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Mother of God...
The condom packet rips, but I can’t take my eyes off his cock. Fuck me, I’m in for a ride. If it fit once, then it surely has to fit again, right?
“I should be pissed you don’t remember the first time I fucked that pussy.”
My eyes flick up.
“Maybe I should be pissed you abused my poor little body?” I may not remember the act, but I sure do remember the soreness the next morning. He definitely put a hurting on me that my trainer has never succeeded in doing.
After rolling the latex over his dick, he looks back at me. Raising his hand, he plants it on my chest, pushing me backward until my back meets the window. I’m grateful this dress is still hanging on my shoulders. The cold of the glass wouldn’t feel too good on my scorched skin.
“I prefer giving you pleasure, Bri, but”—he cups my cheek tenderly—“you are small and I’m not.” He leans down, kissing me and grabbing the back of my legs, hoisting me onto his waist.
I wrap one hand around his shoulder and the other around the back of his thick neck.
“Some pain can bring pleasure”—one side of my lips tip up—“or so I’m told.”
“I want to see those amazing tits you have trapped.” He nods his head down at my bra. Looking over my shoulder, I still see a good bit of people outside. “Just take them out of the cups. Leave your dress on. I’m not planning on anyone else seeing what I’m seeing.”
Thank God. I’m not modest, but I’m not looking to have hundreds or thousands of people to possibly see me naked, not to mention the possibility of pictures.
I do, however, pop my boobs out of the cups. It hikes them up quite nicely, and I can’t help but look down at them.
Drago raises me until he’s able to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping my tender flesh, creating goose bumps to erupt all over my exposed skin. I rest the back of my head against the glass, enjoying every second a part of me is in his mouth.
My body slips, my breast falling from his lips as he lowers me on his cock slowly. The second the tip inserts I swear I see spots. He goes inch by inch, allowing me just the right amount of time to adjust to him that it’s all pleasure I feel.
“Jesus, you’re tight.” A rush of air flows past my head, making my hair fly up momentarily. The next thing I know, he’s pressing the last bit of himself inside me and I have to bite down on his shoulder to keep myself from crying out. “I’m not sure if it’s possible to get used to your sweet pussy.”
His words make me blush, yet soar on the inside. The compliment is both sweet and crude—and I like it, a lot.
He pulls out and then presses back in way too slow. I know he’s doing it for my benefit and it’s thoughtful, but it’s not what I need. I want him raw and hard. I want him the way I know he is. He’s only letting me feel the surface of what lives inside. I know he gave it to me that night and I want it again. This time I’m going to remember every detail.
I’ll need those memories, too, because I don’t think men like Drago Acerbi exist; at least not in my world.
I grip him by the shoulders, using him as leverage to move, increasing our pace.
Fuck he feels so good.
“More,” I plead.
“I got everything you need, baby.”
I know he does and I want it. I want him to exert himself inside me. I want every ounce of energy used on me.
He slams himself and me into the glass, pumping in and out, wearing me down with every surge forward. The ridge of his cock brushes my clit in the most glorious of ways. Fire that’s been kindling sparks to life.
“Harder,” I say, breathlessly, and he rams forward, pushing me up the glass; I dig my fingernails in the skin on the back of his neck, holding onto him tighter. “Harder, Drago.” My need for this—him—is insane. I’ve never been like this with any other man I’ve ever been with. This is different. He’s different.
“Look at me,” he says, rocking into me.
Complying, I look down, into his nearly black eyes. His pupils are so dilated I can’t tell where the black begins or the brown ends.
There is something in the way he looks back at me—the same need maybe—that pushes me over the edge, my orgasm sparking and taking on a life of its own.
His hand grips the bottom of my ass, tightening, but his other one loosens and the next thing I know, he smacks the window so hard from the force of his own orgasm that if I weren’t in a too-far-gone state, I’d be worried it might break. It’s impossible though; it’s too thick and most likely shatterproof.
He eventually stills, his head resting against the glass with his lips pressed against my shoulder, panting.
