Pretty When She Cries by Sarah Kate Page A

pleasure, but it seemed to satisfy him and he licked harder.
    “Stop! Stop! I’m coming!” she gasped, becoming sorely sensitive. He stopped and gave her one final lick. She clamped her knees around his head. He kept his mouth pressed on her wet, swollen flesh. She could feel his hot breath panting. He slowly dislodged himself and loomed over her, his hands either side her body. She was panting looking up at him.
    “Did you really come?” he asked in a shivery voice. He would just keep torturing her if she said no. She swallowed tensely and nodded. He kept staring at her as if trying to bore into her brain. She tried to hold his gaze but he made her so uncomfortable, she blinked and looked away for a second.
    “You’re fucking lying,” he said in a dead voice.
    “I did,” she said, frightened of the way he was looking at her.
    There was silence.
    “I did,” she whispered, looking at him. He clutched her throat so suddenly, she bit her tongue. He dug his fingers in, barely refraining from choking her. “Please!” she said, gasping. “Please! Don’t hurt me.”
    “You like it, Nicole, you like being fucked. You like the way I fuck you? Answer me!”
    She was crying, but answered, “Yes! I like it! I like the way you fuck me!”
    He slapped her, then again, and again, and again, and she brought her arms over her face.
    “You lying slut! I know you hate me! Don’t you ever lie to me, you prissy little cunt!” He smothered her mouth with his hand until her crying ceased. He looked heavily at her, while she pushed slightly up and down in keen distress.
    “My father always told me if he ever saw me hit a woman he would beat the fuck out of me. He said you have to respect the fact that a woman is weaker, more fragile. Only thing is, I’ve seen you bitches deserve it sometimes.
    “I caught my dad beating on my mom one night. I bust his balls so bad, he was coughing blood. I found out afterwards that she had been playin’ up on him behind his back for years. She also got drunk plenty of times and had a go at him. Now what’s he suppose to do? Sit there and take it? You get pushed too far by a woman. You see? It works both ways. You can’t fall back on being helpless. You provoke a man and he’ll make sure you don’t do it again. He’s pushed—he’s pushed to do what he knows he shouldn’t do.
    “I can’t tolerate deceit, Nicole. You lie to me, you get slapped. Hey?” He gave her face a couple of taps. “You killed my hard on.”
    She kept her face turned away, sniffing and catching her breath.
    “You hate this, don’t you?” he said. “Don’t you lie to me.” He grabbed her breasts, kneading them hard, every which way over her ribcage. She put her arms over her chest, so he slapped her in the side of her head. He slapped her left, then he and slapped her right. “You hate me, don’t you? You hate me!”
    “Yes!” she broke out at last. “I hate you! I fucking hate you! I hate you—you fucking prick!” She caught her breath, and was uncertain. She blinked, not knowing what he was going to do to her.
    “Shit. Call an exorcist,” he said. He lay his weight on her and stroked her hair, trying to get her to calm down. “You drive me crazy, you know? You push me, like I said before. Can you see what I’m saying to you? It’s that curse. That warm wet pussy of yours. It drives a man crazy. There’s nothing like hot cunt.
    “Can I tell you something? You’re my favorite. Fuck all those other girls, I just want you. I mean it.”
    She moaned and turned her face to one side, but he tangled his hands in her hair and pressed his face to hers. Gripping her tightly, he got his stiff prick against the lips of her pussy, then pushing steadily, he drove it into her, fucking her gently at first, then thrusting, ramming, shoving his prick spasmodically in her.
    She tried to stay calm, but pain jarred her too often for her to fully relax. His kisses became bites, and he gripped her too hard, forcing