He was even hairier than I had anticipated, a blanket of dark, wiry hairs starting at his neck and continuing, unchecked, down his entire body. With his huge head, lolloping out of proportion to his body, he looked strangely like a bearskin rug.

Except he was upright. And moving towards me. His dick waving before him like a beacon to hell. Lie back and think of England, I urged myself, and England has never seemed such a hideous waste land.

"Enjoying yourself?" Philip asked in a tone which evinced no interest in the reply.

"Who wouldn't?" I replied, shaking at my bonds desultorily. I was about to be rogered by godzilla's malformed younger brother - what girl wouldn't be moist at the prospect of that?

He jumped on to the bed and straddled me, and I felt for the first time his flesh on mine - well, through the forest of hair, that is. He balanced himself and sidled forward, his prick flouncing in front of me. It was short and squat, just like him, and it clearly expected to be sucked. He rested his hands high on the wall behind me and it hovered before my mouth, glancing against it a couple of times while he positioned himself properly. When he was satisfied he pushed forward and the hideous length of blubber pressed against my lips.

What else could I do? I opened my mouth and took it inside me. Immediately, he began to hump me, fucking my mouth, and I was glad his dick was so short. It still filled me, though, and I fought hard not to gag as he slid in and out. I gripped my lips around him, providing solid friction, enhancing his experience: the sooner he came and it was all over, the sooner I could get out of this mess and take my humiliation out on Mr Loverman's innocent arse.

But damn me, Philip wasn't having any of that. Probably because he was going to come too soon, he pulled out of my mouth and instead swung his cock above me, silently inviting the ministrations of my tongue. Somehow, that seemed even worse than having the thing rammed in my mouth: at least then I was helpless, but now I was being forced to participate, I was complicit in this sexual act. Revolted, I stretched my tongue out and licked his length, probing the underside of his shaft. He raised himself and presented his balls, and I licked at them, sucking them into my mouth and somehow resisting the temptation to bite. He pressed forward again, sitting on me, forcing my tongue against his perineum, and that was undoubtedly the most hideous experience of my entire life. I tickled my tongue against it mercilessly, hoping that the stimulation would be too great and he would ease off again.

Praise be, he did.

Every silver lining has its cloud, of course. He jumped off me and settled himself between my legs, his bulbous head inches from my snatch. It put me in mind of a David Attenborough documentary, and I half expected him to start grooming me and searching for fleas. Alas, he did something much worse. His slobbering tongue speared straight inside me without so much as a casual enquiry to my lips. He seemed to be trying to expel his entire tongue into my vagina, as though he was looking for something. The source of the Nile, perhaps. There was certainly something of the intrepid explorer in the way he set about his task. Well, at least all that saliva would help to accommodate his prick, when that ghastly moment arrived. As I watched the back of his head bobbing up and down, I was rather glad it was so large: if it had been normal sized there was a definite fear he could have got it stuck inside me.

His tongue play was one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life and, in truth, not without a frisson of abnormal sexual excitement. It was exactly the sort of undisciplined, aggressive approach to oral sex I've always imagined an alsation would take, and while I've never fancied such a thing it was interesting to be offered the experience.

Finally he grew tired - I expect his jaws were aching - and slid from me, sitting back on his heels and admiring his handiwork on my sodden pussy. The leer on his face told me what he was going to do next. So did he, just to reinforce the point.

"I'm going to fuck you, now."

"Thought you might." I parted my legs. "Come along then, no dallying."

"You're really getting off on this, aren't you. Look at your cunt. It's soaked."

I forbore from telling him it was soaked in half a gallon of his own saliva, not my juices, and instead smiled indulgently. "Give it to me, big boy."

Oblivious to the irony, big boy swung himself towards me and guided his cock between my lips. With a savage push he forced himself forward and I felt the cock thrust inside me, dragging my left labia with it. Instant agony shot through me and as he began to pump himself inside me I was overwhelmed by pain, but gradually the saliva spread itself and eased his passage inside me.

He adopted the same approach to fucking me as he had to oral sex, frantically twisting and pushing, his breath heavy on my face. He gripped the bedstead and looked down at me, grinning malevolently. I worked my pelvic muscles, forcing them to grip at his cock as it slid up and down inside me. I was annoyed to be giving him such a good time, but I wanted it over so I needed to speed things up. Happily, my ploy worked. His eyes glazed over and he raised his head. I saw his biceps clench and his stomach tighten - as much as it could, anyway, in its blubber encased state - and he grunted gracelessly. He stopped with his cock almost outside me and with a yell fell forward, impaling me once more. His thrusts were short and fast as his spunk fired deep inside me, each one accompanied by a guttural sigh. Finally, he spent himself and lay heavily on top of me, his mat of hair glistening with sweat.

The things I do.

The things I'll have to do to get even for this.

Somebody had better watch out. Nemesis was approaching, and she was very, very angry.