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"I don't know what happened to put a bug up your ass," Ginny grated, "but I'm tired and I don't feel like putting up with your shit. I'm going to bed and you can come or not because I don't really care right now."There was no way that I could even consider sleeping in the same bed with her. The sense of revulsion was simply go great. The pain just kept increasing and it made thinking coherently almost impossible. I just sat there in that ratty old chair for the remainder of the night. I could not think but could only feel.Hours later, I heard her moving around our bedroom. I heard the shower come on and then minutes later stop. About a half hour later I heard her come into the kitchen and moments after that, I could smell coffee and bacon.For the second time in recent history, Ginny came into the basement, again stopping at the top of the stairs. I looked up at her without saying anything. I just stared as I tried desperately to keep my emotions from showing on my face."Do you want. I was wearing loose shorts as I usually did because of the hot climate, and I thought I detected a slight glance up my legs as she went about her business. She certainly gave my knee a nice friendly pat as she expressed her satisfaction at the way it was going. The swelling was much reduced – she kind of looked into my eyes when she said this – and she gave me some arnica cream to out on it. That’s a homeopathic remedy for bruising. She smeared it on and rubbed it gently into my skin, and I have to say that swelling began further up as she did that. She smiled softly to herself.“I can come back on Thursday,” she said. “If you like.” I nodded keenly. “Yes please.”“Same time okay with you?” she added as she stood up. I found it hard to take my gaze away from her mid section, imagining her pubic hair, her vagina and buttocks.“Yes. Okay, then,” she said when I didn’t answer her question. I felt a bit guilty after she had gone, hoping I hadn’t blown my chances by my clear and unsubtle.
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“I'm not wearing a condom,” he said. “You weren't last time either,” I said. “Does it matter?” “I'm going to put a lot of semen into you,” he said. “You did that last time too,” I said. “I survived it.” “But not yet,” he said. He began to drive himself in and out of me with enormous energy, lifting my ass in his hands and thrusting his dick into me as deep as it would go, over and over until I was screaming in ecstasy. I was coming so intensely that I didn't notice that he was emptying himself inside me until his weight pinned me down. When he rolled off, I felt his come running out of me. We rolled together and panted in each others arms. I felt drained and exhausted, sweaty, come dripping down my thighs, nasty. It was several minutes before either of us spoke. “Feel any less guilty this time?” he asked. “No,” I said. “I haven't really thought about it yet, but I'm sure I'll feel guilty later on. He'll have to really spank me hard this time.” “Oh?” “Yeah, maybe use his belt.” “That.

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