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My go-to line to turn any bitch on works on Olivia. She screams into my shaft, tears springing free from her eyes. Her body shakes and jolts, riding the wave of the shame mixed with pleasure that’s seeping into every fiber of her being.
Heat flames in my gut. Olivia likes this even though she pretends she doesn’t. It’s anhonorto get used by me. I couldn’t hurt her if I tried because she’ll be drowning in cum regardless by the end. So hot and tingly in every part of her young body that she’ll have no choice but to demand another release.
That’s the power I have over women. They’re captivated by me even though they scream for me to let them go. They’re liars. All of them. The harder a bitch fights, the harder they’re begging for my cock. Their bodies betray them. Any man worth his salt recognizes this. Only losers think women mean what they say.
I stare down at her face, her chin hidden by my length. The corners of her mouth are reaching their breaking point, spit trickling out onto her collarbones. I’ve never fucked a bitch to the point where their mouth tears in two before, but there’s a first time for everything.
I like it.
A lot.
A sinuous smirk forms on my lips as my fingers lock onto the sides of her face. Heat blooms inside me, making my ungodly large nuts swell. It’s going to happen any moment.
I push out shot after shot of hot white cum down her throat.
Her cheeks bulge, straining and threatening to split.
My orgasm rips through me with claws, supercharging my senses.
I roar, my pleasure igniting a new person inside of me.
A new beginning.
Serving my new angel.
Brock
Olivia hasn’t come yet.
That’s a fucking problem.
I hold her head still as Rook unleashes down her throat. I’m not sure if he notices, but tears are running down her cheeks, dripping onto her sweater.
Why the fuck is she wearing this ugly ass sweater? She deserves so much better.
Olivia’s the type of female who deserves to don nothing but couture. I want to rip those brilliant dresses off the mean bitches who wear them around the halls at Saintswood and slide them onto Olivia’s perfect form. The agents who oversee the Fashion Week runway shows deserve to witness how those dressesreallyought to be worn. By Olivia. No one else.
Olivia gags on Rook’s release, choking on his cum. I bring my left hand to her throat so I can feel her try to swallow it.
She can’t.
There’s too much.
Instead, I feel Rook’s giant shaft lodged in her throat. It pulsates under her skin, shooting out even more hot cum like a poisonous viper.
"Fucking hell, bitch." I smirk as I rub her throat, which is bulging with my friend’s oversized shaft. "How can you breathe?"
Olivia’s neck is turning pink. I realize that it’s from arousal.
I step out from behind her back, then lay Olivia on the hallway floor. Stray sheets of paper and dirt surround us, but Olivia’s a dirty little whore so she deserves to get her pussy fingered in filth.
Rook keeps his cock in her mouth as his giant body looms over her face, and I move to her legs.
I wriggle her sweatpants down. She jolts and shakes, clenching her thighs together to try to convince me that she doesn’t actually want me to expose her pussy. The sight makes me roar with laughter.
"Tease." I tug the left side of her sweats to her thighs, exposing her soaking white cotton panties. "Act like you don’t want this one more time and see what happens. I’ll ram my cock straight into this little gash in the middle of this hallway and leave you to bleed out on your own."
I’d never do that.Never.Olivia is far too special for me to hurt in that way. But she needs to know that she can’t resist her own needs.
