I’d warmed myself up with a bunny massager before he began (part one of this story of kinky fuckery). I lay dazed and sated after multiple orgasms.
That was only the beginning.
As the toy sat forgotten on the bed with me, John Brownstone settled himself between my legs. I knew what he planned to do, but it always makes me gasp and squeak.
His tongue pressed gently against my clit. Oh fucking god that felt so good.
I pushed my pelvis forward, desperate to have his mouth closer to my body. He lapped and licked my slit, sucked my clitoris, and slid his tongue deep into my pussy.
Grabbing his hair, I pulled his head closer even as my thighs clamped down over his head. I screamed into my arm as I squeezed my eyes shut. The sensations were too much. So much pleasure, with just a twinge of pain from my sore clitoris.
Too much, too much, too much, oh god not enough, more, more, more!
My scattered thoughts ran as a litany through my mind.
I convulsed against his mouth one final time. He drew himself up, covering my body with his own. I spread my legs wider.
Oh yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuckmefuckfuckme!
As he thrust deep, his groin scraped against my tender clit. I nearly rose up off the bed. He pinned me down. I threw my head back, held my legs apart, and huffed, groaned, and gasped with each thrust.
His weight was a comfort even as he constricted my breathing. My body accommodated his with each movement.
I don’t know how long he held me down and fucked me. I don’t care. Time and even words lost all meaning.
Eventually, my arms and legs gave out. I was worn out, tired, and still spasming from earlier. He pulled away. I whimpered. I wanted his warmth and closeness. I wanted his cock.
He pushed me to my side, pulling my hips back. Ahhhh, spooning, my favorite position. I was so exhausted and spent, I wasn’t even gushy wet. He pulled out some lube and slathered it over us. As he slipped inside again, I gasped. My swollen, tender pussy welcomed the friction and the fullness.
I might have simply lay there, unable to move. He knows me too well. One hand weaved its way through my hair, pulling my head back, hard, without mercy. The other gripped my hip in a bruising, cruel hold.
I fucking loved it.
Squeaks, squeals, moans, groans – every noise I am capable of making. He fucked me until I made them all. We were two grunting, heaving wild animals acting on instinct. It was glorious.
Just as I began to drift away in my mind, unable to handle anymore sensation, I heard him. The small groan turned into a louder one which ultimately became a roar with his head thrown back as his hips bucked forward. His hands clamped down harder on my body, my eyes flying open in pain and pleasure as my body was forced to arch in response.
Each orgasmic spasm of his cock caused him to groan in response. His fingers tightened reflexively. I squeaked. His cock pulsed inside of my body.
Finally, he was spent. We lay side by side, unmoving, for several minutes. The only sound was the tic-tic-tic of the ceiling fan and our wheezing breaths.
Welcome to Masturbation Monday! Yes, this all happened, and apparently, watching me masturbate really gets him going. Thank goodness for that. If you’re not already worked up beyond belief, go check out this week’s Masturbation Monday prompt (that alone is hot, hot, hot) and find other smutty fun to read from bloggers and writers.
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