W-H-O-R-E

The sun was warm, but not uncomfortable, the water cool against my skin. His wife had gone into the house to get him a beer and we were left outside in the pool alone.  I swam up to him and slipped my body close to his, wrapped my legs around his waist, sliding my naked torso against his, loving the feel of the water and our skin and the sun and the slight buzz I had from the margaritas. Loving the feel of knowing he wanted me, the memory of seeing his eyes watching me all afternoon, of his hand on my neck and his growl in my ear: “You’re going to be a good slut for me, aren’t you?”

‘Slut’ had turned to ‘whore’ by late afternoon, when he’d beaten me in our version of a game of  H-O-R-S-E, and now he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, bit my neck and used the word on me: “You’re such a fucking whore, aren’t you?”

I shivered in spite of the heat and nodded. He responded by shoving me back against the side of the pool and putting a hand around my throat. “Spread your legs, whore,” he growled.

I did, and he pushed aside the scrap of bikini material between my legs roughly. “I’m going to hurt you tonight, little girl,” he said, “and then I’m going to fuck you.”

The side of the pool scraped my shoulder blades as he shoved one finger into my pussy, and then another into my tight, unprepared asshole. I gasped and arched my back at the unexpected intrusion. He held me that way, pinned against the side of the pool, his other hand at my throat.  His mouth trailed down the side of my neck, biting, licking, before coming back up to my ear. “You’re going to be good tonight, aren’t you, little slut?  Going to make me and W proud?”

I closed my eyes and nodded wordlessly, then gasped suddenly as he shoved his fingers harder into me, as he pinched my tender girlparts between his fingers. “What do you say when I ask you a question, little girl?”

My eyes popped open and I stared at him, confused for a moment.  Then, feeling heat and pleasure suffusing me, I whispered, “Yes Sir, I will be.”  He grinned wolfishly at me and began working his fingers in and out of my ass and my cunt, his hand tightening around my throat as he did so.  I writhed against his hand, moaned into his mouth when he covered mine with his own.

“You have to ask for it tonight, slut.”  I knew exactly what he was referring to – all the ways we had played when we played before, all the little rituals were coming back to me.

“Yes…yes Sir,” I panted. Thrust my pelvis against him, ground against his hand. Felt the orgasm building.

“That’s right,” he said, “fuck my hand like the whore you are…fucking little whore…”

And that’s all it took, the memories of before, the feelings it all invoked in me…”Please! Please may I come…?” Panting, pushing, arching, reaching…

“Yes,” he whispered in my ear, even as the first wave crashed over me.

He pulled me to him when it was over, held me weightless in the water.  “Good girl,” he said. I felt him reach up, then felt the cool beer bottle against my bare back.

“It’s good to have her back, isn’t it?” he said over my head to his wife, who stood above us on the side of the pool.

She brushed a hand across the back of my head. “Sure is,” she said.

And it was.

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