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You know this is a seriously bad idea, Eva. Why are you doing this?
But there was no logical answer to that question, and in that moment in time, I didn’t care about logic, or prudence, or doing what I should. I just… wanted this. Wantedhim.
Later, I could berate myself for my weakness, for succumbing to temptation. There would be plenty of time for that particular post-mortem.
He didn’t give me any opportunity to worry though, laying his arm across the span of my upper thighs, pushing them even harder against me, pinning me in place upon the mattress. The movement of air upon my exposed cleft and pussy had me almost sighing all on its own, but when two fingers slipped between the slightly tender lips of my sex, I shuddered, closing my eyes a moment.
“Shh, just be still, and let me play with you. Your pussy isn’t even close to having enough yet. I can smell it. It’s crying for more.” He scissored those fingers deep inside, the tips playing cleverly with my cervix in a way that made my belly clench and twist.
“What are you…doing?” I asked, ignoring his order to be silent, my curiosity—and need—much too urgent to allow me to hold my tongue.
He stroked the backs of my thighs, all the while taking up a slow, but firm, thrusting of his two fingers within me. “I wonder…if this pussy can squirt for me. I don’t think I’ve ever really tried before.”
Oh shit.
“You…you don’t have to—”
“Don’t tell me what I don’t have to do, slut.” He slapped my ass twice, then pinched the tender flesh at the inside of my right thigh until I keened with the sharp pain. “Now, do as you’re told and bequiet.”
Taking his time, he drew out the copious remnants of his semen from my pussy, combined it with my thick wetness, spreading it upon my clit, and then massaging it in. Over and over, he repeated this until I was trembling, pleading in wordless whispers. I needed to come so badly!
Then he set about coating my entire sex before he was satisfied, even ensuring the pubic hair of my mons was sticky with it as well.
“Now, let’s see what kind of whore I’ve got on my hands now.” He met my gaze, his eyes sparkling. “You clenched just now. Is it that you don’t like that word, that I’d call you that? Or is it because youdo?”
“Please, Nick…”
“I think we both know the answer to that, though, don’t we?” His fingers took up a steady—and steadily quickening—plunge and retreat inside me. When his exploring discovered the spot, I stiffened with a breathless sigh, arching my back slightly, the tell-tale hot urge to pee at once strong and teasing, both.
“Found it,” he murmured, pleasure clear in his low voice, even as I began to writhe upon the bed.
“Oh, almost forgot something.” He winked at me, slipping from the bed, the retreat of his fingers making me moan in frustration as he strolled into the master bath.
In seconds, he’d returned, a mint-green bath towel across one forearm, a pleased grin upon his face. “Can’t have you making a mess all over my bed, can we?”
I wanted to cover my face with my hands, so fiery did I blush then, but I didn’t want to draw even more attention to my mortification. So, I stayed exactly where I was, my hands locked about the backs of my knees, pulling my legs back even further, as if I could hide my flushing face against them.
“Oh my God,” I said on a tight groan as his fingers claimed me deeply once more.
“Raise your hips, girl.” He tucked the towel under them as I arched up, then pressed me back down upon the cool terrycloth. “That’s better.
Without preamble his fingers took me again, first two, then three, stretching almost to the point of discomfort. Then, seeming to focus once more on that secret spot inside me, he worked it with two fingers, relentlessly, never letting up for a one second. As the seconds passed, he got firmer and firmer with me, until he was almost brutal, driving back and forth within me. The pleasure, the pressure, just grew and grew, and before long I was writhing, raising my hips up, begging him in wordless entreaties, for something I didn’t even understand.
“Yes… come on, slut. Give in to it. It’s mine, just like this pussy is. Mine.”
“Nick… Nick…what are you…oh my God, what…” I was panting by then, sweating, my skin growing wet with it.
Then he moved his other hand down, and the brush of his fingertips against my clit made my entire body stiffen, and a tight yelp escaped my lips.
“Almost there now… let go. Give it to me, slut. Give it to me…”
His growl was so deep, resonant, it was almost enough on its own to tip me over the edge. His thumb then circled my clit, his fingers inside me almost churning me, stirring my juices, the sounds loud, obscene, my wetness so copious I wanted to cover my face in embarrassment.
But I didn’t. Instead, locking my gaze with his intense, liquid eyes, he pinned me in place with the power of his stare, the insistent and devastating movement of his fingers inside me, his thumb around and around my aching clit, driving me higher, and higher still.
“Oh… I’m…I don’t… Oh fuck, Nick!”
“Do it… let go… let go…” He thrust even harder, his fingers almost painful on my clit then, and it was the final straw. I went stiff, my entire body trembling, the immense pressure deep in my lower belly finally releasing in ecstatic, soul-destroying spasms of pleasure, waves of them washing through me.
