“Do you want me in it or just my dick?” he asks, teasing me as I take him in.
I shake my head. “I don’t think all of you will fit in onephoto.” I look up at him. “Have you broken any women with that?”
He levels me a serious glare, but all the while, his lips twitch with a smirk. “I have not broken any women. In fact, it’s been eight years since I’ve made love.” The smirk falls away as he takes my hand, guiding me onto the bed. “Get on your hands and knees,” he directs quietly.
Eight years. Eight years? My god. I do as he says, and when he presses my head and chest down, flush to the mattress, my ass still sticking up like a dog in heat, he begins smoothing his fingers through my hair. Collecting it gently, he says, “The reason I want to go slow with you, specifically Clara June, is because I see things with you. I see things happening between us that I’ve never seen before. I feel things I’ve never felt. And when I get the honor of knowing what it’s like to get inside you, I wanna feel you. All of you. Every clench,” he strokes his fingers through my slit and I moan into the mattress. “Every throb,” he says, teasing my entrance with slippery fingers. “Everything.” Once my hair is in his hand, rolled around his knuckles tightly, he tips my face to the side.
A heavy, hot weight comes down on the side of my face, along my temple and cheek. I stick out my tongue, making a blind swipe, and realize… he put his cock on my face. Holding me down, standing on his knees behind me, he pumps his hips slowly. His cock slides along my face, thick and hot, making my cunt pulse. He curls fingers inside of me, then releases my hair to use his hand, forcing his thumb on his shaft.
He continues these hypnotizing, rhythmic motions of sliding his cock over my face, each pass bringing his cockhead over my open, hungry mouth. “To feel everything, Ineed to get inside you bare, and that’s something we need to talk about.”
I nod. I moan. I’d agree to sell my soul to the devil himself right now if it meant more of Dean.
“So we’ll talk about that soon, alright?” he says, sliding his thick cock forward again, grunting through his thrust. Precum begins dripping from his cock, and each slide of him against my cheek tugs his foreskin back, sending a splatter of opaque liquid flying, my tongue out, desperate for molecules of it. Of him.
I nod, but search for his crown with my tongue. He laughs softly. “Look at you, mama, hungry for my cock, aren’t you?”
With the hand holding himself against me, he pumps himself a few times, then orders me to open my mouth. I can’t see him, but I can feel his body heat and sense the long thread of precum that drips from his slit onto my tongue, some of it dripping over my bottom lip and onto my chin.
“I’m waiting until we work it all out. And once we do, then I’ll sink into the best, tightest, wettest place in the world, and look into your eyes while I make you feel things you’ve never felt. I can promise that, Clara June, because I mean it. I will make you feel so good, I will put so many babies in you, you’ll have a belly with my baby in it forever. I’ll fuck you so much, you’ll be leaking my cum down your perfect thighs every day. You’ll have to excuse yourself to the restroom just to pull down your panties and ring them out, ringmycum out of them. My cum—mine, because that’s what you are—mine.”
I can’t take it anymore. His filthy mouth and his massive cock, all the promises to talk about our future—I reach beneath myself and find my clit, and get to stroking.
He lets me, rewarding me with more precome. I wish Icould see him. I wish I could see the flare in his eyes as he touches himself. I want to see him feeding me his arousal, and when he comes, I want to see it. I want to see the way that monstrous cock throbs and pumps. It’s probably a thing of beauty.
He bats my hand away, lodging three fingers to the hilt, curling them as he continues pumping his hips. His hot, steely cock is slippery against my cheek, and when I hear him groan, deep and rough, I imagine his lips pressed in a line, jaw set, stomach flexed. I imagine he’s close and restraint is being put to the test.
“Halfway,” he groans, “isn’t what either of us want, is it mama? You want everything, the same as me, don’t you?” Another hard slide of his cock against my jaw, more precum down my chin, soaking the bed. My cunt flutters, and desire coils tight in my belly. A low, simmering need fills my veins, every inch of me needing him, from the tips of my toes, to the top of my scalp.
I nod, moan. “Yes, Coach.” I roll my lips together, sensing a curtain of sweat on my back, beneath my knees. “Please, make me come, please,” I beg, his thick fingers rolling and straightening inside me, nudging the place that makes me unravel.
“You give me two, and I’ll give you a taste of halfway,” he barters, and right now, I’m so wet, so horny, so needy for him that I’d agree to anything. He leans down, hot breath and even hotter words dusting my ear. “You ready, mama?”
I nod.
The pad of Dean’s thumb drops to my clit as he curls his three fingers, the combination of pressure and pleasure, the heft of his cock along my face, his words, him, him, him… “I’m coming,” I whisper-moan, wanting to twist my face into the mattress and bury my sobs, but unable to turn my head away from him, away from his cock resting idly on my cheek, heavy, and full.
“So tight, so responsive, I love how fast you come for me,” he croons, using that word that sounds so electric on his tongue. He pulls his hand out, hollowing me of pleasure, then slaps my ass gently, muffling the sound as much as he can. “Now one more.”
I’m sensitive and swollen, and if I looked, probably bright red. “I can’t,”I whisper, writhing against the bed, but he doesn’t let me up. Instead, he strokes his cock against my cheek again and again, surging his hips forward in a cadence that has my clit humming for more in less than a minute.
“I’m gonna make you come again, so be ready,” he warns before sinking a finger deep inside me, using the tip of his pointer finger to tease my clit. It’s been two seconds, but I’m so eager, swollen, and knowing he’s in my house for the near future, sleeping feet away, all steel wall of muscle and Pringles can-sized dick.
“Dean,” I breathe out, warning him with my tone alone.
“You ready again?” His chuckle is quiet but dark, scraping the neediest places inside me. Another thrust, his erection slippery against my cheek. His finger nudges my clit, then swirls a figure eight around it, making my back arch. I’m toast. Completely done.
“Yes, Coach, I’m coming, I’m coming,” I murmur, my mind nearly exploding from how easily he unravels me. I thought I was fundamentally broken, and because I couldn’t even get myself off, I truly thought I’d never have these pleasures again.
He fingers me throughout my second orgasm, and just when I’m whimpering no, ready to tell him I can’t possibly go for three, he makes a noise I haven’t heard.
A groan, a plea, something rough and violent trapped inhis throat, like he, too is trying to be quiet, but fighting something so urgent and powerful, he’s struggling.
Then he comes, ribbons of pearly liquid pulse from his cockhead, rivering into my open mouth, shot after shot. I close my mouth after the fourth, moving his come around on my tongue, making room to collect more. When I open again, I’m gifted more shots, more hot come, thick and abundant, fed to me against the soundtrack of Dean’s raucous moans.
“Drink me down, mama, c’mon,” his voice is rawer than it’s ever been, stripped away of everything but his most carnal need. “Can’t wait to empty this inside you, get you pregnant for us,” he grunts and groans, and there’s so much release, so much come—I swallow three times.
And then he’s pulling back, stealing his cock away, moving around the bed to wipe up my face and pussy. He repositions me, head on the pillows, legs out. Naked, his cock not fully soft yet, he moves around the room, collecting things. First he sits me up, and tugs my nightgown on, righting it, then my hair. I can’t help but smile the entire time he does.
