AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The groan that emerges from above assures me that yeah, it must feel good.
Now my own arousal starts to rise back up, and without understanding what I’m doing and how I did it my lips are puckered around his shaft and his cockhead is in my mouth, my tongue rolling around his thickness. Brock groans again, his grip in my hair tightening, his hips starting to push forward, his cock steadily moving past my tongue and forcing my throat to open and stay open for him.
“Oh, that feels so damn good,” Brock mutters as my eyes go wide with shock at how my throat is opening up just like my pussy opened up back on that auction-hall table. “I’ve never been so hard, Yolanda. Fuck, I’m not going to last long.”
His groaning words of raw arousal give me confidence, and now I start to suck, moving my head back and forth, trying to fuck him with my mouth, one hand holding his wet shaft, my fist jerking him off as I move my lips over his slick thickness.
Soon I’m in a desperate rhythm, and Brock is grunting like an animal, thrusting into my mouth, his heavy balls slapping against my chin. My vision goes in and out as the steam from the shower rises up around us like clouds. The sides of my mouth scream in pain from being stretched so wide open, but it’s the good kind of pain, the kind of hurt that sends shivers of dark desire through my bobbing body until my pussy is dripping my own wetness onto the bathtub floor.
Now I feel Brock pick up the pace like he’s getting close, his fingers clawing at my hair, one hand moving down and rubbing the back of my neck as he fucks my throat. But just before I feel him about to explode in my mouth, Brock pulls out of me with a shout, then grabs me beneath my armpits, pulls me up with shocking speed, smacks those big palms against my asscheeks and just lifts me off the floor and brings me down hard on his erect cock, driving all the way into my pussy as my legs wrap around his waist with the instinct of a horny little monkey.
“Oh, Brock!” I scream, almost passing out from the sudden sensation of being filled so completely with his enormous erection that my eyes roll up in my head. My arms are wrapped tight around Brock’s neck, my legs wrapped around his taut waist as Brock drives his cock up into me from below, his big hands supporting my quivering ass.
“Fuck, Yolanda,” he snarls through gritted teeth as he raises me and brings me down on his upright cock, his hips driving upwards in perfect rhythm until he’s bouncing me on his dick, his balls slapping wetly against my undersides, the shower hissing hot steam around us as he pounds my pussy to oblivion. “Oh, you are so warm and tight around my cock I’m going to explode right now, baby. Right fucking now!”
And as he says it Brock explodes, blasting a hot geyser of thick seed into the farthest reaches of my wailing pussy, roaring like a tortured beast as his hips drive upwards with desperate fury, his throbbing cock spurting what feels like torrents of semen until I feel its warm stickiness flowing out of my gaping slit down onto his swinging balls.
And suddenly I’m coming too, or maybe I never stopped coming, or maybe I died and this is heaven, or maybe I’m dying and this is my soul leaving my body. Either way, I’m a shattered howling mess of a woman, sobbing as I cling to his body like I’m a part of him, my pussy taking his seed like it was designed for just that purpose, made just for him, to be claimed by him, possessed by him, owned by him.
Now I feel Brock finish with a groan, and before I understand what’s happening he’s carrying me out of the shower, wrapping me in a big fluffy towel as I cling to him with my eyes closed tight, my lips trembling from the feeling of being fucked again, my legs still wrapped around Brock’s hips, my pussy still clenched around his cock.
“You can let go now, baby,” he whispers against my neck. “I’m going to lay you on the bed. You’re exhausted, baby. Let me dry you off and get you snuggled up and then I’m going to order up some hot food and cool water and feed your starving body. Come on. Let go.”
The soft mattress welcomes my body as I let go of Brock and sink into what feels like a feather-bed made out of clouds. My eyes stay closed, a happily exhausted smile on my face as I rest my head on the fluffy pillow and feel Brock drying me off with that towel. He pat-dries me all the way down to my toes, then pulls the quilt over my shivering shoulders, leans in and kisses me on the cheek, then pulls back and pads over to the bedside table.
Through my restful bliss I hear Brock ordering food, asking for it to be sent as soon as possible. Then he hangs up and I feel his weight on the bed. He gets under the covers with me, snuggles me close to his warm naked body, kisses me once more on the cheek.
“I love you, Yolanda,” he whispers, and I don’t care if it’s an act, don’t care if it’s a lie, don’t care if it’s a dream.
Because it’s the best dream I’ve ever had.
And I don’t want to ever wake up.
10
THE NEXT MORNING.
BROCK
“Wake up before the coffee gets cold,” I say loudly to the snuggled cuddled bundle of bedclothes and hair and curves on the bed beside me. “Oh, wait, you don’t drink coffee. I remember now. Should I call down for some tea? Orange juice? Tequila?”
The sleeping bundle of beauty stirs, raises her head, gives me a frowny pouty grumpy glare. “Why are you talking so much this early in the morning? Are you always like this?”
“Yes.” I take a sip of the strong Guatemalan coffee, then raise an eyebrow and shrug. “Actually, I don’t know. I’ve never woken up with a woman in my bed before.”
This seems to wake Yolanda up faster than the coffee ever could. “Wait, what? You’re lying, right?”
“Nope.” I drink down the rest of my coffee, grab a sugar-covered cinnamon stick from the room-service cart near my side of the bed. “I’ve always slept alone. This is a first for me.”
Yolanda sits up against the cushioned headboard, bedclothes up past her boobs, eyes following that cinnamon stick as it gets shoved down my hungry gullet. Our midnight snack was tamales and chorizo and chocolate molé, but I guess my body needs a hell of a lot more sugar to replenish my supply of semen.
Though clearly my cock doesn’t know it, I think with some amusement as Yolanda raises an eyebrow at the tent being pitched under the bedclothes the moment the sheets fall away to reveal her lovely little boobs as she reaches across to snag a cinnamon stick.
“But you’re a biker,” she says with a mouth full of sweet sugar and spicy cinnamon, covering up her boobs again, presumably to slow down my erection long enough that she can get some breakfast. “Don’t you guys have orgies with strippers and biker-chick groupies, pass your girlfriends around, stuff like that?”
Both my eyebrows rise together. “For a virgin, you have a pretty active imagination.” I chuckle, turning away from Yolanda to pour myself another cup of coffee from the silver carafe. “Some of that does happen, sure. But it wasn’t my thing.” My gaze moves down Yolanda’s beautiful outline beneath the snow-white sheets. “I’m not the sharing kind.” I sip my fresh cup of coffee. “And there hasn’t been a woman in a while. A long while.” Another sip, followed by a shrug as I state what’s obvious to me. “And there never will be another woman.”
“Oh, so one night with me and you’re going to give up sex forever?” Yolanda munches her cinnamon stick, licks her sticky fingers, then raises her eyebrows in my direction. “You don’t want me anymore now that I’m no longer a virgin?”
