure to
hold me. I knew he could crush me if he had wanted.  
  
"Sergei think of Kate. Think of Kate's softness, Kate's beauty. Kate more
lovely than Sergei's memory.  
  
"Let me go."  
  
"But Kate's face hide something new."  
  
"I have to go. John is going to call any minute to ask about the check." All
lies.  
  
"Kate's face show pain. Show sadness. Not there before."  
  
"You're crazy."  
  
"Sergei think Kate remember Sergei, remember feeling Sergei."  
  
He let go of my arms, and I should have bolted for the door. I didn't.  
  
"You forced me. You know what you did. You're lucky I didn't call the police.
Now just forget it. I did."  
  
"Sergei know woman's body. Kate's body know Sergei now. Kate compare puny John
and puny John disappointment. Da?"  
  
"John was right! You're an animal!" I said it with anger through clenched
teeth. But, my anger wasn't about Sergei, it was that he was 100% correct.  
  
"Perhaps Kate need animal. Need animal to bring animal Kate from cage."  
  
"I'm leaving."  
  
"You think of Sergei's cock in your hand."  
  
"No! You're delusional."  
  
"You think how big Sergei feels in Kate's hand."  
  
"No!"  
  
"Sergei bigger than puny John."  
  
I kept silent.  
  
"Sergei harder than puny John. Farther into pussy than puny John."  
  
He took my right hand. I struggled to free it, but he placed it flat against
his hard chest and dragged it down against him. I pulled with all my strength,
but he was able to keep contact with his body in a smooth glide.  
  
"Stop it. I don't want this."  
  
Lower he pulled my hand. Over his belly, which was noticeably smaller than
before.  
  
"Please, don't. I'm a married woman."  
  
"Married woman deserve choice."  
  
What did he mean "choice?"  
  
My hand kept traveling until finally I felt the outline of that huge thing I
had a picture of on my phone. I audibly gasped.  
  
"You like Sergei's cock."  
  
It wasn't a question, but I whispered, "No."  
  
His eyes looked into mine, and I was shaking my head "no." That massive thing
wasn't completely hard ... yet. I hadn't noticed that I stopped struggling
until he took his hand away from mine.  
  
And my hand remained where it was, pressing against an engorging penis
shielded only by a thin layer of polyester. He thrust his hips forward and
back a few times, making my hand glide over his penis.  
  
"Stop it," I said. I could have taken my hand away, but didn't.  
  
Sergei leaned forward and whispered into my ear, "Choice," then kissed my
cheek.  
  
He took my hand and snaked my fingers inside the top of his elastic waistband.
He wasn't wearing underwear. He started my hand downward, and I continued on
my own. My fingers were buried in the dense tangles of his body hair and then
the jungle of his pubic hair."  
  
"We have to stop ..." I said.  
  
"Choice."  
  
Then, my hand was on it. That hard, hot thick cylinder of flesh. My fingers
tried in vain to get all the way around it.  
  
"Oh my God!" I said.  
  
My fingers pulled up, and then down. I felt my hand go slick, and knew that
Sergei's cock was washing me in its precum.  
  
"Mr. Sergei! Mr. Sergei! Are you here? Your door was open!" A quavering female
voice broke in from the living room.  
  
"Bathroom, Mrs. Watkins!" Sergei roared. Then he laughed.  
  
I yanked my hand out of Sergei's shorts, and staggered back. Sergei laughed
again as if he found this immensely amusing. I was appalled. I almost got
caught jerking off my landlord.  
  
Mrs. Watkins came around the corner. She was the elderly neighbor below us.
Elderly—I bet she wasn't that much older than Sergei.  
  
I made a big show of presenting my envelope to Sergei. "Rent!" I said. My
voice was hoarse.  
  
"Oh! You must be the newlywed!" Mrs. Watkins said. This was the first time I
had seen her. She lived on the second floor with her husband. I had met him
only once in passing.  
  
Mrs. Watkins held out her hand. "You can call me Doris."  
  
"Kate," I said. I shook her right hand with my left, my non-precum-coated
hand. She gave a puzzled look, but smiled.  
  
"I have to go," I said. "Nice to meet you." I almost ran out of the
apartment."  
  
I only heard the first part of Mrs. Watkins saying, "You must come and fix
..."  
  
I slammed the door of my apartment behind me and said: "What were you
thinking, Kate!" I look at my hand, still gooey with Sergei's fluids. I
brought my palm to my nose and inhaled. There was an overpowering sharp odor
of musk. "Animal," I said.  
  
*******************************  
  
The doorbell rang twice during the morning. I didn't answer it. I didn't want
another encounter with my landlord who seemed to have weaved some spell over
me.  
  
I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I had done the things I had done.
While dating, many guys had tried to get sexual with me, but I never was at a
loss. I always could handle the situation.  
  
Not with Sergei. He had broken through some firewall I had relied on and
penetrated my defenses. The only defense I had left was avoidance. I would
avoid him as much as humanly possible.  
  
After the second doorbell alarm, I slipped out of the building and did errands
and caught a matinee of "Godzilla."  
  
I wandered the local mall until I was sure John would be home. I carried a
pizza in the door for dinner.  
  
While we ate, I kept thinking of what had happened. How I had stood there. How
weak I was, both physically and mentally when I was around Sergei. And—I
thought of how powerful he was—both in his forceful nature in handling me, and
also his raw physical power.  
  
I looked at the pizza slice in my hand and thought "Those same fingers were
wrapped around Sergei's hard cock." What a stupid thought with my new husband
sitting right there.  
  
The pressure between my legs was getting to be unbearable. The feel of
Sergei's cock again had brought up all the memories of that day, the day of my
orgasm. That fantastic, soul-liberating orgasm. And the memory of it only
highlighted that I hadn't experienced anything remotely close to that since.  
  
I cuddled, kissed, seduced, and almost begged John to make love to me. I
hungrily went down on him until he was erect. Then I pulled him on top of me
and ground and thrust against him with all my might. But, I was almost feeling
nothing from his puny cock.  
  
"Harder!" I said, "HARDER!"  
  
John stopped and in a clinical and academic tone, he said, "I read that if a
woman spreads her legs as far as she can and points her toes, it creates a
better sexual experience." Then he resumed his measured and moderate
performance. I didn't even make the effort to spread my legs with him. I lay
still until he gave a little grunt. I knew whatever trickle he had saved up
for me had trickled.  
  
I opened my eyes and he said to me, "I wish, just once, you would look into my
eyes and say 'John, I'm cumming.'"  
  
"Next time ... I promise," I said softly, then rolled over.  
  
********************************  
  
The next day was Saturday. I thought I would be safe with John home.  
  
But, two things conspired against me: John had a combination business
presentation/golf date with his new bosses. He was all excited about the
opportunity to shine and get to socialize with the bigwigs. The second thing
was our sink—it was plugged up.  
  
John, without consulting me, had summoned, of all people, Sergei into my inner
sanctum.  
  
"Sergei fix," he said. He eyed me, and then got under the sink. He fiddled and
took the trap out, draining the gunk that had been collecting there for who
knows how many years. It had an evil smell. Sergei collected it in a basin.  
  
John had been avidly watching, probably trying to learn how to do a simple
repair.  
  
Sergei reattached the trap and started to shimmy out from under the sink. John
looked at his watch and exclaimed: "Hell! I'm going to be late!"  
  
He turned, and when he did, knocked the basin full of waste off the counter.
It dumped its entire contents onto Sergei. He was covered in foul-smelling
black grease, hair, string, and garbage.  
  
"Oh my God! Mr. Zankov! I'm so sorry. It was a stupid accident!"  
  
"Sergei!" I said before I could catch myself. I felt bad for the old man,
sitting there covered in refuse.  
  
Sergei eyed me. "Sergei shower broken."  
  
"Use ours!" John said, happy to try to redeem himself a little by offering.  
  
"No. Sergei be bother."  
  
"Mr. Zankov, please," John said. "Kate, get that new terrycloth robe and let
Mr. Zankov use it to get to his apartment after his shower.  
  
"Okay, Sergei take shower." He pretended to have trouble getting up and John
helped him. He headed for the shower and closed the door behind him.  
  
John laughed and whispered to me, "I'm surprised he even WANTED a shower, the
hairy, stinking old animal!" He laughed again and looked at me as if I would
join in. I didn't.  
  
"God! I have to go!" John grabbed his clubs and slammed the door behind him,
leaving me with the sound of the shower running.  
  
I hurried to the bedroom and hunted up the terrycloth robe. I opened the
bathroom door a crack and snuck my arm around enough to hang it on the back of
the door.  
  
I sat impatiently in my bedroom with the door shut. I planned to stay there
until he had gone. About ten minutes went by before the water stopped.  
  
After another few minutes, I heard Sergei's muffled voice. I did or said
nothing. Then, I heard it again. Then again.  
  
I opened my door and could hear more clearly. Just one word: "Towel!"  
  
I said, "What?"  
  
"Sergei needs fresh towel!"  
  
I ran to the linen closet and picked up a blue towel. I opened the bathroom
door a crack and stuck the towel in.  
  
"Give Sergei," his voice commanded.  
  
I gave a little toss and it landed on the tile floor somewhere I didn't see.  
  
"Hand to Sergei."  
  
"No. You can pick it up yourself."  
  
"Hand to Sergei."  
  
"No. Put on the robe and go home." I shut the door. And leaned against it,
relieved.  
  
"Hand to Sergei. You disrespect Sergei. You disrespect like puny John. I see
his look, his smiles when he thinks Sergei don't see. Disrespect. You too Kate
disrespect?"  
  
"No! You know I don't!" It was important to me that he knew that.  
  
"Towel," he said. Then again, that one word: "Towel."  
  
I opened the door and focused my attention on where the towel had landed. I
spotted it, scooped it up, and extended my hand to where my peripheral vision
showed Sergei to be.  
  
He caught my wrist and pulled. I gasped, then looked at him for the first
time.  
  
He stood with a great white bath towel tied around his waist. Contrasting the
white was the dark skin of his torso made all the darker by the matte of wet
and tangled body hair completely covering his torso. My breathing came in
quick, shallow inhalations and exhalations.  
  
"Dry Sergei," he commanded while pressing my hand and the towel against his
hairy pectorals. He made drying motions for a bout ten seconds and then let
go. My hand continued until his chest was dried. My eyes were cast downward.  
  
He turned. "Dry Sergei's back."  
  
This was the first prolonged and unobstructed view I had gotten of the old
Russian's back. He had even more hair here. So much so that where it met at
his spine formed an almost black column of hair.  
  
I wiped as I had been instructed.  
  
Sergei's hand went to his waist and flicked off the towel. He dropped it to
the floor, exposing his butt and massive legs.  
  
"Dry Sergei's legs."  
  
"No. That's enough," I said.  
  
"Legs," he said. "Legs."  
  
I dropped to one knee and with both hands wrapped the towel around one
muscular thigh and swiped gently up and down the full length. Then I switched
to the other.  
  
Sergei turned his naked body toward me. At eye level was his great and erect
penis. He roughly grabbed the towel from my hands and threw it against the
wall—hard. I inhaled audibly with surprise.  
  
I was in shock. Paralyzed. Kneeling there on one knee.  
  
He took my right wrist and guided my hand. Guided it to that throbbing shaft
of his.  
  
"Please. No. I can't. Please, I'm married."  
  
"Choice," he said, and let my hand go. It slowly encircled his penis.  
  
My eyes now focused on the end of the weapon pointed at me. I was both
petrified and mesmerized. With each stroke of my fingers, an ooze flowed out
of the dark opening.  
  
Sergei stepped closer. I didn't retreat. Now the head of his penis was an inch
from my mouth. I looked up into his eyes and silently mouthed the word "No."  
  
"Choice," he said while closing the gap between us.  
  
His cock brushed my lips, and I opened my mouth to accept the old man.  
  
He flooded my taste buds with his heady flavors. "Mmmm," I murmured deep in my
throat. He pushed gently and I opened my mouth wider.  
  
For about thirty seconds I stuffed inch after inch, stretching my jaw as wide
as I could to accept his thickness. Then he pulled out and reached down.  
  
He grabbed the collar of my top in both hands and ripped it apart like it was
tissue paper. I cried out aloud in surprise. Then, without unhooking it, he
pulled my bra up and over my head and through my arms.  
  
My breasts sprung loose, and my nipples hardened.  
  
"We can't," I breathed. I still clung to the faint echo of my wedding vows.  
  
He pushed me back onto my butt and took the waistband of my sweatpants in one
hand and dragged them down. Down, down they came, turning inside out as he
stripped them off me in one motion. My panties followed in a similar rough
skinning.  
  
He reached for me, caught me under the armpits and hoisted me high to arms'
length over his head—and let go.  
  
I fell and cried out, but he caught me in his embrace and hugged my waist
close to his chest so that my face was a foot above his. My legs automatically
wrapped around him in the same way a child does to support herself when picked
up.  
  
Here we were, both naked—the old man and the bride.  
  
"Please, Sergei. No. I can't."  
  
"Say 'fuck me.'"  
  
"I can't."  
  
"Say 'Sergei fuck me.'"  
  
"No ..."  
  
"Say 'Sergei, give me what puny John is not able to give ... make me cum. Make
body alive. Say fuck me!'"  
  
I said two words into his ear: "Fuck me!" then rested my head on his shoulder.  
  
I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror as he walked out of the bathroom with
me in his arms. My ultra white skin framed by his dark animal coat. He had one
arm around my back. The other hand cupped my naked ass and supported me.  
  
As we crossed into the bedroom, I thought to myself "I'm finally getting
carried across the threshold."  
  
Sergei placed me on the bed and I lay crossways on it. I playfully lifted my
legs and rubbed the soles of my feet against his hairy chest.  
  
He didn't ask what shoes I had been wearing or if I had recently washed
them—he took each foot and kissed it. Then he licked the soles. I groaned. He
sucked each toe and spread them so his tongue could reach every crevice.  
  
He went to his knees before me and kissed his way up my thighs.  
  
"Kate so beautiful," he said before the lower part of his face disappeared in
my pubic hair.  
  
"OH GOD!" I said when he found my clitoris. He sucked and gnawed and licked
and worked with varying pressures and intensities until my body could no
longer contain the pressure:  
  
"YES! YES!" I screamed as it all crashed in one big orgasmic wave over me. I
was catatonic. The black magic spell of sexual frustration that had been cast
by John ineptness had broken.  
  
Sergei shifted my lifeless body and climbed onto the bed. He lay flat on his
back, with that gorgeous cock standing high. I didn't have to be instructed. I
summoned all my strength to crawl up and straddle his hips.  
  
"Oh my God ... oh my God," I repeated. My hand went behind me and I painted my
pussy opening with his sticky precum. Then I fitted the head to the entrance
of my vagina and I eased onto it.  
  
"Aaaahhh!" I breathed out in a long groan. I raised up and then down. Four
times. Until I had the base of Sergei's huge cock surrounded by my red pubic
hair.  
  
That's when Sergei took over. He grasped my hips and thrust upwards.  
  
"Sergei!" I said.  
  
"Kate's body knows real man!"  
  
"Yes! Yes! Finally ... finally!"  
  
It was like I had never felt before. Even better than the first time. By a
lot. Now I was participating consciously, and willingly. I ground and rode
while he thrust. I made obscene noises that I didn't recognize as my own
voice.  
  
Then, unexpectedly, Sergei hugged me down to him and turned us over in one
smooth move. We were now in the missionary position.  
  
And now he went seriously to work. For five minutes he deliciously moved in
and out of my ravenous pussy. I craved and desired and lusted after his
pleasure-giving cock. I possessed it with all my power.  
  
He increased his speed and I kept up with his motions. We were synchronized in
body, mind, and soul.  
  
"Kate, Kate ... my beautiful Kate," he whispered. Then he let out that mighty
roar. "AAAHHGGH!" Gush after gush of hot cum filled me. More even than the
first time.  
  
I heard a slight noise near the bedroom entrance. My eyes flew open. There
stood John with his mouth wide open. I saw his briefcase just inside the door
and knew immediately he must have forgotten it and rushed home to retrieve it.
His eyes looked in horror on what was before him:  
  
His new wife was being viciously fucked by the hairy old man that he had
degraded and insulted. A huge thick cock was pumping her gaping pussy full of
baby-making scum!  
  
My legs were spread as wide as I could get them for maximum penetration and my
smelly toes were pointed toward John. With my eyes fixed on his, my body
convulsed and granted his wish while fulfilling the promise I had made him the
night before on this very bed. I screamed:  
  
"JOHN! I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING!"




End file.

