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TWENTY
ivy
God help me,his dirty, filthy words are like a command I can’t ignore, like a whip lashing against my throat. I drop to my knees onto the sticky cracked floor, hands behind my back, eyes down. I don’t care that I’m kneeling in something wet and gross. The cold tile presses against my knees, my skin sticking to the dirty grout.
He didn’t even raise his voice when he commanded me. But to me it was a shout, something that couldn’t be disobeyed or ignored, and my body is on fire, bubbling with desire. I’m buzzing, switched on like the brightest light.
I don’t know what’s about to happen, but all I know is that I need it.
Desperately.
“Look up at me, Pollyanna.”
I raise my eyes from the floor.
“Blow me.”
His words are the sweetest relief, like being ordered is exactly what I need. My body hums with some kind of sullied anticipation as I undo his jeans and pull his cock out. It’s thick, big, and hard. Heat swirls in my belly, my mind dizzy with theneed to take him into my mouth, to make him feel the same pleasure he felt the first time.
Our first time.
Licking a path up the shaft, I take him deep, stretching my lips to fit him. I’ve done it once. I can do it again. He’s almost too big but I still crave it,him.
Slowly I work him with my mouth and tongue, sucking him, trying to swallow him down. He wraps his hand in my ponytail and starts to pull and push my head, pull and push until he’s in charge of what I’m doing. The growing ache inside of me roars.
“Fuck yes, deeper.” He shoves me all the way down so that the tip of his cock hits my throat and holds me in place until I can’t breathe, until it’s almost too much. Tendrils of heated panic start to weave through my insides. Without warning, he pulls me off with a popping sound and I gag and cough and hunger for more. He shoves me back on his cock.
I don’t know how long this brutal face fucking goes on for, but it could be forever or mere seconds. The more he does it, the rougher he gets, and the deeper my hunger grows. I’m dripping, I know that. My panties are soaked at the thought of him losing himself for me.
“You’re such a fucking good girl, Pollyanna. I could live with my cock buried in your mouth.”
He starts to move me harder, thrusting faster. My fingers itch to touch him. He hasn’t told me to, so I keep my hands to myself. The degradation of kneeling on the bathroom floor like some worthless creature is weirdly hot. I moan, the sound muffled because my mouth is full of his cock. He hisses, grunts, and then he pulls me off and up, using my hair to make me scramble to my feet.
“You think I’m going to give you what you fucking want?My cum in your mouth?” His hand is still coiled in my hair, his heated gaze is locked on my mouth.
It feels abused, swollen, greedy.I’mgreedy. I want to please him and take every scrap and crumb he leaves me.
“Yes,Sir,” I say, deliberately. “That’s what I want.”
His eyes rise, glittering at the way I say ‘sir’, at the sarcasm in my tone. And he gives me an evil grin. “You naughty little slave. You want a spanking and you’re fucking aching for my cum to spill down your throat, aren’t you? I bet if I slid my hand under your skirt your pussy would be soaked.”
“Yes.” My whisper is torn from me. He’s right. We don’t need to like each other to want this.
Maybe I’m sick in the head, but hell, he is, too. He gets off on this like I do.
“Trying to play me? Trying to get me in that tight cunt?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
“Too fucking bad.”
He pulls me close and kisses me. It’s slow and deep, a seduction at odds with what he’s saying and what he had me do.
His kisses trail a path down my throat to the spot he bit and sucked last night. He does it again and I give a little moaning cry as my pussy throbs, pleasure spiraling out to my limbs.
He unlocks the stall door and kicks it open before pushing me against the sink. Then he shoves himself against me so my face is practically smashed against the mirror. Behind me, he pumps his cock in his hand, eyes on my ass.
Mercer lifts up my skirt, a cool rush of air hitting my skin through the thin pantyhose.
