Page 61 of Brutal Lies


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I lift my arms up as Bryce pulls my shirt over my head. I watch as my clean shirt falls onto the filthy carpet. Why did I bother to try? I’m not that girl. I’m the one wearing a low-cut black bra. His hand squeezes my breast through my bra, and I lean onto his shoulder, arching my back as I moan. His hand slides over the strap, baring my skin even more, and he kisses my shoulder as he unhooks the clasp.

“Everywhere he touches you, I touched you first.” His voice is husky as his hand moves to my other breast, pulling down the cup. My bra lies on the floor on top of my shirt, and my pussy is tingling as he runs his hands over my breasts.

I close my eyes as he grabs them and tugs them upward, squeezing them firmly in his hands. Pulling upward, his thumbs slide over my nipples and make them tight. Bryce never lets go and repeats the motions. I turn my face toward him, and Bryce frowns, but it’s far from hate. He’s as turned on as I am as my lips brush against his. I let out a small oh and part my lips.

“I only have an hour,” I whisper when we release the kiss.

“Do you want to leave now?”

I shake my head and moan. “No, keep convincing me to stay.”

Bryce buries his head in the curve of my neck, holding onto me as if he won’t let me leave. I feel his hot breath as he inhales against my skin, and then Bryce moves gently toward my cheek until his lips touch mine. His tongue seeks mine, and a sensation tingles across my skin as his fingertips pinch my hard nipple. I push his hand away as the sensation becomes too much.

His breath is ragged as he touches my thigh. “Why don’t you take these off?”

Bryce kisses the nape of my neck as I slide my leggings and panties down, and they fall to the floor.

“Do you have a condom?” I whisper, but he hears me.

“Not for this.” His hand reaches under me, and his thumb passes over my other hole.

I have let other boys do it as a compromise for us both. I wanted to release, but the thought of getting pregnant dampened my willingness. On the pill, I don’t have to worry as much anymore, but Prof Harmon is right. They should be willing to do more. I stand up off his lap.

But he knows which one he wants as he pulls lube out of his school bag.

“You thought about this,” I quip.

“All the time,” Bryce pulls off his clothes, leaving his jeans for last. His hard cock bounces as he yanks off his briefs. And I bite my lip as he strokes his thick cock with lube. He grabs my wrist, pulling me closer, and places his finger on my soaked slit.

Bryce grins as he strokes me. “And it feels like you’ve been thinking about it too.”

He kisses me and maneuvers me back toward the couch. Nothing is going to distract Bryce from his purpose, and for a fleeting moment, I wonder what that purpose is. Does he want me, or does he want to piss off Pierce?

He guides me down onto my hands and knees and kneels between my open thighs. I rest my chest on the worn cushions. His breathing is heavy as he pulls up behind me. His fingers rube lube into the crease of my ass. My breath shifts to short blasts in anticipation of him entering me. I wince as Bryce pushes into me. I take deep breaths, relaxing my body with each strong push. His hands gently stroke my slit, not enough to excite but enough to relax me as pain and pleasure create a delicious mix.

I peek over at the mirror in the corner and watch as his thick head slides into me. I grimace from the pain, but what will follow makes me stay still. His moves are slow and deliberate as his thumbs dig into my round cheeks. Bryce won’t let up until he’s deep inside me.

Noticing my expression, he stares into the mirror but doesn’t let up as his hands grip me tighter. He eases a little more in with each slow push. I fist the cushion with my hands and hold steady, waiting for that moment when it’s easy to take him all in. Bryce pulls back out and pushes back in, his cock glistening with lube. My eyes flutter shut as he passes the point, and I feel so full.

“You feel good,” he whispers, “I want you to feel good too.” His hands move over my ass, squeezing me as he moves. He pulls back, and I whimper, but then I moan as he moves deep inside me again.

I place my forehead down on the stinky couch, and a long, slow moan slips out of my mouth. He fills me as I cover my pussy with my hand. My fingers dance over my slit, and I tease a finger inside, gently touching myself as the intensity builds.

“You’ll think about me,” he whispers, “you’ll lie in bed with your hand between your legs while he sleeps, and you’ll think about me.”

I can’t answer as my lips form a big Oh. I lengthen my back, pushing my hips into him as Bryce fills me. I move my chest slowly against the scratchy cushion, making it bite into my nipples. My breath goes ragged as he spreads me apart with wide inches. I lift my chin and let out a moan, letting Bryce know how good it feels. My body twists and writhes as his long strokes punish me, and I lean my ass back for more.

His fingers push mine away. “Cum while I’m deep in you. I want to feel it.”

“Do you talk to them?” I whisper between moans. “Do you tell them what sounds I make?” My head swims as all the tingles combine into one. My hand grips and releases the cushion as my reason falters, and my body shakes with an orgasm that rips out of my core.

I can’t speak as my body tenses up into a ball of electrified nerves. I gasp and let out a howl as he plunges into me again; his fingers curl in my pussy as he touches the best spot. I curse as I cum again; a string of expletives races out of my mouth. Bryce holds me tight as his hips keep pushing into me from behind.

The small room is humid with our sweat as he rests his damp forehead on my shoulder. Soon, Bryce starts to move again as he eases in and out until a moan bubbles up from his throat. His control over me has returned, and I lie still as he moves slowly, building a rhythm as he lifts his chest off me. He pins me facedown to the couch with his hand on my shoulder. I tease him, wiggling my ass as he sucks in air. His hand moves down to my lower back, slowing the pace and taking back control.

“We talk,” he groans. “We talk about how much we love to fuck you.”

I scoff. “You wouldn’t want me if you couldn’t fuck me.”

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