“Is it painful?” His neck is straining, and his breathing is hard.
“No.” I sigh. “It’s good.”
“Thank fuck.” And he drops me all the way in. I let out a yelp. “Kayla?”
"I'm good, I'm good," I answer as I begin moving. I don't think Justin understands how big his dick is. For him, it's something to brag about; for me, it's something I have to accommodate for.
His hands come under my thighs as he helps my movement as I feel my own muscles begin to shake. I'm so out of shape; who knew that riding a dick could be so physically taxing.
Justin quickens the pace when I lean to kiss him. He tastes like sin…and me. I dive deeper into the kiss, and he speeds up even more. I grab his face with my hands, angling for a kiss, when he growls, lifts me up, and throws my back on the couch. Switching positions, he plunges into me with a force that knocks the breath out of me.
“Fuck, I can’t control it anymore. I’m sorry, Kay.” He says as he delivers punishing thrust after punishing thrust. He grabs my ankles and puts them on his shoulders, causing his heavy balls to begin slapping my ass.
In this position, he hits just the right spot. It’s close. It’s there. But not quite yet.
His movements are deliberate and hard. He grabs my waist as he slams himself into me with every thrust. He’s imprinting me with the hate we shared for so long, his newfound jealousy, and this overwhelming need with every thrust. Someone moans, and I think it's me.
“You need to come, baby. Now.” Sweat is dripping from his body onto me.
"I can't," I whisper in shame.
“Oh, baby. I’ll help you.” He tilts his head to the side, licking my ankle while still plunging in. “Do you need me to do that for you?”
“Yes,” I whisper. How broken am I if I'm just beginning my sexual journey but can only come from certain things?
“I love how naughty you are.” He bites the exposed skin on my ankle, leans forward, and plants his hand on my throat, squeezing it just a bit. He then presses his finger on my clit, rubbing it in circles, all the while thrusting in.
And I feel the wave coming. I open my mouth for a breath, but I can’t take one. Justin squeezes my throat tighter, not stopping the airflow, but just enough to make me a little lightheaded, and I explode.
I don't feel anything but waves of pleasure wash over me again and again and again. The feeling of being powerful, boneless, and soulless is wonderful, and I don’t want it to end.
A loud growl shatters my haze just as Justin grabs my thighs and pulls me onto him. He does a few powerful, jerky thrusts before spilling inside. His head falls back, and he growls. That's easily the hottest and the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen.
Once he comes down, he falls on top of me and buries his face in the crook of my neck.
We are silent for the next few minutes, trying to return from the fog our brains are in now.
Everything around us is wet. He is sweaty, I'm sweaty, and the couch is wet from our liquids. There is a sea of us combined between my legs, and it's pouring out.
“Justin, I need to use the bathroom.”
"Yeah." He lifts himself up and looks like he's struggling to do so. "There." He points to the door. I stand up and scuddle to the bathroom. As expected, it’s a mess. I dig under the sink and find a few packs of wet wipes. I clean myself as best as I can, fix my dress, and walk out.
He’s standing by the fridge, drinking water from a bottle and looking like he just got thoroughly fucked. By me. A feeling of pride spreads in my chest. When he notices me, he walks over and hands me the bottle. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”
"Okay," I whisper as I take a huge, greedy sip.
He’s back a moment later, finding me in the same place. “Let’s go.” He grabs my hand and tows me to the bedroom. He lets go of me, walks to the dresser, and digs inside. "This should fit." He says as he passes me a grey t-shirt.
I look at it as if it was a spider. “Why?”
“Why what?” He sounds genuinely confused.
“Why do I need a shirt?”
“To sleep in. Unless you want to sleep naked. I don’t mind.” He shrugs.
“Am I sleeping here?” I look around.
