by Ada Scott
“That’s it, there’s my dirty little wife,” he said.
Austin was pounding into me so hard and fast by this stage that my pussy was a cacophony of sensation. It was almost impossible to decipher what my nerves were trying to sing to me, where one thrust stopped and the next started. My body was almost vibrating rather than shaking.
One message that started quietly, but grew louder with every passing second, was that I was going to climax again, and climax hard. Dull pleasure from my clit flowed slowly out until my pussy muscles were fluttering around that huge cock and I was so close, I was going to scream the hotel down, I was…
Austin stopped for a moment and flipped my leg from one side of his body to the other, before grabbing my hips and pulling me up into doggystyle position. It was the tiniest of pauses, but my orgasm retreated from the brink far enough that I cried out in frustration.
“Fuck me! Do it! Fuck me, hard!”
Smack!
My husband’s hand on my ass rang out like a gunshot over my own panting and I yelped in surprise, partly at the unexpected pain but more at the unexpected pleasure. Austin resumed his former pace as if it was a starter’s pistol in a race, and this position allowed him even deeper access to my virginal pussy.
I winced anew as his cock claimed my most intimate depths, untouched flesh that was about half an hour less experienced than my entrance. The tip of his cock brushed up against my cervix a few times, leaving me in no doubt that I physically had nothing more to give.
When this fake marriage was over, I’d have nothing to give my hypothetical real future husband that Austin hadn’t already marked as his own. I bit my lip. How could anybody else ever make me feel like this? How would I ever find somebody that could fuck so hard?
Smack!
My orgasm came rushing back to the forefront and I screamed my affirmatives, trying to give Austin every sign I could to push me over the edge. I wasn’t sure if I was speaking in English, but it seemed to work.
Reaching forward, Austin grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of my head, and used that grip to pull my entire body against his hard thrusts. I could feel the strain on my scalp, and it was almost as if that was the last signal I needed. My first cock-powered orgasm took me.
My muscles flexed as if in a quivery and pleasurable cramp. It curled my toes and, when it hit my abdominals, made me tug against the grip Austin had on my hair even more.
If he had let me, I would have buried my face in the pillow and muffled my orgasm, but he pulled back hard enough that I was looking up at the ceiling. I screamed my ecstatic delirium in that direction instead.
My pussy muscles were clamped on Austin’s ever-pistonning cock and I could feel every bump and vein of his majestic rod as a haze drifted in around the edges of my vision. It should have been illegal to feel this good.
From behind me, I heard Austin’s first grunt of effort, and he suddenly changed rhythm, opting for slower but harder thrusts. I gasped when I felt that first hot splash of cum inside me, and rose up on my knees until I was right against him.
Through the fog of pleasure still clouding my mind, I struggled for rational thought. This was really happening. I wasn’t a virgin anymore, I’d given my innocence to my fake husband and let him cum directly into my unprotected depths.
And so much cum too! If more sperm meant a higher chance of pregnancy… oh my gosh. Hot spurt after hot spurt drenched my quivering teen pussy until, it seemed, without anywhere else to go, I felt a veritable torrent of it running down my inner thighs towards my knees.
I reached behind myself with both hands, thinking I was going to try to push him away. Instead, I found myself reaching even further, grasping at his ass to pull him into me even more.
Under my hands I felt his ass clench, corresponding with a push into my pussy and a jet of cum, over and over again, each clench, thrust and spurt gradually dwindling away until I was leaning back against him, feeling him twitch inside me as I tried to catch my breath.
Austin’s muscular arms were around me, holding me up. Without them I would have collapsed. The silence in the room grew as my breathing slowed, and my ears were ringing. Had I been screaming that loud? Or was this something that happens after sex that I’d never read about?
I moaned quietly when Austin cupped my breast and teased my nipple. I didn’t have the energy to do anything more. His cock, not deflated in the slightest, twitched sporadically inside me, as if still trying to deliver more sperm.
“Let’s fuck again,” he said.
I tried to raise a hand to wipe some sweat off my brow. “Wha…?”
Austin
According to the alarm clock next to the bed, it was just after ten o’clock in the morning. By the time I’d finished fucking Skylar last night, the early-morning light had just started peeking through the curtains.
I couldn’t have had much sleep, but I’d slept like the dead in the time I did. That was the longest non-stop sexathon I’d ever had, even when I’d had more than one girl to spread the load over.
She took it all though, my wife absolutely drained my balls. Her pussy felt like fucking magic, heaven on Earth. I’d never felt anything like it, and I’d never wanted to stop.
Even now, thinking about her tight little pussy, I was getting hard again. That was pretty weird. Usually I just wanted a chick to fuck off in the morning, if not earlier. I’d already taken everything I wanted from them, used them up completely, so why would I go back for more?
Next to me, Skylar was a cum-soaked wreck. Sleeping on her stomach, I could see her legs were parted under the sheet. After last night, I bet she’d be walking bow-legged for a while, and they might have to bury her in a y-shaped coffin.
I propped myself up against the headboard. Skylar mumbled in her sleep, turning her head to face me with her eyes still closed. Even in the dim light, I could see a hint of cum in her hair, and spots of her virginal blood on the sheets.
Her virginity was mine, and I’d taken as much from her as any other woman I’d been with, so why was I still feeling this… attraction to her? I shook my head and swung my feet stealthily on to the floor.
I started getting dressed, looking down at her, but I had to turn around to finish off. When I looked at her, it was like I was looking at the embodiment of sex appeal itself.
She was hard to resist. I left the room without looking back, putting my shoes on in the hallway. By the time I walked out to the street, the fresh air, and the distance from Skylar, started to clear my head.
What I needed was a big breakfast, and to start concentrating on my next fight instead of this circus act. Skylar was a prizewinning fuck, I had to give her that much, but that was all.
I couldn’t let her get in my head, and I sure as fuck couldn’t let myself start believing the lies in her eyes. Hopefully, after last night, she’d realize I was just another guy who wanted to get into her pussy, and she’d save those hero-worship looks for my cock and the cameras.
The last thing on my mind was being a fuckin’ hero. That shit never works out.
At the end of the street was a diner that served breakfast until eleven o’clock, according to the sign in the window. I stepped inside and headed towards the counter.
A group of college chicks, sitting in a booth, stopped talking for a second and then started chattering excitedly in rushed whispers and intermittent giggles. Even out of the corner of my eye, I could see miles of cleavage.
I didn’t look directly at them; they’d come to me soon enough. After a minute or so browsing the menu, a guy behind the counter asked me what I’d like this morning.
“I’ll have the mega-big-time country breakfast. Extra bacon. Orange juice rather than coffee.”
He looked me up and down. “I’ll make that serving on the large side.”
“You do that.”
“Have here or takeout?”
“I’ll eat here.”
Skylar could get room service or go do her own thing, didn’t matter
to me. I paid my money and took my number, which was attached to a little metal stand so the waitress would know where to bring the food, and took a booth away from the front windows.
Somebody had left a magazine on the table. Since it had Ernesto Sanchez on the cover, the man who would soon become known as my little bitch, I decided to flip through it. I was only a few paragraphs into the article about his unparalleled pride when I caught a whiff of perfume and a glimpse of sorority slut to my side.
“Um… excuse me, aren’t you Austin Aquila?”
I looked up and saw their appointed leader standing there, a tall blonde with a clearly enhanced chest that she was showing off with a low cut vest top. Her hands were clasped around a felt pen in front of her short shorts, and the insides of her elbows were pushing her tits together so they spilled out. Subtle.
“Yes I am,” I said.
She squealed and bounced. “I knew it! I was there when you broke Hirokito’s arm, it was the best day of my life! You’re the best!”
“Thanks. Did you want me to sign something?” I gestured at the pen.
I wonder what.
The girl got a devilish look in her eye. “Well… I don’t have anything here, I mean, a napkin is so boring… how about…”
She sat down next to me without waiting to be invited, scooting over close so nobody could see exactly what she was doing. With one hand she pulled her top down an inch or so, revealing a little more of her curvy flesh and the edge of an overworked bra.
“… here.” She finished, holding out the pen.
For fuck sake. I was supposed to be avoiding groupies like this for the sake of my new image, but the way this chick was behaving I was going to have to either fuck her or take out a restraining order.
I took the pen and thought about adding a note like “Money Well Spent!” or “Great Tits,” but just went with my signature even though there was plenty of space. That cleavage was a distracting background while I signed her tit. I had no doubt she was popular at her college.
“Thanks! Hey, my friends and I are just kinda passing through on a road trip. I was wondering, do you like to, you know, party?”
I played dumb while I tried to figure out how to get rid of her without making a scene. “I’m in training right now, so I don’t go clubbing or anything.”
“Well… what about a more… private… party?” She slid a couple inches closer, my name standing out clear in wet ink on her tit.
I sighed. “Listen, I dunno if you heard or anything, but I just got married so…”
“Aw, that’s so sweet…”
She didn’t get up to leave.
“… but… like, she doesn’t have to know, or anything. My friends and I… we like to share. We’re very close.”
“Listen, uh…”
“Candy.”
Of course. “Listen, Candy, I’m sure you’re all a lot of fun, but I can’t.”
“You sure? We wouldn’t tell. You see my friend Debbie over there, the little brunette?”
I looked over to see the other two huddled together looking intently back at us. “Yeah.”
“You wouldn’t know it to look at her, but she can deepthroat anything, and she likes choking on cock until she almost passes out. She’s a lot of fun, and you can do anything you want with Bella and I while she recovers. Anything. I told my boyfriend that you were on my ‘list,’ I’ve got a free pass for you. Our hotel is just around the corner.”
I could see it all now, the look on this chick’s face when we got back to their room and they realized they’d bitten off more than they could chew, when I fucked them all past their breaking point. Debbie choking herself out on my cock while I made the other two sixty-nine each other for my entertainment.
Part of my mind was whirling, thinking about how I could get to their hotel room, fuck them senseless, and leave later on, without being seen. I could get one of them to give me their key card, we could leave the diner separately…
They thought they were something special, as if I’d never been offered anything like this before. I had. They were hot, for sure, but…
Another scene played through my mind, this one something that had happened last night. I was fucking Skylar for the fourth or fifth time, missionary style and going slow before a big finish.
She had her hands clasped behind my neck, watching me fuck her as she squirmed just below the point of moaning her pleasure. Her face was my favorite feature, such an exciting mix of innocence and sex. I wanted to watch her expression when I came in her tight little pussy this time, to watch that knowledge flash behind her eyes as I took everything I wanted from her.
“Am I… good? At this? Did I…” she trailed off.
It sounded like competing teams of wild horses had been fighting between dragging the question out of her, and stopping her from asking it at the same time. Something told me she’d been fighting a long and exhausting internal battle with her own sexuality. She wanted to be in control of it, to own it somehow and accept that side of herself.
“You’re fucking incredible.”
“Do you l-like… me?” she whispered.
Thinking about it now, she caught me by surprise.
It wasn’t because she asked. Most girls ask that after I’ve made them cum so hard they momentarily lose their vision. It wasn’t because I told her “Yes.” That’s just what you said to women until you’re finished fucking them.
At the time, I thought that was all it was. That’s what I’d tried to convince myself when I left this morning too. But the truth was I did like her. That was the surprise.
I liked the way she looked at me when we did that promo spot. I liked the way she said her wedding vows. I liked the way she kept coming over to me for comfort and reassurance at the reception. For fuck sake, I even liked falling asleep with her in my arms after we screwed the night away.
Skylar was about fifty billion times hotter than this gaggle of groupies combined, with a pussy that was mine alone. That didn’t hurt. I’d never seen a girl more turned on by me who still tried to fight the attraction. It made me want her all the more.
I couldn’t run off and have a foursome. Not on the first day of our marriage. Probably not even for as long as this thing went on. I couldn’t do that to her.
Motherfucking dammit. Who’d have thought that the first girl I’d want to fuck more than once would be my wife?
“Well?” Candy asked.
I took a deep breath. This marriage was going to take a lot of restraint.
Skylar
I tried desperately to hold on to my dreams, but I could feel myself floating up into consciousness until my eyes slowly dragged themselves open. What I really wanted to do was sleep for the rest of the week.
Never in all my nineteen years had I woken up so tired. Every muscle screamed fatigue, and protested any attempts to move with burning aches that went right to my core.
When I bent my knees, the pain that flared between my legs was much sharper, reminding me of the non-stop sex last night. I wasn’t what anybody would call unfit; I went to the on-campus gym regularly, but Austin was like a nuclear-powered sex machine.
I looked to the other side of the bed. My neck muscles burned with the simple movement, and my heart sank when I saw it was empty. There was no sound coming from the room or the attached en suite. He was gone.
With no less effort than if I’d woken up from a months-long coma, I struggled to a sitting position and pulled the sheet up over my bare breasts. The sheet… lower down I could see the evidence of what I’d given up last night, and the memories of the last time I spoke to my dad on the phone flashed through my mind.
“Dad… I’m getting married. I’ve found someone and I’m getting married. Will you… will you come for the ceremony? Will you walk me down the aisle?”
“You pregnant?” he asked.
“No.”
“Who’ve you been spreading your worthless whore legs for?”
“Nobody, Dad. Why do
you have to…”
“Well, why else is he marrying you?”
“Maybe he likes me.”
He chuckled humorlessly. “Come on. We all know there’s only one thing a slut like you is good for. You’ve always been like that. Your mother would be turning in her grave.”
I felt so empty. His words hurt, but I’d already spent all the heartache I had on the search for his love and approval. A lifetime’s worth in less than twenty years.
“You won’t come?” I asked quietly.
“No.”
After a silence that seemed to last an hour I spoke as calmly as I could. “Goodbye, Dad.”
I never wanted to speak to him again, yet in this moment it felt like so much of what he’d always said was true. There was only one thing men wanted from me, and only one thing a girl like me ever had to give.
Here I was, having just given away something that was supposed to be so precious, and I was alone again. As if, now that I’d given my virginity away, Austin couldn’t even hang around for a few hours.
I didn’t know what exactly it was that I wanted. I went into this sham marriage with my eyes open. I had no right to expect Austin to have real feelings for me. Just… did he have to leave me alone straight away?
I’d fought so hard to feel like my virginity, my very sexuality, was even mine to give away, to wrestle its ownership away from an overbearing parent who went much too far in his role. Mine. It was supposed to be mine.
Would I even see Austin again outside of our scheduled public appearances? I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands and ran my fingers through my hair.
The hair on one side of my head felt matted, and I had a flashback to last night, Austin kneeling over me and stroking his cock as thick ropes of cum splattered my face and hair. It was hard to believe now, but the evidence was right there.
I’d been so lost in the moment, mesmerized by his overwhelming masculinity and ability to drive me halfway to the nuthouse with lust, that I’d been doing my best to catch as much of it as I could in my mouth, lapping at the flying sperm and frantically swallowing to make room for more. Nothing and nobody besides Austin had ever made me let go of myself like that. Why couldn’t I live in the moment more often?
