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I tell Kat that I saw her pictures.

And she loved him being rough with her. He worked her breasts in his hands, rolling her nipples between his fingers, making her flow start. And he kissed her deeply, using his teeth, in the hollow of her neck. Her world was spinning; she was loving this; she was putty in his strong arms.

One hand left the breast work to the other and traveled down her body until it gripped her hard in the crotch. She moaned at the strength and insistence of his hand there and she could feel his manhood rising and pushing at the small of her back.

She had grown so weak that she had to fall forward, across the seat of the bench, gripping the top of the bench's wrought-iron back with her hands spread, holding herself in place as her lover continued his steamy onslaught on her willing body.

Her lover's hands were pulling at her long skirt, hauling yards of material up to a bunch around her waist, exposing Pamela's milky white thighs and dimpled bottom to his roving search. She felt and heard her panties being ripped away, and then his long fingers were invading her cunt, searching for and quickly finding her clit and sending flares of pleasure charging through her. But it was a electrifying feeling that seemed almost to be happening to someone else. His lips and teeth were still firmly planted in the hallow of her neck, and she was feeling woozy, almost as if she were rising up out of her body and watching this glorious ravishing she was receiving from somewhere up in the branches of the magnolia tree. But that was all right with her, because a glorious ravishing it was.

His long, slender, talented fingers working deep inside her fold was driving her to rapture, and she experienced an orgasm that eclipsed anything her husband had been able to do to her for years.

Her lover's lips left her and her head lolled to the side as she felt them reengage with her in the crevice between her soft butt cheeks. He was kissing and tonguing her at her puckered hole, and she had never known what ecstasy this could invoke. That long, thick tongue was invading her there, while the fingers of one of his hands continued to stroke her pleasure spot, encouraging her to explode once more under his expert touch.

She was writhing under him now, hardly able to hold herself up bent over the bench. He sensed she was about to collapse, and he rose up and took her breasts in his hands once more and both held her up to him and squeezed them until she screamed out in pain-laced ecstasy. Then he was holding her there with just one hand and he was using the other one to slap a huge cock, a monster cock, against the small of her back and her thighs, urging it to hardened even further, when it already was making Pamela weak in the knees at the thought of taking him in her love canal.

That wasn't his immediate plan. The slappings of his tool turned to rubbings across her bum and up and down in the crease between her cheeks and then he was centering on her puckered backdoor.

Pamela arched her back and screamed to the distant sliver of a moon as he entered her there and started to stroke her, reaching a new depth with each stroke. He pulled her close into him, with the fingers of one hand entering her vagina once more and stroking her clit, his other hand cupping a breast, and his lips and teeth back at the hallow of her neck. His cock was impossibly huge, stretching her further with each stroke, filling her beyond capacity. But she was growing weaker, and his kiss continued to have an intoxicating effect on her, making her feel both the full pleasure and pain of each stroke but being somehow distant from what was happening to her. She only knew that she'd never been taken like this and that she loved him throbbing and growing and working inside her. He brought her to a third orgasm even more electrifying than the first two.

She was a rag doll now, supported only by him.

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