Page 94 of The Man Upstairs


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Now wasn’t the time to speculate on the realities that lay ahead for Rosie’s estrangement from her mother, and the way the whole world would be against us. Rosie had taken enough emotional punishment tonight already. I changed the topic of conversation.

“I’ll clear some space in the wardrobe. We can start unpacking your things.”

She shook her head, blocking my way as I made to pass her.

“Not now. I don’t give a fuck about unpacking my things.”

Her confidence was growing so much. The way she looked at me was a world away from the meek little girl casting her eyes down at the floor outside my door. She ran her dainty fingers down my shirt, and it made my skin tingle, made my cock harden, made my pulse race. Even now, in the face of such conflict, I couldn’t resist her body.

My mouth was on hers as she murmured, and her fingers turned frantic, just as mine did. Our tangle of limbs were accustomed to each other. I tore her top off and over her head, barely breaking the kiss as she unbuttoned my shirt. She pressed herself to me, her thigh between mine, grinding to a rhythm. She knew how to play my body, just as I knew how to play hers.

“Fuck me,” she said. “I don’t want to think about anything else.”

That’s what had got us into this unholy mess in the first place, but I was already tugging her bra down, freeing her sweet little tits. My cock was straining, and my hands were on her tits, playing. It was her who pulled her jeans down along with her panties. I felt how wet she was against my thigh as she kept on moving. “Julian,” she said and her voice was beautiful when she whispered. “If they’re going to talk shit about you, then give them justice.”

She was turning into a kinky little bitch in front of me, one innocent petal at a time, and that was a mountain of fuel to a fire already burning bright.

“You really do want to be a dirty girl, don’t you,” I said.

“I want to beyourdirty girl. Show me how dirty you can make me.”

That was like a red rag to a bull. I hitched her up and carried her through to the living room, bashing my knee into her suitcase on the way to the dining table, on such a fucking mission. I slammed her flat, wanting to possess every fucking part of her. My mouth was frantic as I tasted, licked, sucked, trying to take her all in. She held my head to her pussy, already wet enough that my face was slick within seconds. Her taste was my heaven, my filth was my hell, and it was a blend powerful enough to turn me into a rampant demon.

I only let her go for a moment as I scooped up the array of toys still scattered on the chesterfield and dropped them down beside her. My hands were straight to the rope. She responded by offering her wrists to me, clasped together. I bound them like a madman, tugging the rope up over her head and binding her to one of the legs of the dining table, awkward but fucking stunning. Her back was still flat to the wood, arms tense as she pulled against the knot. She was bound tight. Mine to use. Her smile said she wanted it, but the hitch of her breaths said the nerves were still there. I paused to admire the beauty. Poor Rosie must have thought I was having second thoughts.

“I mean it,” she said. “I want to be the dirtiest girl you’ve ever had, and I know you’ve had a lot. I want to be the best.”

Her words made my cock swell as well as my heart. I gazed at her in awe.

"Don’t keep me waiting,” she said, “make me a dirty slut, Julian.”

Oh, how I loved the girl.

I spat on her tits like she was a true dirty slut, smearing her skin until she was dripping, nipples hard. I spat some more and ran my fingers up her neck, coated wet.

“Open your mouth,” I said, and she did it. She opened her mouth wide and sucked my fingers in all the way. She sucked me like a needy baby, and my cock was aching for her cunt, but I didn’t give it to her. I wanted to defile her enough to drive me insane.

She was smiling as I took the black marker pen at her side. I started with her thighs, my hands running wild as I wrotecheapon one side andsluton the other.

“Hitch your legs up,” I said, and she did as she was told, displaying the words proudly. Her slick cunt was on offer, but I wanted to give her the thick purple dildo before I gave her my cock. She moaned as I eased it in all the way, straining at her bonds, but she was a good girl. She didn’t complain, didn’t squirm, didn’t lower her legs.

“Want to see what you look like? Such a pretty piece of meat on offer?” I asked her, and she nodded.

It was second nature to call up the camera app on my phone. I loved the way she looked onscreen, glasses so awkwardly cute as she tried to stare down at me. My view was all on her slit, though, framed by the wordscheap slut. The dildo was straining, stretching her cunt beautifully. She was such a tight little bitch.

I set the video app to record. She whimpered like an innocent as she saw it in my hands.

I leant in close and pushed her glasses up her nose. “Tell me you want it. Say you want to be a cheap slut,” I said, making sure her face was visible onscreen.

My true deviant nature was taking hold. I was lost to it. And it was incredible.

Shewas incredible.

“I really, really want it,” she said. “I want to beyourcheap slut.”

“I’m not convinced,” I said. “Say it like you mean it. Say it like youcraveit.”

I kept her face in shot. She looked hurt at first. Then her confidence kicked back in. She ran her tongue over her lips. I could see she was thinking of the words to use.

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