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get off her, because I was getting heavy. That snapped it. I reared back and laid my hands on her shoulders and then leaned forward, pinning her with my full weight. She tried to struggle but I had her at three points, and now brought my cock into equal pressure with my hands. “I don’t feel like fucking anymore,” she said. “That’s too bad,” I told her.
    And of course, she yielded, as a woman always does when a stiff cock starts churning inside her cunt. They may protest the circumstances, or the person, but if a man really has it hard and is really tuned in to what is happening, he can fuck any woman for hours. Put it in her and she’ll moo with contentment. And so it happened. But I wasn’t counting on the physiological trap, and this time there was no creamy secretion, only a thin spiteful dribble. And there was no heat, only a clammy blandness of temperature. And nothing I did helped. I sucked her breasts again and tried kissing her, and grabbed her ass to bring her cunt close up to my crotch. And she went with it all, seemingly digging it all, but not yielding up any of her juices. It was impossible to tell whether she was holding back with her mind, or whether the flow was beyond her control and wouldn’t come whether she wanted it or not. I was past figuring it out and past caring, and just slid my cock in and out of her, concentrating on my own sensations, using her like a hand to jerk off in, falling into the most sluttish fantasies to compensate for the thin reality. “She’s just a pig,” went the refrain in my mind. “Anyone can have her. She’s a frigid bitchy middle-aged-middle-class whore who doesn’t have enough sense to know what she is. She probably fucks for anyone who’ll open his zipper. She’s probably gone down on half the school, sucking off students ten years younger than she is in telephone booths at the back of the cafeteria. How many men has she dragged up here with the same plea: ‘make me come’?” And as the fantasy convoluted, I became excited. I looked down at her, at the woman’s body lying underneath me. The kid had rolled off and was now sleeping comfortably on the far edge of the bed.
    Without planning it, I pulled out of her fast. She opened her eyes in surprise and dismay. I grabbed her thighs and pushed her to the side. She got the idea and rolled over. She lay on her belly, her ass forming a gorgeous mound for my eyes, her thick dancer’s thighs looking very vulnerable, and between them the cunt hair peeking out. I pulled her ass up to bring her to her knees. And then leaned forward to shove her shoulders down, so that her ass stuck up and exposed the pink slit of her pussy more fully. I knelt between her legs and pried the cheeks apart. Her clenched asshole warned me away from it, and the tension in her body almost made me forget the entire thing. But this was the last one, I thought. I’d never be making it again with this bitch, so I might as well get off as good a fuck as I could.
    I leaned forward and felt that delicious moment when the head of my cock slides past the feathery touch of the outer cunt lips, meets the massaging pressure of the inner lips, and then sloshes happily and warmly into the very cunt center, that wrinkled bud that is so tightly closed and stretches so tautly to embrace the entire shaft of the cock, from the sensitive head to the broad thick base. I heard her sigh. I moved in very slowly, angling up slightly, and aiming right at the cervix. But I was only three-quarters in when she tightened up. “You’re hurting me again,” she hissed. For an instant I wanted to just hit her as hard as I could, to punch her and knee her in the belly and kick her pussy and beat her ass and slap her face until she just, once and for all, stopped the whining, the inability to withstand just a little pain in order to find a greater pleasure. It was not the fact that she announced I was hurting her that bothered me, but the way she presented it, as