Home For The Holidays
I lifted her halfway up my cock then brought her back down nice and slow, once, twice, three times. She still made sounds of frustration, and when she pounded her tiny fists against my chest and shoulders, I knew what she needed. There will be times in our lives when I temper her need with what’s best for her, now is not one of those times.
“Okay, wait!” I pulled her off my cock, and she growled at me. Until I turned her onto her hands and knees in front of me and drove my cock home. The sound she made was almost animalistic, and I almost pulled out, thinking that I’d gone too far. But then she flung her head back, canted her ass and pushed back onto my cock and grunted.
For the first few strokes, I didn’t have to move; she fucked herself back onto my cock wildly until it became too much for me. Just watching her ass bounce on my cock made the shit harder, and precum and cunt nectar ran out of her freely, coating her thighs and mine. I was still listening to her moans, gauging where she was at.
I haven’t told her yet, about her penchant for pain during sex, and I’m sure as innocent as she is, it hasn’t quite registered with her. “Samantha, close your eyes.” She looked back over her shoulder at me; I’m sure more because I’d stopped moving than anything else. “Go ahead, do it; you’ll like it, I promise.”
As soon as she complied, I smacked her ass hard again and again until it turned red with the imprint of my fingers showing. Her pussy flowed nonstop, and she tore the sheets off the bed. I squeezed the nape of her neck, another favorite erogenous zone for the masochist, and she arched her back deep like a cat about to strike. But when I bit into the spot, she went nuts.
If my cock wasn’t lodged inside her deep, she would’ve thrown me off with her wild thrashing. As it was, I had to hold on for dear life as she fucked herself wildly back and forth on my cock. I probably didn’t even need to be here at this moment. Right now, to her, I was nothing more than a cock to give her pleasure. I didn’t mind, though; I was having too much fun watching her enjoy herself.
* * *
SAMANTHA
* * *
Why can’t I get enough of this, of him? The deeper he goes, the more I want of him. There was a burning between my thighs where his width stretched me and another more intense pain deep inside where his length kept knocking against something deep inside me. I should’ve paid more attention in biology class because I have no understanding of what’s happening to me.
All I know is that I never want this feeling to end. I thought I liked being on my back with my legs wrapped around him as he slid in and out of me nice and slow until the very end when he seemed to lose control and just start pounding into me at will.
The doctor had suggested that I take control and be the one on top so that I could control how deep he went, and though I enjoyed both those positions, nothing came close to having him pound into my body from behind.
He was hitting all the right places inside me, as was evident by the wetness that leaked out of me each time he pulled out to slam back in again. There was a slight sheen of sweat forming on my skin, and I felt flushed from the heat growing inside me. My whole body felt like one big tingling sensation after another, but that place between my thighs and the other deep inside… there are no words to describe. And then I felt his teeth in my neck…
I jumped and sat upright in bed at the sound of the phone ringing and looked around as if in a daze with my mind still halfway back there in the memory. “Hello?” I knew it was Jared on the other end, but he didn’t say anything for a while, and then, “Why the hell are you breathing like that? Never mind, hang up, and Facetime me right now.”
The phone went dead in my ear, and I pulled myself from the fog and got up to grab my MacBook Pro from across the room on my desk. My legs were shaky, and I felt that burning need for him that never went away and, after all these months together, only seem to get worse.
It wasn’t until I saw his face that the fog cleared, and I realized that he was pissed. “Where are you?” Oh dear, I know that tone. That’s the tone he had when one of my classmates called to ask me for some missed notes, and I stayed on the phone too long, which after some thought might not have been an issue had it not been for the fact that I started laughing at something the guy who I hardly knew had said.