Billie and the Russian Beast - 50 Loving States, South Carolina - Quarantales

“How about you?” I ask, voice shaking.

“Yes, me too,” he answers. “But we will not have sex without condom during these days. I do not wish for any unintentional impregnation. My family has real problem with that.”

Okay, what?

But I probably don’t want to know.

“I don’t want to get pregnant either,” I answer. “I’m not on the pill. And this situation is already horrible enough without adding an accidental baby on top of it.”

His hands tighten over my hips at my words. “Is this situation horrible?” he asks. “Are you suffering right now?”

His thumbs circle as he asks these questions. Funny, I had never thought my hips as an erogenous zone, but each circle of his thumbs sends shivers up my spine.

Still, I answer, “Y-y-yes, I’m suffering. Mentally at least.”

“Then we will have to make it so you do not think too much while we are together.”

With that declaration, his right-hand moves, and his thumb find something else to circle.

My breath seizes.

“Do you like that, pet?”

A question. Dammit. I have to answer. “Yes,” I admit.

“Are you still thinking. About how horrible this is? How wrong?”

Round and round my pearl his thumb goes, gliding easily because I’m so wet.

“No,” I admit.

My toes curl reflexively into the carpet, and my breasts tingle. It feels like I’ve got two knots now. One in my belly, drawing tighter and tighter and one in my throat, choking me.

“No, it’s not horrible,” he agrees with cruel laughter in his voice. “In fact, you want something from me now, don’t you?”

His thumb feels so good on my clit. Somehow better than my own touch. I usually just get in there and rub until I come. A quick and dirty practicality meant to get sex off my mind so that I can fall asleep or study. But there’s something about the way Cheslav does it. Holding on tight to my hip with one hand while applying the right amount of pressure to the engorged bud between my legs with the other. It’s a slow burn, building faster and faster.

I don’t quite register that he’s asked me a question until he says, “You will answer me. There is something you want from me, da?”

“Da,” I answer.

“Ask.”

Not a question. Another command.

“Keep doing that. Maybe a little harder.”

He immediately stops.

I let out a disappointed squeak. Why did he stop?

“It has been a very long night, and I must get some sleep. So I will save the proper teasing for later in the day,” he says, patting my hips like we’re all done here.

Okay, to reiterate, this situation is all kinds of messed up. I shouldn’t be here. And he shouldn’t be touching me like we didn’t just meet…I glance at a silver clock on the interior wall. Oh God, was it really less than an hour ago?

I shouldn’t want to go any further with this guy I just met. Yet my shoulders deflate with disappointment as if I’ve lost the chance at a huge present.

But then he unzips his pants and pulls out his cock.

My eyes widen. It’s hard and long and thick and dripping with pre-cum.

At least until he covers it with a condom he pulls out of his blazer pocket.

Then he pats his lap.

“Climb on.”

Whoa…whoa…whoa! This is definitely not a situation I ever thought I’d find myself in.

But no hesitating, I remind myself.

I carefully place a knee on either side of his lap and start to lower myself down.

He stops me at the tip though.

“Watch,” he commands, his face a tight grimace of lust. “Watch me split your wet pussy open for the first time.”

His dirty words make something clench inside of me. And, I do as commanded, my belly hot and heavy with need.

I watch in a fascinated daze, as his cock slowly pushes into my soaking wet slit.

I groan at the invasion. He’s bigger than anyone else I’ve ever been with. And there’s so much pressure. Even as wet as I am, let out several quick breaths, wondering if he’d fit.

But the lips of my pussy stretched impossibly wide over his huge erection until he was all the way in, filling me up in a way that sent delicious trickles of pleasure through my core.

Then I keep on watching as he starts moving below me. In and out. In and out. The motion slicker and slicker each time.

I’m not sure when it happens, but soon we’re moving together. Undulating in a synchronous rhythm I wouldn’t have thought possible outside of dancing.

“Cup your breasts, krasotka,” he commands, his voice a rough whisper. “Give me something to watch as I take you.”

I do as he commands and find my nipples hard as pebbles. I roll them a couple of times, then keen, when the action sends an erotic bolt of pleasure straight to my pussy.

“No, don’t come too fast. I want to enjoy this. Leave your breasts alone now and wait for my command.”