by Lucia Jordan
The sight of Brooke trying desperately to soothe her swollen pussy made him grunt, and he cursed the clothes that still confined his cock. He wanted to free it swiftly and ram it up her tight, closed-up pussy. Gritting his teeth, he slipped one finger forcefully up her soaking wet pussy. “God, you’re tight, Brooke!”
“Oh God!” Brooke cried out, shaking as the first ripples of her orgasm flowed through her limbs. She pushed her hips back, taking his finger deeper, and his knuckles pressed against her.
Instantly, Chris pulled his finger out, and his breath was harsh. “Stay here!” He jerked down his pants and stood up to lose his shirt. Brooke lay on his bed face down, her knees on the carpet, her toes curled up in hungry desperation.
Just when she thought she would surely die of wanting, something smooth and rubbery – hard – slid up and down her slit.
“Oh please! Oh please. Take me! Take me I’m dying!” She sobbed. Her pussy curled up in ravenous craving to swallow his cock into its depths.
Chris wanted to hear her beautiful, proud voice call him Sir. He was driven by a madness that had never consumed him before this day, before this strong, willful woman. “Call me Sir!” he hissed forcefully and Brooke swallowed.
Even in her starved, lusty, and depraved state, and on the brink of orgasm, the word got lodged in her throat and wouldn’t spill past her lips. She clenched her eyes shut as Chris forcefully teased her pussy with his cock, tracing circles over her quivering vagina, never penetrating a millimeter.
Just the knowledge of what she had so close, what she could have, made her want to cry out in helplessness. Chris knew he was going to win. He knew it just as surely as he knew he was going to let her cum, on his own terms.
“Let me hear it, baby. What do you want?” he whispered and Brooke bit her lip.
Chris clasped the base of his cock and guided it upward, to the tight, puckered-up asshole begging to be touched. Brooke lurched up and her limbs tensed, making Chris chuckle breathlessly. “I have all night, Brooke.” He slid the wet cock back down, rubbing her clit forcefully with the head.
Her will, her pride, flowed out of her and she arched her back. “Please, take me...Sir!” she added reverently and her submission made Chris’s cock almost burst right there.
He rammed his cock up her body, deep, clenching his teeth as her wetness clasped hungrily at his shaft. “Oh yeah!” he moaned, and Brooke jerked beneath him. Her orgasm erupted with a force that tensed her limbs, and made her grind her hips in circles. She pushed her open, gasping mouth into the mattress. Her cum poured out of her, wetting his balls.
Chris’s pelvis was ramming onto her hips, hitting the sore, throbbing place where he had spanked her. He was going to cum, too soon, but he couldn’t control it. He didn’t even want to try. The temptress on his bed was sucking his shaft with her pussy, and draining him of everything he had.
His cock swelled in her depths and he jerked it out, sliding the wet, soaked prick over her crack. His semen spurted heavily and Chris grunted into her ear.
Brooke lay beneath him, impaled to his shaft. Her sense finally returned, and she surfaced from oblivion. Chris’s leg was against hers, his pubic hair prickling her ass. Chris’s hands were right next to hers on the bed. Unthinkingly, she reached for his hand and then stilled as he yanked it away.
“Stay there,” he said and she noticed a change in his tone. He seemed almost angry.
Her face lifted off the mattress and her lips parted in surprise. Smooth, soft silk slid onto her wrists. Before she knew it, her wrists were bound together with a maroon scarf…and tightened.
Bracing her weight on her elbows, Brooke jerked herself off the bed and stood up with her bound wrists in front of her. Chris had the first glimpse of her round, perfect tits – each peaked with a pink nipple like a supple cherry. He didn’t notice the anger and fury in Brooke’s eyes.
“Untie me! Untie me now!” she screeched.
*
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