On Sale for Christmas

I couldn't resist stroking the foreskin up and down the shaft and watching the little bubbles of lubricant reward my efforts. God, the things I wanted to do to him!

For a moment, I couldn't decide which I wanted more—to take it in my mouth, or to have him inside me. But in the end, my greedy body won out. I rolled a condom down onto him and leaned back in eager invitation.

Ben crawled over me, stooping to nip at the inside of my arm, all the way from my elbow to my shoulder. Each graze of his teeth was like an electric jolt through my body and I moved shamelessly, rubbing against him, using the lace of the thigh highs to tease and tickle. But just as he had himself positioned between my wide-spread legs, he stopped and said, "I don't think you were totally honest with me before."

I put a finger to his lips. "Please…shhhhh…just…just fuck me."

With a sparkle in his eye, he grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the headboard. "Not until you admit it."

"You're torturing me. I'll admit anything!"

He chuckled. "Admit the real reason you needed me to make this fantasy come true for you." The head of his cock nestled between my nether lips, the sensation of making me quiver. "Becca, you needed me to pimp you out. That's part of the kink, isn't it?"

"I don't know!" I cried.

Or maybe I said something else. I was incoherent with desire. I put my arm around his neck and tried to draw him down into me, but he was too strong. Holding me still, he bit the hollow at my throat and whispered, "Because you needed someone to know. You needed someone to know what you did to make it real."

"Yes," I cried, a little sob that started in my throat but made my whole body shudder. "Or else I could pretend it never happened."

"Oh, it happened," he rasped, his voice thick with desire. "And this is happening too…"

Then he pushed himself inside me.

I was so raw from screwing another guy that it ached. But I didn't care. I lifted my hips, arching to meet him, sighing happily as he filled me all the way up. That's what I needed. I needed Ben inside me. His hard body against my soft one.

He felt so good. Not just because of the twisted naughtiness of it, but something else, too.

It almost felt like it was the first time.

Like, ever.

Which was pretty strange considering what I'd just done.

Ben gave it to me slow at first, adjusting to me as I adjusted to him. He was staring into my eyes, and I was staring into his, stroking his cheek with the hand he didn't have pinned down. Delighting in the fact that he always seemed to smell like a fucking Christmas tree.

I grinned at him and he grinned back.

"Becca," he said, his voice as steely as his cock. "You fucked a total stranger in this cheap hotel room, then he slapped his money down on the table and left. That all happened. You and I are the only ones who are ever going to know it, but—"

"You made it happen," I whispered.

"I sure did," he said, letting his nice guy exterior fall away. Slow strokes suddenly turned to hard, hammering thrusts. And he was destroying me.

I'd dismissed him out of hand. Not my type. Not kinky enough for me. But here he was, plowing me into a bed I'd just shared with another man, thrusting into me with strokes that made my breasts jiggle and the rest of my body weak.

He was hot and flushed, really putting his back into it, as if to make me forget there had ever been any other guy. I'd wanted to come so badly, but now I held it back because it felt so good that I never wanted it to end, and because…

"I need you to say it, Ben," I panted, desperately on the edge.

Hand stroking down the side of my body, he paused, and for the first time, he looked as if he'd lost mastery of the situation. "What do you need me to say?"

"Tell me what I am tonight…"

He growled in my ear. "You're amazing. Sexy as sin. A joy to fuck."

"No…no…I need to hear the word."

He was close now, too. I could feel him pulsing inside me, noticed the tightening of the cords in his neck, and the grip of his hand at my hip. If I weren't so desperate, it might've been comical to watch him struggle with it. But it seemed deadly serious when he found the strength to look me right in the eye. "Tonight you were my little fucking whore."