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I’m rutting. Rutting. Like a fucking beast.
I’m fucking going balls out into her over and over, listening to her yelp, wince and scream.
Pump, pump, pump.
Harder, harder, harder. More and more until her body shudders and offers me everything.
Fuck, I love her. With every bit of my soul. And every drop of cum in my balls.
The way her nails dig into my skin as I lay claim to her purity, now and forever, I know we are bound. I was obsessed before. But that was nothing. Now that I’ve taken her tight little cherry, there’s no going back.
The hunger inside of me takes over, both hands in her hair, holding her as I pull back and ram forward to the hilt, then freeze, feeling the tight perfection of her pussy.
Ho. Ly. Shit. I’m overwhelmed with the moment. My eyes burn as I savor this once in a lifetime feeling, her warm juices dripping out and down my balls as her pussy accepts me as its one and only.
But I’m being fucking selfish now. Now and always, she has to come first.
“Are you okay, baby?” I manage, feeling her clamping down as I hold myself as deep as her body can take.
She presses her lips together. Gives me a quick, pained nod. “More than okay.”
“Tell me.”
“It hurts. A lot.” She gives me a quick smile, then arches her neck, her head pressing into the floor. “But I like how it hurts. I don’t want you to be soft. I want you to be you. And I know you well enough, Dutch, to know soft is not what you are. Not right now.”
I’m the first and only one that will ever have her like this. The thought turns me more savage. She’s offering herself to me but it’s not enough. It will never be enough. That’s the fucking thing about worship. It’s never enough.
As she pants and whimpers, her body covered in a sheen of sweat, I hook my forearm under her and turn her over. I get her positioned on her knees, then pull my shirt off, needing more.
Always more.
“That bloody, battered little pussy isn’t finished. You knew wearing that dress, teasing me with no panties, no bra…you knew what was going to happen, didn’t you?”
I line my cock up with her opening, and again take a breath.
She looks back over her shoulder at me. Straight up perfection. “Yes.”
She moans as the tension starts to build again in my balls. I look down and see the hint of pink in my white cream, dripping out of her.
And there it goes. The last shred of control.
I plug that leak with my dick, shoving my cum back up inside her with a full, solid thrust down to my balls. I hold myself deep as I stake my claim, pumping my seed into her, and doggy fucking her like a man possessed.
Mine. All fucking mine.
CHAPTER 8
Daphne
When Dutch flipped me over like a blow-up doll and started at me again like some feral dog, I thought I was going to pass out.
With every thrust, stars danced in my eyes.
Air rushed from my lungs.
My body was pushed to the edge.
And I’m standing on the edge still.
And he’s still rock-hard.
He’s in charge and I love it. Love his power, his confidence, his experience. “Head down, arch your back. I need in there deep, baby.”
He’s already fucking his first round of cum in and out of me. His grunts intensify, his breathing tightens. The next delivery of his hot, sticky finish is coming soon. And I can’t wait.
Part of me knows that my utter irresponsibility in this moment should horrify me.
But it doesn’t. Not at all. I’m so turned on I’m not sure I’ll ever come down from this high. This sexy, steamy, yes-oh-yes high.
I turn my head, feeling the soft towels on the side of my face as his hips slap against my ass cheeks, his impossibly-huge dick seeming even bigger in this position and the weight of his hanging bull balls give my clit a slap with each forward thrust.
I just… I love this.
That same responsible, sensible part of me thinks I should feel dirty, or cheap, or short-changed—giving up my cherry to Dutch here in this closet on the floor. But like he said, we’re making memories. And this is one memory I will never forget.
Though I’m pretty sure the part about grandpa railing grandma for the first time won’t make it into the story we tell our grandchildren.
He adjusts his hips and a pulse of need shoots down my thighs. “God, Dutch, you’re deeper. How is that possible?”
He slides in what feels like another six inches, straight up into my belly as I turn my head just enough to catch his eyes, finding them focused completely on me. His lips are pulled back, showing his teeth, like he’s about to take a bite out of me. His eyes dart up then meet mine.
