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Oh my frigging God.
“Now drop to your elbows,” he commands.
I drop to my elbows and look through my legs. His cock is dripping with excitement and I close my eyes as I wait for his touch.
He pours some lube onto his hand and then slides it up his shaft. He slowly strokes himself as I watch on. His stomach muscles contract on the upstroke, and my sex clenches in appreciation. “Do you know how fucking turned on I am seeing you like this?” he whispers as he jerks his cock hard.
My stomach dances with nerves. He has that tone about him. He had it the first night we slept together at the gym, and he’s only had it a few times since.
It’s like he’s on the edge of control and at any moment he’s going to lose his mind.
The sound of the lubricant slaps against his hand, and I close my eyes. Even hearing himself wank is a fucking major turn on for him. He gives himself a beating before he walks over behind me and pushes me hard into the mattress. I land head first into the blankets. I know this is it.
He’s lost the last of his control.
It’s on.
He slides his lubricated fingers through my sex, his eyes lingering on his fingers as they disappear into my body.
I close my eyes, moaning softly, and he strokes his cock with the other hand, unable to wait. Then his tongue… it laps at me, his whiskers on my cheeks. His fingers are in my sex, and God…
I hold my breath as I begin to lose all composure.
For fifteen minutes, he brings me to the edge with his tongue, only to let me down again and deny me. My body is writhing on the bed, rippling as I try to get the traction that I need. His cock in his hand the whole time, taunting me as he strokes it.
Fuck’s sake. Brock Marx is the hottest man in the history of men.
Watching him jerk himself off is driving me wild with need. My body is quivering, and I have to fight to keep myself on my knees. Then I hear him flip the cap on the bottle of lube, and I close my eyes.
Here we go.
He warms it in his hand and then rubs it into my behind, sinking his finger into the knuckle. I hear his sharp intake of breath.
“Oh,” I moan.
It’s such a weird sensation. I hate the thought of it… but fuck, does it feel good.
He massages me some more, adding another finger inside. My eyes roll back in my head as he begins to work me.
Oh dear God.
He grabs my hip in his hand and gently begins to rock me back onto his fingers to get me used to the sensations.
I want to moan in pleasure, but it feels so damn naughty, like I shouldn’t be enjoying this.
He applies more lube, and then I feel the tip of his cock at my back entrance.
“Pock,” he whispers.
“Yes.”
“You okay, baby?”
“Uh-huh.” I nod, although I’m not quite sure I really am.
He pushes forwards, and I close my eyes and try and block out the burn.
Fuck…!
The pressure and weight of his body forces me into the mattress, and I screw up my face in pain. He pushes in again, and this time the air is knocked out of my lungs. “Argh,” I whimper.
“Nearly there,” he whispers. “That’s it.” He reaches around and with his four fingertips massages my wet clitoris. I instantly feel the pain begin to disappear.
Fuck, my eyes are rolling back again.
He adds two more fingers to my sex, and he begins to pump me until the last of my body’s resistance disappears and he slides deep inside my body.
We both cry out, the pleasure taking over us, and he leans down to kiss me gently on my shoulder.
“You okay?”
I nod, and he grabs a handful of my hair, dragging my face to his. His mouth takes mine and he kisses me deeply. He slowly pulls out and then slides back in. Then again… slowly… now faster.
Oh God, he has complete possession of my body
He turns my head straight ahead. “Watch us,” he whispers darkly.
I turn to the mirror to see myself naked on my knees on the bed with my legs spread wide. Brock is behind me and he has my ponytail wrapped around his hand while he’s fucking my ass.
I can see every ripple in his abdomen clench as he thrusts. His body has a perfect sheen of perspiration over it, and I swear to God, I have never seen or felt anything so damn good in my life.
With one hand on my hip and one hand full of my hair, he rides me. He works harder and harder until our skin is slapping and his head is tipped back in ecstasy. “Oh, fuck,” he cries. “This is too fucking good.” His eyes drop to the spot where our bodies meet. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He pumps me, and then he growls, and I scream out as a freight train of an orgasm tears me to shreds and he holds himself deep inside of me. His whole body begins to quiver as he slowly empties himself into me, and eventually whispers, “I’m going to pull out, Pock.”
