“Get off of me,” she hissed. “I don’t think you’re in the position to be giving orders,” he responded before lowering his mouth to hers in a brutish kiss. He bit savagely at her full lower lip causing their blood to mingle in the mockery of a kiss. Her protests were muffled under his demanding lips. The hand on her breast worked the tender flesh with no care for pain or the bruises that would be left. He cruelly twisted the tender pink tip until she cried out a muted scream. She felt the cold steel of the gun fall between her thighs as his hand slid beneath her skirt. His fingers parted her pussy’s lips and none to gently explored the soft folds. She raised her head up and bit into his shoulder with the intention of drawing blood. Her teeth sank into the hard muscle of his shoulder. The hand that had been abusing her breast moved to her throat and pushed her down onto the pillow. His thumb pressed dangerously into the hollow of her throat and a familiar mocking threat appeared in. I kept an enema bag in the house for medical purposes, but was never really into using it for sex. But when Brad inserted the nozzle into my puckered hole, a shiver of excitement raced through my body. As the water made its journey into my intestines, my heart started beating faster, knowing that the passageway was being cleared for Brad's fist. And when I shit out the enema I felt relief, not because the pressure was released from my bowels, but because I knew it wouldn't be long before I felt Brad's fist corkscrewing its way deep into my chocolate channel. But there was still another step to take. Opening a large jar of Vaseline, I told Brad to scoop up a few globs and massage it thoroughly on his hand and up his arm. When the length of his arm and hand glistened from the petroleum jelly, I felt confident that the time was at hand, if you'll pardon the expression. I got down on all fours, propped up by a pillow, and spread my ass cheeks as wide apart as possible. Then Brad plunged.
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