Page 19 of The Virgin Market


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Damien is dragging me down to hell, and I want to burn to embers in those flames. I need to feel every moment of whatever torture he has to offer.

He smiles at me, something wicked and telling…but telling what exactly I don’t know.

He lowers his face to my pussy, and he brings a hand to my throat. Squeezing just enough to get me high from his touch, I grind my pussy all over his face. My legs dangling off the table pull him in closer. I ride his face, rolling my hips and diving into him and up to get the delicious feel of his tongue on and around my clit. Damien licks my pussy so good that I want to cry. Cry from the pleasure. Cry from the need to come and being so close but not yet there.

And I cry. I have to. If I’m not releasing the tension, I have to release the agony. I’m doing my best to not come, and he’s licking my pussy so good I want nothing more than for him to keep it up and to let me come. I’m a breath away from just letting myself come. This is wicked and cruel. But I need him. I need him so damn bad and I fear now that if I disobey him by coming that I’m going to lose any chance at him touching me. I know enough now to know that if he were to spank me now, I would come, despite how strange that is to me.

So I cannot risk that he’ll stop touching me, stop licking my pussy, or that he’ll spank me if I come.

“I can’t!” I yelp out. “I”m going to come if you keep licking my pussy, it’s too good,” I moan out.

At that exact moment, Damien flattens out his tongue and tickles it against my clit.

I scream. I scream like I’m dying. He pulls me down on his face and eats my pussy with a ferocity that makes me legs shake hard around him, as if I might be having a seizure. His hands capture me and dig into my skin and he is wringing every drop of pleasure out of me.

Gasping, I try to hold back. I try so damn hard. I want to come, but I don’t want to end this. I don’t want to disobey him.

“Damien! Please don’t…I will…if you…” I try to protest. Every breath I take runs me through a cycle of intense pleasure heightening more and more and I am crying out to keep myself from going over the edge. I can’t. I won’t. “I want to be good!” I cry out pleadingly, and I realize that he’s running his tongue teasingly over me now, inhaling me and making me that much closer to the feather’s breath away from the edge.

Pulling down to sit on his chest, Damien relents for only a moment. “You are being so good. I’m going to let you come,” he says with a smile.

I’m elated, grinning wide and stupid like I’ve never heard anything better in my life. Oh thank heavens I’m going to get some relief!

My pussy is slick, and I see how much of my arousal is all over his face. I’m ready to explode, and then he’ll have my cum drenching him. Oh God. Is he going to fuck me now?

A few seconds pass and I wonder, why is he just watching me?

“You said I could come!” I say, whimpering.

“Now, you were being so good, Sarah,” Damien laughs. “I didn’t say I would let you come today,” he says and gives me the most volatile smile I’ve ever seen in my life.

I want to cry out, scream, beat my fists against his chest, climb back onto his face and ride him until I come. Maybe I should slide down and ram his cock into me and come that way. Taking my virginity and my orgasm like I desperately need to.

But I don’t. I say nothing. I try to breathe and keep myself from exploding from the sheer amount of desire flooding through my body. I do nothing.

“So impressive, Sarah. You’re learning very well. I will let you come tonight, but you’re going to have to promise that you’re going to come in the future only when I allow you to. You showed incredible strength holding off now. You’ll need to that from now on. In fact, going forward, you’ll also need to cum when I say so. Would you like to try that part out now?”

I nod vigorously, that’s exactly what I want.

Damien slaps my cheek, hard enough to make me yelp. “I want you to answer me when I ask you a question. Don’t make me rescind my kindness.”

“Yes, yes, Damien,” I say quickly. “Please…and thank you,” I say with every bit of politeness I can muster. Emily Post doesn’t exactly cover this, though I get the feeling that she should add a chapter.

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