Oct 192007
 


Hannah was ready to forgive Adam. She woke up horny. Adam was sleeping beside her, and there were a good 20 minutes before the alarm would go off. She wanted to fuck. Hannah wanted to climax or feel the warm splash of Adam’s climax. At this level of arousal, either would be satisfying.

She burrowed under the covers, leaving behind the cold October morning air for the warmth of bodies under the comforter. Hannah opened Adam’s pajama bottoms and pulled out his half-erect cock She slipped it into her mouth and sucked oh-so-tenderly.

She licked him with all the care and affection she used to feel for him. The taste of him was what she craved. The stiffening of his cock reaffirmed that she was a woman worth desiring. It was so easy to forget all the neglect, all the times he had rejected her for sex and all the heartache she had gone through wondering why his libido had died while hers had paradoxically risen. In the smothering heat of a blowjob under covers, all doubt and regret is burned away. Relief washed over her; maybe things weren’t as bad as she’d suspected. As she sucked her husband’s cock, Hannah began to believe that she didn’t need the strange sexual curses that had recently dominated her life.

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“God damn it,” Adam yelled. His hands flipped off the covers and pushed at Hannah’s shoulders.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” he said. “I’ve got the Henderson meeting first thing this morning.”

Hannah looked at her husband, his cock still in her mouth. She gave his cock a coaxing lick.

“Damn,” Adam said, and Hannah thought she had won him over. “I need to have the mid-month finished, too.”

His tone made it clear that having his cock sucked had ruined his entire day.

Hannah took Adam’s cock out of her mouth and apologized. It didn’t stop him from whining and bitching about the day ahead. He complained after his shower, he fussed about the lack of clean socks while getting dressed, and he was downcast as he sullenly ate his breakfast. By the time Adam left for work, Hannah was out of forgiveness. She had moved full on to resentment and quite a bit of hostility.

She was also very horny.

Wednesday was laundry day. It was a full-day affair; Hannah had figured out how to stretch it with a lunch break, ironing, folding and an hour of World of Warcraft while the towels dried. She sorted through the hamper of dirty laundry and tried not to think of the fiasco of this morning.

Instead, she thought of her curses. What might today’s curse bring? Would she be smothered in her laundry, held helpless while the towels whipped her bottom? Would she held down while Samuel entered her house, taunting her with what he was going to do to her? Would he make her suck his gorgeous cock? Would she choke on his cum as he filled her throat?

Oh, Hannah hoped so, and yet she didn’t. She suspected that all she had to do was go over to his house and knock on his door and she would be fucked all day long. She knew this, but she couldn’t do it. She wanted it, but she was also afraid of what that kind of decision would mean. It would mean the end of her and Adam. It would mean telling her family that she had lost the husband who gave her such a nice house and a life of luxury. It would mean that Adam would be the good guy and she would be the bad girl. For some reason, that galled her most of all. She was the hurt one here, damn it. She wasn’t going to do anything that could change that. She would rather suffer than give Adam that kind of victory.

Hannah was still fuming in offended martyrdom when she started the first load of laundry. It was large pile of whites, half of which were Adam’s socks. She dumped them in, set the temperature for hot, put in the detergent and slammed the lid shut.

That was when a powerful force slammed her against the washer. Her hips were pressed against the filling machine, her legs spread wide by some unknown power. That same invisible strength pushed her head down and pulled her arms behind her. Hannah moaned as her heavy breasts pressed against the cold lid of the washer. Her chin rested on the back of the control panel, her nose pressed against the wall. She was completely immobilized.

The clothes were next. Her shirt was ripped off her. Her bra fell in tatters. Her pajama bottoms tore with a loud rip. Her white cotton panties exploded into inch-long scraps. She was stripped bare and helpless.

She should have been afraid, but she wasn’t. She welcomed it. She didn’t know what was about to happen, but she knew one thing and that thought made her tingle between her thighs. These things were happening because someone wanted to do something to her. That kind of attention made her euphoric.

The washer went into its cycle, but something was different. It filled with water, but this water was so hot that the temperature of the washer became almost unbearably hot. Hot metal brought Hannah’s skin to life, obliterating any chill that was left in the October morning.

Then the washer moved. The wash cycle began, but instead of the gentle hum she had come to know, this was a bone-rattling vibration. Her entire body shook with the strength of the vibrations. Her nipples were so hard pressed against the vibrating metal lid. The invisible force that held her ground her hips against the machine, pressing her pussy and, more important, her clitoris against the warm steel.

“Yes!” she cried. The vibrations were better than any toy. Bent over and pinned against the machine, she felt as though she were being fucked. She was trapped in a wonderful threesome with the machine and the invisible force. She was in the center of heat, vibrations and unyielding power.

She tried to grind. She tried to move her hips against the washer. She tried to somehow fuck, but the absolute force that held her forbade it all. All she could do was stay there and take it.

Hannah took it.

The vibrations grew stronger. The floor creaked from the out-of-control washer. The walls shook a little, and Hannah watched a crack form on the wall. She knew she should be concerned but somehow the damage being done to her laundry room amused her. It was like breaking a bed with sex or leaving a stain on a dress. All the stress and damage were proof that Hannah was having one hell of a time.

The vibrations stopped. She groaned with disappointment. She tried to get up, but she still couldn’t move. She heard water draining, and she sighed with relief. She still had the spin cycle to go through. In the brief pause, she noticed how much of her desire had dripped down her thighs.

It was worth the pause. Once again, the washer ramped up into some sort of overdrive parody of its usual cycle. The vibrations were so strong that her pinned breasts felt as though they were being squeezed with prickly fingers. The spinning was so intense; it was a pulsing sensation of vibrating bliss on her pussy.

“Oh, yes,” Hannah screamed.

“Oh, yes!” Hannah moaned.

“Oh, yes!” Hannah cried.

Hannah came. The invisible force kept her pinned as her orgasm rippled through her body. She surrendered to her immobility and rode her orgasm out. She became a creature of pleasure, free of husbands, doubt and decisions. She ceased to be a wife and was just a woman fucked in the laundry room.

The washer stopped. She slumped with exhaustion, and it was a good seven seconds before she realized that the invisible force was gone. She had been released and hadn’t even noticed it.

The front of the washer was stained with her desire. She laughed as she flopped to the floor. Her body was numb from the vibrations, and her pussy felt as though it had exploded into a nova. She sat on the floor and breathed.

Idly, she pulled through her brown hair, moving aside the blond and red locks till she found what she was looking for: a single white lock, the same color as her washing machine.

To be continued,

  15 Responses to “Fiction: The Seven Curses of Hannah Part Four”

  1. Oh, absolutely lovely. The washer never does anything for me, but I just *love* pictures of women pressed against them.

  2. I didn’t have a picture ready for this chapter until my friend Ashlyn came over for lunch and to show off her interesting underwear. The best part? She cleaned off the top of the washer machine first. Nice ass, and she cleans.

  3. This is really so much fun. And so satisfying that this woman is getting, to some degree, her needs met.

    Nicely done.

    Eve

  4. Eve- True, but waiting to be pinned up against a washing machine by a curse is no way to live :)

  5. “these things were happening because someone wanted to do something to her”

    sighs…

    I love it when I’m told things such as “I’d take you six ways to Sunday” or “if you weren’t married I’d throw you on the bed and fuck you til you couldn’t stand” – it’s both the fact I’m desirable to someone other than my husband, and the intimated violence behind it.

  6. I have a suggestion for dear Hannah, she should do that to him next time in the middle of the night, but just before he comes, release from her mouth and allow it spill over his belly, pubic hair and thighs – leave it as a ‘gift’ for him to clean up in the am.

  7. Are you going to explain Adam’s odd behavior? Regardless of what else is going on, refusing a blow-job already in progress is just weird. I know for the story’s sake he needs to be a cold fish, but, come ON! It’s a blow-job! Already in progress! I mean, I’d likely refuse it if is _wasn’t_ my wife, but – A blow job! Already in progress!

  8. Musns- lol, I like your suggestion. I totally agree with the sigh.

    David- I have heard of similar things over a dozen times from friends, readers and heck, other blogs. Reasons include having an affair, work stress, loss of sex drive, just not liking the spouse etc. The problem I often feel as a writer is if I pick one of these reasons, say videogames, then I feel like I am demonizing videogames for all bad marriages. I don’t feel thats the case, so it makes me hesitant to pick one cause. I feel like every sexless marriage has its unique reasons and most couples never really do understand what happened.

    On the other hand, this is a story so maybe I should have a reason :)

  9. Dave & Shon:

    I assure you, no reason is needed. I’ve actually been with a guy who pushed me off a late morning bj because he preferred to sleep.

    I have references that will assure you that it wasn’t because I lacked bj skills.

  10. “Sometimes, you feel like a nut. Sometimes, you don’t.”

    I’ve turned down BJ in the past, mostly when I was stressed or obsessed. I know, scary, but it happens.

  11. Hannah makes me cry.

  12. *glances at shon with a mild grin*
    For someone that’s supposed to be cursed, she’s sure having a good time….
    *Mystique wonders if there’s some hidden catch at the end of it all*

    And yeah, I’m kinda with David on this one, the dude needs his head checked, lol.
    Both of them, preferably..

    Curse number 2, stands to be my most fav at the moment, look forward to the rest ;)

    Mystique.

  13. the washing machine can be a wee bit deadly, interesting story as always

  14. Dammit. When does Monday get here?

  15. groan… i only just got around to catching up on the whole story so far. perhaps too much at one breathless sitting. your research was clearly conducted with a VERY representative sample – or else how the hell have you found out so much about me?!

    as for those of you who doubt what shon says about sexless marriages, you’d better take his word for it. you don’t really want us survivors, escapees, and suffering current prisoners to start testifying…

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