I pulled him out of my mouth. “Boobie.”
“Show me that you deserve to be called Boobie… suck this dick,” he demanded, and I was down for the challenge.
He stood with his legs shoulder length apart, grabbed my hair, and I shoved him back into my mouth. With his free hand, he slapped my ass while I sucked on him, pulling him out of my mouth as the saliva and nut fell from my lips.
“Shittt,” he gripped my chin, and looked down into my eyes. “Go deeper for me, baby… I want that jaw sore.”
From how tight the grip he had on my hair was, I could tell I was doing exactly what he wanted. The harder I sucked, the tighter the grip became. His eyes were glazed over, as he continued to allow me to suck and spit on his dick. My tonguetwirled around the shaft, while I sucked on the tip, running my tongue in the slit, while I stared up at him.
The room sounded like we were in here messing with balloons with how hard I was sucking him, completed with his grunts, and the occasional slap on my ass. His grunts turned me on, forcing me to go harder.
I never needed to ask if I was doing it good, because his grunts and hair pulling was enough. His body jerked, and I felt him pull away from me, spit falling down both sides of my mouth while he stared at me like a lion did an antelope.
He climbed onto the bed between my legs, as he eased my thigh up against the headboard, pressing forward slowly. His dick knocking at my front door, requesting permission to wreck me. I could feel him rubbing it up and down my wetness, as he stared down at me.
I clutched his forearms; he stroked his dick and dove right in, deeper, and as he held my thigh with one hand, the other one held my hips.
“Talk to me, Boobie,” his voice raspy, his beard nuzzling against my face, as he pushed deeper into me.
“Deeper, baby… shit… G.” I moaned out, as I tried to find anywhere to sink my nails into him, and he didn’t care.
His sole mission was to make me feel good and fill me with his babies. That’s all he wanted, and I was allowing him. Allowing him access into my heart and possibly put a child inside of me. Allowing him to love me and give me exactly what I feared having.
Love.
My words were all mixed up, and I couldn’t form the correct responses. He didn’t need a verbal response, because my body physically reacted to him. It craved him, and I suppose it had always craved him.
He pulled out of me slowly, and then sucked on my lips, as he pushed back into me. I held him around the neck, as I allowed him to shove his tongue into my mouth. It was hard to focus on the kiss because of what he was doing to my body.
“That pussy talking to me, Boobie… that pussy feeling good?” He grunted, as he held onto the headboard and delivered stroke after stroke.
There was no way for me to speak, because soon as I formed the words, I felt that big muthafucka being pulled out of me and pushed right back in.
“Fuck… you wet… all that mouth and you quiet now… talk now,” he demanded, and all I had were whimpers.
“Ba…. baby, uhm mm,” I moaned, while I dug my nails into his back.
He pulled his dick out and tapped it on my pussy. I felt like a fucking lake down there, because it was so wet. The wet slaps echoed through the room as he finally put my leg down and held my waist.
My body slammed into his, as I sucked on his neck to keep from screaming. In this moment, I wanted to scream so the entire neighborhood could hear me. Usually, I hated to sweat, but I welcomed this sweat.
Our bodies were pasted together like glue as I clung onto him. He pulled out of me and climbed off the bed and pulled me to the end. My body glided across the smooth sheets until I was where he wanted me.
Wrapping my legs around him, he picked me up and dipped me slowly, putting his dick inside of me. I held onto him, scared that he may drop me, but he planted his feet into the carpet, and he centered his back on the pole of the canopy bed as he held my ass, slamming me down on his dick.
I held onto him tightly, kissing his neck while I whined in his ears because he was focused. His chain slapped against his chest, while he continued to dip me down and then lift me up.
There was no sign of struggle in his eyes or his form as he held all of me. It was one thing for a man to say he could handle me, but another to actually witness a man handling me.
“All that mouth and all you doing is whining… why the fuck… you…so hardheaded,” he grunted, slamming me down harder with each word.
“I…I don’t know.”
How was I supposed to answer that question? Not right this second, while he had me feeling like I was on the moon.
There was no way I could answer him.
“Oh, you don’t know… you like making it hard for me, eh?”
