His Princess

by Sanya Sitter

  Caitlin turns to look at me with a subtle glare and shake of the head like I should be ashamed. It’s not the worst lie I’ve ever told—although this one did make me feel especially naughty.

  “Oh… I see.” Mr. Thompson perks up and reaches for his back pocket. “Well, I’d be happy to donate. How much do you need?”

  “Previous donors have typically gifted around forty dollars,” I say. Caitlin rolls her eyes and lets out a barely audible huff.

  “That sounds pretty stingy. You should be getting a lot more out of this neighborhood.” My eyes light up when his hand extends four crisp hundred-dollar bills. “I’d offer more, but I’m afraid this is all I have on me.” His thick bicep stretches the fabric of his tight T-shirt, the tan skin taut every ropey muscle. My mouth starts to water at the sight of so much money, not unlike the way my panties are beginning to soak. Is this guy for real?

  But that bitch Caitlin steps in front before I can take the money.

  “That’s much too generous of you sir. We can’t possibly accept such a large amount.” She tries to stomp on my toes with her heel but I move just in time. Then I shove Caitlin to the side with both hands.

  “What my associate here is trying to tell you is that we cannot accept such a…” I glance at his fist full of money, then down to the bulge of his jeans, “sizeable donation unless you agree to receive our special token of appreciation in return.”

  “Oh? And what’s that?” His smooth, genuine smile has me quaking at the knees. My thoughts are bombarded with dirty images of him holding my legs in the air, of me sucking him off while he looks down at me with that same smile right before I let him cum in my mouth.

  I want to feel this man inside me.

  “It might be easier if I just showed you. Mind if we come inside?”

  “Well sure, if you’d like.”

  “No!” Caitlin thrusts her arm to block my path when I try to get around her. “I mean… we really don’t mean to intrude.” She turns around to face me so that Mr. Thompson can’t see her mouthing the words “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  “Nonsense! I’m always glad to have company.”

  “Great,” I say, glaring at the bitch who is making this into a much bigger deal than it is. “C’mon, Caitlin.”

  “We don’t have much time, remember?” Caitlin says, glaring at me. She’s just trying to find a way to get herself out of this. She’s lucky to have me as a business partner, or else she’d fail miserably at this gig.

  “Oh, right. You have that… thing. You go on without me.” I turn to Mr. Thompson and wink. “It would be rude to this gentleman if we left without giving him what he deserves.”

  Caitlin thanks Mr. Thompson and marches off somewhere. Although, I don’t know where the fuck she thinks she’s going without a car. I’m the one who drove her here.

  What a stubborn bitch.

  “Well then, shall we go inside?”

  ******

  “What a gorgeous place you have,” I say, surveying the living room. Its high ceiling and cozy furniture give it a spacious, homey feel.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” His cute smile sent a shiver up my spine, disarming me. I had to look away just to answer.

  “You’re sweet to offer. But no thanks.”

  “So, would you like to tell me a little more about the charity you represent?”

  “Well it’s—um, it’s about breast cancer prevention, and—“ I’m struggling to come up with something on the fly. I feel myself getting flustered with him standing so close. I’m usually good at bullshitting, but all I can think about is how bad I want this man’s cock. “And we like to offer a… special kind of gratitude for our most generous donors.” I glance down at his crotch again. I can’t help it. “To make sure they feel appreciated.”

  I can see the ripples of his abdomen clearly defined beneath his shirt. My mind goes blank when I try to search for the next words. The moist heat between my legs has me hopelessly distracted. My body begins to move almost on its own.

  I get in close enough to brush slender fingers across a bulging pectoral. His massive chest expands with every deep inhale, stretching the material thin against his torso. Crimson nails contrast the black of his shirt, a thin veil over a Greek sculpture of male perfection.

  My tongue slicks across my upper lip as I look up at him through doe eyes. The tips of my fingers trace the contours of his chest, dancing softly at his abdomen. “Are you ready to find out what it is?”

  “What is this?” He watches me with a kind of detachment. He places his fingers on the top of my shoulders, like he’s only touching me because he has to. One eyebrow raised, he asks, “What are you doing?”

  “Rewarding your generosity,” I say, cocking my head and flashing a cute smile. My arms cross over my chest and fingers curl under my shirt. My long, dark curls fall past my shoulders as I pull it off over my head. A sweep of hair brushes the revealed skin of my breasts. A tiny bit of nipple peeks out from my push up bra.

  “I don’t think…” Mr. Jameson tries to maintain eyes contact, but I can tell his eyes are straining to resist the temptation to look down at my tits. “I’m not sure this is appropriate.”

  My lips curl to form a devilish smile as I reach around to unclasp my bra.

  And there they are. My perfect, gorgeously round tits in full view as my bra falls to the carpet floor. My perky nipples start to harden, exposed to the chilly air.

  “Jesus Christ!” He turns and shields his face with his hands. “Put your top back on!”

  “It’s okay.” I step in closer, nibbling at my lower lip. “You can look if you want to.”

  “I don’t want to! You’re just a girl!”

  “Just a girl? I’m nineteen years old!” My index finger traces the line of his clenched jaw, his head locked at a stubborn angle, the rough stubble tickling the edge of my skin. The tendons of his neck flare, stretched like tight bowstrings, resisting when I try to tug his chin toward me. “C’mon… just a little peek?”

  Then I feel him relax a little, his head pivoting apprehensively. He’s facing me now, but his eyes are still fighting the urge to look down. The internal struggle is visible in his bright amber eyes and tense expression. My finger runs the length of his hard sternum as I bat my eyelashes, saying, “I’ll let you suck on them, if you want…”

  His eyes shoot wide, their dark pupils dilating at my words. The impulse is too much for him. He glances down and my lips form a victorious smirk.

  My supple breasts heave as I inhale deep. His gaze is locked on the center of my chest, watching the rise and fall of my busty tits, their perky nipples stiff like peaks, begging to be sucked.

  “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I decide to make a bold move and go in for the kill.

  I run delicate fingers through the back of his short blond hair and apply a slight pressure to the back, guiding his head downward. He resists at first, but then his head moves ever so slowly, down until his nose connects with my sternum.

  With his face buried in my chest, I squeeze my soft breasts against his flush cheeks. My back arches and my neck tilts back while I massage his face between my boobs.

  “Mmmm,” I moan softly. “Go on, give them a little suck.” He pulls a couple inches away and stares up at me with contemplative eyes. I give him a subtle nod of encouragement and bring one nipple to his lips. His eyelids droop and the lips form a wet seal around the areola.

  “Ungh!” I moan out, long and deep, reeling to the sensation of Mr. Thompson’s tongue swirling around my nipple. My fingers weave through his silk hair, holding him against me while he sucks passionately, flicking my hard nub and sending warm tingles up my spine.

  When he moves to the other breast, my hands work deftly at the buckle of his jeans. I’ve already got my hand down the front of his briefs before he has a chance to notice what I’m doing. But he remains oblivious, losing himself in the sweetness of my tits.

  Then he pauses when
he feels my palm wrapping around his thick shaft, the hot pulse of his dick beating in my hand. A bit of precum trickles between my fingers. Mr. Thompson must really be enjoying himself.

  His mouth pops off and he gulps a breath of air before telling me, “We can’t do that!”

  My tongue darts to the corner of my upper lip as I stroke his stiffening dick, feeling it swell in my hand. “Too late,” I say, giggling.

  I squat to tug down on his pants and underwear, marveling at the size of his cock when it springs forth, fully erect. I lick across my lips, practically salivating at the sight of it. Without hesitation I dive onto his cock, groping his balls while thrusting him deep into the back of my throat.

  “Fuck!” He groans, grabbing the top of my skull. He makes a half-hearted attempt at stopping me, but quickly resigns himself to the pleasure of my tongue.

  My head bobs and swivels, sliding up and down his stiffness, plunging him deep into my esophagus.

  His neck tilts back and he groans, the suction of my tight lips stroking his length while my tongue laps around the girth. I retch when my nose connects with his rock hard abdomen, slurping up the spit flowing from my mouth down to his balls.

  Light fingertips play at his scrotum while my eyes run with dark mascara. Mr. Thompson holds back the hair that had fallen in my face, moaning to every wet gargle and suck.

  “Mm-mm,” I grunt, forcing him as far as I can go, into the very depths of my throat. My hands grip the sides of his tense thighs, using them as leverage to deepthroat his enormous size.

  My supple tits knock together, swaying elegantly in the air as my gag reflex squeezes tight around his hardness. My head bounces up and down with determined grace.

  “Agh!” The hand on my skull grips tight like a vise. The head of his dick twitches deep inside my esophagus. But I don’t want him to cum—not yet.

  My lips peel off the shaft, clinging to the thick veins, marking his dick with a residue of crimson lipstick. I force my head up, fighting against the resistance of him trying to keep me down. He doesn’t want me to stop—can’t let me. He’s desperate to cum down my naughty little throat.

  “Nuh-uh-uh…” I shake my head when I finally come all the way off. “That’s not how this works.” His dick throbs on the edge of climax, dribbling clear fluid to the floor. My lips curl in a Cheshire grin. “You’ll get to cum when I tell you.”

  Mr. Thompson’s face turns to a grimace. His cock flinches when I tease the head, its balls pulsing like a cannon waiting to be fired. It must be killing him to be so close to orgasm.

  I stand up and squirm out of my skinny jeans to reveal the pink lace panties underneath. Sucking on Mr. Thompson’s cock has made them thoroughly soaked.

  My fingers trace a smooth line across my stomach, over the glint of my navel piercing, slipping beneath my panties and feeling the wetness there.

  “I’m so wet for you, baby,” My tongue circles the edge of my lips. “I want to feel you inside me.” I spread my labia with two fingers, playing with the string of fluids that stretches between them.

  “I don’t think we should—“

  My deep moans interrupt him, echoing up to the high ceiling as I finger my clit. My heart starts to race, beating hard against my chest as my body writhes.

  He’s probably right, though. I’ve been off the pill for months. There’s a good chance of getting pregnant if I let him cum in me. Still, the thought of getting filled with his seed is overriding my judgment.

  Getting knocked up would be so deliciously naughty…

  “Don’t worry,” I say, cupping the side of his chin, “I want you to.” A streak of bubbly spit dribbles off his shaft. The massive cock swells with every pulse in his chest. He gazes down at me with distant reservation, eyes uncertain.

  I bet he never dreamed of getting such an offer when he opened the door.

  Then, without skipping a beat, Mr. Thompson can’t get his shirt off fast enough.

  Each muscle of his bare torso seems to glisten under a sheen of sweat, showcasing his carved marble features. The rolling mounds of bulk flex and flinch beneath his bronze, taut skin. The sight of his magnificent body is enough to make me whimper, my legs shuddering to the mounting heat between them.

  “Do you want to know what it’s like to cum inside this tight little pussy?” I turn away from him and bend over. I bite down on my bottom lip and slip two fingers between my wet folds.

  My slick walls quiver with anticipation, drizzling warm fluids, ready to be fucked.

  I yelp when he pulls my panties down from behind. His dick glides between my ass cheeks, thoroughly lubricated by his precum and my own juices.

  He slicks between my labia, spreading the lips apart and teasing my clit the head. My ass sways in the air to the electric stimulation playing up my spine.

  I reach between my spread legs to grab hold of his girth, guiding the tip to my sopping entrance. My back arches; a bead of sweat trickles down the small of my back. My pussy quivers, ready to accept him.

  But he clutches my ass cheeks, pushing me away and flipping me around. His thick arms entwine themselves around my thighs, lifting me up and spreading them in the air. His face lights up in a lustful vigor. He’s going to have me the way he wants.

  I lock my heels around his waist when he starts to lower me, holding me by the ass. I throw my arms around his neck and my tits compress against the hardness of his chest.

  He wets his hand with a bit of saliva and coats the head with turning strokes. Our bodies slip in a mess of sweat and fluids as he lowers me slowly, holding my gaze. Is he actually going to put it up my—

  My eyes go wide and my stomach clenches in a knot when I feel the tip pressing hard against my puckered asshole. I grit my teeth and sink down on his throbbing dick, squinting as my tight walls give way.

  “Ungh!” I gasp and throw my head back when he enters me. My body clings to him in a tight embrace, arms and legs barely reaching around to interlock around his muscle and bulk.

  Mr. Thompson groans and thrusts himself deeper. My lower half spasms to the increasing pain of his girth stretching my virgin hole. It’s more intense than I’d imagined—and yet, I find myself liking the sting of it.

  The size of him tugs on the interior of my walls, stimulating a new kind of pleasure that sends me into a fit of moans, punctuated by whimpers of pain.

  He works his way deeper with sudden pelvic thrusts and my stomach flinches. I pull myself up and bury his face in the pit of my collarbone, nibbling on his neck to stifle my screams.

  I squeeze around his broad shoulders and hold him against my quaking body while his dick drives in and out of my tiny asshole.

  “Agh!” Mr. Thompson grunts when the muscles of my core begin to spasm reflexively. My insides contract around his dick, stroking the entire length as my ass bounces in the air.

  I can’t hold it in any longer. Gasps turn to screams while I take control, riding on Mr. Thompson like an expert slut, my hips gyrating on his magnificent cock.

  My thighs clamp around his waist in a death grip while I rock my ass against him. His grip moves to my back where his nails dig deep and scratch the pale skin.

  My lower half starts to shudder. My echoing moans fill the room as the orgasm rips through me like a torrent of pleasure and fire.

  I’m still shaking when he brings me over to the couch. He tosses me on to the beige cushions and holds my legs apart at the knees. My tongue sweeps across parted lips, eyes fluttering as his tip parts my labia.

  “Do it! Fuck me!” My body pleads with him to enter me, writhing to my own words. I moan out, loud and long, bucking my hips upward into his abdomen, arching my back and thrusting myself onto his member.

  “Fuck!” He groans as my tightness closes around his dick. “You’re so fucking… ti—“ He tries to say, but another buck of my hips draws the air from his lungs.

  My walls give way to his deep penetration, the magnitude of him nearly splitting me apart. I cry out when he bottoms ou
t at my cervix and it sends a jolt coursing through my insides, a morphing pain that quickly subsides in a sea of pleasure.

  Until now I’d never known what it felt like to be filled so entirely.

  The throbbing pulse of his dick beats against my clenched walls. The slapping sound of skin against skin dominates the room as Mr. Thompson impales me with his glorious cock.

  “Shit! Shit! I’m gonna fucking cum!” The head of his dick twitches in the depths of my pussy. I can sense the mounting pressure in his balls behind the rhythmic pounding.

  “Yes! Cum inside me! Please!” My body twists and spasms, contorting as the second climax tears through me, branching out to every limb. We moan in unison, humping and fucking, lost in mutual ecstasy.