"Nooo! Lester! Not this way… Pleaseeee!" She screamed as his mouth on her breasts suddenly felt like it was sucking her inside out, his teeth biting cruelly at the quiveringly aroused nipples, leaving tiny indentations as a symbol of his enraged lust. Bette Jean was on her back with Lester on top, pinning her helplessly beneath his strong body. She couldn't even twist out from under him as he locked one knee between her whitely straining thighs. Lester paid no attention, continuing his mauling as though he didn't hear her protests. Her dreams had gone long ago but this was the very last time, she vowed.
Above the roar of blood in his ears, Lester could hear her frightened cries of protest, but his anger was unbounded, his pride refusing to give heed to anything but complete and total possession of her still young and gloriously sexual body. The liquor in him hadn't dampened his emotions in the least, but inflamed him to a screaming rage of blind lust! He wasn't himself anymore! He was a wild man, hungry for the loins that had been denied him too long, that were rightfully his! Feeling the silky smoothness of her resiliently curling pubic hair, Lester slipped his middle finger down into the softly quivering flesh of her pussy, searching desperately for the tightly clenched opening he had to have! Oh Jesus, yes!
A helpless confusion engulfed her recoiling consciousness as she felt her husband groping for her naked vagina.