Lady In The House Ch. 03

"Oh but you don't understand Michele," he sneered, "its more fun to take what I want!"

Steve pulled me roughly to him and locked his lips on mine. At the same time his hand went to my skirt and yanked it up around my waist. He twisted his hands in the nylon of my slip and yanked it down around my knees and ground his body against mine. I felt his hard member pushing against me though the rough denim of his jeans.

Then Steve pushed me away to arm's length.

"Drop the skirt bitch'" he hissed.

"What?" I answered not understanding quite what was going on.

'SLAP'!

My head exploded with the force of the slap to my face; I thought my head had been knocked off.

"Don't you fucking mark her!" Carmel warned Steve.

"Well you tell that bitch, I ain't half as nice as Eddie so she better just take what's coming ok," Steve hissed at Carmel.

"Ok Steve, I think she gets it!" Carmel retorted.

"Well let's just make sure," Steve answered and then punched me in the stomach. I doubled over in pain completely winded.

"Right I'm wasting time, no more talk; just action. I tell you what to do and you do it bitch ok?"

I nodded as best I could, my face was on fire from the slap and I still couldn't breath.

"Skirt!" Steve demanded.

I put my hands to the waistband of my skirt and tugged it down around my ankles then stepped out of it along with my slip.

"Now my jeans!"

I stepped forward and tugged at Steve's belt.

"On you your fucking knees you stupid cunt!" Steve bellowed and brutally pushed me down.

Now my face was level with Steve's crotch and I reached out and undid his belt. I noticed again my manicured painted nails as I eased the zip of his fly down and snapped the button at the top of his jeans. As I eased the jeans down his legs a fetid aroma assaulted my nose and I noticed his putrid underwear.

"Stand!" Steve ordered.

I stood, tottering on my heels trying to recover my breath. Steve grabbed me and forced himself against me pushing his tongue deep into my mouth and pushing his hips against me. Carmel looked on at Michele; this attractive petite woman in heavy ruined makeup, dressed in her blouse and jacket but without her skirt, wearing torn and laddered hose and panties was teetering on her stylish black pumps as this jailhouse hooligan with fetid breath and stained boxers ravaged her.