Untitled Love
I finished cleaning the house. I vacuumed the carpet and fixed the cushions on the couch. I did the laundry and folded the clothes and put them back in the dresser. I'd just taken the chicken out of the oven and set the table when I heard his car pull up. I heard his key click the lock open and I poured us a couple glasses of wine.
"Something smells good," I heard him say.
He dropped his suitcase on the couch and walked into the kitchen where I was. He put his arms around me, pushed my hair back and kissed my neck and kissed my cheek, then his voice suddenly got dark and his arms tightened around me.
"What have you been up to?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said.
"You been screwing the guy downstairs?" he asked me.
"No," I said.
He glared at me, like I was lying to him. The fur on his neck seemed to stand up and his eyes grew dark and empty. He bared his fangs at me.
"You're screwing him aren't you?" he said.
He gave me another hard squeeze. I clenched my teeth.
"No, I'm not," I said.
He loosened his grip and I quickly backed away, but he followed.
"You're screwing the guy downstairs," he said.
I moved behind the table, though it wouldn't do much good, then I quickly backed away again just as he put his paws under the table. As though it were a toy, he flipped it over. It landed hard on the ground with a loud crash. Glasses and plates were shattered, utensils clanged on the ground and food was thrown everywhere.
I rushed into the living room. Damn it! Where were my keys? I couldn't find them anywhere. Then he was on me. He bent me backwards over the couch and put his paw to my throat.
"I can smell him on you," he said.
"I haven't been screwing him," I choked.
His grip on neck tightened. He turned me over on my back.
"I only went downstairs to thank him," I said quickly.
"Thank him? For what?" he demanded.
"To thank him for helping me carry the groceries upstairs, there were so many!" I said.
"And then you fucked him?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"Liar!" he hissed.
I kicked him and he let me go.
"Bitch," he hissed, as he held his groin.
I rushed to the bedroom and closed the door and locked it.
Keys! Keys! Keys! Where were my keys?
I searched the drawers and looked under and inside clothes. I pulled drawers out and threw clothes into the air and turned over furniture. I nearly pulled the mattress off the bed and I dumped my purse out on the floor. My keys were nowhere.
I heard his voice again.
"Open this door," he growled.
I didn't answer. I had to find my keys.
"I'm not playing with you. I'm going to count to three. One..." he said.
I didn't answer.
"Two..."
I upset the nightstand. The lamp fell to the floor.
"Three..."
I crouched on the floor to check under the bed.
CRASH! He'd kicked open the door and pounced on me, he yanked me up by the collar of my shirt and pushed me up against the wall.
"Admit it," he whispered in my ear.
I shook my head.
"No," I said.
The back of my head hit the wall.
"Admit it," he said.
"No," I said.
He slammed my head against the wall again, and again, and again. I started to feel dizzy, my eyelids felt heavy. He laid me on the bed and straddled my waist. I looked up at him, my vision was slightly blurred.
He reached into his pocket and dangled something in my face. I heard the soft sound of jingling and squinted a little. My keys!
"Looking for these?" he asked.
I was too dazed to lift my head.
"Say it," he said.
Then I realized it. He wanted me to say "yes."
"Say it," he repeated.
"Yes," I said softly.
"Yes what?" he asked.
He bent forward.
"I'm screwing the guy downstairs," I said.
His paw trailed down my body and up my thigh, his fingers pushed my panties back and I tensed as his fingertips touched my nether lips.
"Say it again," he said, as he plunged his fingers into me.
"I'm screwing the guy downstairs," I said.
"What?" he asked.
He spread and wiggled his fingers in me and thrust them in and pulled them out of me.
"I'm screwing the guy downstairs," I said.
"Now was that so hard?" he asked me.
He withdrew his fingers from me and licked his paw.
He tossed my keys aside and slid his paws up and unbuttoned my shirt, he traced his fingertips over the outline of my bra and leaned forward to kiss the tops of my breasts.
"You slut," he chucked, and dipped his tongue between my breasts.
He hooked his finger into my bra and pulled it down, my breasts popped out and he ran his tongue over him.
"Did he touch you like this?" he asked me, as he squeezed my breasts.
He flicked his tongue over my nipples.
I shook my head quickly.
"No," I said.
He just laughed and kissed down my body and pushed my skirt up. He drew his tongue over the outline of my panties and then pulled back and ripped them off.
"You wet little slut," he said, and spread my legs.
I gripped the pillow and shut my eyes. He tickled my inner thigh with his tongue and ran the tip of his tongue over my cunt lips. Then he turned me over and forced me up on my knees. He nipped at my inner thighs and bit at my cunt lips, in between every few bites his tongue would dart out and give my clit a few hard licks, all the while I'd grip the headboard and moan. My pussy ached, slick and dripping, but he wouldn't allow me to cum. Then I felt the bed move and heard him unbuckling his belt.
He grasped my hips and rubbed the head of his cock up my slit and forced his cock into my pussy. I bit my lip to keep from crying out as he stretched me. He just laughed and smacked my ass, I whimpered, remembering all the times he'd used his belt and paws on me, hitting and whipping me, thinking of the many welts and bruises he'd given me. He laughed at my discomfort, and pulled his cock from my cunt and pressed it to my tailhole.
"Sluts get fucked in the ass, not in their pussies," he said, and plunged his cock into my ass.
I gripped the headboard tighter, he curled his fingers in my hair and yanked my head back as he rode me. It was so embarrassing! His hips smacked against my ass, the slaps mixing with his moans and my whimpers. Tears squeezed from my eyes, both from him smacking my sore bruised ass and from him pulling my hair.
"Say it you slut," he groaned as he fucked me.
"I'm screwing the guy downstairs," I whimpered.
Then he let go of my hair and his paw went to my throat again, and his free paw went to my tail. He petted my tail at first, then his paw closed around it and he yanked my tail up, and I cried out. As he yanked my tail, my ass grew tight around his cock and he began to fuck me harder. His paw tightened around my neck.
"Please!" I choked.
But he only tightened his grip. His moans grew louder, and he pushed his cock deeper into me.
"Ah fuck!" he grunted.
His cock twitched and he filled my ass with his hot cum. He let go of my throat and I rested against the headboard, and he rested against me.
I wiggled out from under him and laid down on the bed, h slid down beside me. He sat up and smiled at me and brushed my tousled hair out of my face.
I looked up at him. Then I slid out of bed. I retrieved my robe from the bathroom and walked out into the hall. I rearranged some of the couch cushions and then walked into the kitchen. It was awful. It looked like a tornado had passed through. There were broken dishes and broken glass all over the floor. The table was cracked in the center. Food adorned the floor, cabinets and wall, and there were utensils strewn about the floor.
I crossed the floor, being careful not to step on any broken glass. I opened the cabinet and retrieved a glass and moved to the sink to fill the glass. I took down the glass in one gulp, then sighed and surveyed the room. It would take forever to clean up. As I filled the glass again, he put his arms around me. He kissed my cheek and put his head on my shoulder.
"Did he fuck you like that?" he asked me.
I smiled a nervous smile.
"No," I said.