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Boxing Day - Part II Author's Note: This story may not be duplicated or re-posted on another website or in any medium without the written consent of the author.
Pit viper. Pit bull. A creature of the pit, I was. "Fucking cunt," he breathed angrily into my mouth, his hands reaching up to twist my nipples violently. I whimpered, but did not let go. Thus began the last battle in the war that simmered beneath our shallow surfaces. I sank my fangs in deeper, and he contorted my rock-hard nipples with merciless hands. It was an unfair match, and after only a few moments, I released his lip with a tormented yowl. His hands immediately grasped my sport bra and yanked it down under my full tits, baring their red, pulsating, nipples to the cold of the room. Propelling me forward against the wall, I heard him give a grunt from behind me. Then a click which I only had a moment to identify as his pocket knife. Before I could utter a protest, he'd slipped the point of the blade through the ass of my capris and knickers. He wiggled a finger into that tiny slit and ripped them open the rest of the way with his bare hands. "You have a delicious ass, Jinny," he growled in almost feral loathing behind me. "You've always had a delicious ass." One strong forearm pressed across my back, smashing me hard to the wall. My sore breasts mashed into the cold, exposed brick while his free hand began to blister my ass with one brutal slap after another. "Sodding, bloody, whore," he snarled into my ear. "Where in fuck's sake do you come up swinging and biting at me?" I took each blow with a guttural rumble of acceptance, refusing to scream, even though my body jerked under the force of each hit. "Tell me you want to get fucked up your delicious ass, slut," he ordered harshly. "Tell me you want to spread your whore legs and have my cock stuffed tight up your virgin bum." I wouldn't answer him, and as my ass and his hand started to grow numb, he realized I wasn't going to bend in that direction. Wrenching my hair, he maneuvered me around. Without warning, I swung both fists, connecting first with an uppercut to his chin and then boxing his left ear. He responded with a snarl of utter fury and slammed his body forward, crushing me between his tall, muscled form and the unforgiving brick wall. I did scream then, struggling to keep the breath from being knocked from my lungs. "Bloody fucking radge." He sneered, grasping me by the wrists. My beloved vintage boxer's gloves turned traitor on me. Without access to my fingers, I couldn't claw his face off as I ached to. And he managed rather effortlessly to bind both my wrists in one of his large hands. Shoving one of his legs between mine, he kicked my feet apart, until by thighs were spread wide. Had he not held me up by the arms, I'd have slipped helplessly into a painful straddle. "Tell me what a rutting whore you are," he commanded with an arrogant leer. I glared defiantly into his eyes for a few seconds, and then the flat of his hand slammed down. This time he wasn't walloping my fleshy rear; this time the hard paddle of his palm stung flatly against my partially exposed clit. I did scream them, my whole body bucking and recoiling as he punished my pussy. "Rat-shagging-bloody-bastard!" I screamed into his face. His hand slammed down again. And then once more. I began to use expletives I hadn't even known were in my vocabulary. His pitiless hand lifted back once more. "I'm a rutting whore." I breathed through clenched teeth. His smirk was nearly unbearable. "A dirty, cock-loving whore," he prompted with amused satisfaction. "A dirty cock-loving whore," I repeated, spitting each word into his face like a voodoo curse. He drew his fingers threateningly over my stomach. "Make a few up. Be creative. Don't make me hurt you to inspire you." I tried in vain to cause his body to spontaneously combust with just the power of my burning eyes. When that didn't work, I gritted my teeth and began slowly. "I'm a filthy, fuck-loving little slut." "Whose slut are you?" He squeezed my wrists for emphasis. I began to calculate the odds of parole if I bathed in his blood after I killed him. "Your slut, Guy. Your cock-hungry, wet-pussied guttersnipe." "Good," he praised condescendingly. "Tell me you want it up your tight cunnie. Beg for it up your virgin bum." Our eyes locked in communal wrath. Never before had I realized the itch to murder and the ache to fuck could be so utterly entwined. "Shove that cock of yours deep into my cunt and stab me with it," I growled hotly. "Poke my pussy raw, and then when you're done ram that slab of meat up my ass and fuck me until I can't feel." It was going to backfire on him. Yes, he was getting what he wanted to hear, but he was getting one unmanageable beast of a hard-on as well. Control slipped from his face. He let go of me to fumble with the fly of his jeans and I seized on the opportunity to completely clock him, boxing both his ears at the same time. He screamed with an almost feline howl of pain and fell swiftly to his knees, his exposed, fat, swollen cock clutched and protected by both his hands. With bare feet, I delivered a sharp kick to his shoulder. My heel cracked against his collarbone. He dropped flat on his back, writhing. His moans of agony rang in my blood-thirsty ears like Mozart arias. I dropped onto him, straddling his hips and delivering blow after blow to his face…his chest…his ribs. There wasn't enough strength left in my body to do any real harm. But it was enough to get him good and stunned. I simply delivered weakened punches, jabs, and shots, the whole time, my ass wagging back and forth over his pulsating erection. He was somewhere between consciousness and punch-drunk stupor when I finally leaned forward over him, my damp, dog-tired body too angry to give up unsatisfied. "Reach down there," I ordered him with a gravel-coated throaty voice. "Reach down there and shove that cock inside me." My gloved, ineffectual hands took a staunch position on his chest as I felt him blindly rub the tip of his slick steel against my over-sensitive clit. My whole body stiffened in a morbid, mingling rush of expectation and revulsion. When finally that rigid flash of hardened flesh struck within me, I threw my head back and bayed like a wolf in triumph. Pounding my hips down, I jack-hammered his stocky length into my rapacious puss. My tits bounced up and down in rhythm. My body jerked in greedy pleasure. I took it from him while my gloves slipped and slid over his clammy chest. I felt him starting to twitch and distend inside me, and I'd be damned if my domination of his body was going to have him cum before I. Pressing one glove between my thighs, I rubbed the hardened sheepskin glove to my tender red clitty. ZAP Holy orgasm, Batman!
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