On March 25th, my brother, Adam, passed away. He was thirty-one. He had a seizure and choked to death on his vomit. No one was with him. His roommates found his body the next morning.

My brother and I weren't close. Our family dynamics could fill a book. He was an asshole who loved to push people's buttons, especially if they were upset. He had twin children with his wife who divorced him six months into the marriage. He actually finished college which is something I never did. He didn't like to read but he loved Star Trek. He had hundreds of problems but rarely did any sort of work to overcome them. He preferred to be the most pitied person in the room but would pick on others in a heartbeat. I never understood him.

He tried to commit suicide a few years ago. I think I did most of my mourning then. The examining doctor at his death didn't like how much of his seizure medication was in his body so they did an autposy. We'll know if he tried to kill himself this time in a few weeks. In the meantime, we are in a quantum state of him dying purely by chance or by suicide.

The funeral is tomorrow. My mom didn't want to wait for me to make it to North Carolina to have it. She's a mess and already in the process of canonizing him. I am going to miss my brother's funeral and I honestly don't know I feel about that. The closing date for my house is April 3rd and there is so much left to do.  The fact that my mom wants to have the funeral before I can get there feels like a rejection of me but I know logically that she just wants to get it over with as soon as possible.

"I didn't think you would want to come," my mom said. Proving once again, my family doesn't know me at all.
 
It might be for the best. Adam always had the sympathy of the family. His seizures made life hard. His step-father who idolized him and spoiled him did not prepare Adam for the real world. When the family gathers, their favorite topic is how awful Adam's life is. My Grandmother likes to say that Adam and my step-father's cruelty to me and my sister made us tougher and therefore, we benefited from it but Adam being spoiled meant he would have a rougher life and therefore, he deserves our sympathy. I am not sure I can go through a funeral with that theme. 

Mostly I am in shock. I'm the oldest sibling. I have watched Adam his entire life. He was a spoiled child, the favorite of my step-father. I have watched my brother when he was six, blackmail my mother with threats of telling my step-father whatever minor crime she had done in his eyes. I have watched my brother delight in seeing me punished as a teenager. I have watched my brother mock the shit out of my sister for her bad relationships without ever trying to help her. I have watched him get married to an awful woman who literally divorced him days after she got pregnant. I have watched him bend over backwards trying to provide for his twin children. I have watched him feel sorry for himself but almost never do anything to help himself. I have watched him his entire life and I almost never related to him.

This Friday I am driving up to see my mom and sister. I want to be there for them. I want to be a better brother and son than Adam ever was.

Play With This: Laid Lines

Mystics want you to believe that “ley lines” are an invisible network of energy that crosses the planet and intersects at historical places of mystery like Stonehenge and the Great Pyramids. The theory is that the ley lines are the spiritual lifeblood of the planet or perhaps magical roads of psychic energy.

The truth is much more explicit and therefore suppressed by our sexually inhibited society. The ley lines should be more accurately described as “Laid Lines”. They are the remnants of sexual energy that comes from a merging of two sexual energy fields. In other words, they are the paths of fucking.

Now when two or more people fuck, they create a remnant field of sexual energy. Sexual energy attracts other sexual energy so the field will stretch towards the nearest other field. These stretched fields create lines of energy that serve as a map for sexual encounters.

When you become attuned to Laid Lines (See chapter entitled, Divination Through Masturbation) you start to notice interesting patterns. Cities are filled with laid lines. They criss-cross in a web that center around locations where the fucking has been the most common. Hotels, stadiums, and high schools usually have so much fucking through their history that the sexual energy pools with such mass that the rest of the laid lines will bend towards them.

Sometimes however the web will center on something that doesn’t suggest itself as a place where a lot of people fuck. Atlanta, Georgia for example centers on an ancient restaurant of hot dogs and fried pies. Tawnee, Indiana centers on a curious park that is only five square feet in area. How can such unusual places become the nexus points of laid lines when it obvious that people are doing most of their fucking elsewhere?

It is quite simple. These unusual places are where Gods and Goddesses fuck.


Samuel Noone
“The Pussy of Life”

Play With This is a series of articles designed to give you things to play around with in your writing.  Feel free to borrow, modify, or completely change for your own stories.  

Fiction: Tommy Goodmouth, Ace Mayor

Mayor Tommy Goodmouth opened his eyes as he heard the POP-POP_POP of impacts on the bulletproof glass of the car window. He turned in his seat to see a white van close its doors and fly down the highway. The back of the van was decorated with crosses.

“Who the fuck are they?” he said.

Lindsey Seung lifted her head from Goodmouth’s lap. His hard cock fell out of her mouth. She stroked it while she looked out the window. Her pretty brown eyes focused behind her thick glasses.

“That is the Christian group, Right to Meddle,” she said. “They announced that you might suffer a horrible fate for legalizing prostitution in Poundtown and turning the city into a modern day Sodom.”

“I didn’t legalize it, Ms. Seung.” Tommy said. “I just noticed that that prostitution has never been repealed from our boomtown days. It’s not my fault that I took advantage of a law that already existed. Plus, turning the city into a modern day Sodom is a bit of an over statement.”

“I don’t see how you can argue that it is not your fault about the law when you ran on a campaign to bring legalized prostitution back to the city,” Ms. Seung said.

“Okay, maybe you’re right but what about turning Poundtown into a modern day Sodom? That’s a bit much.”

Ms. Seung frowned and continued to stroke the Mayor’s cock. “I can see their point. You have already authorized more comprehensive sex education for teenagers and adults. You’re in the process of bringing the World Burlesque Competition to the city. You’ve also proposed tax incentives for porn companies to film here. Also, just last night, you added a wet t-shirt contest to the Ms. Poundtown pageant.”

Tommy’s perpetual smile slipped a fraction of an inch. “Ms. Seung, who’s the legally elected Mayor in this car?”

“You are sir,” Ms. Seung said. She stroked his cock a little faster.

“And who’s the political science major who graduated only one month ago from Eros University and is technically something of a newbie when it comes to politics?”

“I am, sir,” Ms. Seung said.

“Right. So get back to sucking my cock. I want to have an enormous pants bulge when I step out of the limo.”

Five minutes later, the limousine pulled in front of the Sherriff’s Office. A large number of press people were already there. Each of them had received an anonymous tip that the Mayor would be visiting the Sherriff. Ms. Seung had made sure of that.

The driver stepped out and opened the door for the Mayor. Tommy stepped out with his famous smile. The sun glinted off his perfect blonde hair in a style that some say Ryan Gosling stole. Clear blue eyes took in the press and made a brief connection with each and every one of them.

A ripple of gasps went through the crowd as they got a good sight of the enormous bulge in his slacks. The fact that he wasn’t trying to hide the tent pole made it all the more difficult to ignore.

“Mr. Mayor!” someone yelled from the crowd. “Are you concerned about the multiple attempts on your life?”

“Of course not, Steve,” Tommy said. He knew all the reporter’s voices by heart. “Poundtown was founded by silver miners and enterprising women with little fear. We fought off the Native Americans who were rightfully pissed with us, greedy robber barons who wanted to steal our hard work and according to some local historians, we even fought off a race of sadistic bastards who lived underground. We’re a town of fighters and as you all know, my great-great-etcetera grandmother founded the first brothel in town. I’m a long time native of Poundtown and I’m not letting any out of towners who hate freedom tell me how to live!”

The local press cheered at that rousing statement while the visiting press dutifully recorded it all.

“I would also like to point out that since we legalized and taxed prostitution, revenue for the city has sky rocketed. We have modernized the water department. We have expanded schools and hired teachers. We have added a lot of exciting and titillating programs for seniors. All of this is possible because we are merely following the laws that were put into place when this town was founded. Now organized crime, white slavers and certain cable companies don’t like that and I understand because they are in the business of making money off of people’s misery but what confuses me is when attempts are made by Christian groups, conservative think tanks and men’s right’s groups. It seems to me that the only person who could object to this is some sort of Anti-American communist terrorist who probably doesn’t get as laid as often as they need to!”

“Now if you will excuse me, I need to see Sheriff Longfoot and talk to her about some local business. When I come out, I will answer one, and only one question from the reporter who shows the most of their chest. Skin to win, everybody!”

Tommy pressed his way through the crowd. His bulging erection pointed the way like a rhino’s horn. Ms. Seung followed behind him, her high heels clacking on the concrete steps.

The deputies inside looked tired and worn out but they all smiled when Tommy walked in. He high-fived one deputy, whistled at the biceps of another and slapped the ass of a third. He did all of this without breaking stride to the Sherriff’s office. The Sheriff’s secretary jumped up and opened the door for Tommy. He gave her a thumb’s up and a wink that made her weak in the knees.

“Mr. Mayor,” Sheriff Longfoot said. She was the only one in the entire sheriff’s department not smiling.

“Hold on now,” Tommy said. “Ms. Seung, I though I was meeting with the Sheriff but all I see here is Scarlet Johansson.”

The Sheriff cracked a smile. It was true that she might have had a resemblance to the famous actress if the actress was twenty years older, had broken her nose once and was strong enough to bench press a park bench. Not many people made the connection but Tommy always did.

“Mr. Mayor, don’t even try to sweet talk me today,” Sheriff Longfoot said. “We got ourselves a real problem. Hello Ms. Seung.”

Ms. Seung nodded politely and took her place to the right of the mayor. She checked some data on her iPad. This was the Mayor’s show.

“I can tell you are having trouble by the tension in your shoulders,” Tommy said. “Why don’t you let me take a look and you can tell me all about it.”

The Mayor stepped behind her and Sherriff Longfoot looked up at Ms. Seung for help. The personal assistant gave her a sympathetic look behind her thick glasses and went back to work.

“The thing is, Mr. Mayor, the sheriff’s department is really over stretched. We need to hire more people and we need to expand our jails for the drunk tank. Also, we- Holy shit, that feels good.”

“My grandma taught me that one,” Tommy said. His fingers dug deep into the powerful shoulders of the Sheriff. “She said it was a family secret from the massage parlor days.”

“Oh God, that feels good,” Sherriff Longfoot moaned. “Anyway, I got deputies doing overtime but we just can’t keep up with ohhhhhh, that is sooo good.”

“That sounds like quite the manpower problem,” Tommy said. “But as you know, we’ve already locked in the budget for the sheriff’s department.”

His hands moved lower down and squeezed her breasts through the outside of her shirt. Sheriff Longfoot jumped in her seat but he kept squeezing. Her fists balled up instinctively for a punch but then she felt wonderful sensation ripple from her fingers. He wasn’t just groping her tits, he was massaging them with some sort of lost art handed down from grandmother whore to grandson mayor.

Sheriff Longfoot lost her train of thought. “Uh, the budget, yes. Surely we can do something about it?”

“Where is the increased crime coming from?” Ms. Seung said. The Sheriff suddenly remembered the woman was in her office. Thankfully, Ms. Seung hadn’t looked up from her iPad and a small bit of the Sherrif’s modesty was saved.

“Tourists,” the Sheriff said. “Our own citizens behave themselves but now we got people coming in from all over the state and quite a few from outside the state. They’re clogging up traffic, getting into accidents and some of them are just getting drunk and acting up like they were in Vegas.”

“Oh, you’re getting tense again,” Tommy said. “Here, turn your chair around and face me.”

He sounded more like a doctor than a mayor so Longfoot obeyed. Tommy knelt between her legs and parted them. She looked down with confusion more than anything else. She had her pants on. What was he planning to do?

Tommy leaned forward and put his head on her crotch. He was kissing her pussy through a layer of pants and underwear.

She didn’t expect it to feel fucking amazing.

“Oh fuck!” Longfoot cried. She looked at Ms. Seung in shame but the secretary was still engrossed in her iPad.

It was like a massage but instead of fingers, it was Tommy’s jaw. Pleasure radiated from his mouth. Longfoot soaked her panties in seconds. His fingers gripped her thighs in a pulsing motion. She grabbed his head and pulled him in harder against her pussy.

“What about organized crime?” Ms. Seung asked.

“Uh, we’ve been doing, oh my, real good on that front,” the Sheriff said. “Oh yes, because every brothel has to be, OH GOD YES, licensed by the county, we have managed, fuck! We have managed to keep away the usual troublemakers. Yes, yes, yes!”

The Mayor was humming and the Sheriff could feel every vibration. He was better than her vibrators at home. He was better than her motorcycle on a summer drive. He was better than firing a rifle on full automatic.

She closed her thighs tightly around the Mayor’s head. He kept humming. She pulled him tight against her soaked pants. He kept humming. She humped his face. He kept humming. She imagined what it would like with her pants off and she knew that it would be better than she could possibly imagine.

“Fuck!” Sheriff Longfoot cried. Her orgasm blasted through her body like a shotgun. She felt tension evaporating at every point. Her shoulder felt better. Her back felt better. Even her goddamn toes felt better.

Tommy pulled up from her crotch. His lips and chin were wet. His blonde hair was still perfect. He flashed another smile.

“Sheriff Longfoot, obviously we didn’t accurately predict the extent of your needs in these new economic times.”

“It’s okay,” Sheriff Longfoot said. She was feeling much better. Shit, what was a little overtime? They could manage.

“No, I’m afraid it is not,” Tommy said. He stood up. His bulge pointed at Longfoot. She resisted the urge to caress it.

“Ms. Seung, consult the budget,” Tommy said. “Isn’t it true that we have exceeded prostitution tax revenues for this month?”

“We are a million dollars over our projection,” Ms. Seung said.

“Transfer that million to the Sheriff’s department,” Tommy said. “That should help with some new hiring. We’ll consult the tourism budget to see if we can get some money for expansion to the jail cells. Building the largest burlesque stage can wait a few more months.”

“That is perfect!” Sheriff Longfoot said. “Thank you so much!”

“No, thank you, Sheriff!” Tommy said. “Remember, I am your Mayor and I am at your service.”

“Mr. Mayor, we have an appointment in an hour with the Waste Management department,” Ms. Seung said. “We should get going.”

“Duty calls, Sheriff,” Tommy said. “If you have any problems with the budget or tension, give me a call!”

Tommy strode out of the office and Ms. Seung followed behind him.

“So which reporter do you think is going to be topless when we get out there?” Tommy said.

“All of them, sir,” Ms. Seung said. “They are reporters after all.”

Tommy laughed. “I love politics.”

Fiction: Orgy of One

Explorer’s Log: I am on day twenty of my nine month voyage to the star system designated “Queen’s Deadly Beauty” by Royal Astronomers. All astronomy surveys have been finished. All maintenance checks have been completed. All systems are running optimally. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: Fuck, I am lonely.

Vaquel Di laid on her bunk in the Relaxation Pod. The brown explorer was naked. She grabbed one of her heavy breasts and squeezed. Her other hand toyed with her clitoris.

On the ceiling of the Relaxation Pod were nineteen different projections of Vaquel’ masturbating. A small projector that Vaquel rigged from ship’s communications sat off to the side. A tiny micro-camera was imbedded in the ceiling of the Relaxation Pod in order to record her face and chest.

Vaquel watched as one of her faces closed her eyes in bliss. Another face bit her bottom lip as she felt something terribly pleasurable. A third face stared back at Vaquel with eyes glazy from lust.

The explorer stroked a little faster. She slapped her breast hard, knowing it would be recorded for her pleasure later. Today she was going for a rough performance. She slapped both of her breasts. She cried out from the pain as her hand punished her full breasts.

One of Vaquel’s faces tossed her head and forth. Her short pink hair whipped from side to side. That was Day Seven, when Vaquel had over clocked her vibrator to incredible and unsafe speeds.

Below that face was a gagged face. That was Day Twelve. Vaquel had used omni-tape to seal her mouth. No sounds came from that face but Vaquel see the desire in her eyes.

A tremor ran through Vaquel. She closed her eyes and slipped her fingers into her cunt. She cried out, knowing full well the camera would capture every second of her open mouth.

She opened her eyes and the faces looked back at her. Nineteen Vaquels moaned and squirmed.

One Vaquel shook with the force of her masturbating. Her breasts bounced and her hair flew around her face. That was Day Two when Vaquel improvised a thrusting arm to hold her dildo. It was a bit painful but the expressions on her face were amazing.

Above her, another Vaquel sucked a dildo. Vaquel watched as her own cheeks caved in around the phallus. Her lipstick was smeared all over the phallus and Vaquel’s mouth watered at the sight of it.

Vaquel returned to today’s performance. She sank painted fingernails into her breast. She squeezed as hard as she could; wincing as the sharp nails dug into her sensitive flesh. The pain transformed her face. The camera watched as she was caught between pain and pleasure.

There was more to come. Vaquel pulled at both of her tits. She stretched tender flesh harder than they were every meant to be pulled. Her hands shook with the force of the pulling but she took it. Vaquel’s mouth cried out in ecstatic pain.

She released her breasts and her hands moved down to her sex. The camera didn’t see her stroking but it did see her face. It saw how pleasure wiped away the pain. It recorded the trembling of her lips. It witnessed the falling of grateful tears.

One hand kept stroking while another hand returned to her sore breasts. This time the fingers went for a dark nipple. The painted nails pinched tighter than any clamp. Vaquel’s moans turned into a scream.

Vaquel kept stroking. She also pinched her nipple harder. A moan of joy turned into a whimper of pain and back into a groan of pleasure. One hand stroked faster while the other hand twisted harder.

 Above her, a Vaquel cried out as she climaxed. Beside her, another Vaquel begged as she came closer to release. Below both of them, another Vaquel bit her pillow while she came.

Vaquel stroked faster. With nineteen faces moaning, gasping and shaking, it was easy to forget how alone she was out here in space. With nineteen lips crying out, it was easy to feel immersed in people. With nineteen pairs of eyes, it was easy to believe she was sharing her sex with others.

Vaquel climaxed. The camera caught every moment of her face. It captured the cruel twisting of her nipple. It recorded the beauty of her orgasm

Tomorrow, twenty faces will look down at her as Vaquel pleasured herself.

Dude, House Buying is Hard, Yo

I'm buying a house. It is a three bedroom, two bathroom, five anxiety attacks property. It is a split level with a kitchen as big as my current apartment. There is a garage which I am inherently supicious of and a back yard that I am sure harbors some evil trees.

We get the house on April 3rd but in the mean time, we have a shit ton of work to do.  I had no idea that buying a house involves so much work.  The bank wants paperwork. The seller needs paperwork. The realtor needs paperwork. Insurance companies, utilities and contractors need to be called. There is a period called 'Due Diligence' which means you bring in outside experts to kick and peer at your beloved house and try to find something wrong with it.  Plumbers express disbelief at the pipe system. Carpenters go mad at the sight of the support beams of the deck. Contractors weep terrified tears at the sight of the counters. It is all very much the opposite of relaxing.

The most amazing thing to me is that my writing has dried up. Paperwork, making appointments, providing therapy to my wife while having my own anxiety is exhausting.  I shit you not, I got more writing done when I had cancer.

While I am here, I would like to record for posterity my two favorite incidents while searching for a house to buy.

One of the houses was okay but the neighbor was a bit worrisome.  Every window int he neighbor's house had a very obvious camera pointing outwards. The windows had blinds pulled down and conveyed that sort of bunker state of mind. I desperately wanted to go over there and introduce myself and maybe drop some hints that I worked for the government.

Another house I went to looked like the aftermath of a mysterious horror movie. The refrigerator was empty except for two large jars of olives. A lone toothbrush lurked in the hallway. A pair of perfectly good sandals stood in the middle of a room. Another pair of perfectly good sandals were by the back door, but the sandals were not tucked away neatly. No, they were spaced apart as if the person wearing them had instantly vanished in mid walk.

Luckily, the house we ended up making an offer on was free of mystery.  Well, not entirely.  See, the backyard has five trees.  These five trees are not spread out. No, they are in a tight circle. A normal buy would guess that they are just trees but come on, I think we all recognize a Druid gate when we see one.

Fiction: The Hand That Rewards

My phone rang and the ringtone made my cock throb.  I was being summoned once more.

I opened the message and once again the words of my oath flooded the screen. My thumb scrolled the message out of habit. I heard that back in the old days, these oaths had to be renewed by voice every single time.  It was hard to believe that anyone ever got spanked with those kinds of traditions.

Finally I reached the bottom of the message. “Do you swear to act first as the Invisible Collar commands?” I clicked the accept button. 

My mission appeared.  The word, reward, appeared.  That was odd.  I usually did punishments. It was a rare day that I was called on to reward people. I didn’t have the temperament for it. 

Once I saw the reward, I understood.  Yes, they picked the right guy after all.

A pretty face appeared.  She was Hispanic with thick luscious black hair.  She was closer to my age than the young college kids I usually punished.  Her name was Teresa. 

Next were her address and a picture of her house.  The GPS in my phone already calculated a route. It was nearby. 

It was Saturday morning so I had been exercising.  It takes a lot of upper body strength to paddle, spank and wrestle as many women as I do.  I wasn’t a fitness nut but my biggest fear is to one day be spanking a woman and my wheezing is louder than her moans. 

I showered, dressed and got my equipment.  I played some loud music to get in the mood.  I stretched because stretching is fucking important.

The drive was short and sweet.  People did yard work and I pitied them.  I saw people jogging and I wondered if they too were part of the Invisible Collar.  A squirrel wondered into the street and I stopped and honked at it until it got off the road.

I pulled into Teresa’s driveway like I lived there.  If she had heard me and came to the door, things would have gotten complicated but lucky for me, she didn’t. 

I stepped out of my car and headed for the side door.  Years of practice kept me from looking to see if I was being watched.  My hand slipped into my pocket as if reaching for my keys but instead I pulled out a small set of lock picks.

“The Invisible Collar teaches, the Invisible Collar learns,” I whispered to myself.  I swear that I do more preparation work for the Invisible Collar than I do actual fucking. Classes on locks, classes on rope, classes on spanking and even classes on fucking breathing eat into my free time. 

I picked the lock in less than a minute. 

The door opens into the kitchen.  I smell garlic, lemon and shrimp.  A glance at the stove told me that lunch was homemade and most likely delicious.  I liked a woman who cooks in this day and age.

I listened and I heard the sounds of a science fiction television series.  Shit, Teresa was a pretty cool chick.

It is time to go to work.  I stripped off my clothes as silently as possible. It was easier said than done.  My clothes were folded and left neatly on the counter.

Once I was completely naked, it was time for the mask.  I slipped the black cloth over my face.  The world changed to grey.  The eye holes were designed to be completely invisible.  My face was smoothed away. I was a featureless void. 

My heart was pounding hard.  This wasn’t my first time doing this was it was still difficult.  I was in naked in a stranger’s house.  She had no idea I was here.  I was a faceless naked nightmare.  If the Invisible Collar was wrong, if I had come to the wrong house or if a million other things were different than expected, this day could turn into a traumatic experience for everyone.

I breathed.  I gave myself over to the Invisible Collar’s plans.

I walked into the living room.  Book shelves lined the walls.  I liked Teresa a little bit more.

She was sitting on the couch, her back to me.  The television babbled technical terms that only existed in science fiction.  There was no one else here.

I crossed over to her, my feet silently walking on the carpet.  My hand lunged for her hair and I yanked her head back.  She screamed and a glass of water fell from her hand.  She was dressed in a faded t-shirt and sweat pants.  The points of her nipples were visible under her shirt.  She had not been expecting company.

I pulled her head back to face me.  Teresa screamed a second time and shook. I looked down at her in silence. 

A smile broke across her lips.  “The Invisible Collar demands,” she said.

“And the Invisible Collar rewards,” I answered. 

“Oh thank God,” she sighed.

I reached down with my other hand and grabbed a breast.  It was plump and soft underneath her shirt.  My hand crushed around her tit like a vice.  The t-shirt gave no protection as my fingers squeezed.

“Oh God, oh God,” Teresa moaned.  She tried to rise off the couch as my grip became painful.  I kept a hold of her hair as she writhed.  She was strong but I was so much stronger. 

I let go of her breast and grabbed the bottom of her shirt.  I pulled it up and let go of her hair.  Teresa didn’t struggle at all as I took the shirt off of her.

Tow lovely brown breasts were revealed.  An angry handprint decorated her right breast.  The other breast tempted me with and I reached for it.  Teresa tried to dodge my hand but I was too quick.  My hand grabbed her tit and my fingers squeezed with cruel joy.

“Oh shit!” Teresa yelled.  She glared at me but it was hard to take her seriously when she was smiling like that.

I released her breast and grabbed her throat.  Shock blossomed on her face.  My fingers closed around her throat and a dreamy look came over her dark eyes.  She fell back onto the couch and I bent over her with my hand at her throat.

I squeezed.  She made a choking sound. 

I squeezed harder.  She looked up at my masked face and shuddered.

I squeezed tighter, dangerously tight.  Teresa spread her legs and lifted her hips to me.

My other hand went to her crotch.  I had to cross my arm over the other but hey, real life was never as picture perfect as porn was. My fingers pressed down against the material of her pants.  Tremendous heat warmed my fingers.

I was beginning to love this woman.

I let go of her throat.  Teresa gasped for air.  My hands went back to her hair.  I lifted her up by the hair and she screamed.  As strong as I was, it must have hurt like hell. 

My hands dragged her over the back of the couch.  She stumbled and followed without any choice in the matter. 

“Tell me what you want!” Teresa yelled. 

I answered her by spinning her around and bending her over the back of the couch.  I let go of her hair and yanked down her sweat pants.  A beautiful round ass greeted me.  I had this urge to bite her ass but the mask didn’t have a hole for my mouth.  Besides, this was her reward, not mine.

I reached between her legs.  Teresa parted her legs in an instant.  I groaned as I felt thick pubic hair.  My fingers slipped inside her for a teasing moment before slipping back out.  She was so damn wet.

Teresa moaned and then whimpered at my teasing.  Her moan quickly turned into a scream.

My fingers had grabbed her pubic hair and pulled.  It wasn’t a strong pull because I wanted to keep my grip but it wasn’t a gentle pull either.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Teresa yelled.  “What do you want, what do you want? Just tell me!”

What did I want? I wanted to get her number.  I wanted to watch her show with her.  I wanted to have a bite of whatever she made for lunch.  I wanted to check out her books and see if we had similar tastes. That was what I wanted but the Invisible Collar had rules about their members dating.  

It also wasn’t what I was here for.

I released her pubic hair and pressed my cock against her.  Teresa moaned and lifted her ass to me.  I slipped between her thighs and into her sex.

“Fuck!” Teresa cried out.  Fuck indeed.  She was wet and I was hard.  She was tight and I was horny.  She was at home and I was the intruder.

I fucked her.  The couch shook from my thrusts.  The TV kept playing as Teresa screamed.  My cock pushed deep into her wanting sex.

Teresa started to rise and I pushed her head down.  I kept her bent over the couch.  I fucked faster.  My grip was an iron bar on her head.  She was pinned between the couch and my cock.

“Take me!” Teresa yelled.

“Use me like a bitch!” she screamed.

“Take my whore pussy!” she yelled.

Teresa screamed as she lost herself in the madness of her lust.  She was living her dream.  She was getting used against her will despite how willing she was.

The mask was tight around my face. It trapped my breathing and kept the hot air around me.  My head was in an oven but my cock was somewhere hotter.

Teresa screamed her climax.  She reached back and tried to stop my hips but I slapped her hands away.  I was slipping into my role.  I couldn’t have dinner with her but I could have her body. 

I bent over her body and kept fucking.  My hand reached under her and grabbed a bouncing breast.  My fingernails bit into her tender flesh as my hips slammed into her.  She was soft and warm and eager to the touch. 

She climaxed again on the back of the couch.

I pulled out of her.  She sighed with relief as my cock left her sensitive sex.  The sigh turned to a squeal of shock as I grabbed her long black hair and pulled her to the ground. 

I forced her onto her back and this time she kept her legs closed.  I was not going to be denied.  My hand grabbed her thighs and parted her easily.  She moaned as knelt between her legs and she moaned louder as I entered her again.

My hand went to her throat and a tremor ran through her.  My grip was tight but not as tight as before.  I choked her gently as my hips fucked her roughly.

The carpet was hell on my knees but I kept at it.  It hotter inside my mask but I kept fucking.  My damn back started to ache but my hips kept pumping. All of my pains and discomforts were kept hidden inside the mask.  All Teresa knew was that she was being fucked by a faceless monster; which is just the way she liked it.

Teresa struggled but it was a token resistance.  Her hands went to my chest and pushed but I was unyielding.  Her feet dug into the carpet but my cock kept stayed inside her.  I grabbed her hand at one point and slammed it into the floor.  She smiled as I kept her hand pinned.

Her eyes glazed and she was about to climax again.  My fingers tightened around her throat. She smiled, frowned and then moaned. I felt her thankfulness as her thighs closed around me.

She came and I released her throat.  She sucked in air in between my thrusts to her sex. 

I was close.  It was time to end this. 

I pulled out of her and stood up.  Teresa lay on the floor, unmoving and sated.  I laughed but the mask turned it into a grunt.  I reached down once more to grab her hair.  This time she helped as I lifted her to a kneeling position.

She opened her mouth and took my cock.  I didn’t have to say anything.  I fucked her face and she choked once more.

My cock erupted and she swallowed me.  I kept her head pinned to my cock but it was unnecessary.  She licked clean every drop.

Orgasm brought bliss.  Bliss brought complacency. I thought about how much we had in common. I wanted to ask Teresa out.  I considered the anger of the Invisible Collar and I was willing to risk it.  

She looked up at me with my cock still in her mouth.  Her eyes were filled with adoration for me.

No, not me.  It was her attacker she adored.  It was the faceless man who had broken into her house and used her.  It was a concept that she will masturbate to tonight and the last thing she wanted was to know that the masked attacker had a name.

I pushed her back to the floor and rolled her over.  She screamed when I slapped her ass.

“Stay here,” I said.  “Count to a hundred before rising.  Get up before then, and the Invisible Collar will be displeased.”

“Okay,” she said.

Teresa would probably stay down there even after she counted.  I doubt she had the strength left to move.  She probably just wanted to stay on the rough carpet and treasure the experience she just had.

I wet back into the kitchen.  I redressed and took off the mask.  Out the door I went and back to my car as if nothing had happened.

If I was lucky, she might earn herself another reward in the future.