Hold On

“Make me happy now.” I feel more than hear the words. “Give it to me.”

When his thick finger moves inside my opening, curving forward and touching a spot I’ve never felt before, I explode. His words release me, and I come so hard I scream his name and almost believe what he said about God watching us.

It’s as though I’m giving thanks to my heavenly father I shake and quiver, galaxies of stars dancing behind my eyelids.

My body twists and convulses as his mouth continues its assault, sending me into orbit. His finger pumps inside of me as I hear the wetness being lapped up by his enthusiastic tongue.

It’s too much. I need a minute. “Please.” I reach down and try to push his head away. “It hurts now.”

The next instant, his hands are on my wrists, hard and tight, pulling them to the sides as his mouth redoubles its efforts, and my thighs slap against his cheeks as I raise my hips, trying to twist away.

“Lie still,” he commands, and he pulls my arms downward, making my pussy lodge harder against his sucking mouth. I whimper and try to relax, but I’m so sensitive every touch of his lips and tongue has me whining and my hips involuntarily jerking. My body stiffens with the effort of trying to do as he says, and when his assault momentarily subsides, I let out a deep sigh.

“We’re done when I say we’re done.”

I look down to see the danger in his eyes, but I’m not scared. He lowers his face again and brings me to another screaming climax that has resting birds bursting from the trees.

I’m begging for rest, but he gives me no break. The next round of orgasms come so hard, euphoric and painful at the same time, I feel myself gush, soaking Marshall’s face, and the next thing I know is silence and darkness as my body goes slack.

Nine

Emmy

“JESUS.” MARSHALL’S face hovers over mine as I regain focus. “You trying to kill me, babygirl?”

I shake my head but can’t form words, the vibrations from the orgasms still humming through my body.

“I think I passed out…”

“I think you did, too. You scared the shit out of me.” His lips come to mine, gentle and loving, as warm palms cup my cheeks, holding me solid and steady.

“Well, next time when I beg you to stop, maybe you’ll listen,” I whisper into his soft kiss as seagulls screech overhead.

Next time. Please, God, let there be a next time.

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I reach down and run my hand up the hard muscle of his thigh until I reach his crotch, giving what I’m assuming are his balls a squeeze and reveling in the moan that falls from his lips.

“Baby.”

I want him so badly I can barely breathe.

“You made a deal.” I inch my face back so he can see the determination in my eyes. “You said I could kiss you anywhere. I want to kiss you here.”

I give him another soft squeeze, then run my hand upward until I find the thick, hard length that has my mind spinning.

“Only if you’re sure,” he half grunts. “I can’t promise I’ll be gentle. I’ve been dreaming of fucking that mouth of yours since you said hello to me yesterday.”

The harsh clip of his words only has me wanting him more, and I ease myself down onto the patio, taking a pillow with me and maneuvering it under my knees.

“I want to be comfortable. I want to be down here a long time.”

Marshall stares at me for a long moment, and I fear he’s going to reject my offer. Instead, he stands, the zipper of his pants in front of my face, the outline of the massive erection making my mouth water.

“Take me out, little girl. Be careful what you wish for…”

My hands work in a frenzy, his belt, button, zipper. As I work below, I look up and see him strip his T-shirt, his chest a wonder of just the right amount of dark hair and deep indigo tattoos. The breeze off the lake is warm and cool at the same time, my body processing so many different sensations I’m on overload.

I work his jeans and boxers down, his penis bounding out from the restriction like a solider on leave after a grueling tour, ready and waiting to indulge in all things carnal.

I’ve seen men’s cocks in pictures and some videos, but Marshall’s is more beautiful than anything I’ve seen before. It’s not the size—or not just the size, because it rivals anything I could imagine—but its shape is perfect.

Thick, but not grotesque, and long in a way I know would hurt, but I know would be worth it.

How I know that, I’m not sure; I guess it’s just instinct. The head is engorged and shiny-smooth, with two thick, intersecting veins running along the side as though their only purpose is to pump blood into the tip.