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There are all kinds of things that I want to do to this woman. I’ve fantasized about being inside of her in every room of the house. And yet, the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen is the spread of her legs after I remove her last stitch of clothing.
The female body is beautiful. The curves, the straight lines, the stretch marks that dapple the skin like battle scars. Calliope has a tuft of hair on her mound, neatly trimmed as if she was expecting company. The dampness of her arousal provides a slick entrance to her center.
As much as I want to take off my jeans and rip through her virginity like the winner of a marathon, I caution myself to be patient.
I run my hands along her thighs, feeling her body like a blind man reading braille for the first time. I memorize the curve of her calf and the stretch of her leg as I bring it over my shoulder. Face settled between her legs, her entire body shakes when I lean forward and drag my tongue over her center. It is the first of many strokes, but the only one that counts. Calliope’s legs part a little wider and give me unfettered access to her pussy. She takes a deep breath that scores the room with her desire.
I hold onto her hips as I explore the curves and crevices of her core, but she still bucks when my tongue waffles over her clit. A stifled moan escapes her lips and when I look up, I see her biting a clenched fist.
I don’t want her to hold back. I don’t want to see her keeping her cries to herself. I beat my tongue down on her sensitive little button until she’s forced to grab onto the blankets while grinding her pussy against my face. The stubble on my chin is coated in her juices as she moves this way and that to get the pressure she needs.
My life has been filled with beautiful women. Some were with me because they wanted to be and others indulged in my pleasures in hopes of finding a way to benefit from my attention. Calliope is the first to land in my bed that didn’t come by her own wishes.
That’s why I make her scream when she comes. She’ll be my wife one day and I want her to remember this moment fondly. I don’t want her to think I took her virginity; I want her to believe that she willingly gave it to me in exchange for pleasure.
Calliope wraps her thighs around my head and squeezes so tight that the world around us ceases to exist. Her pussy trembles with the aftershocks of her orgasm. And right in the center of her belly is a small pool of sweat.
It’s difficult to extract myself from this position when I could stay here for days, but she won’t impregnate herself. I pull away from her with the scent of her excitement left on my face. I smell her lust and her fear, a heady combination of hormones that create her signature perfume.
While she scrambles to scoot further onto the bed, I slowly undress before her. Belt thrown behind me. Jeans sloughed off on the floor. Boxers flung away in a hurry. Calliope leans against the pillows with wide eyes focused right on my cock.
I palm it in my hand. “Do you see what you do to me?” I ask her as I step toward the bed. “Do you see how hard you make me?”
Calliope gnaws on her bottom lip and shakes her head no. “That won’t fit,” she whispers. “You can’t,” she protests.
But it will. And I can. I can fuck her every which way from now until Sunday. “Spread your legs,” I order. “I’ll show you how perfectly it fits inside of you, baby.”
She looks at me as if I just asked her to cut an arm off. “Raniero,” Calliope starts to beg, “please.”
I climb onto the bed and crawl toward her. When I’m positioned over her, one hand on each side of her head, I sweep down to brush my lips against hers. “I said that I wouldn’t hurt you, Calliope, and I mean it. Now spread your legs for daddy and let me pop your cherry.”
I use my knee to force her thighs apart; Calliope doesn’t resist. I position myself at her entrance and feel the slick proof of her arousal on the head of my cock. With my hand gripping my shaft, I drag my tip through her juices until it’s soaked and I think I’m about to come all over her pussy. “This might hurt at first,” I warn as I start to press my head into her center. “But after a minute or two, it’ll start to feel real good, baby. Just trust me.”
Whether she trusts me or not, she tentatively nods her head in agreement and lets me continue.
I’ve deflowered a lot of untouched gardens before and I know that there’s no use in wiggling it in little by little. I thrust my hips forward and tear through the veil of her virginity in milliseconds. It takes Calliope by surprise and I’m treated to a squeal of pain. She reaches up to grab my arms and digs her fingernails into my skin. “That’s the most pain you’ll feel,” I reassure her quickly. “And it’ll be over in a second.” I don’t tell her that there might be a little blood, that sometimes when the hymen is torn, it leaves red evidence in its wake.
When the shock on Calliope’s face starts to disappear, I allow myself to move inside of her. She repositions her legs in between thrusts, a pained look on her face. But when I grab her thigh and hoist it over my hip, her heel digging into the small of my back, my cock hits just the right spot.
Pleasure blossoms on her features as her jaw drops open and she shuts her eyes. Whether she knows it or not, she’s fucking me right back. Her hips move in time with mine and little moans fracture the air.
I grunt as I rut inside of her, thrusting my hips so hard that our skin slaps together when I’m buried to the hilt. Her pussy tightens around me like a turtleneck. The way we fit together is like two puzzle pieces made for one another.
Sweat forms on my brow as I do everything I can to make her orgasm again. Science says they don’t do anything to help or deter a woman from getting pregnant, but Calliope will be more amenable if she’s coming off a high.
I work her back and forth, left to right, at three different speeds, and I even jackhammer her pussy until she’s screaming. She’s going to be sore tomorrow when I’m finished with her.
I bet if I flipped her on her belly and fucked her from behind, she’d orgasm with no problem. I could reach around her hip and finger her clit until she couldn’t hold back anymore.
But in the end, I don’t need all that. As much as I’d like to see her ass jiggle as I pound into her in doggy style, she comes before I get the chance. I feel her muscles contract around me and it sends me over the edge.
My cock coats her walls and forces me to grab the headboard, fingers tight around the wood as I undulate my hips back and forth. I milk myself inside of her, making sure every last drop of my cum fills her.
“Raniero,” she groans, her ineffectual little hands trying to shove me off her, “you should have pulled out.”
I don’t know why she thought that I would. I’ve been telling her since I kidnapped her that she was going to have my babies.
I leave my sensitive prick inside of her and rest on my forearms. My body hovers over hers, the heat of our skin-on-skin contact making the sweat on my forehead drip onto her chest. “If I could, I’d stay like this for the rest of the day,” I whisper in her ear. “Keep my cum inside of you until my seed implants.” I’ve always wanted to be a father. More than that, I’ve always wanted a wife walking around my home barefoot and pregnant.
