A Quick One
No, I mean ruthless, rolling me on the bed, pulling and pressing, slowly working me over, my body surrendering, like a soft dough, stretching; his fingers smooth and kneading me.
His eyes are lit, bright with desire and designs for my undoing. Everything is deliberate, his confidence growing, seeing me seduced.
I'm coiling over, close to the corner, one of my long legs reaching down off the edge of the bed, the other kneeling low. I glance into the wardrobe mirror, seeing the full reflection of our bodies, his hands slipping between us, steering the tip of his cock to press against my sex.
His eyes climb off me and search for mine in the mirror. His focus breaking into a loving smile, his hazel iris burning brightly with devious intentions. He's going to fuck me, and we both know how good.
Holding his cock against me with one hand, he reaches forward with the other, spreading his fingers into the coils of my hair and grabbing a good fistful, his knuckles bite into my scalp as he slowly sinks his big thick cock deep inside me.
His burnt brown eyes pierce and defy me, daring me to stay with him. My neck and throat stretching open with a deep groan, reflecting in the mirror, as his hand grips and twists, and pulls against my mane, bending my back like a bow, arching, as his full aching hard cock slides inside me.
Fuck! My fingers reach, stretch and grip, holding the edge of the bed, my eyes flicking open and closed, catching rare glimpses, his thighs and hips slowly stroking, feeding the tight, wet slide of his cock deeper and deeper inside me.
A breathless voice begs silently inside me. Fuck! I yelp, my eyes flashing open, wet with wincing, pleasured with a pain only he can reach. The blunt tip of his cock stabbing at the very limit of my sex. His hips striking tight behind me.
Fuck! He cries out, suddenly pulling himself free. I feel our connection torn, my body buckling with needing the hollow emptiness inside me filled. I look for him in disbelief, wanting to feel him claim me. In the mirror I see his cock raging, glistening and wet. He strides around me, his grip twisting in my hair, he faces me, before slowly raising one knee to kneel on the edge of the bed.
Confident and commanding he grips my hair and draws me towards his hard and heavy cock. He presses the wet tip to my lips and slowly insists on pushing his way inside me. I feel my inside flood, my cunt, so hot and wet, running with lush juices.
My breath gasps, nostrils wide and flaring, my lips stretching, his thick cock pushing them open, pressing against them, slowly easing inside me, and rubbing over my tongue. I glimpse our reflection in the mirror, catching sight of his smooth behind, his slim hips and firm buttocks, seeing them grip and relax, their motion gently rocking, showing me the easy stroke of his cock slipping slowly in and out of my mouth.
"God, I want to fuck you so bad!" he moans aloud, lamenting his frustration, aching to be behind me again and riding me hard. I can feel the need in his voice, and the throbbing flex of his cock moving in my mouth, as he swells with his own fantasies of fucking me.
His shoulders twist to help him turn, his head lowered to look behind, his eyes search for mine in the mirror and he finds me. The light in our eyes as interwoven and connected as when we first met.
His hand grips my hair and defies my protests. With his free hand he pulls himself away. He sees the helpless suffering in my eyes, he sees my weakness. Secretly he shares it. I don't want to feel alone, I want to feel him with me, and inside me, so bad.
Suddenly, and without warning, this shared moment of serenity is whipped away, my scalp burns a little too brightly as he grips hard, deliberate, my mouth opening to exhale that little wince of pain. And he's a bastard for control, ruthless and calculated. He pushes the tip of his cock full against my open mouth and holds me at the edge of him.
I'm trying to sink my mouth around him, I so badly want him full inside me, but he holds me firm, denies me. Makes sure I know he's in control.
He toys with me, lifting his cock from my lips and not letting me have him. Gripping my hair, making me work, beg and complain. And I can feel his attention, his focus drawn just beyond the tip of his cock, where the sheen of his raging phallus fails to reach the puffed swell of my well rubbed lips.
Fuck! I want him. I lean my weight and fight against his grip, stretching my jaw, closing my mouth around the rib of his glistening glans, feeling his resistance soften as his cock stiffens, flexing and throbbing. Until finally, he concedes and relaxes, riding and sliding his way inside my muffled mouth, and pressing himself to the luscious, lusting suck of my loving tongue.
He cradles my head with one arm, while reaching his free hand over me to grip at the meat of my behind. He grabs my buttock, rude and demanding, pulling me onto him, his cock pushing deeper inside my mouth, his fingers spreading, stretching, and flexing, reaching for more of me, ravenous with starving hunger and eager with need, looking to dig and claw their way into the wet spread of my sex.
Frustrated, he cups his open hand and crisply spanks my backside with a single sharp smack. The mock punishment tingles through me, I feel my cunt shudder, horny with the promise of more, as his dominant voice commands and claims me: "You're so fucking sexy, I'm going to fuck you so hard!"
There's a moments pause, where he gives his words time to sink in, and then he moves, rapid and rough. His urgency, visceral and raw. He ruthlessly pulls himself away from me. I witness the scene, seeing him reflected in the full length of my wardrobe mirror. His hoisted leg lowering off the bed, his sucked cock, slipping from my mouth, sodden, rigid and bouncing, while his firm, smooth buttocks and rugby-muscled thighs, stride as he moves.
Cornering the bed, he stands behind me, his hands curling to grip the girth of his manhood, flexing between his thighs. He stirs the tip of his phallus against the soft split of my aching cunt, feeling her need, as if she's softly sucking at the air.
With one hand he guides himself against me, then places both hands over my hips and draws me onto him. I see his eyes sharpen, his inner light, burning bright, lit with devious intention. We moan together, his cock full and deep, filling me with a single sweeping stroke. His hands grip into the meat of my hips and push me forward. In the mirror I see how his eyes glance down into the space between us, savoring the sight of my tight cunt, stretched and wet. The sound of my mournful groans pleasing him as he leaves me hollow, and hurting for more; while the thick, fat tip of his cock, rests again against the edge of my sex.
For an agonizing, antagonizing moment, his hands grip to push against me, preventing me from having him. Depriving me. I'm protesting, whining, pressing my tail back against his hands, feeling the very tip of his cock nudging into the soft crease of my sex. And then he pulls, firm and certain. His fingers digging into the meat on my hips and gripping to guide me. Deep, hard, thrusting, he pushes and pulls, his cock flexing rigid, until his bone becomes iron, wrought with the roughness of his fucking.
The room fills with erotic sounds. Our groans grow, more guttural, primitive, and primal. The smacking slap, slap, slap of my firm behind clapping against him.
And so he advances, reaching between my shoulders to grab a full fist of my hair. His knuckles brushing against my scalp as he twists his grip, demanding all of my attention. Pulling tight, my body arching, I see his reflection, his torso taught and straining, riding hard behind me. Our eyes connecting through the mirrored glass, mine opening wide, closing, then opening, as his hands strobe over me, ravaging.
His climax is close, I can sense his musculature tightening, our breathing short, rough and wild, the pounding of his arteries driving the impossible swell of his cock, until the savage sound of his need curdles in his throat, and his sex shudders deep inside me with a rush of hot cum."
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