Fulfilled husband's dream
I woke up lying on the right side. I was awaken by decisive husband’s hands, slowly and enjoying the process, squeezing my chest. Involuntarily waking up, I felt his erect cock touching my buttocks and I habitually arched the back, leaning towards him.
As always in the morning he fucked me slowly and taking his time. I was staying in a dream, half asleep, taking him, realizing that I couldn’t escape and I just needed to wait until he would cum.
Finally he had cum and I hardly getting up, walked over to wash. I was still sleepy, but I couldn’t stand his cum flowing out over my buttocks.
While I was washing, he drank a glass of water, in the morning he had no breakfast, and went to town. For the whole morning we didn't say a word to each other.
I went back to bed, but couldn’t fall asleep any longer, so I decided to go to the forest to hunt for mushrooms. I woke up our son, warned him about this and went to the forest.
In the last evening it was raining, and I was walking from one birch bolete to another one, involuntarily remembering the morning sex and the evening words that he made a perfect whore out of me who is yielding under the power of the habit to have sex no matter what position I was set.
Internally resisting his words, I leaned over the next mushroom and suddenly felt strong hands squeezed my buttocks. Involuntarily twitching, I tried to straight up, but the same palms confidently pulled my sweat pants along with the panties down and I involuntarily and habitually knelt down. My husband always did that way when he wanted me from behind.
In a moment I felt his cock sliding along my vagina and I barely gasped when he plunged in me down to the balls. It didn't hurt. There was a sense of routine. I was just being fucked. As each day.
The only difference was that the rapist, waiting for my resistance, squeezed my butt cheeks too much and too quickly made his frictions.
Five minutes later, realizing I wouldn’t resist, he tempered his pace, but instead I got another thing. He lifted up my shirt, undid the bra and freed my boobies. He began to knead and squeeze them. I don't know what problem he had, but he couldn’t cum.
In the end, I found myself lying on my back and he was sitting on my stomach and jerking off on my breasts.
But he failed to cum that way either, and in the end, sucking him, I suddenly remembered the words of my husband, that he made me a perfect whore simply physiologically responding to every penis, trying to bring him to orgasm...
Back home, I first rinsed my mouth and brushed my teeth. I didn’t rinse the lettuce out of interest to understand whether my husband would realize while fucking me, that day I fulfilled his dream and became a real whore.
That’s because when he finally came, I didn’t run away making him repeat again and again...
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