Page 35 of Red Flag Bull
She’s fucking gorgeous, leaning back on her elbows, with her dark hair loose and flowing. Her eyes are closed, lashes shivering against her rosy cheeks. She parts her lips when she gasps for breath between moans, and her tits…
They’re dripping. Two pale milky rivulets trickle down her stomach, and between that and her shining cunt — open and ready for me, my brain fucking short circuits.
I grab her hips, shove my boxers down enough to free my desperate cock, and then thrust it so hard inside her cunt that the air leaves her lungs with a satisfying oof. I latch onto her breast and fuck her like a wild man, while I suck her nipple deeply and firmly, so she’ll give me what I want.
Sweet milk flows into my mouth. I gulp it down, and violently clutch her ass to keep her close, lest she get the fucking notion to bolt on me again.
Not this time. This time she’s fucking staying. This time I’ll give her a better fucking reason.
I fuck her harder. Faster.
Mandi grips at my shirt, my skin — anything she can sink her nails into. “Jason. Fuck.”
I switch breasts and suck hard, to get her flowing. She wraps her arms around my head and clutches me to her breast, as she angles her hips to take me deeper, meeting me for every thrust. “Yes.”
She fucking loves it — is getting tight around my cock, for the love of my sucking her milky tits. She crumbles in my arms, slowly at first, and then all at once, pulling me with her as she bucks her hips, sprays milk down my throat, and chokes the cum from my cock with her perfect orgasmic embrace.
Her gorgeous cunt ripples tightly around me, as I suckle at her, and I let myself go, feeling the rush of relief wash through me like a calmness I haven’t felt since she left.
I empty myself into her depths — spurt after spurt of my seed, as if I’ve been saving up for twenty fucking years. The sheer volume is hard to believe, and it messes us both, spilling from her every time we move.
I moan into her breast, and she shudders beneath me with a low hum of appreciation. Her pussy quivers when my mouth clamps her breast to swallow or suck a little harder. And each time it happens, I think about her uterus sucking in my sperm, which makes my cock strain, and I cream her a little more.
My mind is made up.
She’s staying. I’ll keep her bound if I have to. Anything to keep her from leaving again. I’m feeding her, I’m milking her, and I’m fucking her — bare and often.
She’s having my baby.
14
MANDI
Fuck.
Being fucked by Jason King is like being thrust from a frypan into the fire, only to then have the earth crack open below the flaming coals and everything engulfed by liquid hot magma.
He made me an absolute mess. A slippery, cum-filled mess, devoid of stamina or muscle tone and therefore the ability to move — except for the involuntary spasms that periodically grip my vagina, because Jason broke its fucking springs or something.
He put me to bed, to recover, and I can hear him rattling around in the kitchen and making calls in a very boss-like tone.
Guilt washes over me when I realize it’s mid-morning on a week day. He’s meant to be working. I’m interrupting his life, and I need to not do that. I don’t want to change his important plans or be a burden.
I slide awkwardly to the edge of the bed. My thighs are smeared with so much cum and more dribbles out of me whenever I move. I’m beginning to think there’s no way I’m not going to soak his mattress.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jason arrives just as I get one foot to the floor. “Going to run out on me again, before I can apologize for whatever I did that drove you away the first time?”
A little unnerved by his tone, I pull my foot back into the bed and ease my head back to the pillow. “You didn’t drive me away.”
“Don’t speak if you’re going to lie,” he rumbles. “Where were you going?”
“To the bathroom, to wash up,” I reply quietly.
He grunts. “Sounds like something you’d need to do before making a run for it. Stay where you are.” He enters the adjoining bathroom, runs the water, and then returns with a steaming cloth.
“I wasn’t making a run for it,” I say as he sits on the edge of the bed next to me.
“Then why would you be in a hurry to wash?” he asks without pause. “Does the evidence of my pleasure disgust you?”
