She Likes It Rough Page 8

  His giant balls roll in the palm of my petite hand as I lower myself, guiding him down the moist chute of my throat. My head bobs and swivels on his dick, forcing it down deep, as far I can manage.

  I’d practiced the difficult feat of deepthroating with a dildo, but I never imagined Mr. Jameson would be so big. The size of him makes me retch when he pushes past my tongue and collides with the back of my throat.

  A spray of warm saliva spurts from my lips and trickles down to the base. I cough and gag and try to keep it all down. But I’m still not even close.

  Mr. Jameson grunts and his pelvis thrusts reflexively. He grabs hold of a clump of hair and clenches it inside a fist. His cock slips deeper than I even thought possible. Dark mascara rolls down my pale cheeks while his cock twitches down my esophagus.

  I choke and slurp, my cheeks concave with passionate sucking. I am determined to fit him all the way down.

  I reach around and lace fingertips between his ass crack. My nails dig deep into both cheeks as I fight through the intense urge to breathe. My throat clenches tight around his entire length; my gag reflex is trying to force him out.

  My tongue laps the base of his shaft with determined enthusiasm while I drool and slobber on every inch.

  “Fff—uck! Brenna, you’re so fucking deep!” He yanks hard on my hair and sends a shot of pain to my scalp. His dick throbs and swells in the very depths of my throat. Is he about to cum already?

  The vision in my bloodshot eyes blurs; my head bounces up and down in earnest as the pressure in his balls mounts, ready to erupt its massive load down my throat.

  “I-m—I’m gonna fucking cum!” Mr. James lurches and groans. My head bounces with a rhythmic determination to suck him off. My jaw aches, but I don’t want to stop.

  “Mmm-mmm…” My throat hums with lustful moaning, vibrating his dick while wet crimson lips bubble and pop with gargled suction. Thick beads of drool pour from my mouth with every deepthroat of his girth into my esophagus. Dark tangles of hair cling to the sweat of my brow while others hang and sway with every hard suck and gulp.

  “Fuck! Fuck!” His giant boulder of a chest heaves and his head tilts back. His rough knuckles dig deep into my skull, shoving me down until my nose scrunches against his solid abdomen. My eyes go wide. His swollen cock twitches in my throat, intense veins pulsing against the slick walls.

  Mr. Jameson grits his teeth and groans, ejaculating his warm load down my tract. The stuff coats the whole interior of my throat, seeping down my stomach like thick molasses.

  Again and again, his cock pumps a deluge of spunk into my gaping mouth. I gag and spit up a flood of cum and watch the bubbly strings trickle down to his balls.

  His eyes glint with the heart flutters of his orgasm, the reflexive spasms of his cock jerking to every swirl and suck. “Holy shit!” At last, he’s breathing again.

  “Mmm…” I moan, coming off his cock in one slobbery pop. I hold his gaze as I roll the hot spunk around with my tongue, opening wide for him to see. The white viscous stuff clings to the inside of my cheeks and coats every taste bud with the sweetness of his seed. It’s almost surreal, slopping Mr. Jameson’s cum around, tasting him just like I imagined.

  Then I flash a wide grin, swallowing the hot load in one eager gulp. My eyes flutter as I moan, licking up the bits from my lips like a creamy dessert.

  “All gone!” I say, giggling and falling back on the floor. A beam of light from the sunroof illuminates my puffed cheeks marked by streaks of mascara.

  ******

  “Shit! Someone’s at the door!” The door bangs with incessant pounding. Mr. Jameson nearly trips over himself trying to get his pants up.

  “Relax, baby. I’ll get it,” I say, scrambling to get off the floor and fix my tits. I saunter over to the door and stand up on my tiptoes to peek through the arch of glass near the top of the frame. What the fuck?

  “Good evening, miss.” The policeman says when I crack the door. Heavy rain runs off the brim of his hat and down a clear, oversized raincoat. The wreckage from the crash is visible behind him. My car is being carted away by a tow truck.

  “We received a call from a neighbor in the area about a collision. Says they saw a girl carried off into this house.” I nod at his words with a blank stare. The hood of my once pristine sedan steams as the truck lifts it by the front. “Are you… all right, Miss?”

  “Oh, I’m fine!” I swipe the air with a limp wrist. “We’re talking over insurance stuff at the moment.”

  Then my expression turns to shock when I feel a bit of cum dribbling off my chin. I wipe it away with the back of a hand and try my best not to look anxious. “Y’know, just exchanging information.” I twirl an index finger through my soaked hair and smile at one corner of my mouth.

  “Are you… sure you’re okay?” The last thing I need right now is a cop asking too many questions.

  “Absolutely! Uh-huh!” I’ll be a lot better when you get the fuck out of here, that’s for sure.

  “Someone told me they heard an engine revving just before the collision.” He studies me with a sort of glare, like he knows I’m not telling the whole truth. “Not every day you see that kind of damage in a low velocity suburban zone.” His eyes squint into tiny, accusatory slits. “Care to tell me exactly how this happened?”

  “Well, umm… it was like this—“

  “Can I help you officer?” Mr. Jameson says, his arm arching above me to lean against the door.

  “Yes, I’m—“

  “Because we’re perfectly fine here.”

  “That’s great, it’s just—“

  “But I appreciate your concern. The young woman and I can handle this, thank you.” The officer looks annoyed at being interrupted. Mr. Jameson’s sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, the sweat sheen of his forearms glinting like polished marble.

  He exudes a kind of confidence that has the cop stumbling over his words. It’s obvious that he wants to pin me on something, but Mr. Jameson won’t have any of it.

  My savior.

  “Okay then…. have a good night.” The cop tips his hat and more water spills off the front.

  “Phew. He was making me nervous,” I say, exhaling a sigh of relief.

  “Yeah, he’s a jerk.” Mr. Jameson closes the door, pushing with two fingers on the intricate woodcarving.

  I sidestep to get behind Mr. Jameson. “So, where were we?” I make a sort of snicker, the way a kid enjoys misbehaving. My fingers dance between his shoulder blades as I lean in, whispering, “Which one of my holes do you want to explore next?”

  “It’s funny, though” he says, the tone of his voice sounding way too serious. His hand moves with purpose, locking each of the three deadbolts into place. “I’m also curious how you managed to total my brand new car in a quiet residential area like this one.” His words are punctuated by the sound of metal clicking into place. “I mean shit, you’d have to be going at least forty-five.” Is he interrogating me? Did he figure out it wasn’t an accident?

  “I know, I’m so terrible!” There is a pause, and I fill it with a nervous giggle. My palms slip down his back. I bite down on my bottom lip to stop it from trembling, to hide the fact that he’s scaring me a little.

  “Can I ask you a question, Brenna?” He turns from the door, towering over me, holding me with a piercing stare. “Don’t worry, I’m not a cop.”

  “Mm-hmm?” I nod slowly, straining my eyes so they don’t look away, doing my best maintain a facade of innocence.

  “Was it part of your plan to get fucked in the ass?”

  The muscles of my core jump at his words, my asshole clenching into a tight pucker. “We can do that—if you want…” I stare at the floor, shuffling my feet. I don’t know where to look.

  “I’ll ask you again,” Mr. Jameson says, removing his shirt and getting at the button of his jeans. “Was it part of your plan to get fucked in the ass?”

  “Mr., Jameson? I don't know what you mean.”

  “
Get on the couch.”

  “Okay, but—“

  “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble today, Brenna” I take small backward steps, toward the couch, avoiding eye contact. “It’s time you take responsibility and accept your punishment.”

  I’m already lying flat on the couch by the time Mr. Jameson has his pants off. He’s stroking his stiff dick, looking down at me with a look of disgust.

  “Did I say you could lie down?”

  “No, I just—“

  “I don’t recall telling you to speak, either.” Mr. Jameson crosses his arms, looking me over with disdain. “Get up, and bend over.”

  My first inclination is to ask exactly what he means, but I purse my lips and stand up instead. My feet drag along the carpet in slow, timid steps. I position myself over the couch’s arm, my pink manicured nails contrasting the sleek beige leather. “Like—like this?”

  I gasp, covering my lips, immediately regretting speaking out of turn. His harsh, glowering eyes fall on my bent over ass.

  “Lift up your skirt.”

  My hands move almost on their own, their fingers sliding up my tense, slender thighs, feeling the tiny goose bumps there. They pause upon reaching the end of the skirt’s black ruffles, curling beneath the hem and lifting to reveal the taut, pale skin of my ass cheeks. My teeth sink into the skin below my lips, eyes squinting shut in anticipation of what was coming next.

  I can’t suppress the harsh screech that forces its way out of me when Mr. Jameson’s hand lands square against my ass. A streak of tears trickles from my closed eyelids and rolls over flush cheeks.

  “You’ve been a naughty, naughty girl, Brenna.” A red outline is left at the spot where his palm peels away. “A disobedient little slut.”

  My whole body jolts and I yelp at the force of the next blow against my bare bottom. The pain surges through my spine, distant pleasure swimming out to my breasts, shocking my hard nipples. My hips writhe to the subtle current, panties soaking wet with eager desire.

  “I want you say it.” His hands brush the contours of my raw cheeks. One finger flicks at my protruding tailbone, rolling over the sharp vertebrae like a dotted line across my arching back.

  My head jerks to another heavy blow against my ass and I moan long and deep.

  “Say it!”

  My pussy quivers with anticipation, a rising heat that shudders my insides to the hilt.

  SMACK!

  A gush of seeping hot fluid between my thighs.

  “Say it! ‘I hit Mr. Jameson’s car on purpose!’” He says, another hand coming down.

  SMACK!

  “Mmmmm…” My hips gyrate to the ecstatic shockwave landing between my open ass cheeks.

  “I don’t fucking believe it!” He swipes at my ass crack, spreading my juices between two fingers, examining them with a look of disgust. “Are you—are you enjoying this?”

  SMACK!

  He backhands my ass, his hard knuckles bruising the soft tissue. “Admit it! You did it on purpose!”

  He unleashes a flurry of unrelenting spanks. My head rolls on its axis as I groan, the tight walls of my pussy clenching to the pain and pleasure of every strike.

  “Okay! I’ll fucking admit it, okay?” For a moment, he stays his hand. “I hit your fucking car on purpose!” For another moment there is nothing but silence.

  “Because?” An index finger traces the red handprints plastered on my cheeks. The weight of his jeans thuds against the carpet floor.

  “Because—because I’m a dirty little slut!” Hearing the words come out of my mouth only made me wetter. It feels so good to hear the truth come out for once—makes me want even more. More punishment.

  “And…”

  “And—and what?”

  SMACK!

  My head flings backward, my damp hair clinging in thick clumps between my shoulders. A line of sweat runs the channel of my spine down to the small of my back.

  “And you did it to get fucked in the ass!” His firm hand hovers inches from my tender cheeks. The stinging pain branching out to every nerve ending with perverse pleasure.

  “Okay, Fuck! It’s true….” Tears gush from my swollen red eyes as I hammer fists into the leather cushions. “I did it all just to….” My voice catches in my throat, his hand grips one cheek like a vise and twists.

  The pain is like a bullet shooting through my insides, ricocheting between my ribs. His hand dives beneath my panties and finds the wet clit there. Two fingers dip between my wet folds, sending my body into a chaotic fit of pain and pleasure

  “…. To get fucked in the ass!”

  The truth never felt so good. Mr. Jameson spits into his hand, coating saliva around the swollen head of his cock. Is he actually going to do it?

  “Ungh!” My toes curl, my ass clenches reflexively. The tip pushes into the puckered entrance, its slick lubrication parting my walls despite the resistance.

  I squirm, shaking my head, biting my lip to fight the pain. He spanks me again and my ass bucks against his rigid pelvis. My slippery entrance gives way and my back arches when his enormous girth slips inside me. I moan out in ecstatic wails, head tilted up toward the single ray of light illuminating the room.

  Mr. Jameson pumps himself into my tight hole, gripping me by the waist. He grunts and groans with every deep penetration, plundering my tiny asshole with vigorous thrusting.

  “Yes! Fuck me!” My body jerks and spasms. My tight walls clenching around his magnificent size.

  My head droops and I watch him entering me, my supple tits bouncing together, the tendons of his thighs flaring with every hump. There’s a strange pressure building above my hips as he stretches my tight insides. My dripping pussy flutters to the sensation of his giant balls slapping against my slit.

  My legs shiver beneath me when I feel his girth slipping out of my clenched walls, my torso going limp over the couch’s arm, ass high in the air. It jiggles to another firm swipe across its scarlet cheeks, my startled yelp muffled in a throw pillow.

  “Spread your legs.” He spanks the side of my thigh and my knees buckle, bowing outward, the weight of my lower half supported on curled tiptoes.

  The tip of his engorged head slips between my sensitive lips, teases my clit. I can sense the pulse of each throbbing vein as it circles my virgin entrance. Is Mr. Jameson really going to enter me without a condom?

  But the fears and the reservations fall away in the instant of being penetrated, with nothing between the beat of his stiff dick and the delicate walls of my tightness. Mr. Jameson groans as my pussy gives way to his size, quivering, accepting him inside me.

  I wince at first to the pain, clutching the couch cushions and stifling a scream. But it quickly fades in the electric stimulation of his cock spreading me apart. My walls wraps tight around every inch, taking him inside with a wet, warm embrace.

  “You’re so fucking… tight!” Mr. Jameson moans, thrusting himself deeper. I buck my ass against his hips to match him, and my eyes flutter when he bottoms out at my cervix. “Agh!!” He grunts, feeling the grip of my walls on his cock.

  As my hips swivel against him, my body succumbs to the mounting pressure in my core. A liquid heat of ecstasy spills from within, exploring my insides, warming every extremity with electric fire. The orgasmic energy sends me into a fit of tremors as Mr. Jameson’s cock begins to twitch and swell at my cervix.

  I moan out when I feel his hot spunk filling my uterus and my body writhes. My hips buck wildly against him, coaxing the cum from his dick while he pumps himself into me with orgasmic fervor. The thick stuff jets out in endless milky streams, coating every bit of my insides. We groan together, riding the wave of our climax, lost in a sea of bliss.

  Mr. Jameson’s torso falls limp over the small of my back, slipping in the sweat of our bodies. He huffs and heaves, trembling on top of me, still ejaculating. My ass sways beneath his pelvis, milking every last drop of thick cum until I feel the weight of his body relax.

  Lying there, ass batte
red and raw with Mr. Jameson balls deep in my pussy, I feel more content than I’ve ever felt.

  And yet, there’s still something I have to get off my chest. It’d feel wrong not to disclose what’s been eating away at me ever since he started fucking me without a condom.

  “There’s…something else I should tell you.” The truth is I’ve never been on any kind of birth control.

  “I’m unprotected,” I say. Only this time I’m not talking about car insurance.

  Getting Her Fill

  Just because I flash my tits for anyone who will pay doesn’t make me a whore. Okay, not anyone. I’d never show them off to anyone who looked like a creepy pervert, no matter how much they offered. Well, okay, it might depend on how much they are offering.