Dorothy had a thing for big dumb men. She liked men who would take her to UFC matches. Brutality in a ring. She liked the bloodlust. She loved the sweat. The big dumb men would take her home and pound her like a piece of meat.

Alice was raised in a strict religious home. She wasn't allowed to touch herself, because good girls didn't do that. Her entire body screamed for sex, but her conscience told her she was a bad girl when she touched herself. It made for a combustible mixture. Alice was sent away to a Christian university, where she immediately hooked up with a nice looking young pastor's son for the most freaky sex either of them could have imagined. Twenty years of torment, unleashed. He got her pregnant a week after meeting her. They were forced to leave, got married, had babies, took jobs wherever they could, and screwed every day and every night.

Dorothy didn't give two fucks about religion. She liked men, and she liked their cocks. If they had a car and a good job, she was happy. She could make any man respond. That was how men were built. She knew the rules of the game. Men were attracted to women in a more or less indiscriminate manner. She knew this, and so she had her choice. She liked them, and they liked her. She never understood women who were coy, who had rules about dating and petting and when to go to bed and when to give blowjobs. They were clearly fucked in the head, as she so delicately put it.

Alice hated what her church had made her. She thought of herself as a whore. Not in the sense that she was a tramp. She still loved Brian, her husband. He was a good man, and she was true to him. No, she hated needing him so much. When she saw him all she wanted to do was unzip his pants and jump on top of him. She liked riding him, grinding against him just so that the tip of his cock was rubbing against that sweet little spot inside her. Sometimes she made him put his hand over her mouth so she could scream. Her young breasts would swell with blood and her nipples got rock hard as she rode to one climax after another. She could do this for an hour and climax three or four times. Some nights Brian just wanted to come home and fall sleep, but she'd stroke him to hardness and climb on top, or if he pushed her away, she'd head into the living room with the lights out and masturbate frantically until she was finally calmed down enough to fall asleep.

Dorothy thought religion was a farce. Her daddy disappeared after he knocked up her mama, and Dorothy watched her mother date one loser after another. She'd been invited to the local Baptist church, but when a deacon found out who her mama was and assumed the daughter was white trash, he cornered her in the basement and felt her up. She kicked him in the balls and threatened to call his wife. Church was full of men who screwed women other than their wives. She hated the way they looked at her. She stopped going to church when she began menstruating.

Alice stopped asking God why He cursed her with an insatiable sex drive when she was 23. She'd been married for four years. In that time they'd had two babies and separated twice. Brian was almost as horny as she was. Sometimes she'd drive the babies to Brian's garage and leave them in the baby seats while she met Brian in the alley for a quickie against the brick wall. He was still in his overalls. She'd go home with grease spots on her tee shirt, where Brian grabbed her breasts roughly. She didn't mind. She'd wash her clothes and his every day and rub her crotch against the washing machine while she remembered that afternoon's session.

Dorothy dated football players and baseball players in high school. They were strong and knew how to take care of themselves. The guys would host boxing matches, bare-knuckles brawls inspired by Fight Club. The boys would sweat and bleed, their faces turned to hamburger sometimes. The guys with purple shiners on Monday mornings were the guys who went to those parties. She dated those guys. When she was with them, she felt safe and protected. The first time she had sex was in the back seat of someone's Geo Metro, with a guy who was still bleeding from his fight. She found out she was turned on by the sight of blood. She licked his face and squirted all over his pants. He grabbed her hair and fucked her hard, and she discovered that she liked that. Strong guys, tough guys, big hands, dumb, simple, uncomplicated. Nobody fucked with these guys. As long as she was with someone like that, she was safe.

After four years, Brian had had enough of Alice. He had to admit to himself that she was too much for him. Her sex drive put his to shame. He could never rest when he was home. Alice was a good woman, a great cook, smart, wonderful with the kids, but her hot box was too demanding for him. One weekend he slipped away and took the kids and went home to his parents. Alice woke up on a Sunday morning and found him gone. She ran to the children's bedrooms, and they were gone too. She screamed. Then she cried. She cried and cried, and that night she fell asleep without a man, in an empty bed.

Dorothy married a cop. That lasted four years and three black eyes. Then she stayed single for seven years and had a string of boyfriends. They all lived with her, because she was terrified of living alone. It would last a few months, and then she'd throw their clothes out to the curb and slam the door. After seven years she was still good looking enough to snag a catch: an ex Special Forces guy. When he got drunk he'd get real quiet, and the guys shooting pool would know enough to leave him alone. He always wore long sleeved shirts to cover up his tattoos. Close cropped hair. The women at the bar whispered that he had muscles like you wouldn't believe, still, at his age, even though he was starting a beer gut. Dorothy knew how to play him. She respected his moods, and she never touched him from behind.

Alice didn't want to date. She wanted Brian's cock, and only his. She liked the way he smelled. She liked the way he needed her, at least in those first few years. She cried every night for six months and went insane with longing. Vibrators didn't help. Her fingers didn't help. She cried when she thought she would have to sleep with another man to get what she wanted. She cursed God, and she began hating her body and how much it needed sex.

He moved in with Dorothy after shooting pool with her for two weeks. That first night together was weird. He took Dorothy the way she liked - he was in control, and there was never any question about him getting what he wanted. The weird part was what happened next. He collapsed on top of her and cried. Sobbed, really. Then fell into a violent dream. He moaned and thrashed. She had to sleep on the couch to avoid being hurt.

Alice needed money. An escort service thirty miles away was run by a sharp-eyed woman with teased peroxide blonde hair, a woman with 50 hard years on her face. Alice started giving full body massages, which meant she was giving men handjobs. The first night she was almost fired. The second john was a fat guy with a straight cock that reminded her of Brian's, and when she began stroking him she dropped her panties and climbed onto him. Instead of him being grateful, however, he threw her off the table and yelled that he was only paying for a handjob, no more. Two minutes later the old lady burst through the door and sent Alice home. She didn't want Alice to do anything without charging the customer for it. Alice was a stupid, naive girl, straight from the farm. The woman had seen plenty of her type, feeling sorry for the men, and giving them blowjobs or more if they bought the men's lies about what they weren't getting at home. Alice went home and drank herself into oblivion. Her pussy was making her crazy. She'd been so close to getting off, so close.

Dorothy hadn't seen A.J.'s body that first night. He'd taken off his long sleeved shirt, but he left on his olive green wifebeater. She could feel the muscles of his arm, but she wanted to slide her hands down his front. When she slid her hands under his tank top, he grabbed her wrists and said, "Don't."

The madame's best girl was Alice. After a few months, when she discovered Alice's talents, she assigned her best all-night customers to Alice. Alice was, by reputation, incredibly enthusiastic in bed. She wasn't very creative, and there were lots of things she didn't do, but the thing she did do was let guys fuck her. If they liked mish posish, or they liked a woman on top, she would rock their world. Alice was making money, and she was getting screwed on a regular basis. She also discovered drugs and alcohol. When the madame saw the signs, she figured Alice would have a few more years, and she began pushing Alice to take more assignments. Alice got skinny. Her eyes were red. She stopped taking care of her hair and face. And her face showed no more emotion. There was no need, there was no hunger for approval, there was only flatness.

Dorothy found A.J. hanging by his own leather belt in the shower. After five turbulent months, he'd called it quits. Checked out. He couldn't handle the nightmares any more. His arms and legs had been broken after he'd been captured. They'd taken baseball bats to his spine. Cigarette burns all over his chest, particularly his neck and nipples. Dorothy had never, in five months, seen his torso until the morning she cut him down. His body was on the floor, his head back and mouth open. She peeled back his tanktop and saw the scars. That's when she cried.

Alice's last date was with a jealous man. She'd seen him every week for the last few months, and he begged and pleaded with her to become his girlfriend, to leave the business and to move in with him. She smiled her glassy-eyed smile and said, "Someday." He offered her safety, money, security. She could live with him. She could leave the other men. The danger of sexually transmitted diseases would be behind her. He wanted her all to himself. She smiled. She held his limp dick in her hand and then she laughed.

That's when he hit her. The first punch was to her mouth. Her mouth filled with blood. She collapsed. The second punch was to her face. Then he strangled her. The bitch. The ungrateful bitch. She could have left this and stayed with him, but no, she had to laugh at his limp dick. He wrapped his hands around her throat and squeezed. She offered no resistance. She opened her eyes just once. He told the police later that the look she gave him was one of gratitude.

Secret Santa Summer Nodeshell Challenge 2011

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