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Her mind began to turn. She stared at the white pearls of pre-cum dripping from the head of his gigantic penis and made herself a vow.
This is gonna be the last motherfucker to ever stick a dick or a knife in my face! Bad enough I have to suck that sorry ass William, but suck this stinking idiot, too?
The lines of distinction between this stranger and her husband grew fuzzy and William’s face seemed to float on the stranger’s body. Paris had to force herself not to jump on him and beat his ass for old and new. She knew she couldn’t whip the stranger in a fistfight, but she could hurt the bastard where it mattered most.
Paris cleared her pounding head and wrapped both hands around the girth of the stranger’s penis, sliding them up and down his shaft. Her skin began to crawl but she willed herself to keep the rhythm going.
“Oooh, yeah, thass right, Baby,” the stranger chanted. “Gone an git yours. Zoom it, lady… zoom it all da way in! C’mon, Baby, lemme see ya’ deep throat it!”
Pumping his hips, the stranger relaxed his grip and propped his knife hand behind his head. Then he lay back and panted, enjoying the feel of her small hands as they pumped around the center of his world. “Yesss,” he moaned. “I done finally found me a bitch who want it jes’ as much as I do!” The stranger licked his lips. “See how nice you kin ack after you git summa the piss knocked outta ya?”
You nasty motherfucker! Paris swallowed back bile but her hands moved up and down like she was churning butter. She forced herself to lower her right hand and slide her fingers under the soft sac of his scrotum. Immediately, she was repulsed by the texture of his skin and had to will herself not to shrink away. Thick keloid scars felt alien under her fingers, and the smell of his unwashed body was nearly enough to cause her to black out again.
But Paris kept working.
The stranger’s hips bucked up and down on the sofa as he pumped up and down with deep strokes. Feeling backward toward his asshole, Paris—her thumbs, nose and lips, and neck still throbbing with red-hot pain—rubbed near his prostrate gland, causing ripples of excitement to shoot through his body.
“Ahhh, yesssss,” he groaned as his hips began moving in wide circles. “Take it in ya’ mouf, Lady! In ya’ fuckin’ mouf!”
Deliberately, Paris grasped both of his testicles firmly in each of her hands and lowered her splayed lips toward his throbbing organ. Her teeth suddenly felt like vampire fangs, anxious for blood. As the stranger whimpered his way to an orgasm, Paris slid his huge dick partway into her mouth, and counting to three, simultaneously squeezed his nuts for all she was worth and bit down with all of her might.
A roar tore from the stranger’s throat. His powerful muscles locked and froze; trapping him between intense pleasure and intense pain. The switchblade fell from his grasp and clanked heavily to the floor behind the couch.
Balanced on her knees, Paris’s jaw trembled and her fists were clenched in a deadly vice grip. The stranger sucked in air and a low moan blew from him. Disgusted, Paris spit out his now deflated dick, which incredibly was at least seven inches long soft, and kept her grip on his balls.
“Oooh, motherfuckah!” she cried. “The tables have turned! Now, who-the-fuck-is-zoomin’ who?”
“Lady… please,” the stranger whined in a voice too tiny for such a big man. “Please, ya’ hurtin’ me, Lady.”
The stranger quivered and tried to lower his hands, but Paris moved quickly, squeezing even harder, digging her manicured nails deeply into his flesh, piercing his tough scrotal skin and releasing dark red blood.
Sharp grinding noises escaped the stranger’s throat.
“If you bring your arms down one fuckin’ inch,” Paris warned, “just one fuckin’ inch, everything inside these two little sacks of shit is gonna spill out on the floor!” She twisted hard again for emphasis, satisfied when the stranger yelped like a little bitch.
Paris rose to a crouched position before commanding him to stand. “Get up slow, motherfucker. Real slow and easy because if you so much as breathe too hard, I’ll tear your fucking nuts off and make your stink ass swallow them!”
Gagging and fighting back the urge to hurl, the stranger untangled his feet from his underwear and, with his arms outstretched to the heavens, he came to a shaky, hunch-backed stand.
“Ladeeee, please,” he squealed. “Ya’ hurtin’ me bad, Lady… please, I feel lak I’ma faint—”
“Shut the fuck up and move!” Paris backed toward the basement stairs, forcing the towering man to take one small step forward to each of her full strides backwards. They ascended the stairs in this manner, with Paris twisting his nuts and cursing all the way. At the top of the stairs she paused and touched her tongue to her teeth. At least two in the front felt loose, and fresh blood had begun to seep from her nose.
“You low-down motherfucker!” she spat.
“Please, I-I was jes gonna make you feel good,” the stranger stammered. His breath was constricted high in his chest and he’d broken into a cold sweat.
Make me feel good? Paris looked sharply at the stranger and sudden realization hit her like a brick. This fool was retarded!
“Asshole, if you think your donkey dick could ever make me feel good, not only are you a retard—your motherfuckin’ bread ain’t done!”
She yanked him over to the window by her desk.
“Lady, let me out,” he gasped. “Jes let me leave and I swear ’fore God, I’ll nevah do nuthin l-l-like dis again. D-d-dis-heah is my firs’ time. My onliest time. I ain’t nevah done nuttin’ so fool as dis befo’ an’ I swear on my dead mama, I’ll nevah do it again!”
“You’s a goddamned liar!” Paris crushed his scrotum again. “You’ve done this shit before because somebody done already poured lye down your drawers!”
“Aaaah! Aaagghhhhhh!” the stranger screamed. “Dammit, Lady! Please lemme go… jes’ let me leave outta heah alive!”
