And somehow, the situation turned a corner then. What had previously been boiling rage somehow melted into something steamier, the atmosphere heavy with sensuality. Because instead of slapping me again, instead of going to town on my flaming red ass cheeks, instead, this time Mr. White massaged my buttocks, his big palms squeezing the flesh, like he was rubbing the pain away.
“Unnnh,” I moaned, head dropping limply. “Ohhh.”
I wasn’t sure if I was groaning from the lingering sting or the feel of his hand on my soft flesh. But whatever it was, the waves carried me, I was no longer a thinking, fighting female, but rather one floating in a sea of sensuality, lost again to this big man.
“Ohhhh,” I moaned again, boobies smashed against his strong legs. And sure enough, there was a twitch beneath my stomach, the feel of something hard as iron, digging into my flesh. Could it be? Could the spanking, the touch of my assflesh against his hands, have aroused Mr. White? Did he love feeling my butt, watching as the cheeks shook and bounced with every slap of his fist, growing hot under his palm?
Evidently so because before I knew it, those clever fingers slipped beneath my panties and began stroking the softness within.
“Unnnh,” I moaned again, lost to desire. And oh god, that snake below my stomach jerked hard this time, Jared’s arousal undeniable.
“That’s right,” he ground out once more, voice gravelly. “This is what bad girls get. You want it, baby? You want it?”
Because roughly, the big man gripped my panties in his hand, the fabric scrunched into a tight line between my ass cheeks and pulled up, hard. Oh god, oh god, the material rubbed against my clit unbearably then, arousing me, a guttural moan escaping my lips as I twisted in his lap.
“Unnh!” I cried out. And the big man chuckled.
“Yeah that’s what I call a vaginal wedgie,” he ground out. “Wedgies for ladies, feels good against that hard clit, huh? Feels good?” he asked, pulling the material tighter, bisecting my butt cheeks as the panties scraped against my sensitive nub.
And something happened then that made him laugh all the harder. Because I was so turned on by this sex play, so unbelievably, erotically aroused that my pussy spurted then. It happens sometimes when I’m juiced, my cunt gets really slick and wet and let’s go with a burst of hot liquid, the nectar running in streams down my legs. And right now, ass up in his lap, there was no way I could hide it from him. My hips jerked a bit, insides growing tense and then oh god, it happened. I felt the squirt against my inner thighs, the unmistakable spray of ambrosia drenching my nether lips, and I could tell Mr. White noticed too because his hand immediately dropped and stroked the juices into my skin, massaging my most sensitive part.
“Mmm, baby feels good,” he rumbled, fingers hot against my quivering puss. “Baby feels real good, you’re real turned on.”
And I couldn’t deny it because at that very moment, I squirted again, just a little bit, right into his palm. It was so embarrassing, I’ve never done it twice in a row in such a short period. But chalk it up to the billionaire, there was something about Mr. White that broke through all my barriers, made me melt into a puddle, and the nectar oozed out once more, right into his hands.
“Oh my god,” I squirmed slightly, trying to wriggle around, meeting his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” I panted. “I didn’t mean to.”
But the big man seized my gaze with his own, that blue fire penetrating and direct, hot with desire.
“Naw don’t worry about it, baby,” he growled. “Because I like it. See how much I like it, honey.”
And with that, he lifted his palm to his mouth, licking the pungent fluid off his fingers. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, his tongue traced a trail of goo before swallowing, a delicious smile on his lips.
“Like I said, baby, I love women, and female nectar is one of my favorite drinks,” he rumbled lazily. “If I could survive on pussy juice alone, I’d do it, hell yeah, I’d be on it a second.”
I flushed then, heat flaring in my chest and running down my breasts before coming to a sweet stop in my cunt, the warmth making me ooze again. Because drinking pussy juice to survive? Choosing that over water and food? Oh my god, it was so wrong, so dirty and nasty, but I loved it.
Because I loved everything having to do with this man. I wasn’t even his prisoner anymore, his arm was no longer a steel bar across my back, trapping me. I could get up, I could pull my skirt down and act the outraged sissy, stomping out of the apartment without another word. But that’s not what I wanted. That wasn’t how I wanted this night to end. Despite the fact that I’d only met Mr. White hours ago, I was desperate to have more of him, desperate for whatever he’d give.