"Fuck!" Jess cried. She regretted telling him 'fast and hard.' Trying to be a smart ass. She hadn't meant this rough. Face down, on her knees, clutching a handful of sheet, her other hand braced against the headboard to keep her head from banging it again, she knew now it was a mistake. What was she thinking, challenging this guy with those reptile eyes? She hoped he was a fast cummer.

She met him a week ago. A skinny guy with gray eyes and curly hair as black as his leather jacket who came into the bar where she worked near the end of her shift and had one drink, Stoli up. He left six dollars and coins, pointed to it, saying, "That's for you, baby. Keep it. See you next time."

It had been a slow night so she was glad to get the tip, but something in the way he said it that made her curious. Curious about the gray eyes, too. 'Who has gray eyes?' she had asked herself, as she put the money into the tip jar she kept by the cash register.

Now she knew. The guy with his hand on her back, holding her down, and his big cock in her, slamming it into her cooch so hard her ass cheeks quivered when it bottomed out. That's who. She looked over her shoulder, trying to see if the eyes were open. They gazed back at her calm, narrow slits under the half-closed lids, cold gray and snaky.

He slowed his thrusting and she tried to relax. He was breathing hard. Maybe he was tired. She thought she might get off if he kept this pace. Slower would be better, she was dry from the way it started, not wet enough, and his cock speared into her before she was ready, fast as a cobra’s tongue. But this speed could work. She began grunting, the sound of her voice sinking into the bed, as the tingling inside suggested it could happen.

"You enjoying it Jessica? Was that hard enough for you?" he said, responding to her grunts.

"Uh-huh." She nodded, feeling the friction of the sheet on her hot cheek. It came out like a whimper. She hated the way he said her name. He made it sound like a dirty word. Twice she had told him, "Call me ‘Jess’ or ‘Jessie’.”

"I'm only catching my breath," he said. "We're just getting started."

She tensed, bracing herself against what she knew was coming. Big mistake, she knew now, but there was no more she could do other than try to make the best of it. She spit on her fingers and sent them down to urge her swollen clit to make her come before he started pounding her again.
 
It was her own fault. She wanted desperately to get laid. She hadn't had sex in months. One of those girls with 'a few extra pounds,' Jess was twenty-six and divorced. Weighed a hundred and twenty in her wedding gown, vowing to her now ex-husband to have and hold forever. The marital bliss that girls are taught to expect never happened. The vows lasted thirteen months before she walked away and didn't look back. She had begun gaining the weight two months into the marriage and kept adding pounds long after the divorce was final. Where were the chubby chasers when you needed them?

Snake Eyes had come in earlier tonight as her shift ended. She agreed to sit at the bar and have a drink. The room was crowded and noisy and he said, "Want to get out of here? Come to my place and mess around?"

If she hadn't been so damn horny she would have refused, waiting until she knew him.

Two margaritas and her needy cooch made her consider it, though, and finally she agreed. No good advice ever comes from a hungering pussy. And people say only men think with their genitals.
 
Jess's hand whipped up a lather in her cooch as it oscillated fast and furiously on her clit. She felt the seed of an orgasm sprout and begin to grow. The desperate little sounds in her throat and the frantic rubbing alerted him.

"Uh-oh, big girl coming," he said. "Come on, Jessica, make it come. Make it come."

He pulled back, gave her three or four quick shallow probes with the end of his cock, then plunged it into her so deep she felt a tinge of sharp pain. The tension she felt dreading a renewed assault on her pussy was keeping her from coming. He did it again, three quick thrusts followed by one sunk to her depths. Playing with her. She slid her hand between the mattress and her breast and pinched the nipple.

He stopped then and Jess missed the movement in her cunt. She felt her arm and hand cramping and forced herself to move faster, to press harder. He started pounding her again and she yelped like a hurt puppy. But it jolted her to the peak. Her cooch clenched several times and long, sobbing moans escaped her with each spasm. The intensity of the orgasm shocked her.

"You . . . got it . . . baby . . . ," he croaked between hissing breaths. "I'm . . . almost . . . there."

He was giving it to her slow and easy now, just letting his rigid cock slip lazily in and out.

Jess sighed as the tension drained out of her. Her pussy was slack and wet and the slow thrusts felt good; she knew if he kept it going like that she would come again. She felt his cock thicken before he came. He groaned. She felt it throb and believed she felt the heat of his wad despite the condom. She had a brief flash of panic thinking the rubber might be broken before she stopped caring and convulsed in the second one, a shuddering climax so strong it made her screech like an owl and see stars with her eyes wide open. She held her breath so long her chest hurt. Then it was over and she collapsed on the bed.

Jess lay on her side, knees drawn up, resting her head on her hands folded under her cheek, listening to him speak. He was behind her, saying more then he ever had before then, the words coming easily, softly, flowing at the speed of the last thrusts that were the best thing that happened all night.

She wasn’t listening. She was gathering her thoughts. No affection, no foreplay, not that she really needed it. He had simply used her, and—surprise!—she discovered she liked it.

As she got dressed he said, "You going?” He looked up, mocking her with those pale gray slits. Maybe he was more perceptive than she thought.

“Got what you needed, huh? It oughta hold you for a while. Call me next time you wanna to do it again.”

"Sure," she said at the door, looking back at him laying there. Smug fuck didn’t even get up.

But on the way to her car she thought about it.

"Maybe, I will," she said out loud.