19. The Line
The Line
Karl grabbed her.
His thin hands, veined blue beneath the skin, closed mercilessly around Nadja’s hips and roughly turned her onto the white sheet. The movement was raw and decisive.
Now he was on top.
Karl planted both hands beside her shoulders. His gray-haired chest rose and fell frantically, his breathing heavy and rasping inside his old rib cage. His body was old, bony, miserably exhausted.
But his lower body had no intention of going soft. His rock-hard cock was still buried deep and firm inside her.
Karl began thrusting again. Slowly. Relentlessly even.
She had only just come hard. The overstimulated feeling should have begun to fade. Karl refused to let it.
Nadja turned her face aside in shame. She wanted to pretend she no longer cared. That he was nothing more than a cheap tool stubbornly finishing the job.
But every deep, wet thrust made the tight walls of her pussy twitch around him with pleasure. His thick cock felt like a fist sliding over every sensitive piece of flesh inside her, massaging it, stretching it. Uncomfortable. Painful. And perversely soothing.
Karl leaned down and stared directly into her face.
Nadja’s lips were pressed tightly together, her eyes closed, but her lashes trembled treacherously.
Her throat tightened every fucking time he drove a little deeper into her.
Her hands seemed to rest loosely on the sheet, yet every so often her fingers clawed into the fabric, then stretched back out—as though she had to keep reminding herself not to grab him without restraint.
Karl understood. And an old man like Karl had more than enough patience.
Several minutes passed with agonizing slowness while rain battered dully against the window outside. Nadja’s breathing became increasingly uneven.
One bare thigh slid unconsciously up along Karl’s hip. Not tightly. Not like an obvious invitation. Only a tiny instinctive movement. But it was more than enough to make the corner of Karl’s mouth rise into a filthy grin.
He thrust deeper.
Nadja sucked in air sharply through her teeth, her pelvis instinctively lifting to meet him before she could stop herself.
Karl saw it. And at the exact moment the new boiling wave began to rise beneath her skin, he abruptly and brutally pulled out.
The sudden emptiness between Nadja’s legs hit her like an ice-cold slap. Her eyes flew open.
For a fraction of a second, she genuinely thought he was obeying her earlier instruction. That he was about to come and remembered he had promised to pull out before he did.
Then she saw the sadistic look in Karl’s eyes. He was panting, his deep-red, gleaming cock in his own hand, his dull eyes obscenely filthy and completely alert.
“Look at your horny pussy,” Karl panted. Sweat dripped from his forehead directly onto her neck. “Dark red. Swollen as hell. You’re dripping all over your husband’s clean white sheet.”
Nadja ground her teeth angrily. “Shut your filthy mouth.”
Karl only laughed quietly in his throat. He bent down and provocatively spread the trembling wet lips of her pussy with two rough fingers.
“Look closely.”
Nadja instinctively tried to reach down and cover herself in shame.
Karl seized her wrist and pinned it hard against the mattress.
His grip wasn’t even especially strong. If she had truly wanted to, Nadja could have pulled free without difficulty.
But in that sick moment, she simply couldn’t.
That perverse helplessness sat inside her like a crushing weight. Her fingers only clawed helplessly into the sheet, pulling the white fabric into a crooked fold.
Karl’s free hand slid deep between her legs. His rough, callused palm stroked agonizingly slowly over her soaking-wet slit, as though soothing an open wound he had created himself.
Nadja shuddered all over. Her breath escaped in a moan.
A light, slapping blow landed directly against the edge of her wet pussy.
Not especially painful. Only hot and humiliating enough to make her entire lower body jerk upward reflexively.
Karl stared closely at Nadja’s face, studying her. She bit her lower lip until it bled, her eyes filled with bottomless shame. She remained completely silent.
Karl leaned threateningly lower.
The second slap was noticeably harder. The sharp smack cut sharply and obscenely through the quiet bedroom.
Nadja hissed in pain, her back arching off the mattress. But instead of recoiling, her wet pelvis lifted a fucking inch toward him, bringing the burning flesh pleadingly closer to his hand.
Karl’s mouth twisted into a grimace.
He was pushing seventy. He knew this kind of refined, buttoned-up whore all too well. “Sometimes they simply need a little pain to turn properly pliant and wet.”
He didn’t strike her again right away. His large hand opened and soothingly stroked the deep-red burning spot, over her extremely swollen clit, down to the dripping slit, then back again.
The relief came far too quickly, turning the burning slap into a hot, unbearable itch that crawled directly into Nadja’s lower belly. She moaned painfully through clenched teeth.
Karl lowered his head closer. His voice became a hoarse, rough growl. “Looks like this spoiled little pussy likes being punished, doesn’t it?”
Nadja shook her head. But her treacherous body didn’t agree. Thick wetness kept flowing every time his hand passed over her. A slick trail was already running toward the cleft of her ass.
Karl wiped it up with his index finger, held it in front of her face, and studied it triumphantly as though he had just found final proof of her corruption.
“This isn’t a respectable wife’s cunt, Nadja.”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Karl rubbed hard and mercilessly over her clit. Nadja jerked violently.
“This is a fucking depraved slut, isn’t it?”
Before she could answer— another hard slap. And immediately afterward his hand soothed her again, stroking, rubbing obscenely around the hypersensitive spot he had just struck.
The sick mixture of pain and unbelievable pleasure was literally driving Nadja insane.
“What kind of cunt are you?” Karl asked again. Louder. More commanding.
Nadja turned her face away, breathing shallowly and quickly, her face flushed dark red all the way to her ears. Her mouth opened, trembling. “A… filthy cunt…”
The humiliating words nearly died in her throat.
“That’s right,” Karl whispered filthily against her skin. “Good girl.”
He bent down and kissed her wet inner thigh.
Then his hand slid deep into her slit, and two thick fingers slowly but relentlessly pushed inside her. His fingers curled insistently upward, striking directly against her G-spot while his stinking mouth closed over her swollen clit.
He sucked hard only once— just enough to make Nadja’s eyes immediately fill with tears.
Nadja wanted to curse him. Only a high, whimpering moan came from her throat.
Karl lifted his smacking mouth from her again. His thick fingers continued curling slowly inside her, refusing to let her go but also refusing to give her release.
“Who does it belong to?”
Nadja’s eyes flew open. “What?”
“This wet, depraved pussy.”
Karl forced another finger into her. Three now.
“Who does it belong to?”
Nadja froze. She felt every rough, bony joint stretching her painfully. It wasn’t his cock, but the forced spreading still stole her breath.
Karl didn’t thrust brutally or pointlessly. He rotated his thick wrist extremely slowly, making her feel every piece of soft flesh inside her that had to yield to his pressure.
“No…”
Karl slapped the edge of her pussy again. The sound was dry, filthy, perversely loud in the clean bedroom.
Then he hooked his fingers even deeper.
Nadja cried out sharply, her back arching off the mattress in a spasm.
“Exactly,” Karl panted. “You horny little breeding sow.”
Nadja’s face burned. “Don’t call me that…” But her hips lifted pleadingly toward him.
Karl looked down at his own hand disappearing deep between her legs. Three fingers were soaking wet and gleaming, sliding in and out with wet smacking sounds, working deep inside the slit that was now greedily opening around them on its own.
Nadja’s body resisted and sucked them deeper at the same time. Every movement produced an obscene wet sound that made Karl’s throat vibrate.
“Look closely,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “Your pussy’s almost swallowing half my hand already.”
“Please…”
“Please what?”
Nadja ground her teeth and gave no answer.
Karl introduced the fourth finger extremely slowly. Not too roughly. He pressed only millimeter by millimeter, slightly rotating his thick wrist and waiting until her tight body yielded on its own.
Nadja’s eyes flew wide. Her mouth opened as she greedily sucked air into her lungs. A strangled, almost screaming moan tore from her throat—profoundly ashamed and intensely pleasurable at once as his broad hand stretched her to an entirely new threshold of pain.
“I…” She panted wildly. “I’m dying…”
Karl didn’t stop. He pressed the rough fingers tightly together and pushed his broad palm even closer against her.
His thick thumb slid over the deep-red, stretched edge, found its path unerringly, and began forcing itself inward along with the other fingers.
Nadja convulsed on the mattress.
“Karl… slowly…” She shook her head in panic, eyes wide, breath tearing into pieces. “My pussy’s going to tear…”
“Nothing’s tearing,” Karl panted filthily. “It wants it exactly like this.”
He kept pressing. Agonizingly slowly. Millimeter by millimeter.
Nadja’s body tightened to its absolute limit. She could have kicked him off the bed without difficulty. But her glassy gaze remained fixed on his working hand, on the way it slowly but surely disappeared into her pussy.
Her breasts shook violently with every chaotic breath. Her toes clawed into the white sheet. Both hands gripped the mattress as though her entire fucking body would break apart the moment she let go.
Karl leaned lower, his eyes dull and bloodshot. “It can swallow my whole fucking hand,” he murmured fanatically. “This horny pussy can swallow anything.”
Nadja let out a high, sobbing moan.