I haven’t used her up.
With a sharp intake of breath, I slap her tit.She widens her eyes but doesn’t stop me.
The pink blush blooms like a haze on her plump flesh.
And her nipple, so hard, so ready.
I slap the tit again as I thrust, and then I pinch her nipple.
As hard as I fucking can.
She squeals.
I should ask if she’s okay.Ask if she wants to stop.
But I don’t.
I pull out, flip her over onto the table, and thrust back into her from behind.
I set a brutal pace, each thrust making the table jerk and creak beneath us.Her cries echo in the room, filling my ears with sweet sounds of pain and pleasure that stir up the primal beast within me.I reach around her, find her throbbing clit, work it, work it, work it…
She’s writhing beneath me, trying to match my rhythm, desperately seeking her release.She clutches at the edge of the table.I grab her hair, gripping it at the roots and yanking her head back to expose her delicate neck.
“Say my name,” I demand.“Scream it.”
Her eyes meet mine in the nearby mirror, filled with a mixture of pain and pleasure.The need in them is almost tangible.
“Jason,” she breathes out, before it turns into a scream as I thrust harder into her.“Jason!”
The sound of my name on her lips is more drugging than any drink or pill.I spank her creamy ass, hard.The blush on her cheeks erupts like a sunrise.
I smack her again.
Again.
Again.
Her cries turn into a litany of my name, a beautiful scream that sends me barreling toward the edge.I feel the tension in her body rising, feel the muscles under my hands clenching as she approaches her climax.
“Come for me, Angie,” I growl.
Her body seizes, and she clenches around me as her orgasm rips through her.The sight and sensation of her pleasure shatters my control.
With a strangled roar, I follow her over the edge.
Hot pulses of release tear through me, each more intense than the last.My vision blurs with the pleasure of it, with the sweet agony of my orgasm.I collapse on top of her, my breath ragged and uneven against the skin of her back.
The room falls silent but for our heavy breathing.The smell of sweat and sex fills the air, and I inhale deeply, letting it infuse every part of me.
Then I help Angie turn over so she’s lying on her back again, and I pull her into my arms and carry her to her bedroom where I lay her gently down on the soft comforter.
I should ask for her forgiveness.
But I don’t.
I should thank her.
But I don’t.
