Now the searing head of his dick brushed her eager cuntlips and she gasped. Then five inches slid into her waiting pussy from behind, a boiling mass of sex-heat that sent jolts of passion tearing through her nerves with shattering impact. Crying, Carol twisted her head around and began biting Jack on the lips, rubbing and squirming her slippery as against his groin each time he slammed his blazing rod deep inside her.

For the first time in her dreary life, Carol Shaw had discovered sex and she was magically transformed, inside and out. At twenty-nine, shy, overweight, blue-eyed and awkward Carol had secretly resigned herself to a lifetime of dull monotony. She despaired of ever getting married – or for that matter of ever losing her virginity – until she'd met Jack a few days ago. Strangely, there was nothing really wrong with Carol's looks, aside from a few extra pounds. It was all on her tits and ass and thighs, and could be taken off easily. Her thick glasses and those shapeless dresses also contributed to her homeliness.

It had all begun like a storybook romance, like one of those silly novels Carol read on her lunch hour at work while the other girls looked at her with pity and scorn. They called her the Cornfed Wallflower behind her back, but Carol was used to it. Then a handsome stranger had spilled his coffee on her dress at a cafe while she was on her lunch hour, and alter he profusely apologized he insisted on taking her to dinner. Nervous and clumsy around men, Carol had been almost hysterical at first, but she found herself being talked into it. And the rest was like a dream – her first magnificent, thrilling and unforgettable fuck, the endless climaxes, his hard, massive prick and charming smile, his easy laugh and smooth talk. And then, to the country girl's utter amazement, his proposal of marriage.

From the first day she could remember, Carol's stern parents had been warning her about the hellfire and damnation of sex, the Wages of Filth, as they put it.