Some are born to greatness. Others have it thrust deep and hard between their alabaster thighs.

Dawn was perplexed. Though only when she could find a moment to think, of course. The rest of the time her husband Michael was claiming her attention with his attentions. Her ass was cold on the stainless steel countertop; legs parted and lifted to assist with access. Her black panties had been ripped from her hips with little or no warning, and her skirt was unceremoniously thrown up around her waist.

Michael was a quiet man, studious and clever. A physicist of sorts. He was home early today. Home, naked, and ramming his substantial greatness into his slippery, eager, fertile, confused wife.

His dark thatch matched hers, as could be plainly seen when his cock descended into her depths. Her snatch, he called it. Vagina was overly clinical, cunt too casual. His skin was darker than hers. A skeleton in his family history had given him and his brothers a gypsy tint. An olive glow against her pale skin.

His behaviour was a little strange. She'd never been taken like this, in the kitchen, and the daylight, without preamble, or warning. He'd walked in the door and dropped his pants, hard already, and insistent. She liked it. No doubt. She maybe wished he'd taken the time to remove her shirt, but he seemed so desperate.

His cock felt larger than usual, as did he, as he slid between her folds. She liked the position; enjoyed seeing him. She'd be like this all the time if he wanted, but he never did. Not like this time. Not like now. The head of his cock slid from her and she sighed, and he took hold of her hips, and thrust again.

The head was large, and an almost glowing red. It spread her as he pressed again, forcing its way past her puffy lips, and through, sliding smoothly up inside her. Dawn wasn't shy. Not like Michael normally was. She sat and watched, her hands behind her back to steady herself as he pushed.

She liked the veins she could see on his shaft, and the way he filled inside her. She watched her snatch-lips as they drew him in, and could feel the second-hand pressure on her eager clit. She felt her wetness and revelled in it. She thought for a moment of how she might do this again, without him if necessary. She loved the naughtiness, the need and the wanton, dribbling desperation.

She bucked, as he pressed again, the strain showing on his face, his strength in his legs, and his cock. She pressed, as best she could, and she told him how much she wanted him to fuck her. She knew, with certainty, that she was in danger of pregnancy.

She remembered the tenderness of their first time, and how it was his first with anyone. She thought back through her more experienced history, and recalled some cocks she'd met. Some fucks she'd had; some men her snatch had taken. She recalled the curve and the strength of her first, and the submission of being taken from behind.

Her thoughts were interrupted as he sped things up, and his thrusts became more insistent within her. She stopped remembering, as he pummelled her so wonderfully. Her snatch took up the challenge of understanding the movement, and she felt the freedom to speak.

"Michael. My God, are you alright?

He said nothing, continuing to pump, his cock lovely and strong.

"Are you... are you okay?"

Nothing. Thrust.

"I need to know something. Oh! I need..."

He spoke then, absent-mindedly. Like a physicist. As though he was preoccupied. Dawn smiled at the thought that she was the one who was occupied. Full. To the brim.

"I had a good day at work."

"Well, good... but what happened?"

"I had..." Thrust. "I had a breakthrough."

"Oh? What sort of breakthrough."

"A big one."

"Big? How big?"

"You feel me inside you?"

"Fuck, yes!"

"Bigger..." His eyes glazed. "Bigger than that."

"Oh, God."

"Bigger."

She could feel it now. The inevitable end. She was ready, and eager, and desperate enough, but she wanted to know why first. "Fucking tell me, you bastard!"

It was too late though. She felt him tense, noticed that small flinch just before, and he knew her well enough to know he wasn't alone. He thrust, she gulped.

"Cold..."

He rammed her, filling her with his meat, carelessly impaling her, just the way she wanted.

"... fucking..."

He grunted his final grunt, slid his last slide, and as Dawn shuddered to an awe-inspiringly wonderful orgasm, his muscles clenched, and he released himself, washing his seed within her unprotected depths. Dawn wrapped her legs around his waist as he screamed out in climax.

"...fusion!"