Page 7 of Bite Your Tongue
“Fuck, you’re so big,” she says, somewhere between a whine and a moan.
“Take it slow if you need to,” I murmur. Fuck, I may need her to take it slow so I don’t fucking come inside of her instantly, like I’m losing my virginity or some shit. “You feel so fucking good. You’re filled to the brim with me, baby. Just how I bet you like it.”
She’s soaked, and I’m sure pre-cum is dripping out of my dick, lubricating her and making me fit a little easier. Her hips start to roll, and she grabs my seat as she bounces.
She’s making the truck rock, I’m sure. She fucks me like I’m her personal fuck doll—which I will gladly be anytime.
“That’s it, baby. Ride,” I practically bark, planting my hands on her hips.
I don’t even need to use my strength to thrust her back and forth on my dick; she’s doing it all on her own.
“Ryder,” she moans, moving her hands to my shoulders and digging her nails into my skin.
She’s taking what she needs from me, and I fucking love the show. I could watch her like this all day, where she’s greedy and desperate to make her pussy come. She’s not worried about pleasuring me; she’s just chasing down her desire, and I’ve never been so happy to be fucking used.
“I’m coming,” she cries out.
I squeeze my eyes shut, thinking about anything that’ll stop me from coming myself. I’m not ready yet. I need more. I mean, fuck … I never want this to end. I’d love to fuck her for the whole night. Eternity even because she feels that good. But when the base of my balls tingle, I swear it’s all over, and I almost give in. Lucky for me, a truck driving by startles me, stopping me from blowing my load right here.
Her movements slow, almost spasmodic before finally stopping.
“Why don’t you spin around and hold on to the steering wheel, beautiful? Let me fuck you from behind.”
Her legs are shaky, so it takes a little bit of help from me to get her spun around, but this time, when she lowers herself down onto my aching cock, I glide seamlessly because she’s fucking soaked.
“Hold on to the steering wheel tightly, baby,” I murmur against her back. “Bounce on my cock. Show me how badly you want to come again.”
I grip her waist tightly, digging my fingertips into her soft skin. Her thick, luscious ass is splayed across my thighs, making my balls fucking tingle with need.
As she moves herself up and down, I help her this time, thrusting her faster and harder down onto my cock.
“You’re so deep,” she cries out, and I can’t tell if it’s from pleasure or agony.
“God, I love fucking you this way,” I grunt, my neck veins bulging. “You’re taking this cock so fucking good.”
I love the fucking view of her like this—back to me as she takes my dick so deep that she hisses every now and then. I slide one hand up until I’m gripping her hair and it’s tangled in my fingers. When I give it a slight tug, she fucks me faster, moaning out, telling me without words that she’s okay with rough. Given the green light, I pull harder, thrusting her forcibly up and down on my dick.
“Fucking A, I’m so deep,” I growl, bending forward and biting down on her back. “Christ, I’m about to blow my fucking cum inside of you.”
“Yes,” she moans, barely choking the word out. “I’m … coming again.”
I slide my hand around to the front of her neck, only putting a little pressure but gripping gently, until her pussy clenches around my dick so tightly, pulling me deeper somehow. Her thrusts become shorter but quicker, and she’s so fucking loud that anyone walking by would no doubt hear her screams.
“Fuck, Ryder.”
My cock pulsates, spewing cum so deep inside of her that I’ll be with her for days. I grit my teeth while my whole body spasms.
With my breathing labored, I press my forehead to her back. “Christ almighty, Sawyer. You took me for a fucking ride.”
She cranes her neck to partially glance back at me. “You’re welcome,” she breathes out. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to be getting home.”
“So soon?” I cock my head to the side playfully. “No cuddles or anything? Maybe another round of drinks inside?”
“No thanks,” she says sweetly before sliding off of me and climbing over to the other side. Pulling her skirt down, she grabs her panties and yanks them on before reaching into the backseat for her jacket. She turns toward me, giving me a sly smirk. “Thanks again, Pretty Boy. That was fun.”
“I can’t tell ifPretty Boyis a compliment or not,” I say, tucking my cock back in and pulling my briefs and jeans on. “Either way, you’re welcome for those two great orgasms.”
“I feel like you should thank me. I did all the work,” she deadpans. “And I call you Pretty Boy because you look like an American Eagle model.” She giggles. “You, sir, are definitely the prettiest NHL player to ever grace the ice.”
