"Oh, you're hurting, you're hurting," she moaned, "hurry up."
"As you say, ma'am," Jules grinned savagely, then he grunted and with one smooth stroke shoved it all the way in.
"Aaaaaaggghhhhh," she screamed, and the sound of her agony filled the little house. She was being split apart – torn asunder like a recalcitrant slave put between two draft horses. Her fingernails dug against his hairy chest and her legs splayed out wide in an effort to alleviate the pain. But it was no use. The white inexorable drill moved deeper into her defensively contracting belly. "No… stop! You're killing me…" And then Jeannette felt his hugely distended penis slam against her cervix and his testicles slap hard against her defenselessly upturned rectum. He was all the way into her; deeper by at least three inches than her husband had ever been. Her body was a sheet of red agonized flame – a flame that surged and swept upward like a fire storm with each pulsating beat of her tortured young vagina. Her breath was coming so hoarsely that she actually had to force words from her painfully contorted lips.
"Don't move it… Please." And then the tears began flowing… tears of pain and shame.
Jules knew he had let his emotions get the better of him. That one savage plunge into her helpless body was something he had not planned to do. He had wanted to take it easy – by stages – and bring her to a mewling chant of desire where she would beg… beg… beg!! He was afraid he might have injured her; he knew he had hurt her. She was so terribly tight, he hadn't realized she would be so tight!