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I moan and grunt but don’t attempt to agree or disagree. The competitive part of me wanted to win. I yearned for his mouth against mine, but this…this is more than I could dream of. It’s obscene and disgusting. And it feeds a very perverted part of me.
He wraps my long strands around his fist, pulling my head back in an even tighter grip.
“Tell me how much you love it. Admit to how nasty you are.”
“Oh fuck,” I moan. “I love it. I do.”
He growls appreciatively, letting my hair go before slapping my ass again. “Why?”
“Because I’m a filthy slut.”
“Mm. Who’s slut?”
“Yours.”
He shoves one of my knees onto the stump, and I hear the material stretching and ripping, but he doesn’t stop. His hands grasp my hips and he slams me back onto his cock over and over, using me like a sex doll. He moves and manipulates me however he needs to get off, and yet I still find my own pleasure.
I don’t know why I find degradation to be such a turn on, but it sets me on fire every time he calls me his slut. Soon, I’ll be a blazing inferno, set aflame by his disgraceful words and unable to be doused by anything but his cum.
“Do you want my cum?” he asks.
“Yes. Yes, please,” I beg.
“I fucking knew you would.Puta.”He slams into me hard. “You don’t deserve it.”
“No, please.”
“You tried to cheat. Cheaters don’t get any rewards.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not, but you will be.” He pulls out of me and quickly flips me over. “Legs up and don’t fucking move.”
I bite my lip and nod, watching him stroke himself above my pussy. He dips his crown into my wetness, barely pushing in before he retreats. He uses his thumb to rub my clit before spreading me open with his fingers.
His eyes stay focused on my wet center as his hand moves up and down his thick shaft.
“Oh fuck,” he roars, shifting his stance and aiming his cock for the small strip of pubic hair I have.
White ribbons of cum shoot from his slit, landing on top of my pussy and lower stomach. He shoves my legs higher, bringing my ass up off the stump and finishes coming between my already slick folds.
“Oh my god,” I breathe.
He pushes inside me once before pulling out completely and adjusting his clothes.
My jaw drops as his eyes meet mine. I lower my legs and attempt to sit up. “Are you—”
“This wasmyreward. Prove to me you deserve to come, and I’ll let you.”
Fury boils beneath the surface of my skin, but before I can open my mouth to let him have it, he grabs my face in his hand and leans in close.
“I’m so proud of you, nasty girl. You’re like a wet dream come to life.”
His lips touch my forehead in a gentle kiss and my indignation is reduced from a raging fire to a modest flickering flame. I smile up at him and he offers me what I think may be the most genuine grin I’ve seen from him.
It’s not a beaming smile, but his eyes soften as his lips turn up on the ends. It’s fleeting, but I take a mental snapshot and tuck it into the back of my brain.
“Let’s go get cleaned up. Meet me at the table. I need to eat.”
