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Ayla shivered as she felt his tongue, and lips, working their way up and in, closer and closer to the boiling cauldron between her legs. Far below, between buildings, she could see a sliver of the street, brake lights on cars and groups of people walking, indistinguishable from one another over the distance.
She focused on them and tried to relax. Her fight or flight response was screaming somewhere in the back of her psyche, but her, “I want to get fucked so badly; every molecule of my body needs an orgasm more than it ever has in my entire life” dial had been turned up past 10 to 1,000, stifling her good sense and typically boring, cautious approach to life.
When Mick’s tongue finally reached her sexual vault, slowly covering her opening with a long, luxurious lick, she stiffened and bit down on her forearm to stifle a scream.
Mick lapped at her pussy, savoring the flavor of her need. His hands circled her thighs, palms softly caressing her legs as Ayla’s hips softly rolled and bucked back against his handsome face.
She was being worshipped by his mouth, slow, passionate swirls of decadent ecstasy. She found herself making guttural, hedonistic sounds of satisfaction from a place she didn’t know she had; rutting herself on him.
Mick’s mouth had coaxed her open, and now he was inside her, probing, thrusting in deeper and deeper. She could feel his nose between the cheeks of her ass, bumping up against her most private place each time he went deeper with his tongue. Goosebumps covered her flesh.
As her climax drew near, Ayla even reached back with her hand to find the back of his head, pulling him in tighter so that no mistake would be made in the approach to her orgasm.
She needed to come more than she needed to breathe.
Mick felt the urgency in her hand, clutching at his head, tangled in his hair, and he consumed her, redoubling his efforts to reach her center.
All her muscle tensed and she undulated like a snake, her body gone liquid as she came greedily, wantonly smothering his face.
The eruption did nothing to dissuade him; rather it inspired him to extend and intensify Ayla’s pleasure. He took hold of her hips and pulled her back, French kissing her sex throughout the climax, as it rolled from one into an immediate second.
Her knees buckled, but he was there to help her maintain her balance, lifting her gently back into position. She looked down and back, at her own right leg and behind, and Ayla watched him rise to his feet, the stranger’s brown pants pooling around his shoes, followed by his black boxer briefs.
Her insides were still twitching with post-orgasmic contractions when Mick entered her. The silken heat of her body stretched to envelop his powerful cock, causing Ayla to yelp as she adjusted to the fullness.
He slid in slowly, once, twice, then on the third thrust he went fast and hard. Mick licked his lips, throbbing hard as he tasted her anew.
There was nothing gentle about the way he pounded he
r; it was done by virtue of pure, animal instinct.
Mick Merryweather fucked her like some great beast who had selected the female in the jungle that would sire him the best offspring. He chose her, separated her from the pack, and took her. He bent her body to his will and claimed her. She wanted it, craved it, but ultimately her desires were secondary to his. To his cock. He needed to fuck her, and that was that.
Ayla was a limp, sweaty, aching ragdoll. The world around her was out of focus and irrelevant. All that mattered was a place deep inside her that was being battered by her lover’s long, thick cock. His hands held her hips in place, pulling back as he thrust forward, his cock punishing her.
Ecstasy shattered her, orgasms overwhelming Ayla Murray in a way she’d never known or dreamt of. Her head hung in complete sexual submission to the powerhouse who was fucking her, and she hissed encouragement at him.
“Never. Stop. Fucking. Me!”
Mick certainly didn’t want to, but the way her inside clutched at him and massaged his shaft every time she climaxed was driving him inevitably toward his own orgasm. He’d never felt anything like the way she clung to him; the tight grip of her young, clenching pussy around his cock.
He was helpless to resist what her body was urging him to do. Her voice begged him to keep going, to pound and pound her delicious body, but her body sent a different message. A clear, primal desire to receive him fully; for him to cement their bond by releasing inside of her. Becoming part of her.
Mick’s thrusts became jarring, a runaway freight train slamming into her again and again. The breathless groans he made were the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard. As she neared the pinnacle again, she felt the first jets of him emptying himself into her. His orgasm triggered her most powerful climax yet, and they quaked, pulsed, and flexed together, their hearts jackhammering as one.
He leaned over her, arms extended past her shoulders, his hands landing atop hers. He was still inside her, gently thrusting, his orgasm slowly subsiding.
Ayla felt his kisses on the back of her neck between his ragged breaths. Her entire body felt like a raw, open nerve ending. She needed to be very still as she recovered. A trickle of sweat rolled down her left cheek.
A feeling of bliss like she’d never known washed over her.
She turned her head just enough to catch his eye, and both of them broke into silly grins and laughter. He squeezed her hands and eased himself deeply back inside, as far as she could, and felt him throb powerfully. Each time Mick’s thick cock did that, she squirmed and whimpered. From the inside out, he owned her.
She was already hopelessly addicted to his body.
He withdrew and she stretched like a cat and turned, straightening her dress before standing up on tiptoes to kiss the man who’d just gifted her with ecstasy beyond her wildest dreams. The kiss he gave her was rich and full. When it broke, they just stared into one another’s eyes.
Mick leaned down and rested his forehead gently against Ayla’s. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, do you know that?” he asked.
