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Deep in You

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I slide backwards across the bed, toward the dildo.

“On all fours,” he adds. “Face me.”

I turn to position myself in front of the thick cock, sticking straight out at hip height. Caleb leans over to grab my hips with one hand and the dildo with another. He guides me backwards until it’s poised at my entrance. Then he traces a finger along my slit, feeling the slick juices gathered there.

“Enjoying yourself, dirty girl?”

“So fucking much,” I murmur.

“I love how wet you are for me already.” He circles my entrance with a finger, teasing. I can feel the dildo pressing against my slit too, pushed aside by his thick, strong fingers.


“I want to see your cock. I want to touch you.”

He presses his finger against my pussy harder, the tip just edging into me. “Patience, dirty girl. You’ll get to taste me soon enough.” He pushes again, just hard enough to slide the tip of his finger into me. He goes slowly, so slow it’s maddening, driving himself into me an inch at a time. “First, I want a taste of you.”

I groan and buck against his hand as he pushes his finger as far inside my pussy as possible. I can feel him curling his finger against my inner wall, brushing down the front. When he adds a second finger, I can’t help moaning. When he adds the third, I’m already twisting my hips along his fingers, trying to thrust. But he holds me in place with his other hand, makes me sit still while he thrusts all three fingers inside me.

I can see the thick bulge in his pants, inches from my face now. Teasing. He’s visible even through his jeans, and I can only guess how large he’ll be exposed. My mouth goes wet just thinking about it.

He starts to slide his fingers in and out, fucking me slowly, all three digits thick enough to stretch my tight pussy, make me feel full.

Just when I’m starting to feel the tight, sweet ache in my clit, especially when he curls his fingers to graze my G-spot on their way along my inner walls, he pulls his hand out. I cry out faintly in protest.

Caleb just smirks at me as he lifts his fingertips to his mouth and, one at a time, slowly licks them clean. I catch my breath, watching him stare at me, ogling my naked body as he licks my pussy juices from his fingers.

“So fucking sweet,” he murmurs. Then he reaches for his shirt and pulls it off in one swift motion. I catch a glimpse of his six-pack, his chiseled pecs, and the tight V pointing down to his crotch. Then I’m distracted all over again, because he starts to unbutton his jeans.

Then he stops.

I grit my teeth, frustrated.

He’s still smirking at me.

“I want you to push that dildo inside you, Carmine.”

I reach between my legs to feel for it. Position the head against my pussy entrance again, and slowly slide myself backwards. The moment the head pops between my pussy lips, I have to moan. It’s so thick, it stretches me even more than his fingers did.

“Farther,” he urges.

I lean back. As I do, he inches the zipper down his fly. For every inch I push the dildo inside me, he shoves his jeans down his hips, until they hang at his knees, and only his boxers separate me from his cock. I can see him standing upright at attention now, hard as hell, the shape of the head visible through the thin fabric of his boxers.

I want him. But I know he won’t give himself to me easily. So I keep easing back until the dildo is fully inside my tight, wet pussy. Then I lift my head and meet his gaze.

“Fuck the dildo, dirty girl,” he orders.

I start to rock, forward and back, slowly.

As I do, he yanks his boxers down after his jeans.

The moment his cock springs free, my mouth begins to water. Fucking. Hell.

He’s huge.

I eye the veins along his shaft, the thick head bright red with lust. He has to be at least 9” long, and at least 3” thick. Bigger than the dildo that I’m currently impaled on, and that’s so thick my pussy is already aching from it. I reach for him without thinking, unable to resist.

He just grins down at me, eyes hooded and dark with lust, and lets me take his cock in my hands.

“Keep fucking, Carmine,” he reminds me, and I continue to rock back and forth along the dildo, moving a little faster now as my body heats with desire. I trace my hands along his length, then peer up at him through my lashes. His head tilts back a little, and I glory in the sight of his perfect body above me, the way his eyes catch mine and burn red-hot with lust.

“Can I taste you?” I ask.

“Lick my cock,” he says. “But don’t put me in your mouth. Not yet. You need to earn this spit-roast, dirty girl.”

I don’t need telling twice. I lean down to trail my tongue along the side of his cock, from the base all the way to the tip. Fuck. He even tastes good—the taste is salty and heady at once, the same heavy masculine scent that permeates his body. He smells like sex and fire all at once, and I cannot get enough of it.



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