A Fresh Taste
Madison Ava Jones
American Taboo Press
Los Angeles
Smashwords Edition
Second International Edition, January 2012
Copyright © 2012 by American Taboo Press
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by American Taboo Press, Los Angeles.
Table of Contents
Poor Little Middle Class Working Girl
Roadside Gas Station at 3am
“How many times can I tell you? I was just talking to her!”
“Fuck you, Charles. I saw you touch her.”
“We worked together for eight years. We know each other.”
“You know each other? You had a relationship with her. How the fuck do you think I’m going to react?”
Charles just stared straight ahead and drove even faster down the highway. It was three in the morning and Valentina knew now she that she should never have gone to this party with her husband. Some things from the past should just be left in the past, especially when you’re married to a politician.
“Your jealousy is out of control, Valentina. I’m running for mayor. How am I supposed to interact with people? Wave to them from across the room?”
She scowled at him.
“Did you have to interact with her?”
“Yes. She represents a major constituency in my district. I need her votes.”
“You always say something like that to justify your actions,” she responded derisively.
“My actions? You know, you could help me win this election or help me lose it. Which is it?”
She turned her head away from him and looked out the window. She realized she was letting her jealousy get the better of herself but she wasn’t going to confess that to him. If she didn’t constantly remind him that she had her eye on him, she felt he would just naturally wander astray.
“You’re doing this on purpose and you know it,” he accused her.
She simply ignored him, continuing to look out the window at the dark landscape. He really had enough of her attention-getting temper tantrums but no matter what he said they never seemed to stop. As they approached the next exit, he changed lanes and began slowing down to get off.
“What are you doing?”
“I need some gas,” he told her casually.
Valentina glanced over at the console and saw that he still had a quarter of a tank remaining.
“It’s late. Can’t you go in the morning?” she protested.
“No. I have an early meeting out at the county courthouse and it’s a long drive.”
He watched her purse her lips in an angry pout as he veered off the highway toward the gas station. When he pulled up to one of the pumps, she opened the door to get out.
“Where are you going?” he asked her in surprise.
“Relax. I’m going to the bathroom,” she told him in a snotty tone as she stormed off in her fur coat and white evening dress, forcefully clacking her heels all the way to the service window.
Charles got out and started pumping the gas. It was a lonely old station in the middle of nowhere. Its rusty metal gas pumps looked as if they had been there for 50 years. The harsh florescent lights shining down from the white overhanging were the only illumination for miles.
He watched Valentina as she took the bathroom key from the service attendant through the payment slit at the bottom of the window. She glanced over at him, giving him a haughty look of displeasure for deciding to stop for gas, before she turned at the edge of the station and disappeared toward the restroom.
Charles finished pumping the gas, tore off the receipt and got back into the car to wait for Valentina. After a few minutes, though, she still had not returned and he began to get worried. There were no other cars at the station and the attendant hadn’t left from his perch inside the lit convenience store. He waited a couple more minutes and then decided to go get her.
He marched briskly to the rear of the station. It was eerily quiet and there was no light at all. He squinted to find the door with the bathroom signage on it. He noticed it was slightly ajar but it was dark inside.
“Valentina?” he called out, but there was no answer.
He cautiously pushed open the door and reached inside to feel for the light switch. When he flipped it on, a lone bulb hanging from a wire lit up the empty room. The noisy sound of a ventilator built into the ceiling echoed out the door. Inside, there was just a white porcelain sink and a single toilet. The light blue paint on the walls was peeling off from years of neglect.
Charles looked back outside to see if his wife was there. It was pitch black out but there was nowhere else she could have gone. He squinted in the darkness at the empty back lot but all that was there was a large trash dumpster.
“Valentina?” he called out again. There was no reply.
He marched back to the front of the station to see if she might have returned around the other side, but she was not there and the passenger seat of his car remained empty. He approached the service window again to see if she had brought the key back. The attendant shook his head. He began to get frantic, wondering if something had happened to her. He yelled out her name again but there was no response. He rushed back to the rear of the station again and took another look in the lit restroom, but she was definitely not there. He took out his cell phone to try and call her as he ran back toward his car. He could hear the muffled ringing coming from inside the car before he even got to it. He looked through the window and saw her phone on the empty seat. He decided to have one more look in the rear of the station before he called the police.
He ran back to the empty back lot and called out her name again.
“Valentina!”
There was no response.
“Valentina!”
As he was about to turn around, he suddenly heard the sound of laughter coming from somewhere in the darkness. He looked in the direction where he heard it and suddenly saw his wife slip out from behind the trash dumpster. She glared at him, holding her stomach in a fit of hysterical laughter.
“You should have seen your face!” she gloated, as she casually strutted toward him.
He was absolutely furious.
“What the hell is wrong with you? What were you thinking?” he shouted at her. The sheer anger roiled through him.
“Relax,” she told him. “I just wanted to see what you would do if you really thought I was gone.”
She reached up to touch his face but he grabbed her by the arm through her fur coat.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” she pleaded, with a smirk still on her face.
He was so outraged at her stunt he could barely think straight.
“You want to find out what I’d do?” he yelled at her. “Well, I’ll show you.”
He suddenly wrapped his arm forcefully around her body and bent her over. She gasped, not knowing what he was doing. She stumbled forward and held onto him so she wouldn’t fall.
“What are you doing?” she exclaimed in a state of confusion.
She felt him grab a hold of her fur coat and throw it over her back. Before she even had a chance to react, he took a hold of her evening dress and tugged it up to her waist. The cold night air ran across her bare legs for a split second before she felt the palm of his hand start striking her ass. She couldn’t believe it. He was spanking her.
“Charles! What are you doing?” she shouted, struggling to free herself from the grip around her waist as he furiously spanked her bare ass over and over. The sounds of his hand slapping against her flesh echoed loudly through the empty lot. Her fur coat was practically falling over her head and all she could imagine was the attendant walking back there to hear what the noise was.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” she pleaded. “Just stop. Someone’s going to see.”
“Let them see,” he told her. “You’re the one who wanted to see my reaction.”
She squirmed in his arms, trying to get away. She never expected him to react like this. He was spanking her with all his strength and the stinging pain was really starting to hurt.
He suddenly heard the sound of someone walking around the side of the station. He pulled her up by arm forcefully and pushed her toward the open door of the restroom.
“Get inside, now,” he ordered her.
“Charles, please. I get it. You’re angry,” she protested. “But this is not the way to react.”
She watched as he came toward her in a moment of fury. His face was red with anger. She had never seen him like that and was sincerely scared. She lifted his hand and she thought he was going to strike her. She cowered away from him into the empty restroom.
“Turn around and bend over! Put your hands on the sink,” he ordered her.
He turned quickly, slammed the door shut and jammed the long metal lock through the slot. She just stood there, frozen in shock at his reaction. He turned back around toward her. The masculine rage on his face made her think he had a side to him that she had never seen.
“I said turn around and bend over!” he shouted again, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her toward the sink.
“Okay, okay,” she told him, her voice shaking in fear. She turned as he pushed her back down and she wrapped her hands around the edge of the cold dirty sink. She looked up in the mirror at him as took a hold of her once again, tossing her fur coat over her back and lifting her white dress to her waist. He gripped her firmly around her body with his arm and began to wail into her bare ass once again. She hung on tightly to the sink and tried to shift her legs away from the force of his palm landing over and over on her. He seemed he was striking her as fast and hard as he possibly could, as if some primal urge had taken over him to punish her.
Charles eyed his wife’s bare ass as he turned both cheeks bright red and listened to her plea for him to stop. She was still wearing her underwear, a thin white lace thong that looked obscenely delicate next to her bare, beaten butt.
“Do you say you wanted to see my reaction?” he yelled at her in scorn.
“I’m sorry,” she pleaded to him. She removed her hand from the sink and thrust it behind her to try to block his hand from spanking her. He grabbed her harshly by the wrist and forced her hand back onto the sink.
“Do you say you wanted to see my reaction?” he asked her again as he slapped her ass even harder. He was getting even more invigorated and turned on by the color of his wife’s bare butt. He looked up at her through the mirror for her response.
“Did you?”
“Yes, I did,” she confessed. “I asked for it,” she cried.
There was something about the way she said it that excited him immediately. The sight of her hunched over the sink with her fur coat and dress lifted over her waist was so graphic. He had never done anything like this. He suddenly took a hold of her lace panties and pulled them down. She looked back at him.
“What are you doing?” She tried to stand but he pushed her back down. She heard the sound of his belt buckle coming undone. “Charles,” she pleaded, “you can’t fuck me here.”
“Watch me,” he told her, glaring at her in uncontrollable excitement through the mirror. He quickly undid his belt and unzipped his pants. He pulled them down to his thighs and then took a hold of her. She struggled to shift her legs away from him and he wrapped his hand around her waist to pull him tightly against her.
She felt him push into her immediately and she looked up his contorted face. He held her by her waist and forced his cock deeply into her with a sudden thrust of his hips. She let out a muffled grunt from the mixture of pleasure and pain. She couldn’t believe how unrestrained he had become. Never in her life did she imagine him fucking her in a dirty public restroom in the middle of the night. His thighs slapped against her bare ass and she gripped her fingers tightly around the edge of the sink.
Suddenly, the sound of someone pounding on the door filled the room. They heard the voice of the attendant, yelling that they needed to come out. He pounded repeatedly on the metal door and it radiated through the room like the sound of violent machinery. Charles held her firmly and thrust himself into her with greater force. His thighs slapped harshly against her bare flesh. The intensity of it was intoxicating. The cacophony of sounds made it feel so raw and kinky. The pounding against the door was like a violent accentuation of her husband’s wild thrusting into her. She began to moan over and over, overwhelmed in the unrestrained pleasure of the moment. The jumble of noises, with its strange rhythm of banging and slapping and moaning, made her feel like she was hallucinating.
She glared at Charles’ contorted face as he took out all his pent up anger on her naked body. Even in the cool night, he was perspiring from the intensity of his motions. The cadence of his thrusting into her suddenly quickened and she knew he was able to come. He pushed it deep into her one last time, and then his body tightened up behind her. She felt his body tense up briefly and then relax in satisfaction. He grabbed her and pulled her close to him. His breathe was still heaving in and out of his body. She turned to him.
“I’m sorry, Charles,” she told him. “I didn’t mean to get you so upset.”
He caught his breath and their eyes locked.
“It’s alright. Just don’t let it happen again,” he told her hesitantly.
The man was still banging on the door. She reached down and lifted her panties back to her waist, and then let her dress and coat fall back down over her body. She reached up and kissed him.
“I love you,” she told him. There was such a strange vigor in the way she said it, as if she had found some new deep attraction to him.
He didn’t know what to say. He could barely think straight.