Page 61 of It Kills Me


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I let his sentence hang in the air. “How was yours?”

“It was fine. I was distracted the whole time.”

“By what?”

“Knowing you were going to come over tonight.” Now the smile on his lips was back.

“You know, when we first met, I imagined you would work out by lifting those big tires…from tractors and shipping trucks.” I didn’t know what possessed me to say that, but it tumbled out.

“I do that.”

“You do?” I asked, surprised my fantasy was true.

“You want to watch me?”

I was too embarrassed to admit it, to say that would be the biggest turn-on in the world.

“I’ll show you, baby. But only if you touch yourself while you watch.”

I kept my eyes on his forearms, feeling the heat flush my cheeks at the thought.

“Like this.” One of his hands moved, inching down my tummy to the apex of my thighs. His fingers moved to my sex and made contact underneath the bubbles, lightly rubbing my aching clit between my lips.

I inhaled a breath as my back arched instinctively. My pelvis tilted, grinding into his fingers just the way I did with his face.

His lips were close to my ear. “Such a soft, pretty pussy…” His big fingers easily overpowered my flesh, twice the size of my little clit.

My thighs squeezed together as my nails clawed at his forearms.

His deep voice continued to whisper in my ear, saying dirty things no one else could pull off. “I love this pussy.” His hand forced my thighs open so he could rub me harder. “So fucking perfect.”

I ground against his hand, my quiet moans echoing off the ceiling, growing louder as he rubbed me harder, as his movements turned circular just the way my own fingers did in the privacy of my bedroom.

“I can’t wait to fill it with all the come I’ve saved for you.”

One hand moved to his muscular thigh, and I clawed at it as my hips started to buck. I panted and moaned, and then I felt the fireball right in my stomach, the explosion that made everything white-hot and good. The still water formed waves as my body jerked suddenly, over and over, and I came so hard against his fingers.

“I love making this pussy come.”

I arched my back and finished before I collapsed against his chest, my breaths heavy, sweat on my forehead when I’d barely moved.

He pulled his fingers away then returned his arm to its place across my stomach.

Warm and satisfied, I wanted to lie there and fall asleep in his arms, but his rock-hard dick was against my lower back, like a rod against my spine. I’d gotten off good, but he had the kind of dick that could make me come again, so I left the warmth of his arms and turned around, supporting myself with my palms against his chest.

His hands immediately gripped my ass, and he guided me where he wanted me, his beautiful eyes focused intensely. There was no playful smirk on his lips. He looked hungry, even angry.

He propped his heavy dick up and guided me down, sealing my pussy around his fat dick. Once he fit his way inside, he released the sexiest moan, like he really did think my pussy was perfect.

I gripped his shoulders and arched my back, moving up and down and rocking my hips, taking his big size over and over.

“Slow.” His hands gripped my ass and forced me to match his pace. “I want to enjoy this.”

We sat across from each other at the dining table. His butler had brought dinner in and set the table while we were in the other room. I didn’t even realize he was there, but he probably heard us fucking through the closed door.

The spaghetti was even better than last time because it was fresher than when it’d been delivered. Sprinkled with parmesan cheese and basil, with just the right amount of olive oil in the sauce.

He ate grilled chicken with sauteed vegetables, a boring meal compared to mine.

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