“Fuck love you’re so damn tight. I’m breaking you, aren’t I? Maybe I should worry it hurts, but I think you like that, don’t you?”
I whimper my assent, and he’s right, there’s some pain but that’s also a part of the pleasure, a part of this sick and perfect sex we’re having. He’s glassy and intense as he fills me grinding in and controlling me, and I’m building to ecstasy again, the glow like white-hot iron in the back of my head, riding up my core, breaking as his cock spreads me wide.
“You feel like heaven love, god damn, I want to fuck you until you break. I want to feel you shatter on my dick, and when you’redone, make you suck it clean. You like that, don’t you? Being all dirty and lovely for me?”
I nod eagerly, breathing hard through my nose, and his thrusts get fast. I moan, choking, and have to spit the panties out as the orgasm starts to build. He takes the wet underwear, but instead of putting it between my lips again, he bites down on them tight, eyes blazing.
That breaks me, seeing my sopping underwear in his teeth.
I shatter all over his dick, bliss exploding along my skin. He moans, fucking me, filling me up deep, thrusting harder and harder as my orgasm peaks, my fingers digging into his couch, and as it feels like I can’t take anymore, he pulls out with a cry of bliss.
One hand strokes his dick and the other covers the tip with my panties.
He comes in my old underwear, watching me as he does it, moaning the most sensual, incredible sound I’ve ever heard.
When he’s done, he sits back for a moment, breathing hard.
Then he takes one foot, kisses the heel?—
And starts to slip the cum-and-spit covered underwear on.
“Hold on,” I say in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“I want you to put these on.” He slips them over my other foot, pulls them to my ankle. “You’re going to wear them into my bedroom. I want you to feel my cum between your legs. Then I’m going to rip them off you, shove them in your mouth again, and fuck you until you scream.”
I let out a giddy, shocked laugh. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious, love. That or you can go home. We can stop whenever you like.”
I stare at the panties as he moves them up my hips. This is so freaky and weird, I should stop it right now.
But it’s the way he’s looking at me, the tone of his voice, the sheer desperation and desire that keeps me from running into the hall screaming at the top of my lungs.
He’sdesperatefor me. He wants this so badly it's killing him. And that only makes me need this even more.
I raise my hips, inviting him.
He slips the underwear on.
They feel gross. They’re wet, spitty, cummy, and don’t fit that well anymore.
But he leans back and looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Stand up,” he pleads, hand already stroking himself.
His dick’s still half hard.
I get off the couch and stand in front of him. I cover my breasts with my hands and twist, looking down at myself. The crotch is soaked and the ass is ruined. “I’m not sure these are going to survive a wash if I’m honest.”
“I’m never going to fucking wash those again, love.” He bites his lip hard. “Walk. Please.”
“You’re really loving this, aren’t you?”
“You look fucking perfect. Please, love.Walk.”
It’s the begging that kills me. I think I could ask him to burn himself and he’d do it out of sheer desperation. I take a few steps, teasing, and look back. It’s strange, but I feel more sexual, more beautiful, more in control than I’ve ever felt before in my life.
He stands, fist around his cock.
