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“Don’t stop.” My voice is a ragged whisper. “I want to… want to feel it.” I want to know what it’s like to have him possess me in this way.
Marcus’s voice roughens, his fingers pressing harder on my clit. “Oh, you will, kitten. You will.” And gripping my hip with his other hand, he slowly works himself into me, letting me adjust to the extreme fullness inch by inch. When he’s all the way inside me, he pauses again, letting me get used to the sensation as he continues playing with my clit. Then, slowly and with great care, he begins to move, fucking my ass with a gradually intensifying rhythm.
“Oh God.” My hands knot into fists, my forehead dropping to the slick surface of the bench as my chest heaves with unsteady breathing. The push-and-pull of his thrusts is unlike anything I’ve known, both pain and a darker kind of pleasure. With my body so thoroughly invaded, I am his helpless sex doll, a slave to the agony-edged pleasure he’s evoking in my overwhelmed nerve endings. My insides feel like they’re being dragged back and forth with every stroke, yet a dizzying, electrifying tension is growing and coiling in my core. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my temples, smell the musk of sweat from our joined bodies, and as he leans over me, pinching my clit between his thumb and forefinger, I explode in the most intense orgasm of my life, the ecstasy blasting through me like a shockwave.
It’s so strong I see sparks behind my closed eyelids, and as I’m coming down to earth, I hear him groan hoarsely and feel the liquid warmth of his release inside my ass.
33
Marcus
My heart is like a runaway bronco in my chest, my lungs heaving like bellows from the orgasm. Forcing myself to remain upright, I carefully pull out of Emma and gather her limp body in my arms. She seems even more out of it than I am, so instead of bringing her to the shower, I gently arrange her in a sitting position on the bench and step over to the showerheads to wash myself before directing the spray her way.
The hot water seems to revive Emma slightly, and she blinks up at me, her auburn lashes dark and spiky as I pour body wash into my palm.
“How are you feeling, kitten?” Crouching in front of her, I pick up one small foot and start to wash it. “Did I hurt you?” I’d tried to go as slow as I could, but she’d been beyond tight, her ass sheathing my cock more snugly than any fist. A better man would’ve backed off, letting her be, but the savage animal inside me wouldn’t allow me to withdraw until I claimed her completely… until I felt her come while I was buried deep inside that luscious ass.
Her gaze goes to the lather I’m spreading over her toes. “I’m okay.” She seems mesmerized by what I’m doing, as if she has a little foot fetish… and fuck if I don’t find that idea hot.
“So I didn’t hurt you?” I confirm, rubbing her arch with my thumb, and sure enough, her eyes grow heavy-lidded, her toes curling as if I’m sucking on her clit.
“No. That is, um… not much.” She sounds like she’s having trouble concentrating, and I lift her foot higher, moving it under the water spray to get the soap off. When it’s fully rinsed, I bend my head and suck her toes into my mouth, watching her face the entire time.
Her lips form a shocked O, and her already-rosy skin flushes brighter.
I grin internally as I massage her foot while continuing to suck on those sexy little toes. Definitely a foot fetish going on, and not just on her end. Her feet are as tiny as the rest of her, all soft and pink and pretty, and I love playing with them, especially given the way she’s staring at me, like she can’t quite believe what’s happening but is about to orgasm anyway. I love that look on her so much that my cock, which should be completely out of commission, is stiffening again.
I repeat the lather-and-suck/massage treatment on the other foot, and when her breathing sounds like she’s scaled a mountain, I kiss my way up her leg and reward her with an actual clit sucking. After she comes, I pull her onto my now-erect cock and enjoy a long, delicious shower fuck, during which I make her come twice more.
As far as I’m concerned, there’s no such thing as enough orgasms for her.
34
Emma
If there’s such a thing as too many orgasms, I’m pretty sure I got there last night. Not only am I seriously sore in all sorts of places, but the entire day, I’m stumbling around like a zombie, yawning and chugging down coffee in a futile attempt to stay awake at work.
