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I spank her again, and again, sliding two fingers into her tight little cunt. She moans, loud and sultry, humping my hand, and when I pull it away, she humps the barrel.
Jesus, fuck.
While she grinds into the smooth wooden cask, I almost come in my pants like a schoolboy.
Her face is flushed and sweaty. She’s panting loudly.Struggling to finish.She’s close. So close.
I grab my phone and call Cristiano. “Get everyone the hell away from here. Now,” I bark, tossing the phone aside.
I lift her up and off the barrel. Cradling her head while capturing her mouth with mine until I can’t breathe.
“I want you to straddle the barrel,” I murmur, helping her astride.
Her eyes are glazed, and she doesn’t fight me. If I were a good man, I would stop this right now. But I’m not, and I don’t.
“Spread your legs nice and wide. That’s it, ride it like you would ride me,” I instruct when she’s safely astride, her palms clutching the edges.
She looks up at me as if uncertain.
I smooth back her hair. “Trust me. I’m not going to hurt you. The punishment is over.”
She pauses, then nods. I stroke my cock through my pants as she grips the side of the barrel and lists forward, canting her hips back and forth.
“My prized Port is in this barrel. The one I gave you to taste. Rub that pussy all over it. Make that wine sweeter than it already is.”
She rides with abandon. Jaw slack. Eyes dilated and shining. Head tipped back. I can’t take my eyes off her. But watching isn’t enough.I need to touch her.
Without wasting one more goddamn second, I pull off my pants and straddle the barrel behind her, my feet firmly on the floor.
“I’m right here,” I whisper into her hair. “Move any way you’d like. I won’t let you fall. Do whatever feels good.”
“Mmmm.”
It’s all she says as she rubs her ass against my hard cock.
My thighs are grazing hers, not enough to hinder her movement but enough to stabilize her so she doesn’t fall.
I roam her body while she rides. My fingers find her nipples. I stroke and pinch the hard little points.
“Ahhh,”she gasps, gliding over the barrel. “Antonio,” she whimpers.
My dick gets harder and longer when my name tumbles from those plump lips.
I wrap her hair around my hand and tug her head back to see her face.
“You’re beautiful. So beautiful,Princesa. Are you going to come for me?”
She purrs, inching forward and rubbing her pussy against the smooth cork stopper. I’m not even sure she’s aware she’s doing it.
My dick is weeping. I can’t wait a second longer.
“I’m going to fuck you,” I murmur, holding her hips. “My cock is throbbing for you. I want to feel your pussy around it. I need you to milk it real good. Will you do that?”
Her head bobs up and down. “Yes,” she says in a loud, clear voice. “Yes. Now,” she gasps. “I need you inside me, please.”
A part of me knows I should wait. Knows that this is the pent-up anxiety, desperate to uncoil. A clawing need to be pushed over the edge. The yearning to feel alive. She needs it. She wants it. In the way a junkie craves a fix. I need it too.
I won’t deny her.
