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Two weeks had passed since Cirillo fucked Caroline in her sister Erica’s apartment.

The morning after, Caroline had woken sore all over. Her jaw from being face fucked, her pussy from his savage humping of her on the couch. The discomfort wasn’t just confined to the places where the brute had used his cock. Her arse was still red and sensitive from the repeated slaps he gave as he rode her, but it was her breasts that had received the worst punishment. The black-blue bruising was extensive, and it had taken days for them to fully heal. In the meantime, it had been challenging to hide the evidence of the abuse her tits had received.

On that first morning, however, for all her discomfort and misgivings, Caroline had to admit to a feeling of release. She had orgasmed twice, something she had never done since her earliest days with Bill, so many years ago now. However, this self-contentment was also combined with the firm determination to never place herself in such a dangerous situation again, handcuffed and used mercilessly as a human fuck doll by an evil, little gnome like Cirillo.

Caroline had been under the control of a cruel, ugly man with obvious anger issues. It was bad enough that he had used handcuffs to pin her arms behind her back, much against her will at the beginning, then proceeded to humiliate her by calling her names such as slut, whore and worse, while simultaneously punishing her by savagely slapping her breasts with what appeared to be real venom at the notion she was a “toffee-nosed cunt”. However, perhaps the most troubling thing about her mistreatment, was the way her own body had responded. Her nipples were engorged throughout, and her pussy soaked with arousal fluids. There was no denying she’d been intensely aroused while being debased and manhandled. The two orgasms had been fierce and exquisite, certainly better than anything she had ever experienced with her husband.

But, no, she reasoned to herself. As exciting and titillating as the experience had been, once was enough. She never wanted to see that ugly, vicious little toad or his big cock ever again.

Yet, curiously, Caroline found she could never bring herself to dispose of the small, grease-stained business card she’d found lying beside her torn and discarded panties as she had gotten dressed after the cuffs had been removed. The card must have fallen out of the brute’s pocket when he dropped his trousers to fuck her in the mouth. It contained his business address and contact numbers. In spite of herself and her earlier resolution, as the days passed, she felt a mounting urge to dial the number. It was easier to dismiss the notion at the beginning, but like a smoker who has just given up, the longing only grew until finally it became irresistible.

Her mother’s boyfriend, Ralph, may had tickled her slut gene when he fingered her to orgasm at the birthday party, but when Mr. Cirillo, the plumber, had fucked her in Erica’s apartment, he’d dialed her inner slut all the way up to eleven.

“Hello, is that Elegant Interiors?” she asked, having nervously input the number on her mobile phone and hovered her finger over the green dial icon for an age.

“Yes, Elegant Interiors, specialists in kitchen, bedroom and bathroom design,” replied a rather nasal sounding older woman on the other end. “How may we help you?”

Caroline took in a deep breath. This was it; she was really going through with it. “I’ve an en-suite bathroom I’m considering having revamped, given a brand-new modern look. I want someone to call to my house to discuss the possibilities and provide an estimate.”

“Certainly, Madam. What’s your address and telephone number?”

After providing the requested information, Caroline said, “Please send Mr. Cirillo. I believe he works for your firm.”

“Oh, I’m not sure that will be possible, Madam. It all rather depends on who is available on the day we schedule the visit.”

“It must be Mr. Cirillo,” responded Caroline, thinking quickly. “He performed some work at my sister’s apartment that I liked, and she strongly recommends him. I won’t deal with anyone else.”

“Well, if you insist, Madam. However, he won’t be available until the end of this week. He’s currently tied up with another job, you understand, but I’ll have him send you the appointment details by text. Now, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Ryan. Mrs. Caroline Ryan.” She could already feel her pussy moisten in nervous anticipation.

*******

Bill Ryan knew he was the jealous type; had been all his adult life. He also knew his insecurity stemmed from his belief that his wife, Caroline, was, and always had been, way out of his league. If he hadn’t had the blind, dumb luck to get her pregnant when she was eighteen, he was sure they’d never have married and at some point, she would have been whisked off her feet by a much more attractive male proposition and settled into a different life. Over the subsequent years his mind had never truly eased on the matter. If almanbahis anything, Caroline had only become more sexually desirable over time, especially when her breasts reached their full size of 32DD, and her hips rounded out to frame a perfect arse. She always had a gorgeous face, with deep blue eyes, a bright smile and shoulder length hair that was blonde with a hint of auburn.

And if all that wasn’t enough to give him a predisposition to jealousy, he also knew what a tiger she could be in bed. She loved having sex, or at least she did in the early years of their marriage.

With all these attractive attributes, men couldn’t help looking at Caroline, soaking in her beauty and her effortless, sexual allure. Bill could hardly blame them, really. In fact, he took pride in the way other men’s eyes devoured her. Often quietly indulging in a superior smugness in the knowledge that this gorgeous creature was married to him. However, every now and then, something happened that unshackled the little, green goblins of suspicion, and they would perch in the back of his mind and whisper dark thoughts.

This time it was that blasted birthday party held by her mother, Wendy, which had triggered his suspicions. Caroline could sometimes be a little careless when she had a few drinks and, on this occasion, Bill watched from a darkened corner of the marquee set up in the spacious back garden, as his wife danced with Wendy’s new boyfriend. A truckdriver in late middle-age with too many badly drawn tattoos and big, rough hands that roamed all over her arse as they danced. Bill was about to cut in when Wendy called him out of the marquee to help her carry the uncut portion of her birthday cake into the house. By the time he got back to his little observation post, Caroline and the tattooed man had disappeared. Eventually, he found her at the top of the stairs in the house. She seemed to be alone, but she had too many buttons undone on her blouse and a sheepish, guilty look in her eyes for that to be of any comfort to him.

As they travelled home that night, he didn’t say a word, but he was silently fuming. How on earth could she have found anything attractive about that truck driver. The man was old enough to be her father. Bill wanted to confront the dirty, little slut, but all he had was suspicions, no actual proof of her cheating, so he kept the words locked up in his head.

In the cold light of the next day, Bill wrote off the incident as nothing but a product of his overwrought imagination, but then a couple of weeks later, Caroline announced she was going into town to meet her sister, Erica, at a fashionable cocktail bar. That seemed a likely tale, if ever he heard one. Erica was to be married shortly and was probably looking to have one last wild fling before she was finally hitched. The more he thought of it, the more it seemed as if the two sisters planned to go out on the pull.

He followed Caroline and Erica to the cocktail bar. He had to. It was the only way to either confirm or disprove the suspicions that were driving him mad. Keeping his distance, he found a quiet unobtrusive corner to spy on them. It was torture. Throughout the night, his heart jumped into his mouth every time a man, sometimes more than one, approached the two women. He feared this would be the time his slut wife would accept the offer of a drink and some male company.

Thankfully, that never happened. So as not to be seen by the sisters at the end of the night, he had to leave before them, and was already in bed, feigning sleep, when his wife returned home.

Yet again, he spent the next day cursing himself for his unfounded jealousy. However, he quickly capitulated to his worst fears when Caroline insisted on going out again that very night. She claimed she was visiting Erica to help her make plans for the wedding. An obvious lie, wasn’t it? Out too nights in a row; she had to be up to something. Or did it have the ring of truth about it? He couldn’t decide, so he followed his wife again.

Bill experienced a profound sense of relief when he saw Caroline park her car outside Erica’s apartment building that evening. He let out a huge sigh as his anxiety melted away, then drove home immediately, feeling totally ashamed of himself for entertaining silent accusations of adultery against his beautiful wife, and berated himself for being such a faithless idiot. What a fool he was for distrusting her, the mother of his two children.

The little green goblins might have returned to their box, perhaps this time forever, if Wendy hadn’t called later, to speak to her granddaughters. During her rambling preamble, she let it slip that Erica was staying over at her house that night while her fiancé was out of town.

Well, he wondered fearfully, if that was the case, who on earth was Caroline visiting in Erica’s apartment?

His slut whore of a wife must be betraying him. He was certain of it now, and he was going to do whatever was necessary to garner evidence and almanbahis giriş confront the adulterous bitch.

*******

The text message Caroline received didn’t say much, but it was enough: Elegant Interiors: Callout scheduled for 1.00 p.m. The timing was perfect. Bill was at work and their daughters wouldn’t be home until after four o’clock. Plenty of time to entertain Mr. Cirillo.

The small, fat, ugly man was nothing if not punctual. Caroline was still upstairs in her bedroom getting ready when she heard the front door bell and looked out to see an old and battered, white van parked on the road outside her house. She quickly applied a trampy, red lipstick to her lips before running downstairs to open the door.

Cirillo was surprised to see her. The receptionist at Elegant Interiors must not have passed on her name, or if she did, he had not associated it with the woman he had fucked two weeks before at a different location. His eyes widened for a fleeting moment. Just enough for Caroline to witness his startlement before quickly resuming his more normal grumpy insolence. He looked at a clipboard in his hand and said, “I’m here to quote for a bathroom.”

Caroline smiled brightly and said, “Come in, Mr. Cirillo. It’s the en-suite for the master bedroom. Let me show you the way.”

Just as soon as he stepped into the hallway, he turned to her and said, “You’re that slut from the apartment the other week, aren’t you?” He made it sound like an accusation. As if it had been her who had force-fucked him on that occasion. While he stood there waiting for her answer, the little plumber with the pot belly took the opportunity to look Caroline up and down at his leisure. He seemed to be appraising her outfit with that almost contemptuous look that his resting face always adopted.

Minutes before he arrived, Caroline had rummaged through the wardrobe and closets in her daughter’s bedroom, until she’d found what she was looking for. An old school uniform, that no longer fitted Kylie. It consisted of a very short, red tartan skirt that sat tightly on her slim waist while hugging her round arse, and a white, figure-clinging, sleeveless vest. She originally intended putting on a white blouse, but she was glad she’d changed her mind because having left its buttons undone at the front, the vest displayed a great deal of her eye-catching cleavage. In addition, the clingy material was thin enough to allow her areolas and nipples to be almost visible, making it obvious she was not wearing a bra. Caroline completed the ensemble with knee-high, white socks and a pair of red high-heeled shoes and had put her blonde hair up into two high pigtails.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Cirillo.” Her voice broke up a little but only because his calling her a slut intensified the arousal, she already felt igniting her pussy.

“Show me the bathroom,” responded Cirillo gruffly.

Caroline turned, flicking her pigtails. As she walked ahead of the plumber, she maintained a leisurely pace and added an extra swing to her hips. She longed for his course calloused hands to grip her waist, and for him to fuck her there and then, but it was as if Cirillo sensed this from her behavior and refused to capitulate to her obvious advances. Here she was, alone in the house and dressed like a low-rent stripper for his benefit. Just where did this loathsome, little man get his arrogance, Caroline wondered. However, at some level she was aware that knowing he could have her at any moment of his choosing had placed the little brute in control of the situation and, for this reason, he seemed intent on continuing with this obvious charade.

As they mounted the stairs, she took care to bend over slightly, knowing it would raise the helm of her short skirt even more and let him have a look at the tight panties she was wearing. She had thought of putting on a simple pair of cotton briefs in keeping with the rest of her outfit, but at the last minute changed her mind and donned a cheap but sexy, red G-string hidden at the back of her underwear drawer, the thin gusset of which barely covered her shaved pussy.

When they arrived in the master bedroom, Cirillo, still unprepared to stop the pretense just yet, walked up to the door of the en-suite and pushed it open, but did not go inside. Instead, he gave the bathroom a cursory, dismissive glance, before turning back to Caroline. “What’s going on? Everything in here looks recently installed, almost brand new. Why are you wasting my time asking for a quotation?”

Caroline, who was standing at the end of the large, king-sized bed, did not reply. Instead, she bowed her head coquettishly and clasped her hands down at the level of her pussy, knowing her straightened arms would squeeze her breasts together and make them look even more pronounced in the clingy, white vest.

Cirillo began to walk towards her but stopped to look closely at a framed picture on the wall. It was a wedding photograph. Caroline, her pregnancy almanbahis yeni giriş not yet showing, was resplendent in her white, wedding dress, stood arm in arm with her new husband Bill as they looked into each other’s eyes while smiling.

“This the lucky man?” asked Cirillo sneeringly.

The answer seemed blatantly obvious, but Caroline confirmed anyway with a slight nod of her head.

“Out at work, is he? Has a job in the city? Must be good whatever it is, judging by the size of this place.”

Caroline remained silent.

“Sitting at his desk tip-tapping away on his computer, while his cheating slut of a wife brings strangers into their home and fucks them on their bed.”

Caroline was about to deny she’d ever done anything like this before, but there was no point arguing with this man and, besides, his humiliating tone was turning her on even more.

Cirillo suddenly lost interest in the picture and made his way towards her. Caroline tensed. She had wanted this, had gone to great lengths to make it happen, but now that the plumber was in her bedroom and coming towards her, with that fierce, angry stare in his eyes, her resolve suddenly waivered and she found herself backing away until her retreat was stopped by the wall.

He stood in front of her. So close, she smelt stale cigarettes from his breath. He looked into her eyes, his head tilted up slightly because he was somewhat shorter than she, even without her high heels. Unceremoniously, he took hold of her left breast and squeezed. As he did this, he pushed his knee forward, forcing both of hers apart, and raised it up until it pressed into the fleshy parts of her mound. Unthinkingly, she parted her legs to accommodate him.

Caroline always enjoyed her breasts being manhandled roughly, but when combined with the agitation to her clitoris, generated by his knee, the combined effect seemed to multiply itself. She couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

“You’re just a filthy, whore, aren’t you?” said Cirillo. “You’re just gagging for it, you toffee-nosed tart.” When Caroline didn’t give an immediate answer, he put his hand down the front of her vest and took hold of her bare breast, his course, stubby fingers digging into the flesh. “A filthy, little whore looking to be fucked by a real man while her husband’s away at work. Aren’t you?”

She knew from the time he’d fucked her in Erica’s apartment, this man would not let up with his foul-mouthed interrogation until she had given him the answer he was looking for, yet there was some part of her consciousness that wanted to resist. Wanted to delay his satisfaction at her capitulation. So, she continued to deny him an answer.

In response to this defiance, Cirillo took hold of her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pressed down on it extremely hard. Caroline’s only response was to wince, but when he twisted the nub sharply, she couldn’t prevent herself from crying out in pain.

“You want me to fuck you again, you dirty, cheating whore,” continued Cirillo with real contempt in his voice. “Well, speak up. Do you want me to fuck you, or don’t you?”

“Yes,” conceded Caroline. The contemptuous arrogance of the ugly, little man should have been off putting, but somehow it, coupled with his mistreatment of her body, and the name calling, had the opposite effect on her. The pain that had previously shot through her nipple now subsided into a warm, and not unpleasant, glowing sensation.

“Then you’d better ask nicely, whore.”

“Mr. Cirillo,” she began, “please fuck me.” Whatever trepidation she still felt, and there was more than a little, was completely swamped by her sense of animalistic arousal. She could barely wait to have the ugly, little brute’s big cock inside her cunt.

Pulling the bottom of her vest out from the waistline of her skirt, Cirillo pushed both hands under the garment and seized upon Caroline’s, big, firm breasts and began to maul them. At the same time, he pressed his lips upon hers and inserted his tongue into her open mouth. Welcoming the embrace, she placed her arms round his shoulders and pulled him towards her and was rewarded with the added sensation of his hardened cock grinding into her pussy.

Because of the pot-bellied, little man’s centre of gravity, Cirillo easily pinned Caroline against the wall, but she would happily have stayed in that position for a long time because after a couple of minutes of kissing, he took his mouth away from hers and moved his attention to her left breast. He sucked deeply on the areola before letting it go with a popping sound, then licked on her nipple for a while, before encompassing the wider area again with his mouth. Even when he dropped his hand to her soaking vulva and pushed the G-string aside to enable his forefinger to trace the moist gully along the slit of her swollen pussy lips, stopping tantalizingly short of her clitoris, he continued to work her breast with his mouth.

When he suddenly slapped her on the pussy, it was more of a pleasant surprise than anything else. That was because the force he used was minimal, a mere tapping of his open palm on the general area of her vagina, but it created an electrifying wave, an erotic pulse that radiated out from her clitoris

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