6. The Slap #2
Karl paused there, as though savoring her reaction to the fullest. His fingertip slowly rubbed along her folds, deliberately stirring through the hot wetness already gathered there. After only a few deliberate strokes, his hand was already slick and dripping with her juices.
Karl’s eyes lit up.
“Already this wet,” he whispered filthily.
Nadja bit hard into her lower lip.
Karl suddenly rammed two fingers deep into her pussy. Roughly and without warning.
But that exact ruthlessness sent a pleasurable spasm through her belly. He didn’t touch her gently the way Markus did. He handled her as though he already knew her pussy had only been waiting for him.
A violent shudder ran down Nadja’s spine.
She leaned heavily against the door. One hand clawed into the wooden edge behind her, her manicured nails scratching softly across the varnish.
Her thighs involuntarily opened a little wider—just enough to let his hand push deeper between her legs.
Karl gave a rough laugh.
He drove his fingers deep into her, then slowly pulled them back out, deliberately making the wet, squelching sound between them loud enough to hear.
A soft, choked whimper escaped Nadja. She choked it off almost immediately, but Karl had heard it clearly.
“Yes,” he whispered, aroused. “That feels fucking good, doesn’t it?”
Nadja didn’t take her eyes off him.
She simply stood there, her expensive blouse torn aside, her breast wet with his saliva through the delicate lace.
Her trousers were still on her hips, the waistband pulled crookedly down by Karl’s hand, the edge of her panties pushed aside so his old fingers could slide freely in and out of her wet pussy.
And yet her eyes remained ice-cold as they stared at him.
As though those betraying physical reactions had nothing to do with her at all.
Karl noticed that eerie detachment very clearly. For one confused moment, it made him hesitate. He slowly pulled his hand out of her.
Nadja remained motionless, breathing shallowly, her lower lip damp from her own teeth.
Karl lifted his glistening wet fingers between their faces.
He stared in fascination at her juices coating his skin, then slowly brought the fingers to his mouth.
He sucked them clean one by one. Provocatively slowly. Sucking loudly. All the while, he looked straight into her eyes with triumph.
Nadja didn’t blink once. There wasn’t the slightest spark of tenderness in her piercing stare.
Her body was still vibrating from the pleasure that had been abruptly cut off, and inside she trembled with rage at what he was doing.
But deep in her eyes there was something else too: an icy, unshakable determination.
Karl, however, had just sucked her taste from his own fingers and felt invincible.
“Your pussy tastes… wonderful,” he murmured, twisting one corner of his mouth.
With one hand, he fumbled clumsily and impatiently with his fly. His breathing grew thick and hurried with arousal.
“You must have missed my cock too, didn’t you?”
He grabbed the thick, red-veined shaft standing stiff and demanding against his old, wrinkled body.
Nadja silently looked down at him. Her cheeks were flushed, a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. For a moment, her gaze lingered dismissively on his lower body.
Karl pressed even closer, but Nadja’s waistband was still a barrier between them.
His face twisted as though that tiny obstacle were driving him insane with impatience. His rough hand grabbed the fabric of her trousers and yanked them, along with the thin panties beneath, roughly and forcefully downward.
The fabric caught on her soft hips.
Nadja lifted her pelvis away from the door by the tiniest amount. Only a minimal movement. But just enough for the fabric to slip over her curves and fall lower.
Karl immediately kept pulling without restraint.
Trousers and panties were dragged down together over her thighs until they caught halfway between her legs. The fabric stretched tightly around her upper thighs and prevented Nadja from spreading her legs completely.
Karl didn’t wait another second.
He forced himself roughly between her legs, one hand pinning her hip firmly against the door while the other gripped his stiff cock.
He rubbed the wet head along Nadja’s slick slit. Provocatively slow. Filthy. As though he wanted to force both of them to feel the boiling wetness coating his skin.
His cock slid upward, then back down, pushing teasingly between her wet folds before repeating the short, heavy strokes.
Nadja’s body trembled uncontrollably at every touch.
Karl felt exactly how her hips went rigid, how her breathing collapsed into shallow gasps, how her thighs clenched around the fabric binding them.
Her body still responded greedily to him.
Even though her beautiful face remained ice-cold. Even though her eyes stared at him as though she were looking at something unimaginably disgusting.
That was exactly what drove Karl completely insane. He lowered his head and panted hotly over her breast. The head of his cock found her wet entrance and pressed insistently against it.
Nadja’s warm flesh involuntarily opened slightly around the tip.
Karl groaned deep and rough.
He pushed only the smallest amount inside her, just the head, but blind lust had already distorted his old face.
He greedily prepared himself for the relieving sensation of forcing his way deep into her. For the feeling of Mrs. Keller’s soft pussy closing completely around his cock.
He gripped her hips even harder. Ready to finally drive into his wet paradise.
Smack!
Nadja’s hand shot up like a whip. The slap caught Karl full-force across the face.
Fast. Precise. Hard enough that the sharp crack tore through the silent, spotless apartment like the snap of a whip.
Karl staggered, immediately lost his balance, and crashed heavily onto the hard wooden floor.
He sat there dazed, his hard cock still sticking up ridiculously between his legs, his wrinkled face twisted in pain and sheer disbelief.
The arrogant hunger from moments before had vanished.
All that remained was a pathetic, confused helplessness, as though he had absolutely no idea what had just happened.
Nadja stood tall in front of him.
Her blouse was torn, her breast still wet with his saliva, her hair loosened into disorder, her skin deeply flushed from the arousal still pumping through her veins.
But her face was ice-cold and untouchable.
Under Karl’s stunned, whipped-dog stare, Nadja slowly pulled her trousers and panties back up, covering her wet pussy directly in front of him.
The soft hands that had willingly stroked his cock yesterday now calmly fastened her bra, pulled the blouse properly over her breast, and smoothed the collar.
Each of those quiet, deliberate movements humiliated Karl even more, drove him deeper into rage because his lust-addled mind couldn’t understand what any of it was supposed to mean.
“This stops now,” she said in a perfectly even, commanding voice.
Karl touched his burning, swollen cheek with trembling fingers. He stared up at her as though he hadn’t understood.
“Stops? What the hell are you talking about?”