Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I don’t really know what I’m doing, but what I lack in technique, I make up for by sucking and moaning and not giving a shit if my spit drools down his shaft. I’m wild and mindless, and having a cock in my mouth as my vibe works up and down my pussy is kicking me into an entirely new realm of bliss I didn’t know could exist.
“That’s right, baby, your pretty mouth feels so fucking good on my dick. Keep sucking me like that, you bad fucking girl. God, you want to come, don’t you? You’re moaning and shaking. Look at you, so beautiful. I want to taste it, baby. I want you to come, and I want to taste it when you’re done.”
“Shit, I’m coming,” I gasp, pulling back from him, but he buries his dick in my mouth as the orgasm rips into my core.
I shudder as it hits me. The vibe presses against my clit and I’m destroyed. I shatter with his cock in my mouth, moaning the whole time, and I nearly black out from the pleasure. Slowly though, I pull the vibrator away, groaning as he pops his dick from my lips.
As promised, he takes the vibrator from me and stares into my eyes as he cleans it with his mouth.
Holy fucking shit.
“Exactly what I thought,” he whispers and bends down to kiss me. I can taste myself on his tongue, and a warm thrill echoes down my spine.
I didn’t think I could actually want more sex after getting myself off—but I was wrong.
This man oozes confidence and bliss. I decide right there, kissing him with my taste moving between our mouths, that I’m his for tonight.
Fully and without hesitation.
Whatever he wants—whatever he demands—I’ll give him.
Because I know that I’ll get even more in return.
Then he’s between my legs. He’s kissing me and pinning my hands above my head, and I feel his tip press against my aching entrance. Fear spikes, and I should tell him that I’ve never done this before, that I’ve never had a man inside me before—
I feel him glide along my pussy before pressing his tip inside.
He lets out a low groan.
“Fuck, baby, I knew you’d feel good,” he whispers, easing himself between my legs.
And with that, without any fanfare, without any trumpets or shouting or wedding bells and entirely because this is what I choose for myself, I’m no longer a virgin.
My back arches. He’s big, and I’ve never had anything his size in me before. It burns and aches, but underneath all that is a low hum of pleasure, as he slowly slides himself deeper.
Until I’m full to the brim.
He buries my mouth with his. My nipples are hard and my legs wrap around his hips. He moves back, hips grinding into me, going slow. I’m moaning and whimpering, half from pain and half from bliss, not sure which way I want to go.
“Keep going,” I beg him, wanting this so badly it kills me. I’m the fencer tonight—strong and smart and sexy—not boring old Carmie. “Fuck me, please,” I plead, not even sure why, because he’s not showing any signs of stopping.
He lavishes me with attention. He kisses my neck and breasts, he bites my lower lip, he tells me how good I feel and how badly he wants me. He grinds himself, in and out, almost like he knows I’m getting used to his size. Like he can read my body’s reaction. And slowly, as he tells me how he wants to fuck me from behind while he makes me come screaming with my vibrator, the pain recedes.
Replaced by raw pleasure blooming in my core.
He fucks me after that. Not the slow, gentle grinding, but dirty and good. He fucks me as I push my hands against the headboard, and he fucks me when I roll onto my belly and let him grab my ass and spank me, and he fucks me when I ride him with sweat dripping down my breasts. He licks that sweat off and fucks my mouth. He fills me to the brim and comes inside of me, and he licks my pussy until I scream, and he fucks me again after that. More than once, the vibrator appears, sometimes shoved in my mouth and sometimes on my clit, making me come screaming.
It’s late when he’s finally done with me. I’m sore, but in a good way. I use the bathroom, and when I come back out, I scoop up the shirt he wore to the club and pull it down over my body.
But I notice something in the dim moonlight.
A dark red stain near the collar, like a drop of blood.
“Come back to bed,” he orders, and I look at him for a second.
Why would there be blood on his shirt?