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It takes me a minute before I realize I’m babbling, begging him to stop. “Please, please Carson. No more. I’ll be good, I promise. No more.” At this point I can’t even remember why he’s punishing me, all I can feel is a combination of pleasure and a sensitivity that’s verging on pain. His full day’s growth of beard has been rubbing my inner thighs and pussy raw, only ratcheting up the overwhelming sensations.
It takes quite a while but I’m convinced I have no more orgasms left to give, just when I think he’s about to give up, he attacks my clit once again, rolling it with his tongue relentlessly and I’m begging all over again. Now, I’m not sure if I’m begging him to stop or keep going.
He takes my engorged and oversensitive clit between his teeth and gently bites down. I cum so hard all I see is white, or maybe that’s just the pillow my head is buried in. All I can do is ride out the waves of pleasure that course through my veins.
When I finally come down from my orgasmic high, Carson releases me. If it wasn’t already buried into the pillow, I would have fallen forward onto my face. He gets out from underneath me and gently rolls me onto my back. I can’t even speak at this point. I’m just gasping for air and staring up at him.
His face is slick and shiny, he’s covered in me. I should be embarrassed, I really should, but I’m too tired and sated for that. My eyes start to close but Carson lifts one of my legs causing them to fly open again. “You didn’t think we were done yet, did you sweetheart?”
All I can do is whimper. He’s between my legs and at some point, he must have shimmied out of his pajama bottoms because all I see is his cock standing almost straight up, red and angry looking, slick with his own precum. “Look at you, you’re a mess,” he says, staring between my legs. “Do you think you’ve had enough?” I follow his eyes down to my pussy and see that it looks red and swollen from his efforts. I reach down to touch myself and it’s so sensitive I can’t help but blanch.
“No. I can’t,” I beg him.
“You owe me one more,” he counters.
I try to muster any defiance I have left in me and tilt my chin away from him. “I don’t owe you anything.”
He just grins and doesn’t say a word as he plunges his cock deep inside me. I wasn’t expecting it and my sensitive pussyfeels like it’s being rubbed raw. I can’t tell if what I’m feeling is pleasure or pain. Then he seals his lips against mine and plunges his tongue into my mouth. I can taste myself on his lips, in his mouth, everywhere. I never thought that would be something I would like but with him, it’s a complete turn on. He’s pounding into me, and my hips are meeting his every thrust.
“I’m not going to last long babe, your pussy was too delicious.” His hand moves down, and he places his thumb over my clit applying steady pressure. I can’t stand any more stimulation and come one final time. It’s not as sharp as the others, more like a warm sensation that flows through my entire body. I gasp for air instead of screaming and hold on tightly to his shoulders, anchoring myself so I don’t float away.
“Fuck,” he yells sharply and stills. I can feel his cock pulse inside me as I’m flooded with the warmth of his seed. It feels like it goes on for hours but I’m sure we’re only clinging together for moments.
Carson collapses onto the bed to the side of me, careful not to crush me under his weight. I can’t do anything but try and catch my breath while I stare blankly at the ceiling. I’ve never felt so satisfied in my entire life. I think he’s ruined me. How am I supposed to be with anyone else after this? Each time with him only gets better and better.
He raises off the bed and goes into the bathroom. This time I know he’s getting a washcloth to clean me up. When he reemerges, I let my legs fall open, too tired to argue about doing it myself. He gently presses the warm cloth to my core, and I let out a hiss which just makes him chuckle.
“It’s not funny,” I say, trying to glare at him, but I’m pretty sure I’m too exhausted to pull it off. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on the top of my mound, far from where it’s swollen, and for some reason that makes me want to melt.
Get it together, Bianca. We don’t get all goofy eyed over some dude. No matter how many orgasms he gives us.
I jerk up and scramble off the bed like it’s burned me and start searching the room for my clothes. I find my panties in a little heap next to the bed and quickly slip them on before spying my bra across the room.
“What are you doing?” He asks casually from his spot on his bed.
“Getting dressed,” I mumble while I try to squeeze my tits back into this ridiculous strapless bra.
“I can see that. Where are you going?”
“I’ve got to go home. I’ve got a bunch of stuff I need to do today.”
“You can stay, you know.” He says softly, drawing my eyes to him. “I’m going to make breakfast. You’re going to eat, aren’t you?”
For just a second I want to stay. I want to hang out with him and Oliver on a Saturday morning while I try to choke down whatever healthy crap Carson’s made. But it’s dangerous to think that way.
“I should really get going.” I start searching the rest of the room for my dress. Where is the damn thing? Carson clears his throat and I look over to where he’s now standing in the corner of the bedroom, my dress in one hand and heels in the other. “Thanks,” I mumble, grabbing them out of his hands.
Once I’m dressed, I rush out into the hallway and through the living room. I’ve almost made it to the front door when I hear, “Hi Bianca.” I come screeching to a halt and turn towards the voice, my heart beating out of my chest. Oliver is sitting on the couch with the cartoons playing quietly on the television.
I place my hand over my pounding heart. “Fuck, Oliver. You scared the shit out of me!” His eyes get big, and I realize what I just said as Carson enters the living room.
“You owe two dollars to the jar, Bianca!” Oliver says in a sing-song voice like catching me cursing is the highlight of his morning.
“Fine,” I grumble looking through my tiny clutch, hoping that maybe I tossed some money in there that I forgot about. “C’mon Oliver, nobody carries cash anymore.” I give him a frown before I’m struck by an idea and pull out my phone. “Do you take Venmo?” At his blank look I carry on. “PayPal? Zelle?”
I hear Carson’s deep chuckle from across the room and shoot him a glare where he’s leaning against the kitchen island. “Hey buddy,” he says to Oliver without taking his eyes off me. “I’ll cover Bianca this time. Pulling out his wallet he moves to the bookcase where there’s a jar overflowing with dollar bills. “We’re going to have to get a bigger jar.”
He stuffs them in before his body freezes. “Um, Oliver. Have you been moving things around in the bookcase?”
