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I nearly cry out in sweet agony when he swallows seven, eight, nine inches of his own dick down into his throat. Everything inside of me explodes watching him tease me—no, no, torture me—like this.
Denying me his dick! Motherfuck him!
His head bobs up and down the length of his shaft, then his mouth suckles on the head, licking around his sticky crown every so often.
Oh, God, yes…
What a beautiful sight!
I moan my appreciation. Ache with jealous delight in having a man with a big, long dick. Still I envy his mouth, wishing it were my own mouth engulfing him, my own tongue laving him.
My cunt muscles twitch, then contract, hungry for the thick heat of his seed. My mouth droops open in waiting anticipation, hoping he’ll be generous enough to share his cum with me. Instead he pulls his wet, shiny dick from out of his mouth and straightens himself, pulling his underwear back up over his hips; most of his dick is now exposed out from the top of his waistband, pressing along the ridges of his stomach.
I moan in protest, but he only scowls at me, squeezing his swollen cockhead. “This muhfuckin’ dick is angry as fuck. It’s ready to beat you the fuck up.”
Yes, yes…beat me, daddy! Fuck my pussy up good…
Marcel leans down and exhales. His breath spreads over my throat, heating my skin and spreading over my breasts. “You disappoint me, Marika; real shit.” He caresses my nipples. “I can’t believe you let some unstable broad get all up in your head like that. I thought we were stronger than that.”
He speaks so low and slow as he rolls my nipples between his fingers that I am struggling to concentrate on what he is saying. Besides, my mind is still on the imageries of him sucking his own dick, and the idea of him beating my pussy up.
“I—”
He twists my nipples. “Not one fuckin’ word. Talking to me is what you should’ve been doing earlier instead of comin’ at me all crazy.” He plucks my nipples. “You don’t get to say shit now.”
“Marcel, baby…”
“You will speak when I’m ready to hear you,” he whispers against my ear. Then murmurs something in French as he twists and pinches my nipples.
I groan as an agonizing heat swallows me whole. I reach between my thighs to soothe the ache pounding in my clit.
“Nah, fuck that, Marika. Get ya hands away from your pussy. That’s my muthafuckin’ pussy. You don’t get to touch that shit. Ya ass gonna suffer.”
Reluctantly, I abandon the wet space between my legs.
Then he tells me to place my hands behind my back and cross them at the wrists. Sweet Jehovah. I do as I am told. Allow him to bind my hands together with the scarf.
My toes curl. And then a groan gets caught in the back of my throat when Marcel pulls out a crop. A crop!
Oh, God!
I search my lust-hazed brain trying to recall when he’d gone into our toy chest and retrieved it, or if it had already been out in the open. I can’t recall.
“What you did was fucked up. But you gonna learn tonight, baby.”
My inner walls clench.
I will never resist him.
Never.
Marcel knows this.
His sexy lips curl as he runs the heel of his palm over the length of his straining bulge. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his already big dick so thick—so, so, huge. Not like this.
“Marcel, if you’d just let me—”
His gaze on me darkens. “I told you to keep ya mouth shut, and you still running it, right?”
