She Wants It Rough

by Meegan Melons

  I never imagined it would be so easy to awaken such an insatiable lust for my body. I wonder if he ever goes down on his wife like this.

  Mr. Johnson pulls down on my pants from behind to reveal my big round ass, then spins me around by the waist while he's kneeling on the floor. I spread my legs apart for him when he squeezes my ass cheeks tight and pulls me in against his face, lapping on my pussy and curling his tongue to taste my insides.

  The tip of it slips just inside my entrance, and Mr. Johnson moans when he tastes the sweetness of my girl juices.

  He shakes his head and waggles his tongue inside me, slobbering thick spit between my thighs. I reach around to brush my fingers through his hair and bury his face between my ass. My back arches when I feel his tongue slipping in deeper.

  "Ungh!" I cry out when I feel Mr. Johnson stimulating my G-spot. My ass bucks against his face and my legs tremble. My mind goes numb; my insides convulse around his prodding tongue.

  My core spams and fluids gush from me, rolling off his chin while his warm saliva trickles down the inside of my legs. Mr. Johnson moans and slurps down every drop of my fluids in delight.

  He continues holding me by the ass while it shudders against him. When my hips finally stop shaking, my torso slumps forward and my arms hang low. The intense orgasm has made me numb from the waist down.

  I would collapse to the floor if it weren't for Mr. Johnson holding me up.

  After I catch my breath and sense the feeling returning to my extremities, I swivel back around to lift him up gently by the ears until he is standing again.

  "Now... let's have a look at that cock, shall we?" I dive a hand into his pants and wrap my fingers around his engorged penis. He groans and has to throw a hand on my shoulder for balance.

  The pulse of his throbbing cock beats in my hand; his heart is pounding so fast.

  "My my... you are excited, aren't you?" I say with a smirk. "How on Earth am I going to fit all of this down my naughty little throat?" I fake a pout, tugging on the thin skin of his shaft.

  My tongue darts to the corner of my mouth and traces across my upper lip, leaving a wet sheen of saliva. I cup his balls and tickle his scrotum while working at his belt buckle with the other hand.

  "Krista--are you sure this is a good--" I jerk him toward me and plunge my tongue into his throat to shut him up. There's no turning back now, Mr. Johnson. This is happening.

  I tug down on his zipper as we make out and lift his cock up by the balls to pull it out from his briefs. I trace a finger lightly from the base up to the neck, then wrap thumb and forefinger just below the head. Our lips separate and I get down on my knees and position his cock in front of my lips.

  My eyelids of glistening pink eye shadow drop as I focus in on his cock, planting tiny wet kisses around the tip. My lips hug around the neck as I lower my mouth onto his dick.

  Mr. Johnson groans when he feels my tongue swirling all around the head, my slippery lips inching their way down the shaft.

  "Mmm..." I moan, lapping on his dick. Deeper and deeper, I shove his cock farther into the depths of my throat. I have to suppress my gag reflex when the head enters into my esophagus.

  I choke and retch on his stiff dick, spurting up thick saliva that rolls down to the base. I cup my palms around his balls and try to stuff as much dick into my throat as I can possibly fit. I gag hard, and my throat clenches around the length of his shaft.

  I can't breathe, but I almost have it all down.

  "Holy shit, Krista!" His legs are trembling; he can barely stand. I gag again and thick, bubbly mucous comes jetting out from my nose. The stuff mixes with the tears rolling down my cheeks and trickles off my lips, wetting his pubes.

  "Pu--push!" I try to say in gargled words, spitting on his dick some more. Mr. Johnson grips the sides of my skull and jerks me down on his cock the rest of the way.

  My nose connects with his toned abdomen; my swollen throat compresses the whole of his cock. He holds me down on it far enough that my nose squishes against him, closing off my nostrils. My airways are completely obstructed. I squint hard and try to block out the pain from my mind.

  His cock slides in the slippery warmth of my throat as he rocks my head back and forth. I gulp and slurp and suck as my head bobs up and down rapidly.

  My lips leave a thick trail of dripping saliva along the shaft while I'm slobbering all over it, just trying not to puke. I'm becoming desperate for air, but I am determined to show Mr. Johnson just how good of a little whore I can be.

  .

  Again and again, he drills his cock down my esophagus, thrusting his pelvis with increasing speed. Mr. Johnson is just face-fucking me now.

  Then I feel his head twitch in the very back of my throat, and I know that I need to get him out of my mouth before he cums. I need him inside me for that.

  I grab hold of his waist and try to pry myself loose from his death grip around my skull. He is moaning and his head is tilted up toward the ceiling. I'll be damned if I'm going to let him finish in my mouth like this.

  I grunt and pry myself away from him, shaking my head free and throwing up his cock with the muscles in my throat. The giant thing emerges slowly from my lips, coated in thick bubbly drool.

  Then at last, I am all the way off. I fall backward onto the wooden floor of the dining room, gasping for air.

  "Jesus christ! You're so eager to cum already..." I say between breaths. I spread my legs wide, holding them at the knees. More fluids drip from my quivering pussy and pool around my puckered asshole. "You haven't even stuck your cock in this tight little pussy yet..." I say, frowning and rocking my hips side to side.

  "But, Krista--" A bunch of my spit dribbles from the tip of his cock onto the floor. "You could get--what if you--"

  "Don't worry, Mr. Johnson! It will be fine!" I lie. The truth is I stopped taking my birth control pills two weeks ago. I am definitely fertile now. If I can get him to cum inside me, I will almost certainly get pregnant.

  If he sticks his cock inside me, there's no way I'll let him pull out of me before he shoots his load. If Mr. Johnson decides to go through with fucking his naughty little neighbor, his seed is mine.

  "I--I really don't think--"

  "I bet I'm a lot tighter than your wife." He continues staring down at me on the floor, probably in a desperate battle with his conscience again. I tense the muscles of my core, tightening the walls of my pussy in anticipation.

  "Come here, Mr. Johnson..." I lick sensually around my lips. "Let me show you what a real pussy feels like."

  Then at last, I see the commitment in his eyes. He throws off his plain white shirt and gets down, putting himself over me between my legs. Then I gasp when I feel his shaft spreading my folds apart.

  He moans as it slips in my wetness while I'm gyrating my hips around, thoroughly coating his dick in my vaginal fluids.

  His hand moves with apprehension down to his member, slowly guiding the tip to my wet entrance. As he pushes in slightly, I can feel my tightness giving way to his girth.

  "Do it! Fuck me, Mr. Johnson... Please!" He grunts, thrusting forward with his pelvis until he enters me. My walls wrap tight around the head of his dick. But he pauses there, not wanting to go any deeper. "Push." I command again.

  My legs wrap around and push him inward from behind. My walls take an aggressive hold of his cock as it slips into my tight wetness, compressing around every inch of him. My smooth calves ram against his ass, forcing him in deeper, and deeper...

  Then Mr. Johnson knocks against my cervix when he is all the way inside me. My hips jolt and my legs squeeze tighter around him, thrusting him deeper--as far as he can go.

  His balls tap against my asshole. I squirm in place when I feel his precum oozing down and tickling the line of my ass crack. We moan and our bodies writhe together in unison.

  "Fuck Krista, you weren't kidding!" I give his cock a nice, firm squeeze with my walls, giggling at the tense expression on his face.

  My hips buc
k wildly against him, working the whole of his cock like a true expert. He begins a slow, rhythmic hump, enjoying the sensation of his dick slipping inside me and filling me up completely.

  I press my palms against his ripped pecs as my body rocks in sync with his thrusting. Mr. Johnson grabs hold of my tits, saying,

  "I--I don't know if I can hold--agh!" He squirms at the hips; I can feel his cock twitching against my cervix. Mr. Johnson is trying desperately to stop himself from cumming inside me.

  A devilish smile spreads across my face. I throw my pelvis against him and clench my walls tight as I can. I reach around and clutch his ass to hold him inside me while I work to coax the cum from his dick, compressing every inch of his cock in my tightness.

  He must be using every ounce of concentration to keep himself from squirting up in me.

  "Krista--Fuck, Krista! I'm gonna--I'm cumming!" Mr. Johnson wails in ecstasy--he has gone over the edge. He squeezes hard on my tits while his hips spasm against me. My whole body reels to each impaling thrust of his cock.

  I can feel it twitching, shooting his massive load up into the very depths of me. My spine arches on the floor when his thick spunk hits the back of my uterus.

  Thick beads of sweat fall from his forehead onto my belly as his warm load fills my insides. Mr. Johnson groans long and loud; his body writhes and convulse on top of me.

  "Ungh!" I moan, feeling the deluge of cum flooding my insides and filling me whole. A bit of it trickles out from me and rolls off his ball sac. Mr. Johnson collapses; his torso slips and slides on the sweat of my stomach.

  I contract and release the tense muscles of my core, milking every lost drop of spunk from his dick.

  He actually did it. Mr. Johnson just came inside me! Our legs intertwine and I plant kisses along his neck. As he lies there on top of me gasping for breath, still twitching, I wonder about how his wife is going to take the news.

  I can't wait to see the look on Mrs. Johnson's face when I tell that nagging bitch how her husband impregnated me.

  Turns out, I'm a lot tighter than her after all.

  Unprotected

  I smile wide just before my head collides with the airbag. Glowing headlights shatter into a million shards against crunching metal.

  I didn’t hit Mr. Jameson’s car on purpose, but it wasn’t a complete accident, either.

  More like I just let the wheel go and let fate take me where it wanted—like right into my neighbor’s brand new Bentley.

  Innocent enough.

  Black windows light up in the suburban cul-de-sac around me. A blaring car alarm rings in my ears as people peer through their windows to see what all the commotion is about. I keep my face buried in the softness of the deployed cushion, waiting for Mr. Jameson himself to come out and see what I’ve done to his car.

  Besides, is it my fault it was parked on the street?

  After all, sometimes a girl has got to work to get a little attention. And Mr. Jameson’s attention is something worth getting my hands a little dirty for.

  In fact, I’ve been trying for weeks now to get him to fuck me. Just like every other slut on this block, apparently.

  Like just last week I saw Mrs. Andrews knocking on his front door in a low cut dress and come-fuck-me pumps with a tray full of fresh brownies. And that bitch is fucking married.

  Well she’s going to have to try a lot harder than that if she wants Mr. Jameson to go down on her. He’s a man of principal. A man of class. Seducing a real man like that requires much more drastic measures.

  Like crashing into his car, for instance.

  I can’t really blame them though, seeing how he’s the hottest, richest man in the neighborhood. He’s probably somewhere in his mid-forties, but I swear that guy could pass for thirty.

  I love watching him from my bedroom window when he comes home from the gym—the guy never misses a day. Seeing his tight pecs taut against his sweaty tank makes my panties all wet.

  Sometimes I like to finer myself, two fingers spreading my labia, feeling the wetness there while I fantasize about all the naughty things I want Mr. Jameson to do to me.

  Usually I end up on the bed with my legs spread eagle in the air, grinding against a dildo deep inside my pussy, moaning softly so Mom doesn’t hear.

  I think about him entering me, embracing me between his broad shoulders, pile driving himself into my tight slit as I plead for him to cum inside. I imagine bucking my hips against the sweat of his six-pack, coaxing his massive cock to fill me with his hot load.

  The truth is I’m still a virgin. But that doesn’t mean I never daydream about being a dirty little slut.

  I’m nineteen and still haven’t felt a real cock inside me. Plenty of guys have tried to get in my pants, but really I’m just a girl with expensive taste, and I never settle.

  I’m holing out until I strike gold, baby.

  Call me a gold digger—call me whatever you want. I know what I’m after and nothing gets in my way.

  So it’s only natural that I should let my wheels drift into Mr. Jameson’s car. Easiest way to get into someone’s life—just make fireworks.

  “Brenna!” Mr. Jameson opens the driver side door to see me slumped facedown against the airbag. “Are you okay?” He reaches across my chest, brushing my tits with the bulk of his arm to unbuckle the seatbelt.

  I lift my head up and shake like I’m just coming to. But really I’m just thrilled he remembers my name.

  “What—what happened?” I blink slowly, pretending to become aware of my surroundings. I feel the warmth of his hand on my bare shoulder, the strap of my pink tank hanging loose. His hand against my tan skin sends a shiver up my spine that makes me sit up straight in the leather seat.

  “C’mon, let’s get you out of there.” He brings my arm over his neck and cradles me behind the knees. Suddenly he’s holding me and I’m staring into those perfect amber eyes, the sun peeking through a storm cloud casting a rim of light around his chiseled features. Am I in heaven?

  “Mr.—Mr. Jameson?” My dark eyelids flutter and my cheeks flush.

  “You were in an accident,” he says. No shit. I pretend to look surprised.

  “Oh my god! Your car! I’m so—“

  “It’s okay. The important thing is that you’re okay.”

  I try my best to look sincere, but with him holding me like this, all I can think about is the slick heat between my legs. My toes curl and fidget in the air to the carnal thoughts swimming in my head.

  “I guess this isn’t the best time to tell you…” I say.

  “No, it’s okay.” The way he smiles at me makes me squirm against his hard chest. The toned muscles of his thick biceps flex to hold me in place. Him holding me like this, staring into eyes with such deep concern—it’s exactly how I imagined this would happen.

  If things continue going like I planned, I’ll be riding on his dick in no time. Preferably without a condom.

  “I’m unprotected…”

  “You mean uninsured?” He looks rather stoic, considering. His tie is loose around his neck, the top buttons of his dress shirt undone. The muscles of his toned pectorals twitch beneath the white fabric, cradling me like a helpless damsel. “Don’t worry about it.”

  I flinch to a drop of rain landing on my soft, pale cheek. Thunder roars from a distance.

  “Let’s get you inside before you get wet.”

  Too late.

  ******

  The rain is already pounding by the time we get inside Mr. Jameson’s house. My damp hair clings to his arms as he carries me carries me to a plush brown couch in a giant living room.

  Mr. Jameson sets me down with the gentle ease of handling a newborn, my limp body spilling onto the soft cushions like I’ve just been saved from a burning building.

  “Does anything hurt?”

  “Not really,” I say, placing a palm against my forehead and massaging there, “My head’s just rattled is all.”

  “Well, let me get you something to dry off
with.”

  I can’t believe I’m inside Mr. Jameson’s house. I’d pinch myself, if not for the fear that I might actually wake up.

  A thin ray of light pours through the sunroof above me, illuminating the polished antiques set along wooden shelves. A tall grandfather clock ticks away, filling the silence as Mr. Jameson rummages in a closet down the hall.

  “Here you go,” he says when he returns.

  “You’re so sweet.” I flash a bright smile and catch him blushing slightly, breaking eye contact to stare down at his bare feet. “I must look like such a hot mess.”

  I sit up and ruffle the towel over my hair. “It’s so humiliating that this happened.” I bury my face in my hands and shake my head. “I couldn’t even drive twenty feet from my driveway without hitting something.” I toss my hair back and tuck a dark strand behind my hair. “I’m such a stupid klutz sometimes.”