It was just a few months after my 15th birthday when we married; my husband was older than me and had reached the ripe old age of 31. I agreed to marry him to get away from home and out on my own. I just didn’t realize the mistake I was making at the time.
Joe had 4 brothers and 2 sisters. The girls did not get along and rarely had anything to do with each other. On the other hand, the boys often got together and when they did the redneck really flowed out. They were the most obnoxious vulgar people I had ever met.
After almost a year of marriage, my husband’s dad moved in with us. He was widowed and over 72 and on social security. He was really an odd type, even to look at. He always wore overalls and a little small derby type hat. Then add his thick horn rim glass with oversize lenses which all but covered most of his face, he cast a weird image.
Now my husband was mean. He said ‘Keep’em well fucked and you won’t have trouble out of a woman’. He also had a sadistic side to him and every other night like clockwork he would show it. Bedtime came the first thing he would do was pull my panties down and go after it. He didn’t care about foreplay or anything else, he just wanted to get it in and get off and most of the time he did too.
There was no need to say no, he did not know the word. Joe was well endowed and he thought what he had every woman wanted. He was almost a thick as a coke can and about 10 inches in length. He would grip and shake it then aim it at me saying ‘It’s coming for you babe!’
He would snake my panties off then top me like a bull. He would push the head of it down and literally force it in. I would hold my breath and bare it despite the pain. I did not want him to think I was enjoying what he was doing; I was not. Then after he would cum, I would act as though I was having a climax so he would not question me about enjoying sex.
Don’t get me wrong. I love sex and I like it tender and easy. When he shot his load per se, he would take his fingernails, dig them deep into my back, and claw me. My back was always a pile of serious scratches. Sometimes during the sex, he would moan and whisper trashy things and call me a fucking slut and bitch.
The old man stood right at 6’ 4” and was thin as a rail. He rather looked like that banjo picker on television named string bean. One weekend all Joe’s brothers came. They brought the wives also and those girls were just about as vulgar as their husbands were. Now a woman’s mouth can be quite filthy. Still with their limited lingo of cock and balls, they added quite a mixture to the conversation.
While I cooked, everyone sat around the kitchen table. Somehow, the conversation got to sex. Then I heard the dad brought into the conversation. He never said a word, just sat there staring at the floor, with a beer in hand. He looked so humiliated when one of the girls popped off about him not getting ‘pussy’, that if he could he was too old to handle it anymore.
Joe laughed as he said ‘Pop hasn’t had any pussy since pussy had him!’ That brought a riotous roar from everybody. I pretended to be too busy to join in and moved about the kitchen getting things ready for the meal. I felt sorry for him; the old man always was the topic of their laughter and his humiliation seemed to be a game they played.
There were times I could not help but notice under his overalls the image of his equipment. That was often and I admit I stole more than one look. Finally, one day the old man saw me looking. I was so embarrassed and quickly looked away. After several times of his sons along with their wives taunting the old man about not getting pussy or even being able to I seriously thought of fucking the old man. As quickly as the thought entered my mind, I pushed it out. Still, there were a number of times I really thought about giving him some.
One day after my husband left for work, I finished the morning dishes while the old man had taken a shower. After awhile, all was quiet and not thinking I started to go to the bathroom. I had forgotten he had been in there and when I open the door, there he was. He had one foot in his overalls and the rest of him was nude.
His penis just hung there, not straight down but sort of protruding out and hanging. I gasped and shut the door while apologizing. He was every bit as large as my husband’s so I guess I now knew where Joe had inherited his manhood. When he finally dressed and came out of the bathroom the impression of his semi-erect penis was clearly visible beneath his denim overalls. I kept stealing glances at it every chance I got, but acted as if I hadn’t noticed it.
The bathroom was off the side of the hall to the main bedroom To the left was a linen closet with a full length mirror. That house was not functional at all and whoever designed it I guess had built it as a one bedroom, then later added a room off the kitchen as another bedroom.
You entered the living room and straight in front of you was the kitchen with a wall divided that separated the two rooms. That divider was only about 4 foot tall with white posts situated equally several places along it extending to the ceiling. The kitchen was almost twice as big as the living room.
There at the entrance to the kitchen and to the left was the hallway to our bedroom and the bathroom. Nothing was quite spectacular about our bedroom except for the pain inflicted there.
Our dresser was against the wall and in the corner. From the edge of the bed, you could look into the mirror and see the front door behind the recliner. I moved one edge out a little further so more of the bedroom was visible.
I used to shower and deliberately give the old man brief glances of my body. I would like drop a towel accidentally coming out of the bathroom after bathing and pretend to be embarrassed I was so clumsy.
Several times after showering would come out of the bathroom with only a towel covering my front and walk quickly down the hall to our room. There, I stood nude in the bedroom and dressed just inside the edge of the mirror so he could get a glimpse, and several times I caught him looking and the look on his face could not hide the lust in his eye.
From the corner of my eye, I could see him watching me from the other room. I brushed my wet hair before I dressed then took the hairbrush and brushed that thick triangular patch of pubic hair paying close attention to making it curl with my fingers. Then I would slip into my bikini panties and dress for the day. I like to think I gave him quite a show.
One morning I went to work with Joe. He ran a garage. While I was in the office, he came in to call the parts house. After he got off the phone, he told me to go in town and pick up the part he just ordered. He told me what it was called and I left.
When I got back, I carried the box in, unopened and gave it to him. When he opened it, he flew into a rage, slapped me, called me a ‘fucking bitch’ then added ‘you can’t do a fucking thing right…get your ass to the house!’
I was shocked. The slap stunned me but the name-calling I was already use to. However, he made no qualms about his name-calling no matter who was around. He seemed to regale in it. About a month before his brother came over to carry me to town. It was on that trip his brother told me Joe was screwing some girl on the other side of town. I was pissed so before we got home, his brother and I fucked behind the spillway at the lake. His brother was well endowed too, but not nearly as big and it didn’t hurt at all.
I took the car and drove home, tears flowing and still seething in anger I walked in. His dad was sitting in the recliner. When I slammed the door, he glanced back, saw the tears, got up and asked what happened. I told him.
The old man said ‘Turn off the television and put the radio on. Music has a way of soothing you.’ He was right. I always found relief in the radio. It always seemed to raise my spirits and ease my troubles, especially if they were playing some good records.
After about 10 minutes, a song came on and it really made me feel like dancing. However, there was no one to dance with. The old man couldn’t rock and roll so I danced by myself. I just let the music take me away. Finally, one song came on. It was slow, really slow and the old man got up and said ‘I think I can do that one.’
So I eased into him and he pulled me tight against his chest. We started off slow then in a bit a little more movement and I felt a leg go between mine. In a bit I felt his leg against my pubis while we swayed. I began to get a warm funny feeling between my legs.
Then I felt something unfamiliar, something hard against my hip. When I moved I felt it again. I thought ‘he has a hard-on’. Instead of stopping the dance and pulling away I teased him each time it touched me by rubbing my pubis against his leg, while my panties became saturated, a desire to feel consumed by what was touching my hip and my body was responding and my groin ached and yearned to be filled.
The song ended moments later. Had it lasted just a few more seconds I would have cummed. My heart beat rapidly, along with my breath. The old man stepped back and I could see the legging of his overalls had an immense protrusion pushing out under it. There was absolutely no mistake in what it was. The old man reached out, took my hand and said ‘Come on.’ I knew exactly what he was fixing to do.
I followed him out of the living room, through the kitchen and into the back bedroom. A dresser and mirror was on the other side of the bed. I just stood there not moving, not doing anything just watching him as he leaned forward and unbuttoned his fly. Then his hand disappeared into it and with a slight twist of his hips, he brought out his penis.
I gasped at the sight of it then he said ‘We’re going to have to hurry.’ He reached for my head and pulled my face down and toward it. My lips parted as the massive head of his penis came closer and into my mouth. I had trouble getting just the head of it in and could only take about three inches yet my tongue darted around and probed it as I bobbed up and down on it.
Finally he pulled me up and off his penis. “gotta get this done’ he said. He was right, we would have to hurry. I unfastened my slacks and pushed them along with my panties all the way to the floor. Then I stepped out of one leg as I turned to lay back of the bed.
Placing my hands on the edge mattress, I scooted further upon it. He held his penis in the middle as he eased between my legs. I brought them up as I opened my thighs, my eyes still fixated on his erection.
He placed his left hand on my knee and pushed it to the side as I watched him push the head of his cock down toward my pubic hair. I felt its hot tip as it touched my click and eased it farther down. With several motions, he swirled it from my vagina to my clit and back down. He must have done this several times before finally stopping at my vagina. I was soaked and It made me ache with desire.
I tensed up as I felt pressure against it, fully expecting pain like I always did with Joe. Instead, he swirled the head of his cock against my vagina with light pressure. There was just a small slight delicious discomfort as he slipped into me. To my shock or disbelief he continued on until I was fully impaled. I just groaned from the delightful pleasure of being so full. I had never been able to take all of Joe’s but here he was all the way in. It felt so glorious to be so full.
The old man then hooked his arms beneath my knees, grasped my hips and tugged me slightly closer to the edge of the bed. Then he began a short hard thrust. He didn’t pull out any, just pushed his pubic bone harder again my bottom. He waited a few seconds and did it again then repeated it over and over.
I felt it with the first thrust; that something that tells you something good is on its way. After about a dozen or so thrust, I wanted more and anytime, any moment I was going to cum. I did and with the intensity I had never known. I stiffened under him and bit my tongue to keep from screaming. My vagina contracted hard and I could feel every inch of what he put in me, every muscle, every wrinkle as he continued with his short hard thrust.
Finally he stopped and for a moment thought he had cummed. But he hadn’t. He slipped out of me, and pulled me from the bed and said ‘turn around and lay down.’ I did exactly as he said and laid face down on the edge of the bed, my feet on the floor.
He moved behind me and I watched him in the dresser mirror lower himself, felt his hard erection move between my legs and when he raised up, he slipped right back in. I was fully impaled by this wonderful tool he so expertly used. He griped my hips and asked ‘you ready?’
‘Yes’ I answered. He grasped my hips and began a rhythm but this time he extracted almost all the way out before slamming it back in. He increased the speed, going hard until eventually my feet were barely touched the floor. Once again I had a series of orgasms, one right after the other and having to bite my tongue to remain quiet. Several times he hit my cervix and this brought brief pain but only momentarily as the pleasure I was having far exceed it. I glanced several times at the mirror only to see him watching himself fuck me.
Finally he stopped and extracted himself. I was soaked and wet all the way down to both my knees. He turned me over again. I scooted up on the edge of the mattress as he moved back between my thighs. His erection glistened from my juices and I watched it disappear once more beneath my pubic hair and slip easily back in me.
Then he started again but this time it wasn’t slow. Long hard fast strokes followed put me back into another orgasm. He pounded into me while the bed rocked beneath us. Then suddenly I felt him go rigid right in the middle of another of my climaxes. His penis seemed to jump inside me then I felt series after series of hard hot spurt inside me. I knew he had cummed. I rolled and twisted my hips on him, locked my legs behind him and with my legs pulled myself onto him as he groaned and gripped me harder. Believe this or not, I wasn’t trying to give him a memorable fuck, I was trying to keep that feeling going I was having.
When he finally finished he stayed in me for a minute or so, I felt that huge monster in me slowly grow smaller then he moved away. I raised up from the mattress, already trying to get my leg back in my panties and slacks. His penis hung away from his body and drops of cum continued to drip from its tip onto the floor. He gripped it in the middle and after two or three times flips of it, he eased it back into his overalls.
I followed him out of the room and he proceeded to his recliner. I slipped into the bathroom to clean myself up. I hadn’t been on the toilet long and semen still dripped from my vagina when my husband walked in the front door. I didn’t rush to clean up or hide anything. I just thought you sure could learn something from your daddy.
I fully intended to fuck the old man again at our first opportunity. Sadly it never materialized as I left my husband about two weeks later.