Recovery

stories-201308

John Hovell lay on his back in the big bed with his stiff cock standing straight up and embedded in the pussy of one Helena Manson as she rose and lowered herself on to it with extreme vigor. It’d been a while since he’d felt the warm love channel of a woman on his tool and he was less than totally enamored.

Meanwhile, Helena, above him, rode John’s tool with more vigor than he’d thought possible as her excitement mounted steadily. She needed this. She needed to feel a man in her and to ride him with every fiber of her being. She needed revenge! There was no love, not even any affection for the man she was riding. He was only the instrument of her revenge and his feelings were of no real matter to her.

John, lying there, receiving the ministrations that the woman who was impaling herself on his shaft delivered, felt nothing, the friction on his cock delivered no more than a rather pleasant sensation and certainly no passion or lust or excitement. His mind was far away at the moment to better times before his wife had decided she needed to find herself and divorced him.

Then, as he felt the woman… what was her name again? He couldn’t remember and did not care that he didn’t; drove herself with a renewed frenzy of passion his mind was returned to the present. He was aware of the bed creaking and straining beneath him and of the animal grunts from the woman who rode him with such determination.

Perhaps the woman deserved better, John thought. Perhaps he should be putting more of himself into their act. Perhaps their whole relationship should never have happened, he thought. A year ago, this wouldn’t be happening. He realized that it would have been him riding her with all the zest that she now rode him. He had realized that the end of his marriage and the divorce had zapped him of that energy and even the will to recoup it. Then, his mind slipped back to happier times before the divorce when his wife had been his alone. His wife had been a good lover, and she hadn’t been the self-centered slut that she had turned into.

Again, John’s attention was diverted back to the present as the exhausted woman fell on to his stomach and lay resting as she made small movements to massage her clit on his hairy mound. Sensing the need to complete their act, he rolled her on to her back and reentered her with his rapidly softening cock to get action started to bring that uninspired tool up to full erection.

Now it was John’s time to assume the power and responsibility for their coitus. He began the coital motion slowly at first with easy strokes and slowly increased the speed and intensity of his efforts as the woman beneath him responded weakly. As the depth and intensity of his thrusts increased, the woman could no longer respond she was simply too fatigued. He pressed her harder and felt the chafing of his cock from all the friction in the condom, he’d be sore in the morning. Then, his interest turned to simply completing their act. Surely he could cum even under these conditions, but, he couldn’t.

When they had met earlier in the hotel bar, a single drink and five minutes of small talk had found her ready, willing and able for a quick fuck though she’d seemed rather distracted and maybe a little disturbed. John had gone to the bar to drink, something to drown his sorrows but with so willing a woman coming on to him, he was up for a quick fuck. He had rented a room and with little excitement or emotion they had gone there, undressed and Helena had insisted on being on top.

What the hell, he thought; if that’s what she wants it might be fun. As he had lay on the bed while she put on the condom and mounted him, it should have been over in five minutes. Under better circumstances, it would have been. Now, an hour later, they had still not completed the act. Gradually, John felt himself losing his erection. Fatigue had taken its toll in this passionless relationship. As Helena felt him gradually losing it, she reviled him for his inability to perform. “Just my luck, when I need a good fuck I get a wimp who can’t keep it up.”

As his tool softened to the point where it could no longer service her, John got up, went to the bathroom, cleaned himself and discarded the condom, hoping when he returned to the bedroom that she would be departing.

She wasn’t gone, instead she lay in the bed reviling him with even harsher criticism and with terms like, “teeny weenie” and “bum fuck”. In his depressed state and feeling the effect of his divorce; John was in no mood to take the nasty remarks of the woman who debased him. As his ire rose, so did his passions and as his passions rose, so did his cock. Then, in a surge of passion, he grabbed Helena and mounted her even as she showed no interest.

You came here to get fucked and by the powers in me you will. With that he shoved his cock into her again and drove it to the hilt against her cervix to elicit a cry of pain. Then, he began a chaotic staccato of thrusts, some deep and other short as his ass moved from side to side.

The surprised woman was soon accepting his movements with what responses she could muster and in a minute, maybe less, the woman cried out her orgasm. It wasn’t a conscious cry as that would have indicated her submission but rather that of an animal. John continued his moves and his passions soared unabated. The bitch would pay for her remarks. John continued his ministrations with renewed intensity, he would show her!

It was then that John had felt himself relenting and allowing her relief from what they’d come to the room to do. He had proven his point and the poor woman had withstood enough.

He allowed her to go to the bathroom and clean herself. Then, on her return, he went to the bathroom and did his ablutions and on returning from the bathroom, he found Helena asleep in his bed. “Awe shit!,” he thought, “She’ll be here in the morning.” Then he slept. It was before dawn when the knocking came to their hotel door and John climbed out of the bed to answer as Helena sat up to observe. Who the hell can it be at this hour, I remarked to her. She did not respond.

After putting on my trousers, I opened the door to find a very excited and irate man pushing past me for entry. “You bitch! You’ve been fucking another man!”, he screamed at Helena as she attempted to stand from the bed. “How could you do that?”

Helena responded angrily, “You were out with your little coochie again tonight and I’d had enough. I picked John up in the bar and came here where he fucked me until I couldn’t walk and it was the best sex I’d had in years!”

The man suddenly turned to me and swung a roundhouse fist at John, one which he averted and placed a knee in his groin. Then, as he doubled over in pain, John bloodied his face with his fist. He fell to the floor.

It was Helena that surprised me next. “Leave him alone you bastard! Can’t you see he’s hurt?” she cried as she attempted to place her knee in John’s groin. The knee was averted but not without leaving a bruise on his thigh and John moved close and restrained her.

Then, as she quit struggling, John released her with the admonition, “Get your husband up and get your crazy ass out of here. How’d he find us anyway?”

“Remember when you went into the bathroom before we fucked that last time, I called and left a message with the hotel and room number with my cell phone.” Then, she grew silent as her rage continued. “You hurt him!”, she cried out and John saw the same rage in her eyes that he’d seen earlier.”

Not as much as I’m going to if you don t get out!” John replied as she was putting on her dress and shoes. A couple of minutes later and they were gone.

As John locked and bolted the door behind them, he suddenly felt rejuvenated. His spirits were high and the depression that had been with him for months had apparently gone out the door with Helena. Perhaps it was the angry sex when he’d poured out his own disdain with his seed into her belly earlier or perhaps it was simply telling her to get out, but it was gone. John returned to the bed and slept until nearly nine o’clock.

It was late morning when John arrived at his office, refreshed and in high spirits. He looked about for something to occupy his mind and found the office functioning perfectly. As he pondered, Jamie Becker came into view at her desk. His spirits soared again.

Jamie was a widow, left with three sons, when her husband was killed in Iraq. She was the head of their billing and receiving department and had been hit on by most every male in the office. She was quite beautiful and John made straight for her.

“Jamie, Could I take you to dinner and a movie tonight?” John confidently asked.

The look he received was noncommittal as she replied, “No thanks.”

“I mean you and your kids and to a Disney movie.” He said smiling.

She looked at him again and he saw interest in her eyes. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Well, I thought it would be fun.”

“You wouldn’t be expecting to take me to bed later or anything?” she said suspiciously.

“My plan is to get to know you better first.” John continued smiling.

“You’re sure?” She said with hesitation.

“Absolutely sure, of course, I might try to cop a feel covertly of course.” He said laughing.

“Well aren’t you a surprise today. Yes, John, yes I will go out with you. You can pick us up at 6:00 this Friday.” And with that she smiled and returned to work leaving John beaming.