Mad About You: Part 1 (MF,rough)
by Frost

Jamie bent low over the contract, squinting to catch the fine print. She made
an impatient noise, then took off her glasses, cleaned them carefully, rubbed
her eyes, then put them back on again. She studied the print, then made a
small notation next to one of the lines.

She sat back in the chair and yawned, then rubbed her eyes again and glanced
at the clock. It was almost eight. Paul was going to be mad again. They'd
hoped to have a romantic evening together, to make up for some of the time
they'd missed.

She made a wry face, then flipped the page and read down the fine print
again. Late hours were a neccesary part of life, this time of year,
especially if you wanted to be the most junior partner at Baskin Forbes,
one of New York's largest advertising agencies.

She wrapped up the work just before nine, then finally shrugged on her
hip-length suede jacket, slipped into her sneakers, and headed downstairs to
the parking lot. She didn't yet have the BMW she'd hoped for, but last year
had managed to trade in the eight year old Toyota for a two year old
Chrysler, so she was getting there.

She flipped a lock of soft, blonde hair out of her eyes as she started the
engine, then accelerated smoothly, and turned out onto the street. At this
time of night the traffic was fairly thin, and twenty-five minutes later she
was pulling up in front of her find no parking spaces, of

She cursed at the Nissan in her space, then drove a block up and stole
someobody elses. She stepped out of the car and shivered a bit in the late
January weather. She did up her coat tightly and slipped on her gloves as
she made her way back down the street.

She walked along briskly, and a minute later Jerry, their doorman, was
pulling the door open and smiling at her.

"Hi there, Mrs. Buchman," he smiled.

"Hi, Jerry," she said.

"Nuther late night?"

"Afraid so," she sighed, making her way to the elevators.

"Well, gotta climb that slippery ladder," Jerry said.

"Just so there's plenty of gold at the top," she smiled, stepping into the
elvator as it opened.

He watched her until the door closed, remembering the sight of her in the
summer, wearing a tight spandex workout outfit when he'd delivered a package
to her door. She was slender, but athletic, and with her bright blue eyes,
and beautiful, silky hair was just adorable.

His feelings were mixed. Half of him wanted to pat her head and hug her in a
kind of paternal way.

The other half wanted to fuck her brains out. She had some kinda ass, and the
thought of her kneeling between his legs, and him plunging his pecker into
that sweet mouth, was enough to get his rocks off every time he beat his

"Man, would I love to fuck you," he whispered to himself as the doors closed.

Jamie turned and checked her face in the mirrored wall as she rode upstairs.
She pulled some bangs down over her forehead, hoping to look waif-like, and
defuse some of Paul's inevitable anger.

She tried out various sad smiles on herself until the elevator stopped, then
she sighed and headed down the hall to their apartment.

She did love Paul, she really did, but...after six years of marriage...things
were...not quite boring, but certainly it had been a while since sparks flew.

She shrugged and pushed her key into the apartment. She pushed open the door
and peeked inside, then pushed it open all the way and flipped on the lights.
Paul wasn't here.

She hissed worriedly, wondering if he'd gone out to get drunk or something.
She cloed the door, then hung up her coat.

"Paul?" she called.

She walked through the living room to the bedroom, then checked the bathroom
and kitchen. He wasn't here, nor was there any sign that he'd been here
recently. She checked his closet. His brown suit was missing. That was the
suit he'd worn to work.

She pondered that for a moment. Surely if he'd come home he'd have changed
immediately, and even if he'd waited an hour or two before getting disgusted
and leaving, surely he'd not put on the same suit.

"I should have called," she said.

But she hadn't. At five she'd hoped she'd finish by six, and so get home only
a bit late. At six she thought surely it would only be till seven. At seven
she had thought she'd be done by eight. and by eight she was too afraid of
getting the phone slammed in her ear to call.

But she'd wondered why he hadn't called her.

She worried now that something might have happened to him, that he'd been hit
by a car or mugged or something.

Then she heard a key in the front door and raced into the bedroom. She closed
the door and stripped, dumping everything into her closet, then pulled on a
green satin nightshirt that set off her blonde hair so well.

She ran to the door just as Paul opened it, fluffing her hair so it hung down
over her shoulders.

"Oh," he said.

"Oh," she said.

"Uhm, look, honey, I'm really sorry."

"You are?"

"Yeah, I tried to call, but the pay phone wan't working."

"And there's only one payphone in the city?

"Ahhh, I was stuck in traffic. See, I had to go all the way out to Queens to
check on a set i wanna use for the phone company thing, and it just took
longer than I thought. I lost track of time."

"Hmmph," she said, turning up her nose. "Some romantic evening."

"Well, aaahh, can't we make it for tomorrow?"

"We have to go out with Sara and Dave tomorow."

"Oh, yeah, uhm, couldn't we cancel?"

"No, we couldn't cancel! It's their anniversery. We're going to the opera."


He came into the bedroom and took off his suit jacket then undid his tie.
Jamie moved to the bed and sat on the edge, crossing her long legs.

"Did you eat something?"

"Yeah, I had a couple of burgers sent in," he said, kicking off his shoes. He
massaged his feet and sighed tiredly.

"Ohh, la, lah," she said as he bent over.

"Don't be such a dirty girl," he said.

"I can't help it. That's just the way I am."

"I married a cheap bimbo."

"And a forgiving one, lucky for you."

"Yes, very forgiving." He stripped to his shorts, then came over and slid his
hands around her head, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead, then on the
lips. Her arms went around him and their tongues touched briefly as her hands
slid down onto his ass.

He sighed and pushed her head away, smling wryly. "Honey, I am sooooo tired."


"I mean, can, wait until tomorow?"

"You mean you're too hired to make love?"

"Well...kind of, yeah."

"I can remember a time you'd crawl through broken glass to get to me."

"Yeah, well." He smiled,kissed her on the forehead again, then stepped back.
"That was before I knew you."

"Oh you..!" she swung at him but he ducked back with a grin.

Jamie was so tired herself that she couldn't find it in her heart to blame
him. All she wanted to do was veg out in front of the TV and relax.

"Do you know the last time we made love?" she sighed.

"A couple of days ago."

"No. We fucked a couple of days ago. I'm talking about making love. You know,
when it lasts longer than twenty minutes."

"Jesus, Jamie, can't we argue about this tomorrow," he groaned, pulling on
his lying-around-the-house sweats.

"What? In front of Sara and Dave? Anyway, I'm not complaining. I mean, I'm
not blaming you. It's just that... we've both been so busy..."

"I know."

"I just wonder if we've become bored with each other or something. There was
a time we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Now we can sleep in the
same bed for days and not touch each other."

"I am not bored with you," he growled, sliding his arms around her.

"Well, maybe bored isn't the right term," she sighed. "Maybe...maybe we just
don't...excite each other like we used to."

"We're just tired."

"Maybe," she sighed.

He kissed her and went out into the living room. She followed slowly.
"Thanksgiving," she said.


He dropped onto the sofa and reached for the remote as she slid down beside

"Thanksgiving night. That's the last time we made love."

"We made love plenty of times since then."

"Yeah, once a week," she snorted. "Anyway, I'm not talking about a morning
quicky, or a fifteen or twenty minute session before we go to bed, I'm
talking about making love."

"Honey," he groaned. "Neither of us has the time any more to spend two or
three hours groping and necking on the fuckin' couch."

"If Cindy Crawford walked in that door naked right now you'd find the time
and energy."

"Well...yeah, I guess."

"So you're not that attracted to me any more!"

"I am too! It's just are whores, I guess. We like to sleep around
with gorgeous fashion models whenever they throw themselves at us. Anyway,
wouldn't you jump Tom Cruise if he walked through the room naked?"



"Well, maybe I would. He's sure got some kind of body."

"And I don't?"

"Not like him."


"Do you think familarity breeds contempt?"

"I could never have contempt for you? You're too gorgeous," he grinned,
sliding his hand along her leg.

"Yeah, but what about me having contept for you?"

"Oh, very funny. You're a funny lady."

She crawled over and straddled him, sitting on his thighs as she pushed him
back and licked her lips seductively. Then she reached down and peeled her
nightshirt up and off in one smooth motion, tossing it on the floor behind

He reached for her but she gripped his wrists and shoved his hands back.

"Do you think I'm sexy?" she purred.

He looked straight into the soft, high flesh of her breasts, eyeing the
bright pink nipples, and smiled.

"Yes, you're very exciting," he said.

She held his hands, rubbing her ass up down on his thighs as she tightened
her knees against his hips.

"Do I turn you on?" she growled.

"Sometimes," he said.

She brushed her nipples against his face, pulling her chest back as he tried
to mouth them.

"Do I now?" she taunted.

"You're sure starting to," he said.

"Like what you see?" she teased, brushing her breasts against his face. He
licked at them and she pulled back. She stuck her tongue out at him, then
pulled up off his lap and stood up. She looked down at him, saw him staring
into her crotch, and grinned as his hands came up and gripped her buttocks.

His tongue slid along her pussy crack and she laughed, then jerked away and
jumped back onto the floor. She snatched up her nightshirt and pulled it on
over her head.

"Just wondered," she said, grinning at him.

"Get your ass back here," he growled.

"No way. I know how tired you are. I don't want to exhaust you."

"Get back here."

"Uh uh."

He jumped to his feet and she squealed and ran around behind the sofa. He
chased her, and she circled the sofa a couple of times. Then he leapt over
the thing and caught her, growling as he lifted her up over his shoulders.

He staggered back to the sofa as she writhed in his arms, then fell heavily
into the plush cushion, grabbing her around the middle as she tried to crawl

"Let me go!" she cried, laughing.

"Not likely," he said, flipping up the bottom of her nightshirt to reveal her
bare behind.

She twisted this way and that, and he got an arm around her waist and pulled
her over his lap, tugging the nightshirt higher. His right hand slapped down
against her ass and she yelped and squirmed harder.

"Hold still, you brat!"

"Pervert!" she cried.

He gripped her pussy and kneaded the flesh as her legs jerked and bounced on
the sofa. Then she moaned and slowed her motions, spreading her legs.

"Ah ha, got you where it hurts, didn't I?" he grinned, rubbing his hand up
and down her pussy mound.

"Hmmmmmmm," she moaned.

He slipped his hand out from between her soft thighs and cracked it down on
her ass again. She yelped and cursed wildly.

"You deserve a spanking for being a cocktease," he laughed.

"That'll be the day!" she cried, writhing and wriggling in his arms as she
tried to escape.

She managed to twist around and get across the sofa, then flopped off onto
the floor. He grabbed her again, falling atop her, and they rolled several
times before he came out on top. She twisted, and tried to crawl away, but
he grabbed her again.

He sat back on his heels and hauled her belly up across his knees, then
pulled her wrists together behind her back and pinned them there with one
hand. He flipped up the bottom of her nightshirt again and spanked her ass
several times.

Both of them had been just enjoying themselves, fooling around, having fun,
but something caught both of them in the guts as his hand slapped across her
ass, and both of them realized it.

For Paul, it was a feeling of power that seemed to swell his lust to a point
he hadn't felt in months.

For Jamie, it was a strange feeling of helplesness, something that appealed
to all those adolescent fantasies about authority figures and rape.

Paul slapped his hand down harder, almost experimentally, ready to back off
and apologise if she got angry. She didn't, though she cried out, and a red
handprint appeared on her ivory flesh. Again he slapped his hand down, then
again, then again, wondering at his response, feeling his rock-hard prick
pushing against her belly.

Jamie felt her eyes tearing at the biting heat in her rear end as his hand
cracked down again. She cried out in pain, her breathing harsh and ragged as
she tried to understand why her loins were so hot and moist and heavy, why
the blows were setting her guts churning in spite of the pain.

She was a strong-willed feminist, a well-educated, independant career woman.
How could she let him spank her as though she were some little girl? How
could she let him live out some kind of adolescent fantasy by hurting her?

And how could it feel so good?

Finally his hand cracked down especially hard and she cried out in pain, her
body thrashing away. She rolled several times, then leapt to her feet as he
jumped up after her. She backed away, not speaking, her heart pounding.

She found herself backed against the side of the bookcase, hemmed in by Paul.
She pushed her hands out but he gripped her wrists and lifted them high above
her, pinning them together above her head, pressing them back against the

They stared at each other, then his right hand slid up and down her body,
then undid the buttons, starting at the top, working downwards, until her
nightshirt fell apart and bared her soft, slender body. Her breasts rose
and fell on her heaving chest as she pulled her wrists against his hold.

His hand moved up and down her again, rough, fast, squeezing her breasts,
then diving down between her legs. She gasped and arched her back as he
palmed her pubic mound and squeezed almost painfully hard.

"Oohhhhh," she gasped. "Oohhh God!"

He forced a finger up inside her, then a second, jamming them in to the
knuckles as she gasped and wriggled against the bookcase. Her legs twisted
and her ass ground agaisnt the wood as he pumped his fingers inside her.
Then he brought his thumb donw on her clitty, catching it against his
fingers, and began to roughly grind and rub against it.

"Fuck! Oh FUCK!" Oh God!"

"Yeah, yeah! You like that, huh, baby! Come on, baby! Come on my fingers!
Show me what a hot assed slut you are!"

"Ohhh! OOh, Paul! Noo...nooo, Maa...Maaarrk!"

She felt the heat swelling inside her, felt her breasts aching, her nipples
burning like glowing red embers. She slapped her ass back against the side of
the bookcase again and again, jerking her head back as the air puffed out
between her lips.

"Come, baby! Come on my fingers!"


Jamie didn't know what was happening to her. She hadn't felt this hot in
months. Her insides were churning and roiling, and her head was roaring like
an freight train. She felt a sudden blast of high-intensity pleasure rip
through her pussy and bucked her hips forward violently, then arched her back
as she trembled and shook.

An orgasm boiled through her nerves and sinews, and she shuddered as the
power of it tore her mind to pieces. She gurgled in bliss, hardly able to
breath as her chest tightened and her legs danced and jerked helplessly.

Paul jerked her away from the bookcase, throwing her against the back of the
sofa. The momentum carried her upper body forward and down over the back of
the couch, and she groaned as she stared at the cushions. She felt his hands
on her thighs, ripping them open, then felt his cock against her pussy.

Paul's hands shook as he rubbed his cock up and down against her drooling
pussy slit. As a liberated woman, it was very seldom when Jamie would allow
herself to be taken like this, to be fucked from behind. She found it

Now, however, with the sex-heat fully in contol of her, she didn't seem able
to protest. He slid into her, then gripped her hips and thrust deeply. He
heard her groan, a long, quavering sound of pleasure, as his cock drove deep
into her guts.

He gripped her ass, squeezing and kneading the soft meat, then raised both
hands and slapped them down. She yelped, then groaned again, as his fingers
dug into her ass meat and he began to fuck her hard and fast. His cock pumped
furiously as his hips spanked her ass cheeks.

He used the full length of his hard, thick pecker as he rodded it into her
belly. He watched his cock sawing back and forth between her soft, furred
cunt lips, watched the dark pink flesh within her, all moist and glistening
as his cock pounded through it.

"Fuck!" he gasped. "Oh, man!"

He buried his tool inside her, then ground his hips against her ass and
thighs. He ran his hands up and down her ass then slapped it again as he
began to fuck once more. He felt her insides spasming and shaking and
squeezing down on his boner, and felt his juices ready to blast, ready
to blow.

He gripped her thighs and jerked them wider, spreading her open for him. She
groaned again, but he didn't care. He drove his tool into her furry crack
with total abandon, grunting with effort, groaning with pleasure as his hips
pounded against her thighs.

Her glasses fell off, and she hardly noticed. She gurgled and grunted in
bliss and dazed confusion as he drilled her exposed pussy crack, and spanked
her ass with his hips.

Then he came, his juices frothing out of his prick, flooding her insides. His
hot, salty white cock-milk poured down into her wriggling body as he felt his
balls draining and his cock slowly begin to soften.

"Oohhh, baaby," he groaned.

He reached down and pulled her upright, and her feet stumbled, then found
purchase on the rug. He pulledher tightly against him, even as his softening
cock reamined inside her. His hands kneaded her breasts as he kissed and
licked the sides of her throat.

"Who says you don't excite me?" he sighed.

"Bastard," she sighed.

Continued in part 2...


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