He had expected more of a fight from this one. She had hidden and attacked him when she thought he was unaware. And would have cleaved his head from his shoulders had he been a mite slower. But now she lay there, panting and glaring but not moving. Of course, there was little she could move, but he had seen woman fight with all their strength even though tied tighter than this one.

Slowly, he removed his jerkin, and quickly enough the leather pants were lowered and then cast aside. The male rod that sprang forth was, as he well knew, of bigger than normal size and, in its aroused state as it was now, had surprised and pleased many a woman. He watched as her gaze lowered from his face to his tool, searching for whatever reaction she might have. She said nothing and her face was hard to read - beyond the hatred, of course.

This one, he promised himself, was going to not be a quick thrust and grunt. Oh, no, he wanted to stretch this one out until he could no longer hold on. She was as beautiful and sexy a woman as he had ever seen. No, he corrected himself: this one was more beautiful than any other. Inside, he felt a longing for her body stronger than he had since he was a teen and the mysteries of women were just unveiling. He ached to shove his tool within her.

Kneeling between those spread legs, he prepared to do just that.

"You want it?" he demanded.

"Please kill me," she said.

"Is sex so bad that you wish to die first?" he laughed.

"With you - yes."

"I have known many women who thanked me. Many."

"Sluts," she spat. "Whores! Or helpless captives who were powerless to prevent it."

"Not at all. Still... why don't you tell me how it was for you afterwards?"

"No! Kill me."

"No. It would be a waste."

She begged with her eyes and he knew she was serious, but he also saw something else in those eyes.

Well, he told himself, she might get her wish, but later, after I have poked her a good one. All the same, he did not really want her unless she wanted it too, so he paused, watching those eyes carefully.

She said nothing, but her eyes were fixed on that thick rod of his.

All right, he thought. I can wait. She's going to want it; I just know she wants it.

For several minutes it was a battle of wills. He knew she wanted it, and she was determined not to tell him she wanted it. He waited. And waited. And waited...

"All right!" The words burst from her lips like an expletive.

"You want it?" He was sure, but he wanted to hear the words.

"I want it."

"You want what?"

Her eyes were shut and her face was screwed up into a grimace of pure hatred.

"I... want... you... to... fuck... me." She spat each word at him.

"I didn't quite hear you."

"Fuck me!" she screamed.

"Oh. Well, if you're sure..."

Spreading those black curls, he searched for and found the opening he sought. Then his massive rod was pressing against that opening, demanding entrance. Grabbing both of her ass cheeks with his big hands, he lifted her hips and shoved in a mighty heave.

She cried out, not a scream but more than just a startled cry. Looking at her face, he could see her eyes were closed and her features still contorted into a grimace. Smiling, he began a slow, even pumping. That smooth, hot flesh felt so good. And tight too! But not a virgin, he noted, and then was too absorbed in his task that he no longer noticed such minor points.

In, out, in out. Well, not quite out. With long, powerful strokes, he pumped away. His hands left the ass and wandered up to grab those wonderful breasts. With his strong fingers squeezing, he knew he would probably leave bruise marks but he did not care. The whole universe was shrinking down to his aching penis and her juicy, hot cunt.

His hands left those breasts and his arms wrapped around her, and then he was holding her body tightly to his with his rod buried deeply inside her. He grunted as his fluid shot into her deep channel; she whined.

He had hoped to make it last longer, but the sight of that perfect body, and the warm, tight embrace of her cunt clutching his manhood was just too much. And there was something she did that he had never encountered before. As the climax approached, the muscles in her vagina clenched like a hand holding tightly to his rod. Then they squeezed, as if that hand were milking his prick.

As he rolled of her, his only thought was "Damned good fuck!"

Later, when his body cooled down, he looked over at her. Big teardrops were creeping down her cheeks, accompanied by tiny, hurt whines.

"Oh, come on now, it couldn't have been that painful," he told her. "I'm big, but not THAT big!"

Those dark eyes opened slowly.

"I'm not crying because it hurt," those full, ripe lips told him. "I'm crying because it didn't hurt. I'm crying because it felt good."