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He lifts my legs up, folding them into my chest. Somehow, this heightens my sensation even more, causing me to moan out loud again. There’s no way that we’re not going to be caught, but the idea of someone catching us while my husband eats my pussy in a limo feels more like a reward than a punishment.
“You really like that, don’t you?”he asks.
“Yes, yes, I fucking love it,” I reply in a breathy, raspy voice.
He continues eating my pussy, sucking on my clit lightly at first. The delicate feeling of his mouth on me creates a consistent, taunting heat that begs to be unleashed. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“You’re not allowed to cum until I say you are,” he whispers. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
It’s as if this very threat is enough to bring me back to the surface of an orgasm all over again. He insists that I’m not allowed, but he won’t stop until I do. It’s a double-edged sword that I would fall on to my death if he wished.
I try to focus, intentionally taking my attention away from the intense heat burning in my lower belly, between my legs.
But there is nothing to focus on.
All I can think about is him.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he says as he slides his fingers back inside of me.
“Fuck, please,” is all I can say before my biology turns on me.
I cum again, this time harder than the last, creating another deluge that soaks the front of Adas’s shirt.
He doesn’t put his hand over my mouth this time, and I start to moan louder as the contractions take over again.
My mind is blank, nothing but blackness and the split-second glimmer of a thousand golden threads. My veins feel as though they’re filled with some sort of otherworldly narcotic, an injection of pure, blinding beauty to relieve my earthly suffering.
“You knew you weren’t supposed to cum,” he says angrily.
“I know, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help it,” I reply, feeling my body reacting to his authoritarian tone.
He spreads my legs further apart and slaps my pussy.
I cry out in pain and arousal, afraid that this unfamiliar sensation will cause me to cum again without his permission.
“That’s what you get for being naughty,” he says under his breath, spanking my pussy again even harder.
My clit throbs with every impact, making me feel just as slutty as he thinks I am.
Another slap, another indignant whimper.
My pussy is red and pulsing now, and I look up at him with needy eyes as he rubs my clit lightly again, just to tease me some more.
“Do you need some air?” Adas asks, taking off his overshirt.
I nod again, wordlessly begging for something as constant and unchanging as air in a space so saturated by sexual energy.
He rolls down the window, and I ease myself up and pull myself towards it. I stick my head out, filling my lungs with the crisp chill of the night.
Before I’m able to come back to reality, I feel Adas lifting my skirt up completely, exposing my bare ass and pussy to anyone who can see into the limo.
That same exhibitionistic streak in me livens at the idea of it all, allowing a captive audience to watch me slowly dissolve in my most vulnerable state. I want someone at a stoplight to see my face as Adas pounds my pussy, choking me and pulling my hair as he reclaims his bride.
The second I feel his cock enter me, I whimper again. He’s so big that his dick presses against my cervix, potentiating the intensity of my g-spot as he hits it.
He’s holding onto my hips now, reaching his other hand around to my throat and choking me just as I’d wanted him to. We really are so in sync with each other. It’s amazing to me that we can connect like this so easily while hardly saying a word.
Starting slow again, he slides his cock in and out of me as if he needs to stretch me out. I love the idea that my pussy is just a little too tight for him, that he needs to warm me up before he can fuck me properly.
