She Wants It Rough

by Meegan Melons

  “Nah, you’re not stupid.” He puts a gentle hand on the side of my arm.

  “But I’m a klutz.” I start giggling and Mr. Jameson smiles with his eyes, then we burst into laughter.

  “Lucky for me, you were there to make sure I was okay.” He rubs the back of his neck when I beam at him, patting my cleavage with the towel. There’s a long, awkward pause. Is Mr. Jameson getting flustered?

  “Yeah, well, I heard a loud crash and—“

  “I’ve made so much trouble for you,” I say, standing up. He looks surprised that I’m able to stand at all. “Is there… anything I can do to compensate?”

  “Nope—well, I have good insurance, so…”

  “That’s not what I mean.” My manicured toes sink into the soft beige carpet as I advance toward Mr. Jameson with a smooth confidence. “Look, you’re all wet!” I bring the towel to his chest and press it between the open buttons of his dress shirt.

  Mr. Jameson catches my wrist, “It’s okay, you really don’t have to.“

  “Relax,” I say, patting across his broad collarbone. My tongue sleeks across my upper lip, maintaining eye contact as I peel back one side of his shirt. “Let me dry you off, silly!”

  Mr. Jameson relinquishes his grip with some hesitation. My eyelids droop as I continue working my way across his bare chest. His massive pecs rise and fall with slow, heavy breaths. An intense shiver runs the length of my spine, emanating from my slickening pussy.

  I start working at the buttons of his shirt, holding his gaze. “Can I tell you something?” I say, leaning in close, planting an open palm against a bulging pectoral. Soft crimson lips brush his ear as I whisper, “Did you know I’m still a virgin?”

  His jaw clenches and the tendons of his neck grow tense at my words. My hand caresses beneath his shirt, leading into soft semi-circles that play at the hardness of a nipple.

  “Can you believe that?” My hand travels the length of his torso, rolling over wet mounds of bulk and muscle. Rounded manicured nails dance across the tough ripples of his abdomen. “Nineteen years old and I’ve still never been…”

  “Are you feeling all right?” He grabs me by the shoulders, staring deep into my eyes to examine my state. “You could have a concussion or something.“

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Jameson,” my hand dives beneath the waist of his jeans and I pull him against me, “I know exactly what I’m doing.” His chest bounces against my supple tits, my fingers weave through a tuft of trimmed pubic hair.

  My tongue darts to the corner of my mouth and I grin, “Do you want to know what it’s like to cum inside a tight little virgin pussy?”

  His grip on my shoulders tightens and he shakes me, saying “Brenna! You know we can’t do that!”

  I sink my hand farther down his pants, wrapping delicate fingers around his engorged dick, feeling its quick pulse and growing stiffness. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Mr. Jameson. I’m way more mature than you think.”

  I squeeze the shaft with gentle tugs, slicking across his pursed lips with the wet of my tongue.

  “D—don’t!” His eyes flutter while I stroke the length of his dick. His massive girth swells in my hand with every fast heartbeat against my breasts.

  “Your cock tells me otherwise.” I can’t help but smirk as I tease the head. Mr. Jameson squirms in place, and a quiet moan escapes his lips.

  The moist towel falls to the carpet as I reach behind and drape my arm over his wide shoulders. His eyes shoot wide when our lips connect, my tongue pushing past his teeth. My thumb rubs tiny semi-circles at the top of his shaft while my tongue licks and prods inside his mouth. A bit of precum seeps from the tip and runs between my knuckles.

  I tug playfully on his quivering lip as our mouths peel apart. Mr. Jameson is still studying me like he’s looking for signs of brain damage.

  “I don't think—“

  “Shhh. Just relax.” Both hands move to the sides of his waist as I squat to tug down hard on his pants and briefs. “I owe you this…”

  I hold his gaze until his pants are bunched at his ankles. His massive cock, fully erect, is inches away from my face. My lips crease into a sinister smile.

  I fling my hair back, giggling as an index finger sweeps across the shaft to catch a bit of dribbling precum.

  “Mmmm…” I moan long and deep, wrapping the fingertip with puckered lips, sucking off the sweet taste of him. My eyelids droop and my tongue dances against the roof of my mouth. My hips sway to the sogginess dripping between my thighs.

  My hands glide over the smoothness of his ass, rolling over every toned muscle down to his calves. His wide frame casts a dense shadow over me as my knees burrow into the soft carpet, inching close enough for my nose to graze his throbbing dick. His intoxicating scent permeates my senses.

  Crimson lips hover over the head and slowly peel apart. His dick is enveloped in the warm air pouring from my moist cavern. A thick string of saliva dribbles from my bottom lip and wets his dark pubes.

  I stare up at him through gleaming eyes, tongue emerging just slightly, licking and teasing the sensitive head. Mr. Jameson’s eyes roll back and his lungs release a drawn out sigh.

  As the tip of my tongue dances about the shaft, one hand cups his balls to tickle his scrotum. His legs jitter when he feels the wet kiss of my lips on his ball sac, my teeth nibbling, tugging gently on the skin.

  His neck goes limp and he stares at me through apprehensive eyes, giving a subtle shake as if to tell me not to go through with this.

  Little does he know I already made up my mind long before he brought me inside.

  “Ungh!” Mr. Jameson’s moans echo through the room, up into the high ceiling. The flat of my tongue slicks along the shaft, coating the length of his dick in a wet, hot sheen of spit. I hold at the base of the shaft with thumb and forefinger, making tiny strokes as he reels to the slippery pleasure of my tongue. It hooks around the stiff girth, writhing and teasing while my fingertips grope at his balls.

  I make my way up to the tip and my mouth gapes open. He squints hard, groaning and clenching his jaw as his cock slips into the dense heat.

  “Agh!” He moans deep when my soft lips close around his member. My tongue swirls and licks as the tight suction closes around the rock hard thickness.

  His giant balls roll in the palm of my petite hand as I lower myself, guiding him down the moist chute of my throat. My head bobs and swivels on his dick, forcing it down deep, as far I can manage.

  I’d practiced the difficult feat of deepthroating with a dildo, but I never imagined Mr. Jameson would be so big. The size of him makes me retch when he pushes past my tongue and collides with the back of my throat.

  A spray of warm saliva spurts from my lips and trickles down to the base. I cough and gag and try to keep it all down. But I’m still not even close.

  Mr. Jameson grunts and his pelvis thrusts reflexively. He grabs hold of a clump of hair and clenches it inside a fist. His cock slips deeper than I even thought possible. Dark mascara rolls down my pale cheeks while his cock twitches down my esophagus.

  I choke and slurp, my cheeks concave with passionate sucking. I am determined to fit him all the way down.

  I reach around and lace fingertips between his ass crack. My nails dig deep into both cheeks as I fight through the intense urge to breathe. My throat clenches tight around his entire length; my gag reflex is trying to force him out.

  My tongue laps the base of his shaft with determined enthusiasm while I drool and slobber on every inch.

  “Fff—uck! Brenna, you’re so fucking deep!” He yanks hard on my hair and sends a shot of pain to my scalp. His dick throbs and swells in the very depths of my throat. Is he about to cum already?

  The vision in my bloodshot eyes blurs; my head bounces up and down in earnest as the pressure in his balls mounts, ready to erupt its massive load down my throat.

  “I-m—I’m gonna fucking cum!” Mr. James lurches and groans. My head bounces with a rhythmic determina
tion to suck him off. My jaw aches, but I don’t want to stop.

  “Mmm-mmm…” My throat hums with lustful moaning, vibrating his dick while wet crimson lips bubble and pop with gargled suction. Thick beads of drool pour from my mouth with every deepthroat of his girth into my esophagus. Dark tangles of hair cling to the sweat of my brow while others hang and sway with every hard suck and gulp.

  “Fuck! Fuck!” His giant boulder of a chest heaves and his head tilts back. His rough knuckles dig deep into my skull, shoving me down until my nose scrunches against his solid abdomen. My eyes go wide. His swollen cock twitches in my throat, intense veins pulsing against the slick walls.

  Mr. Jameson grits his teeth and groans, ejaculating his warm load down my tract. The stuff coats the whole interior of my throat, seeping down my stomach like thick molasses.

  Again and again, his cock pumps a deluge of spunk into my gaping mouth. I gag and spit up a flood of cum and watch the bubbly strings trickle down to his balls.

  His eyes glint with the heart flutters of his orgasm, the reflexive spasms of his cock jerking to every swirl and suck. “Holy shit!” At last, he’s breathing again.

  “Mmm…” I moan, coming off his cock in one slobbery pop. I hold his gaze as I roll the hot spunk around with my tongue, opening wide for him to see. The white viscous stuff clings to the inside of my cheeks and coats every taste bud with the sweetness of his seed. It’s almost surreal, slopping Mr. Jameson’s cum around, tasting him just like I imagined.

  Then I flash a wide grin, swallowing the hot load in one eager gulp. My eyes flutter as I moan, licking up the bits from my lips like a creamy dessert.

  “All gone!” I say, giggling and falling back on the floor. A beam of light from the sunroof illuminates my puffed cheeks marked by streaks of mascara.

  ******

  “Shit! Someone’s at the door!” The door bangs with incessant pounding. Mr. Jameson nearly trips over himself trying to get his pants up.

  “Relax, baby. I’ll get it,” I say, scrambling to get off the floor and fix my tits. I saunter over to the door and stand up on my tiptoes to peek through the arch of glass near the top of the frame. What the fuck?

  “Good evening, miss.” The policeman says when I crack the door. Heavy rain runs off the brim of his hat and down a clear, oversized raincoat. The wreckage from the crash is visible behind him. My car is being carted away by a tow truck.

  “We received a call from a neighbor in the area about a collision. Says they saw a girl carried off into this house.” I nod at his words with a blank stare. The hood of my once pristine sedan steams as the truck lifts it by the front. “Are you… all right, Miss?”

  “Oh, I’m fine!” I swipe the air with a limp wrist. “We’re talking over insurance stuff at the moment.”

  Then my expression turns to shock when I feel a bit of cum dribbling off my chin. I wipe it away with the back of a hand and try my best not to look anxious. “Y’know, just exchanging information.” I twirl an index finger through my soaked hair and smile at one corner of my mouth.

  “Are you… sure you’re okay?” The last thing I need right now is a cop asking too many questions.

  “Absolutely! Uh-huh!” I’ll be a lot better when you get the fuck out of here, that’s for sure.

  “Someone told me they heard an engine revving just before the collision.” He studies me with a sort of glare, like he knows I’m not telling the whole truth. “Not every day you see that kind of damage in a low velocity suburban zone.” His eyes squint into tiny, accusatory slits. “Care to tell me exactly how this happened?”

  “Well, umm… it was like this—“

  “Can I help you officer?” Mr. Jameson says, his arm arching above me to lean against the door.

  “Yes, I’m—“

  “Because we’re perfectly fine here.”

  “That’s great, it’s just—“

  “But I appreciate your concern. The young woman and I can handle this, thank you.” The officer looks annoyed at being interrupted. Mr. Jameson’s sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, the sweat sheen of his forearms glinting like polished marble.

  He exudes a kind of confidence that has the cop stumbling over his words. It’s obvious that he wants to pin me on something, but Mr. Jameson won’t have any of it.

  My savior.

  “Okay then…. have a good night.” The cop tips his hat and more water spills off the front.

  “Phew. He was making me nervous,” I say, exhaling a sigh of relief.

  “Yeah, he’s a jerk.” Mr. Jameson closes the door, pushing with two fingers on the intricate woodcarving.

  I sidestep to get behind Mr. Jameson. “So, where were we?” I make a sort of snicker, the way a kid enjoys misbehaving. My fingers dance between his shoulder blades as I lean in, whispering, “Which one of my holes do you want to explore next?”

  “It’s funny, though” he says, the tone of his voice sounding way too serious. His hand moves with purpose, locking each of the three deadbolts into place. “I’m also curious how you managed to total my brand new car in a quiet residential area like this one.” His words are punctuated by the sound of metal clicking into place. “I mean shit, you’d have to be going at least forty-five.” Is he interrogating me? Did he figure out it wasn’t an accident?

  “I know, I’m so terrible!” There is a pause, and I fill it with a nervous giggle. My palms slip down his back. I bite down on my bottom lip to stop it from trembling, to hide the fact that he’s scaring me a little.

  “Can I ask you a question, Brenna?” He turns from the door, towering over me, holding me with a piercing stare. “Don’t worry, I’m not a cop.”

  “Mm-hmm?” I nod slowly, straining my eyes so they don’t look away, doing my best maintain a facade of innocence.

  “Was it part of your plan to get fucked in the ass?”

  The muscles of my core jump at his words, my asshole clenching into a tight pucker. “We can do that—if you want…” I stare at the floor, shuffling my feet. I don’t know where to look.

  “I’ll ask you again,” Mr. Jameson says, removing his shirt and getting at the button of his jeans. “Was it part of your plan to get fucked in the ass?”

  “Mr., Jameson? I don't know what you mean.”

  “Get on the couch.”

  “Okay, but—“

  “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble today, Brenna” I take small backward steps, toward the couch, avoiding eye contact. “It’s time you take responsibility and accept your punishment.”

  I’m already lying flat on the couch by the time Mr. Jameson has his pants off. He’s stroking his stiff dick, looking down at me with a look of disgust.

  “Did I say you could lie down?”

  “No, I just—“

  “I don’t recall telling you to speak, either.” Mr. Jameson crosses his arms, looking me over with disdain. “Get up, and bend over.”

  My first inclination is to ask exactly what he means, but I purse my lips and stand up instead. My feet drag along the carpet in slow, timid steps. I position myself over the couch’s arm, my pink manicured nails contrasting the sleek beige leather. “Like—like this?”

  I gasp, covering my lips, immediately regretting speaking out of turn. His harsh, glowering eyes fall on my bent over ass.

  “Lift up your skirt.”

  My hands move almost on their own, their fingers sliding up my tense, slender thighs, feeling the tiny goose bumps there. They pause upon reaching the end of the skirt’s black ruffles, curling beneath the hem and lifting to reveal the taut, pale skin of my ass cheeks. My teeth sink into the skin below my lips, eyes squinting shut in anticipation of what was coming next.

  I can’t suppress the harsh screech that forces its way out of me when Mr. Jameson’s hand lands square against my ass. A streak of tears trickles from my closed eyelids and rolls over flush cheeks.

  “You’ve been a naughty, naughty girl, Brenna.” A red outline is left at the spot where his palm peels away.
“A disobedient little slut.”

  My whole body jolts and I yelp at the force of the next blow against my bare bottom. The pain surges through my spine, distant pleasure swimming out to my breasts, shocking my hard nipples. My hips writhe to the subtle current, panties soaking wet with eager desire.

  “I want you say it.” His hands brush the contours of my raw cheeks. One finger flicks at my protruding tailbone, rolling over the sharp vertebrae like a dotted line across my arching back.