2 comments/ 25645 views/ 22 favorites Bench Seat Wife By: away443 There I was, lurking in the company truck for a whole hour. It was dark and I was parked on the curb by the university parking garage. Just waiting. Not even really sure for whom. It could have been a prank, an ugly transvestite, an old fat man. Someone laughing at the thought I'd come out and drive an hour and then wait longer to meet a fake person. Everyone hopelessly trolls for pussy online. Most of the time you see scammers, spammers and flakes. But she posted something that sounded like a real person wrote it. The ad said "Looking for married man with bench seat for safe car anal," which was ... just way too specific to be a scam. She responded quickly to my replies, and always to the point. Very specific, like she paid attention. Maybe she was testing whether I was a robot too by saying the first thing she wanted to see was my family pictures to prove I was married. Yeah, sure, I figured. Whatever. I can do that. As we were emailing back and forth I was very nervous, but weirdly turned on in hopes that this was a real thing, making me sport a semi the entire afternoon. For some reason I was supposed to be home with my family very soon, but, sometimes a deep nasty urge makes you want to damn the consequences. Wife's texts went unread. I mean, ... what if this girl from the ad was real? There were plenty of people walking around, finishing their work shifts, classes or whatever. When you're in a parked car, everyone's eyes follow you. The fat construction worker was walking way too slow so that I was sure he'd open the door and introduce himself as Jennifer. Luckily he just kept walking. The trickle of people slowed down and then it was down to late workers. Finally, I saw her. She was heavyset, wearing stretch pants and carrying a dark satchel, just like she said she would. Headed straight to me, eye-fucking me as she walked. Once she got closer, she screwed up her face uncontrollably, like she too was disappointed with the blind match. Which was only fair. After all, I'm a middle-aged, out-of shape blue collar guy with a moustache and a mild comb-over. It's not like I misrepresented myself, but people tend to hope for the best despite being told otherwise. My heart was beating fast and my throat felt dry. Pretty sure I'd crack up like a teenager trying to say anything. She stopped right by the passenger door and reached for the handle. I closed my eyes. But then, nothing happened. I looked over and she was walking away, having pulled her phone out of a pocket. Very shortly thereafter, she rounded the corner. What the hell? Did she just blow me off without saying anything? What was she thinking? What the fuck, I showed her a recent picture of me, admitted I wasn't a fantasy but a working class carpenter and that I didn't actually have a bench seat. The family minivan had bucket seats, but the company truck they sometime let me take home had a nice wide bench. A welt of anger surged through me and I wished that this wasn't a cruel rejection. Would have been so much nicer if this was a prank instead. Feeling hurt, I was about to turn the key and drive on home to a late family dinner when I heard the passenger door handle move. To my shock, a lithe girl wearing a fancy business skirt and jacket opened the door and sat down. She was just stunningly gorgeous. All made up with lipstick and eyeshadow and whatever else they put up there near the eyes. She was about 5'5", maybe 130 lbs if she was soaking wet, with dark hair and incredibly fair skin. Looked like she was in her late 20s, and I figured she got into the wrong truck. But then there was a dark satchel in her lap. "Are you Mike?" Forgetting entirely about my earlier disappointment, I just muttered "Yeah that's me" and then my heart remembered to start racing again. My feeling of rejection was completely replaced by nervousness likes of which I've never experienced before. The entire evening was starting to feel like a very unpleasant roller-coaster of being unprepared. Her face never cracked a smile, it was all just business. She was pretty, her cheekbones pronounced and toned. "OK. Lets see your family pictures." Why did she just ask me for that? I thought she was joking earlier that morning. "Come again?", I said. She tilted her face inquisitively and repeated herself, "Your family photos. You said you'd show them to me so I can make sure of who you are. Not joking." For about an eternity I stared at her to make sure she was real, and for real. My eyes swept her from top to bottom. Seeing my gaze, she figured I was buying time so she unbuttoned her tight jacket. She was wearing some kind of heeled shoes, making her seem taller. Despite being short, her knees were noticeably raised higher than the bench seat she was sitting on. Glancing up, I saw light brown or maybe nude pantyhose, a dark business skirt with faint vertical stripes and its matching jacket. The skirt seemed stretchier and shorter by every second, because she was leaning back to unbutton and thus slowly pulled it up over her knees. Once her jacket opened up, I noticed a faded pink camisole with intricate lacy fringes. There were two rings on her ringfinger. Why would she ask me for my family photos? What was this fine-assed girl doing in my truck anyhow? Without actually doing it, she almost snapped her fingers at me with a demand. "Hey, I want to see family photos or I'm walking out of here. You got taken seriously, and now you have to reciprocate." Aside from a saw, I wasn't exactly sure what that word meant but I took it that she meant business. So I fake-coughed to buy some time, dug out my phone from my pocket and opened up the Facebook app. Somewhere in there was a family album from the other week. While I was thumbing through it, she scooted over closer to me and was craning her neck to see the screen. Her leg touched mine, her lightly curly hair obstructed a notch of my vision, and I smelled perfume on her neck. It smelled like honeysuckle and it was like an instant fire to my loins. My dick got a primeval burst of blood and showed up as a spasm through my pants. I froze, not sure if she saw it stirring. The pictures were up. She started swiping at the phone and thumbing through the pictures while I held it for her. There was my family, my wife's aunt who lives with us, our disappointing house, my unkempt face, my idiot kids, and my homely and very chubby wife. "Does your wife work?", she asked. My throat went dry and I couldn't for the life of me figure out if this girl was fucking with me. "Uh, no, Linda stays at home with the kids most of the time." Was this a bizarre sociology experiment of some kind? She looked around to make sure no one was watching. Did this girl ever smile? "Alright, let me see your cock." She couldn't be fucking with me at this point so I too looked around to see if anyone was nearby. Then, I arched my back forward to loosen my belt a little, fumbling with my zipper for an embarrassingly long moment. To buy more time, I pretended to look around again and then finally managed to fish it out. It was semi-hard and my underwear caught in the zipper just a tiny bit so my dick wasn't all the way out. Without hesitating, she grabbed it with her right hand and used her left hand to unbutton my pants. Surprised me. Last thing I was expecting was for her to just grab it. Her fingernails were short and painted a pretty purple. Once my dick was all the way out, she let go of it and it just lazily plopped down over my loose belt. With her hands now free, she pushed herself closer to me, shifting her body so her leg was practically on top of mine. It made me feel like she wanted to touch me. Without any hesitation, she grabbed my dick again with her left hand and started stroking it slowly up and down, leaning over to see it better up close. Her hair almost touched down to her hand. God, I wanted her to suck it. She stopped stroking, bent it this way and that for a closer look, and then leaned back and kept on jacking it. Guess she was making sure I didn't have open sores or something, which was probably an impolite thing for her to do, but I didn't care. Her eyes stayed fixed on it while she stroked, and her mouth opened up absent-mindedly and stayed open as long as I remember. Her small hand felt so incredibly soft, like velvet. Her grip wasn't too firm, just enough to freely slide over my penis, and drag some skin up and down gently with her strokes. It all felt amazing. It also made my dick grow harder with each pump. It had been so many years since I've felt a hand that soft. My own hands are covered with callouses and feel like 60 grit sandpaper. Her eyes were still locked on my dick and her mouth was still open while she breathed through it. If she wasn't so gorgeous and beautiful, I would have closed my eyes and moaned. But I had to stare, because right in front of me was her blouse, and I was looking down it. Some kind of a dark purple lacy bra was sticking out just a tiny bit from what I thought was a low-cut camisole. Her breasts looked like a decent handful even for my big hands and firmly stuck straight out, cleavage casting a dark shadow inside her shirt. Between her soft hand stroking me and what I was seeing, my dick got really hard. Like once in a few months level of hard. Her mouth still open like she was going to drool over my cock, she moaned and slowly said in what sounded like her version of a porny voice, "Now that's a nice big hairy dick." All my life I knew I was average length and girth, but then again I was 6'2" and she was almost a foot shorter than me, so I accepted that it seemed big to her without her mocking me. But hairy was uncalled for. I'm sensitive about my body. Sure, I didn't shave my dick and balls or really trim it but I didn't think it was that bad. It always seemed natural to me. What a weird thing for her to say. So, I responded neutrally with the stupidest line I could think of, "Yeah, do you like that?" She stopped stroking my dick, closed her mouth, tucked it back into my pants and slid back to the passenger side, fumbling with something in her purse. Before I concluded that me saying something stupid blew it, she buckled her seat belt and said "Why don't you park on the 5th floor?" Drive up to the fifth floor was a bit of a blur. I remember going into the parking garage, through a ramp, pressing a button, getting a parking ticket thing and creeping up slowly in the truck until she pointed to a dark spot behind the last turn and told me to park there. Some garage lights were out and nearby cars were mostly covered in dust. No one complained about those lights, and no one seemed to be around. Ever. My phone buzzed, it was probably my wife again wondering when I'd be home. I didn't care. I shut the engine off and suddenly it was more silent than a tomb. She breathed out, unbuckled herself and slid back to sit right next to me. My heart was beating fast. "Do you like shaved pussy?", she asked looking me right in the eyes. That direct question almost gave me a heart attack. Fuck yes I like shaved pussy. My wife is not a fan of it, and I only get to see it in porn. Like a dumb mute, I nodded. She gave me a look like she wanted a verbal answer, so I said "Uh yeah, I love it." In a slightly husky voice she replied, "Too bad you'll never get to feel this wet shaved pussy." Before I could even process what she meant by that - I mean, was she toying with me? - she arched her back, dug her hands behind her skirt and pulled down her pantyhose side to side until they just reached her mid thighs, past her skirt that now rode up half a foot. With the pantyhose came down her purple panties, and in the dim light you could see just how much they were glistening. Holy fuck, this girl was wet. And I mean wet. What did she mean I couldn't feel it? I could literally smell it. It was right there, inches away from me hiding under her skirt, and she just about served it on a platter for me. "Does your wife shave her pussy?" she asked. It's funny now that I think about it, but she had a knack for throwing me off balance and then giving me rope to reel myself in with. I could answer that question without thinking about anything, so I did. "Uh, no, she's kind of old fashioned." She raised the front of her skirt up just enough to show me her pussy lips. I swear, the moment I saw them, I smelled honeysuckle again and got harder than earlier, my dick straining uncomfortably against my pants. Her shaved mound was darker than rest of her skin, and her pussy lips were pink and glistening like her panties. I was hypnotized by what I was seeing. She continued, "What do you mean? Shaving a pussy is not a fashion." She spread her legs for a brief moment so I could see better. Rather than talk about it, I just wanted to watch her spread her bare pussy lips. But she was the talkative kind so I replied without thinking, "Well I guess she said that it was unsettling, that young girls these days shave it and make it seem like they're prepubescent when they should be maturing. Or some such." As far as I remember it, that's exactly what my wife said when I asked her to shave hers. Jennifer's reply took me completely by surprise so that I nearly choked on an air bubble. She chortled and said "Really? An unemployed stay-at-home housewife knows about maturing and being mature?" That stab really hurt. I was confused, maybe angry in that instant moment. Here I was obviously trying to cheat on my wife, but I also felt defensive about her to a stranger who was showing me her pussy. My dick got softer and without rationalizing it, I felt indignant and started backtracking, "Now wait a minute, that's not fair to..." She cut me off by exhaling loudly and then removing her jacket. With the rustling noises the fabric made, and her moving around to take it off, I figured she couldn't hear me so I paused until she was done. Before I could finish my thought, she pulled the front of her skirt back over herself, turned toward the glove compartment, backed her soft ass against me and invited me to feel her up. Whatever she had literally said is still a blur to me; she interrupted my sentence before I got anywhere with it. Still feeling that confused rise of anger I decided to keep my mouth shut and just run my greedy hands over her petite body while I still could. My god, was she fine. And a bitch. Tight body, nearly athletic build, and wearing pantyhose and ladylike clothes I could only dream about my wife wearing. My hand slid up her thigh and just barely skidded under her skirt, but before I could reach for her pussy, she turned to me and barked, "Don't you touch my pussy or anywhere below my waist, or I'm walking out." "Didn't you just tell me to feel you up?" She made a face that hid nothing. I was an idiot, a buffoon, a chubby handyman in a borrowed truck with a beautiful woman way above my class, and she said as much with that look. It made me angry. She continued, "Are you an idiot? I said feel me up. That means up, not down. Up like my tits. You can feel my tits up over my shirt." My dick was still hard, she glared at me with a disciplined hatred in her eyes, and I wanted nothing more than to punch her in the face as hard as I could. My own face must have turned red, because it always does when I'm angry, and I thought to myself "fine, you crazy bitch, you want me to feel you up, I'll feel you up." I turned to face the same way she was, leaning over closer to her and quickly ran my big meaty hands under her arms and right over her tits, and squeezed. Women don't like them to be squeezed. They're tender and soft and sensitive. For two minutes I squeezed, and pulled, and massaged and grunted and pulled so her whole body was sliding over the seat toward me, with my big ape hands greedily groping her. Handling her tits like I would a sack of potatoes was my substitute for punching her, and I glared right back at her while I did it. Her shirt got all stretched out of shape. Her purple bra stuck out in places. Her facial expression conveyed complete disgust. She looked away, and I couldn't believe what she said next. "Kiss the back of my neck." With that, somehow my angry erection turned into a puzzlement. My fully erect penis now seemed like it was just a semi-chubby, and that it could somehow get even harder. I've never experienced anything like this before. My phone buzzed again and I ignored it, instead leaning over and putting my lips right between her neck and her shoulder. With my hand I parted her hair, and kissed her there. With that kiss, I smelled honeysuckle again and felt my dick spasm again. This crazy bitch was prodding me with a stick, and enjoying it. And enjoying my reaction. I didn't understand why, but I just went along with it because her tits felt amazing. They had been entirely firm and perky not too long ago, and had just started softening up, and oh god, to be young again. "Where's that big hairy dick?" she purred and reached behind for it with her left hand. Her eyes were closed, she was craning her neck slowly against my lips and offering more of her fair neck skin to me, and when she finally pulled my dick out, her nipples shot through her shirt like they were nails. Her moans were porn quality, like no one ever did this to her before. She cautioned me not to leave a mark, so I more gently kissed her neck and kept kneading her young tits. My dick was bent forward and her soft hand was stroking and bending it back and forth gently, because that's the only way she could reach it. She gyrated closer to me, then raised her left leg and lowered it between mine, so it was held in place by her stretched pantyhose. Then she did something weird. She lifted that leg directly over my dick, pulled up her pantyhose halfway and inserted my hard dick between her leg and the pantyhose. It felt like nothing I've ever felt before. When I'd slowly grind myself toward her, my dick would slide over the silky pantyhose and under her soft smooth leg. It didn't feel uncomfortable, despite being bent forward a bit, but I didn't have anything to compare this to. Guess it felt good. This strange sensation could probably - eventually - make me cum. Also, not entirely sure, but I think her wet pussy rubbed up against my leg a little bit. God bless her for being limber. She turned to me and whispered, "Your wife doesn't let you fuck her ass, does she?" It felt like a trap again. It was a false choice question. She's playing with me. I say "yes she does", she walks away because I then don't need it or something. I say "no she doesn't", she makes me explain or demands to pee on my face. If I really could actually explain why my wife doesn't do anal, I'd understand my wife better, and probably be a national TV sensation from my super-human level of empathy. No good answer. Problem is, she brought up the word "anal" which reminded me of the pretend reason we met (because there's no way she's for real), and that made my dick spasm again. So I said nothing. Turns out each time my dick spasms, it squirts out some precum. She felt that on her leg, and accepting that as my negative answer, said nothing. Instead, she knocked my hands off her breasts and then pulled her tits out of her bra so they just hung naked over her shirt. Fuck that looked hot. Young feisty bitch, in prime of her life, with her nice fucking tits out. She then guided my hands back to them. Released out of her firm bra, her flesh was much softer. I gently fondled them while she moaned. It's amazing how a young woman's moans can subtly scream "horny." I spewed some more precum on her nylons, and by this point I was pretty much humping her leg full-time in slow motion. My phone buzzed again in my pants and I ignored it again, though I took that opportunity to look over and watch my dick slide in and out of her pantyhose. It didn't always move straight, on some strokes it would slip to the right and almost touch her wet panties. Maybe it did a few times. I wanted it to. My hands were on her bare breasts, feeling her up, gently pinching her hard nipples, my dick was lubricating itself and fucking her pantyhose when she said "kiss my neck" again. Bench Seat Wife When I leaned over to do just that, she turned around quickly and stuck her tongue in my mouth. It felt electrified. My dick spurted some more precum, I started humping her leg with a faster rhythm as we kissed. Her hands cupped over mine, encouraging me to be rougher in my groping. She kissed me like she needed it bad. It felt heavenly. It was all wrong, all dirty, and she was one sick nasty bitch, and she was letting me do all this to her. Then she pulled away, leaving me and my dick all alone, and it all stopped as quickly as it had started. She started sighing like she decided that she had made a big mistake and started digging through her satchel, or was it a purse? With that, I figured that my fifteen minutes of fun were over and now she was looking for her car keys, so I zipped up and pulled out my phone to see just how big of trouble I was in with the wife. Just as the screen lit up and I saw the number of missed messages, she demanded, "Hey, I'm not done yet. Pull that big hairy dick out." In her hand was a condom and a small bottle of lube. Was she for real? This far, and I still wasn't sure, but mesmerized by the sight I pulled my pants down to my ankles and grabbed my dick. In my hand, it looked small. She replaced my hand with hers, and it seemed big again. Using her mouth, she tore open the condom package and then tossed the wrapper in the back seat. In my mind I grumbled, and made a mental note to throw it out before I get home. My dick was oozing tons of precum by now as she put the condom over it. For half a minute she struggled to roll the condom over it before realizing she had it on backwards. Instead of using a new condom, she just flipped it over and finished rolling it on. Didn't she realize that now there'd be tons of my precum on the outside, facing her? But I said nothing. She then opened the bottle of lube and squeezed too much of it on my covered dick. Or maybe it was just enough, I don't know. This was all sort of new to me. All I knew is that everything she did felt magical. Never in my life did foreplay feel this good. A hot girl like this would never cross my path, let alone under these circumstances. She spread lube all around the condom with her hand, and then realized she had to wipe her hand off somewhere. She settled for her panties and while rubbing the excess lube off of them, pulled down her pantyhose all the way down to her knees. I was hypnotized, just watching and waiting and wondering what she will let me do. Was she serious about anal, or was this going to be a pity handjob? She said, "I bet your whore wife lets other men fuck her in the ass." "Excuse me?" I said. She was getting hostile again and I just didn't know what to think about that. And I also felt defensive again, despite my trying to betray my wife. "Now, you crossed the line there. That's just downright mean and this is making me feel really uncomfortable." I felt both belittled and angry at the accusation that my wife would cheat on me like that. My dick started shrinking and my heart rate started racing in anger. Somehow I got myself in this position and regretted ever trolling classifieds. It was as if I said nothing at all. Nothing phased her, nothing registered to her as deserving an appropriate response. Instead, she slowly turned away toward the passenger window. Leaning forward, she hiked up her skirt entirely over her midriff, then crossed her legs a tiny bit and pushed off so that her body rested on her hip with her ass spread in that pose. The end result was I was staring at the most magnificent ass I would ever see in person. Every tiny movement she made caused it to jiggle slightly. Her ass was a perfect round teardrop shape, her panties were pulled down along with her pantyhose, her beautiful tits were out and she was looking back and smiling. Actually smiling, like she didn't realize she just made very hurtful comments. Or she didn't care. She used one of her witch hands to spread her ass cheeks further apart, giving me a good look at her smooth asshole. It was just beautiful, and it looked horny. It needed to be fucked. Her pussy lips showed up as a straight line underneath it, all wet and dripping. I could smell honeysuckle again and started stroking my lubed up dick. The condom felt weird, like a second skin that lagged far behind the stroke. The wife and I don't use them anymore and it's been a long time. She spread her ass cheeks some more and whispered, "Don't you want to fuck this tight ass?" and just like that, she defused my anger. Jennifer reached behind and started stroking my dick in the direction of her asshole. I turned with it and pushing myself off the floorboard, positioned my hips so I was right behind her. God, she was beautiful. And had such a rockin' body. That made it okay that she was batshit insane and that I was sitting in an uncomfortable position pressed against the backrest. I put my hands on her hips and felt another stir of desire I hadn't felt in a long time; just from holding her like that, I wanted to fuck her. Badly. She rocked her ass back and forth so my head was pressing against her tight hole, and then in the sweetest quiet voice I've heard her use said, "Look- she stays at home all the time, probably gets bored, you know?" Her eyes were locked with mine, and she stopped breathing. Her mouth was open, and all she was doing was exhaling as she pushed her ass against my cock. Her hand held the base of my hard cock like a safety stop-gap. My head slipped in slowly, and I couldn't believe she got it in. She gasped, and it hurt her. It had to hurt her. She was a small girl, and she took it. Unbelievable. Without blinking, she continued whispering, "Then she feels guilty about it and lets guys fuck her in the ass to punish herself for being such a whore." Pretty sure I turned red again, though she wasn't watching any more. She pushed back more, and half of my cock slipped into her tight ass, stopping at her hand. It felt amazing, I couldn't think at all. It was warmer than any pussy I've ever had, and tighter but somehow soft. Her ring felt tightest and it was so incredible to feel it slide over my dick. Biggest turnon was watching her hole get slowly stretched. Second biggest turn-on was knowing it was hurting her. There she was with her wet shaved pussy, but she wouldn't let me fuck it. There she was talking smack about people she knew nothing about, and making me angry with her comments. Yeah, I wanted her to hurt for it, so I pushed my hard cock all the way to her hand. She closed her eyes and squealed in what sounded like pain and then moaned in a way that sounded like straining. Straining against her will. My dick in her ass made her feel uncomfortable, I was sure of that. I grunted and grabbed her tits while I was slowly starting to fuck her ass. When I picked up some speed, she softly cried out "oh fuck" and after a minute followed up with "shit, shit, that's a nice big hairy dick." I didn't like her calling it that way, so I grabbed her tits harder, so hard it left purple bruises later. Instead of crying out, she turned around and kissed me again. I fucked her ass harder for it. Her hand slipped off and she used it to brace herself against the seat. My dick fucked her deeper and deeper each time. Her hole was getting stretched more and more. She turned away and held onto the passenger side handhold and moaned each time I pumped my cock into her. It felt so amazing. Her ass was so tight and since I'd never done this before, it made me want to cum right away. She encouraged me by moaning "fuck my ass harder" a few times. I didn't want it to end soon, so I bit my lower lip to distract myself from orgasming. Few times she snorted like her nose was runny, and once when she turned around I saw that her eyes were watery. Couple of minutes into me fucking her beautiful ass, she must have figured out I was stalling so she taunted me. Between gasps, she said "you'll never get to fuck this smooth shaved pussy." Not sure what she thought that would do for me, but that made me slow down. Suddenly I wasn't so close to an orgasm. She sensed me slowing down and then stopped everything by getting up on her knees. My dick slipped out. Turning around, she made my blood boil with a single sentence. With a nasty look on her face, she said "What's a matter, can't cum with that comb-over?" I wanted to kill her. There was no need for her to go there and I couldn't restrain myself anymore, yelling, "You crazy bitch, what the fuck is your problem?" I felt flushed, angry and trapped and just wanted to kick her out of this truck and run away. Before I could so much as make a move to that effect, she reached over and pulled the condom off my dick, threw it on the back seat, and teasingly spat, "Your wife will never shave her pussy for you. You'll never fuck her smooth shaved pussy or ass." This privileged cunt made me want to brain her with a prybar from the back seat. Suddenly something in my brain clicked. A stray synapse fired and connected a few loose dots. It was the way she said it all earlier: I'll never get to feel her smooth shaved pussy / my wife doesn't shave her pussy / I'll never get to fuck her shaved pussy / my wife doesn't let me fuck her in the ass. The sequence became cohesive somehow but I wouldn't get to understand it until much later. All it did for me now is silence me into confusion, because I was now sure that she was imagining being my worthless wife. She slipped off her shoes, turned completely away toward the passenger window, got on all fours on the seat, and presented her ass for more fucking. Her skirt was hiked up, pantyhose and panties were pulled down to the seat. As tempting as that looked, I was pretty sure I was going to just bolt and leave the truck behind, but then she made my dick get hard again. This is incredibly sick and twisted, but she moaned a few sentences like a little girl and I was hypnotized. I just couldn't stop myself. I couldn't leave. She spread her ass cheeks apart with her pretty hands and raspily said, "Pretend I'm your wife. Fuck your whore wife in the ass." Her pink asshole looked so inviting. This girl was whack. A total stranger, her bare asshole inches away from my hard dick, and she wanted me to imagine that she was my wife. But a younger version of her, with a tight body and level of perversion that redefines sadism. The next ten minutes happened in slow motion in my head. Feeling like I was intoxicated on sex, out of my body and mind, I kicked off my shoes and pants and kneeled behind her, ducking under the roof. Feeling completely out of my mind, I stuck my big hairy dick in her asshole and fucked her bareback using her hanging tits as handlebars. Each stroke into her ass meant something. It wasn't just repetition. The first stroke was slow and deep on the account of my wife not having a job, because she didn't want to get one. She could have had a job, but instead she put that financial burden entirely on me. The next four strokes were slow and shallow, driving my big hairy dick steadily in, and later ones made obscene farting noises as I drove air into her ass. That noise made me feel like my dick was big, reaming her tiny asshole, embarrassing her. Each stroke made her moan in further discomfort. "Fuck yeah, cum in your wife's ass," she moaned. This girl was certifiably fucking crazy. Moving my hands down to her hips, the second wave of strokes were fast and deep because my wife often didn't cook, despite having all that time on her hands. Jennifer grunted when I rammed it all the way in. I could feel her wet pussy on my balls. I gave it to her hard for every time I could remember my wife belittling me in front of our relatives. Her tits paid for every time I had to do unnecessary chores. I wanted my wife to feel all that. In my head, Jennifer's cries somehow relayed that message to my wife. For my part, I was grunting hard enough and enjoying feeling her tight ring sliding up and down my cock. One time my wife made some very unpleasant comments about my hair. Remembering it, I pinched Jennifer's nipples hard and pushed more air into her asshole, producing more obscene farting noises. Hope she felt mortified by it because her taunting was winning me over and making me more excited now. "Show that bitch who's boss," she moaned between her clenched teeth. About ten minutes later, I grabbed her ass and hips with all my strength, pulled and slammed deep inside her growling, "You fucking whore," and, huffing and grunting like an idiot, came deep in her ass. She squealed the entire time I was spurting jizz into her. Then, for the first time ever, she reached under her skirt and started rubbing her pussy furiously. All spent, I pulled out and sat back watching her and catching up to my breath. Her asshole was agape above her vibrating hand. Her pussy lips were swollen and wet. Her head was now buried in the seat and she was screaming into it, moaning, straining, grunting, calling out names I didn't know, and something what sounded like crying. Hope she was still breathing, because her face was really dug into the seat. Her hand was a blur rubbing her clit back and forth, while a slow stream of thick white cum started coming out of her pretty asshole, ran down her hand where it got tossed on both sides of her legs with her masturbation. From there it ran down onto her pantyhose and lastly on the car seat. She took her time like I wasn't there and a few brief minutes later, her whole body tensed up and a big squirt of my cum fell out of her asshole as she strained under an orgasm. She came, went limp and unmoving, and then slowly collected herself. Without saying a word, she dressed up and walked out of the truck, and then got into her car parked on the other side of the parking garage level. I didn't know whether to say anything at all before she left, so I didn't. I was pissed at the lipstick she smeared on the passenger side seat. While I was tidying up and coming up with excuses for being home this late, I could have sworn I heard her slam her car door angrily in the far distance and then scream "FUCK!," moments before driving off. She was obviously someone who lived her perfectly orderly and organized life, while regularly fighting off her sick thoughts, her inner demons. Her neat life only accented her need for being drawn to trouble and dissociative roleplay of being someone else. Tonight, she apparently relapsed after staving it off for far too long. Whatever sick shit made her head tick, the abuse apparently only satisfied her until she orgasmed. The very split-second afterwards, she hated herself for acting out on it. I will never understand her, or what happened between us, but I can't help and wonder if she was inflicting punishment on herself for something she'd done earlier - by offering her ass to me - or if she'll seek later punishment for doing this. My phone buzzed again, and yet again I ignored it.