Coaxing the Roughneck
“Cindy,” he rasps, scooping me up into his arms and rocking me. “I didn’t mean to do that. Are you okay?” His big chest starts to heave quickly, as if he’s on the verge of hyperventilating. “You were choking—”
“I’m fine.” I lean up to kiss his mouth, running my fingertips down the side of his face. “Put me back on my knees.”
He’s already shaking his head. “No.”
“Please.”
“No more,” he growls, eyes a little wild.
I’m not given the chance to protest again because Butch is turning, settling my backside on the table and bracketing me in with his thickly muscled arms. “You will bring yourself off, like we discussed.” He’s still visibly upset, but not enough to keep his hands from climbing my thighs, pushing my skirt all the way to my hips. “No more cock for my little girl.”
“You can’t keep it from me forever,” I sob—and I don’t even recognize the woman saying these words. It’s as though I’ve transformed. Become one half of a relationship I didn’t know I needed until I met Butch. But here I am, pouting like a child who isn’t getting her way. The behavior is nothing like me, but it’s right when I’m exhibiting it to this man. It’s our dynamic and it’s natural and without judgement—but not without conflict.
Butch grips my chin and tilts up my face. “I said no,” he growls, right up against my mouth. “Touch my cock and get that ass spanked. Hear me?”
Keeping our slippery lips pressed together, I run my fingertips down his corrugated abs, digging my nails into his hard packed muscle ever so slightly. “Is that supposed to sound like a punishment?” I whisper.
He makes a sound of frustration and then my panties are being torn clean off my body. We remain with our mouths flush, panting, Butch’s giant body wedged between my thighs. His thickness rests sideways on my belly, harder than ever, and my hands are dying to wrap around and stroke, but he must read my intention, because he manacles my wrists. “I won’t hurt you, Cindy. I won’t.” He’s breathing so hard, he blows back the hair resting on my shoulders. “You’re only allowed to touch your pussy. You’re going to play with it for me and I’m going to jack off on it.”
The fire inside me is stoked by his words.
My panties are soaked, flesh swollen. The bud between my legs throbs with the need to be touched. I’ve been so focused on satisfying him that my need to orgasm has gone unnoticed until now. But oh…oh my lord, the thought of touching my private flesh in front of him breaks me out in hot shivers.
Butch looks down at the juncture of my thighs, a vein throbbing in his temple. “Look at your wet little panties. You were enjoying that big dick in your mouth right up until you started choking, huh, baby?”
“I liked the choking, too,” I blurt in a rush of honesty.
He surges forward with a close-lipped roar, tearing the skirt off my hips, rendering my completely naked. Naked and whimpering in front of this giant. At his mercy, if he’ll only let me be. “When I let go of your hands, you put those fingers between your legs. On that shiny little virgin cunt. Daddy is going to watch you play until his balls are ready to empty all over those bare lips. You understand me?”
“Yes,” I whisper, the authority in his tone resonating. Fortifying me.
“Good girl.”
He releases my hands, watching me warily. Eagerly.
Maintaining eye contact, I lean back on my left palm, bringing my right one to my mound. Kneading the hill of my sex once, twice, before allowing my middle finger to part my wet flesh. A shudder passes through me and I spread my thighs open, wanting him to watch. Enjoying being on display for this man and this man only. The way he begins to wheeze, his erection bobbing up into a perpendicular tower, makes my actions all the more rewarding.
“Tell me what to do, Daddy,” I murmur, opening my thighs another inch, my hips painfully restless, a storm already beginning to gather inside of me.
His breaths are ragged. “Make a V with your fingers. Pull those lips apart a little and show me the pearl up top. The one I had my tongue all over earlier.”
Sensation spirals so tightly in my nipples that I gasp, my toes curling where they dangle off the table. He’s so massive in front of me, bare chested, sweating, that thick manhood in his hands and being pumped, pumped, pumped in a tight fist. And watching him makes me throb, makes me burn, so I do as I’m told, easing apart my delicate flesh and letting him look his fill, that fist of his moving faster. Frantic.
“Goddamn, that is some fresh little virgin meat. I’d sell my soul to fuck it. I would just pop that cherry, baby, I’d burst it like a bubble riding your cunt the first time.” His head falls back on his shoulders, the sound of his moan filling the laundry room. “Fuck. I can smell you. Smells like juicy honey.”