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My cock pulses painfully with impatience, my aching balls contracting uncomfortably from having been teased enough for one day. I mount Chrissy’s body on the bed and spread her thighs unceremoniously apart, like I would a doll’s. Then I place the angry, throbbing head of my cock at Chrissy’s glistening vulva, her lips swollen with lust, and push my full girth into her tightness, making her gasp from beneath the bedsheet.
“Mmmh,” I growl involuntarily through clenched teeth at how deliciously tight she feels. I stop immediately, wondering if I’ve made a huge mistake. Looking down, my shaft looks ludicrously monstrous jammed into her tiny little pussy. It’s only a third of the way in, and I’m suddenly concerned it’s too huge for her. I’m used to fucking sex dolls, which are designed to inflate a man’s ego by providing tiny pussy and assholes. But forcing your way into a real woman? That’s another story. Should I stop?
Yet Chrissy’s dripping pussy is clenching impatiently around the portion of my cock that’s inside already, and I can hear tiny pants and gasps from beneath the bedsheet. So I push harder, invading her slick pussy until I’m impaled in her to the hilt. If she wanted to change her mind, she could have done it by now. No more Mr. Gentle.
I start fucking her properly, slow and long and rhythmic, to allow her pussy to squeeze hard along the full length of my cock. I’m going to make the most of this, and I want to make it last. But I can feel her tightness milking my cock like a velvet glove, and it grows increasingly difficult to hold back.
I fuck her hard and slow, each thrust making her huge tits bounce back and forth. So soft, heavy, and juicy. Almost comically unlike a sex doll’s.
“Fuck yeah,” I growl involuntarily. Chrissy is forcing herself to hold back her own moans, but I can tell she’s struggling. What I’m doing to her clearly feels so good that she’s unknowingly gripping the bedsheets beneath her, her pretty little knuckles white with the effort of keeping still. I fuck her harder and faster, groaning as I feel myself on the brink of orgasm, but not wanting this to end yet.
What if I never get to fuck this tiny little pussy again? I’m pretty sure that no matter how tightly they manufacture those silicone pussies in the sex dolls, they’ll never hold a candle to this. I pull my enormous cock out of her slick little cunt, the loud sucking sound turning me on even more. Panting and groaning as I edge, I force myself to hold my throbbing cock back, the veins bulging impressively along the shaft. Instead, I gently slide my fingers into her dripping twat, finding her G-spot, and pressing up along it.
“Ahh!” she sighs as her pussy clenches tight around my fingers and her pelvis rises involuntarily. There’s no more pretense because what sex doll has a g-spot? We both know the game she’s playing, and we’re both going along with it now. The bedsheet stays right where it is, covering her head and shoulders, and Chrissy continues to remain as still as possible. But I’m done waiting. She’s frustrated me enough for one day, and if I don’t pump her pussy full of my load soon, I’ll lose my mind.
I pull my fingers out of Chrissy’s pussy, leaving it squelching juices in frustration. Now she knows how I feel. I roughly grab her milky thighs and push them unceremoniously back towards her, folding her like a lawn chair. Fortunately, the teenage girl is limber and doesn’t put up a fight. Her pussy is now squeezed together between her thighs, forming a straight, dripping line in the middle of her swollen lips. Into this line I force my painfully throbbing, rock hard shaft, sliding it so deep into her that my balls press hard against her ass. These balls are about to empty themselves into her. She wants it? She’ll get it.
Pressing her thighs further down so her knees are almost on either side of her covered head, I fuck her hard and deep. Due to the position I’ve put her in, I can feel the head of my cock repeatedly rubbing along her G-spot. She’s gasping loudly, about to come, and her wide-open mouth is drawing the material of the bedsheet inwards over her pouting lips. I’m tempted to lower my mouth onto hers and kiss her through the sheet, but hold back. After all, Chrissy is starting to come hard, and I’m about to blow my load as well.
“Oh, fuck,” I grunt, feeling her pussy squeeze my cock like an angry fist as she climaxes, her pussy shivering and clamping on my hard rod. My balls start to contract hard against her ass, and I ram her swollen slit as my vision momentarily clouds over. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I groan through clenched teeth. “Fuck!” Hot jism bursts from my cock, and I’m only vaguely aware of Chrissy trying hard to repress her own sighing and moaning as she climaxes too, the violent spasms of her pussy milking my pole.
“Ooooh,” she groans quietly. “Mmmm.”
The orgasm is so intense and long that I forget my own name. I’m roaring and shooting, dumping every drop of man milk into the sweet girl. Chrissy cries out too, unable to hold back. Her breasts bounce and wobble, shaken by the intensity of our shared orgasm.
By the time it’s over, I’m completely spent, panting and heaving like an animal. I force myself not to let my full weight simply fall onto the girl beneath me, like I would have done with a sex doll. Instead, I roll off of her, pulling myself out of her spent pussy, and get up from the bed. Without throwing her as much as a second look, I stalk out of the bedroom into the en suite bathroom, before shutting the door. I turn on the shower and wipe my brow. I’m covered in sweat and still out of breath. What the fuckwasthat? That’s the hardest I’ve orgasmed in a long time. Maybe even ever.
As the steam from the shower starts to swirl around me, I lean a hand against the bathroom wall to steady myself, hesitating for a moment. Again, what the fuck was that? Chrissy and I both just pretended that she was a sex doll that was mine to use. It was so fucking hot and I just had the biggest orgasm of my life. But now that it’s over, I’m wondering whether we’ve just screwed-up big time. Maybe we should talk, and figure things out.
Gritting my teeth, I throw the door to the bedroom open and stalk back in, but then stop in my tracks because the sex doll has been put back in its place on my bed, where I’d originally left it. And my beautiful houseguest is gone.
5
Brad
Ican’t concentrate even though it’s been hours since my encounter with Chrissy. Normally, I’m a steady dude. As the CEO of a start-up, I tend to work all hours of the day and night with intense focus. My grocery delivery company, Timo, keeps me plenty busy and there’s little that can distract me. Yet, I can’t stop thinking about Chrissy and our incredible rendezvous.
After all, what the fuck was that? Why did she pretend to be a sex doll? Did she think she was really fooling me? What kind of fucked-up game are we playing, anyways? I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose while closing my eyes. Running a company is incredibly stressful and nerve-racking, but it’s nothing compared to dealing with a sex-crazed teenage girl. Fuck. I’m so fucked.
Maybe I should get out of the house. I’m still not sure what to make of this game Chrissy initiated, and I’m not in the mood to run into her either. It annoys me that I’m uncomfortable in my own home, with my mind going in circles. I need to vacate immediately. Maybe my buddy Dane is free? He’s a new father, having recently had a baby with his wife. But it’s worth a try.
I stalk quietly down the stairs, along the marble entrance hall, and out the front door without so much as throwing a glance in the direction of the living room, just in case Chrissy happens to be visible through the large French windows. If I see her reading like a goody two-shoes, just hours after our naughty little adventure, I’m worried I’ll lose my mind. After all, I’m too conflicted and confused at the moment, and probably wouldn’t even be able to speak in full sentences. For now, it’s best to avoid the sassy teen, at least until I figure out what the fuck is going on.
Hopping in my car, I pull out of the driveway as I call Dane from the Bluetooth in the dashboard.
“Yo,” I rasp when he answers the phone. “What are you up to tonight?”
“Changing diapers and singing lullabies,” Dane says in a wry tone. He sounds exhausted. “Hailey’s burping like there’s no tomorrow and refusing to sleep. Did I mention how charming newborns can be?” As if on cue, his daughter’s wails echo loudly through my car and I wince, turning down the volume.
“Yo, I hear you,” I laugh. “It sounds like you’re busy.”
“I am,” replies Dane in a morose tone, “but it’s actually my turn to go out. Jamie went out last week with some school friends while I stayed home with Hailey. So she’ll be fine if you want to meet up. Did you have something particular in mind?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug. “Maybe a drink?”
“Sounds good,” says Dane, sounding excited to vacate. “I want to try this new place I read about. I’ll text you the address.”
* * *
