i want horacio to choke me out
It's Wednesday and you're cleaning the living room. You always clean the living room on Wednesday. It's not the typical Wednesday though, Horacio is home mid afternoon because he needed to grab some paperwork he'd forgotten.
You pick up the knick knacks and dust under them because you're thorough. Like your husband, you are meticulous. You come to his gun which he placed on the coffee table before he rushed upstairs. You pick it up to move it and in doing so, feel the weight of it in your hand. You hate the stupid thing, but it is practically an extension of Horacio, and you remind yourself that it keeps him, you, and even your country safe.
"Careful mi amor." Horacio descends the stairs. He hates seeing his worlds collide like this. He walks up behind you and with one hand lightly on your hip, removes the pistol from your hand. He puts it back down on the table carefully. "It's not one of your knick knacks."
"I know that Horacio," you say still facing away from your husband, "I'm not one of your knick knacks. I won't break under its weight."
Gripping your hip tighter with one hand, he glides his other up your torso, between your breasts and to your neck. Grasping around your throat, he forces your chin upward so the back of your head is resting on his shoulder.
"Then I won't treat you so delicately." He tightens his grip on your throat.
You swallow hard against his palm but he doesn't relent. You feel his belt unbuckle and hear his fly unzip as his pants rustle down to his knees.
His hand snakes under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to your waist and forcing your panties to one side.
You squirm, but he stills you by squeezing your throat a little tighter.
He grasps his hard cock and slides it into your entrance. You feel your moan vibrate through you both and you close your eyes.
"No querida," he adjusts his fingers against your straining neck muscles, "I won't have your mind wandering." He thrusts hard and squeezes your neck as a warning.
You nod feebly. "Yes, Horacio."
He thrusts faster and you buck against his grip. You catch the glint of the gun out of the corner of your watering eyes and you're reminded that that hand has pulled the trigger more times than he could count. That hand, capable of such violence, is wrapped around your neck, squeezing, choking you, while his strong hard cock claims you over and over.
You gasp and gag for air but his grip holds. The lack of air is making the edges of your vision blur. Just as you feel yourself about to collapse he grunts in your ear, and with a couple of final thrust he loosens his hold. You inhale deeply, your vision returning to normal. Horacio releases you and for a moment you sputter for air.
He straightens himself out, including his clothes and kisses you on the forehead.
"Please" he says gesturing to the gun.
You hand it to him and he leaves for work. You return to dusting the living room. It is Wednesday after all.
