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“Please.”
He swats my ass. “No. No. No, naughty slut. Say it.”
Oh, how I’ve missed you, baby. That dirty talk. That dick.
Knowing what he seeks, I give Blimp what he wants. “I need your fat cock.”
Rewarding my words, he slides in the smallest bit. “Need it. Eh?”
“Yes,” I moan, not caring who hears.
Blimp knocks my feet apart, forcing me to widen my stance. The leggings roll down to my ankles, baring my legs. “What else you gotta say?” he prompts.
What else does he want? What more can I say? Can’t he see I’m at his mercy? That I always will be?
When I don’t reply quick enough, a sharp sting radiates across my backside as his hand brands flesh. I cry out. Not from pain, but desire. Frustration. I don’t like to wait. This is the sexiest form of torture. Watching him sitting at my bar, drinking my drinks just so he can see me has always been a turn on. He knows it. I know it. It’s our hottest form of foreplay. One neither of us will admit to, but a game we both play to have moments like this.
Growing impatient, Blimp prompts a second time. “Well?”
Saying what must be said, I express my innermost feelings. “I missed you.” More than any woman should.
Gentle, almost reverent, fingertips brush my hip bone, swirling designs there as Blimp’s cock remains motionless, hovering inside my pussy. “What’d you miss?” His voice is low and jagged.
“Your dick.”
An inch glides in, stretching my walls around its immense girth.
“What else?”
“That mouth.”
Another inch has my toes curling in my shoes. Sweat beads on my brow as he touches that special spot, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my nipples. They harden, stabbing the lace of my bra. A rush of air bursts from my lungs and my stomach quakes, as he grants me mercy giving a second inch. We’re halfway there.
“And?” Blimp grits. Resuming his hold on my hip with one hand, he releases his dick with the other to gain complete control.
“You.”I missed you so much.
“That’s right, my sweet, sweet, slut, you missed me.” With that Blimp slams home, giving me the full eight inches to the hilt, knocking my world askew. I pitch forward, taking the brunt of his power, but Blimp’s got me, as he always does.
Using me as his fuck toy, he pistons his thickness in and out of my hole relentlessly, not giving me a chance to work for it. To beg. To do anything more than go along for the brutal, erotic ride.
“That’s it, slut. Take it.” He lands another smack, and my walls convulse around his shaft. I almost come.
He unleashes another, knowing the right buttons to push.
And it works.
Closing my eyes, I throw my head back and scream into the night as starbursts of colors explode behind my lids. I shudder, knees giving out. But there’s Blimp, anchoring my smaller body to his larger, much softer and cuddlier form. His beard tickles the back of my neck as he pulls out and…
“Fuck!” Blimp jerks away as blinding police lights fill the alleyway. An officer exits his car.
I stand here dumbfounded, watching him approach with my shoulder resting against the building, bottoms around my ankles. I squint to make the man out, trying my damndest to see if this is a joke, or if we’re caught with our pants down.
When I glance at Blimp, he’s grinding his jaw, nostrils flaring, clothes back in place. Unlike me, who still has orgasm brain. It’s a thing. I promise. One night with Blimp and you’d understand. It’ll make you forget your own name. Or the fact you’re flashing the popo your hoo-ha. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I let it ride.
The young blond officer stops a safe distance away as he eyes Blimp. Noticing the leather cut, he pulls his gun. Rookie. This punk is out patrolling on a Friday night in our town by himself, and he has the balls to draw his weapon because of a Sacred Sinner. Big, the club prez, is gonna have a field day with this. So is this boy’s chief, Wanda, when I tell her about it.
“Get back in your car, son. Leave us be,” Blimp warns, both arms down at his sides, fists flexing and unflexing in anger. My man’s had a hard enough week, he don’t need this shit too.
