“Oh!” she gasped as she bounced onto the coverlet, ass jiggling, those big breasts flying. And I was on her in a second, parting those thighs with my massive hands, licking at her nips, stroking her cunt, feeling the wet folds cream for me, going at her, testosterone engulfing my body as I felt up my female, marking what was mine.
And the girl just twisted and squirmed beneath me, loving every second, egging me on with breathless “oohs” and “ahhs” of pleasure, her moist cunt gushing even more, nips as hard as rocks. Fuck, I tongued one in my mouth and rolled it around, that savory breast flesh so soft and hard at once that I devoured as much as possible, stuffing miles and miles into me, sucking on her tit like a starving man.
And the woman was a horny slut, hands down. Her hands scrabbled at my fly so that my cock popped out like a fucking jack in the box, stiff and ready to ream on demand. And she was hungry, her mouth falling open for a taste. If I wasn’t mistaken, it was almost like she hadn’t been banged in a long time and was desperate to take cock, taste it, fondle it, feel it all over her body. So not missing a beat, the brunette leaned down and sucked me into her mouth, the sensation so amazing, so fucking mind-blowing that I threw my head back and roared, my baseball cap flying off, the cords of my throat standing out as my chest and abs tightened, my balls ready to cream. But the little girl wasn’t letting up. Determinedly she sucked, her cheeks hollowing, those pink lips pursing around my stiff rod, her tongue trailing the vein along the bottom as she worked her way up and down.
“Arrmuphh?” she mumbled through the man meat in her mouth, her eyes flying up to glance at me through her lashes. Fuck, it looked so good, this nubile little girl, totally naked with my dick stuffed in her mouth, cheeks bulging with hot meat. “Arrmuuph?” she mumbled again, unable to articulate clearly. And I nodded knowingly.
“Yeah, in your mouth,” I growled. “I’m gonna shoot reams of hot semen into your little tummy, how does that sound? You gonna like it? Is that what you want?”
And the way her eyelids floated down dreamily, the look of ravenous hunger mixed with anticipation that crossed the brunette’s face told me that that was exactly what she wanted. Her soft hands crept up to stroke my strong thighs, the bottoms of my balls where I was especially ticklish and wandered to caress my perineum, the sensitive skin between my balls and ass. Oh fuck, I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. I hadn’t had a woman touch me there in ages, it felt so fucking good.
But the brunette wasn’t done yet. While she worked my pole with her mouth, her fingers dropped back more to stroke between my butt cheeks, feeling for the dark, musty hole, my rusty star. And I seized her small hand then, those soft fingers stilling in my grasp.
“You sure you wanna go there, baby girl?” I rasped, hot slashes streaking my cheeks, my dick positively leaking cum into her mouth now. “You sure you wanna go there so early?”
The big brown eyes stared at me, her cheeks still stuffed with my penis. Slowly, she bobbed her head up and down, affirming the exploration and I groaned even as I released her hands to begin their work again.
Because the girl was about to give me a prostate massage, heighten and magnifying a male orgasm with soft strokes on the interior of my anus, caressing where only a finger could reach. So I held my breath as she began her penetration. Fortunately, the brunette’s fingers were small so the breach didn’t take long. She circled my pleats softly at first before applying firm pressure to my anus, and with a few thrusts, it popped and she was into my sphincter one knuckle, then two.
“Oh fuck,” I groaned gutturally, my dick hardening even more, my balls high and tight, ready to spray at any moment. So much blood had flowed to my groin that I was ready to shoot on a moment’s notice, I was so fucking turned on, my hands buried in the brunette’s curls as she sucked my dick and fingered my ass.
And she didn’t let me down. The pressure on my fuckrod increased, her mouth going at it like a powerful vacuum while her little hand worked its magic in my ass, softly teasing before rubbing in circles, nimbly finding that special place that blew up my pleasure tenfold.
And that was it, I was a fucking goner. “FUCK!” I growled, gushing like a fire hose on max. “FUCK FUCK FUCK!” I roared as I unleashed into her mouth, choking her with lash after lash of hot milk, the white flying furiously down her throat, filling her cheeks until they overflowed, semen dripping out between my penis and her lips, coursing down her chin to drop to the floor.
“FUCK!” I bellowed again, gripping her head tight as I fucked her mouth, my hips moving like pistons, forcing her to take it. But I could tell the pounding was overwhelming her, her eyes were watering, lips stretched unbearably by my size, so I let up. Although I hadn’t finished coming, I pulled out and sprayed the rest of my sperm onto the coverlet, a pool of hot liquid seeping into the cotton as my dick unleashed its power, its juice, jerking and spasming furiously.
And the brunette watched with wide brown eyes, amazed at the sheer amount I had to give. She’d already swallowed several mouthfuls and yet I was spraying more and more, coating her bed in a film of cum, my seed so copious and wet that the duvet was soaked through in a matter of seconds.
And after I’d finished orgasming, my big body heaving, sweat glistening on my chest and abs, my dick semi-hard still, dripping with remnants of semen, the little girl did something so disgusting, so rancid, that I was immediately ramrod hard again.
Because the little slut got on her hands and knees, nude, beautiful and wet, and shook her kitty at me before dipping her head to the coverlet and tonguing the pool of cream. That’s right, the kitty cat was lapping at my sperm, drinking the semen that I’d spilled and she was really into it, closing her eyes while savoring the taste, licking her lips like it was the best stuff on Earth. And I watched, mesmerized, the nastiness of her actions jumpstarting my pulse to about two hundred miles an hour. Because oh yeah, this girl was perfect for me … we were two parts to a puzzle and I’d just met my match.
CHAPTER SIX
Laurie
Oh god, it was so delicious. I loved the fact that I’d just fucked my delivery man with no idea of what his name was, no condom, no nothing. It was so wrong and it turned me on, living on the wild side.
Because I’d been depressed and repressed at once, the divorce painful, and this hot action, this nasty little episode, was just the thing to shake me from my despair. So I completely let go, acting out my wildest fantasies, not holding back at all, sucking him deep while sticking my finger up his ass, drinking his juices, and after it was all over, pushing my tongue into the wet pool on the duvet.
And the big man loved it, watching my every move with ravenous eyes, his dick springing back to life even after he came.
“Fuck, little girl,” he rasped hoarsely, unable to tear his eyes away as I dipped my head for another taste of sperm on the coverlet. “Fuck, how’d you get so dirty?”
And I just looked up and smiled, pausing for a moment.
“Mister,” I murmured throatily. “It comes natural to me.”
His eyes lit on fire then.
“Natural, huh?” he asked, slapping a big hand against my ass, making me jump with shock before quivering with pleasure, those square fingers already massaging the sensitive space, my skin warm almost hot, tingling at his touch. “Well, you’re the best natural I’ve ever had.”
And I flushed, pleased then. Because I’d been so horny, so provocative that he hadn’t guessed my secret … that I’m a virgin. Yeah, it’s pretty unbelievable given that I’d just done a deep-throat combined with a prostate massage, but you can learn anything on the internet these days and I’ve seen my fair share of porn, firing up my laptop to surf the nasty sites, always making sure to clear my history afterwards. And even though I’m a slut, what I’d done today was nothing, totally nothing compared to what professionals did on screen.
But yeah, going back to my admission – I’m a virgin who’s also a divorcee. And it makes a twisted kind of sense once you know my story. Becau
se why else do you think I left my husband? Gary and I dated two years before the wedding and we’d never done it during that time, never sampled each other, never explored each other intimately. My ex always said he wanted to “save himself,” arguing that he was “respecting me” by not touching me until there was a wedding band on my finger.
And I was so young then, so naïve, that I bought it. Gary was completely different from the boys in high school who’d been all over me, pawing at my breasts, trying to grope my pussy, even begging me for blow jobs, pleading with their faces scrunched up, groins twisted in agony. So when Gary argued that he was being the better man, acting the gentleman, I believed it.
Except when it came to our wedding night, he didn’t deliver. At first, it was no big deal. We were in the honeymoon suite at midnight, exhausted from the festivities and Gary was face down on the big bed, still dressed in his tuxedo, shiny loafers on.
“Gary,” I said, prodding his shoulder. “Come on, get up. It’s time to get lucky.”
I’d shed my wedding gown and was clad in nothing but high heels some flimsy, filmy lingerie, a tiny teddy and matching g-string I’d picked up at a French boutique a couple days earlier. Oh yeah, the time had come and I was horny and wet, desperate to get my cherry popped. Even though we were exhausted and tired, I was still intent on fucking my new husband asap.
“Come on Gary,” I prodded again, groaning as I rolled his massive form over, trying to force him awake with a series of shakes at his shoulder. “Don’t you want to taste me? Come on, open your eyes, look,” I said. And I popped a boob out of my negligee, the huge tit pendulous and creamy as I dangled it against his lips, trailing the pink nipple across his mouth. “Come on big boy, doesn’t that taste good? Wake up, wake up.”
But Gary was dead to the world. He was so gone, so tired and drunk from partying that I couldn’t rouse him, couldn’t shake him from his stupor. I stared at the prone male form, disappointed and horny. WTF?! I’d been dreaming of this day for twenty-two years and my body was on fire, dying for cock, running wet and steamy despite the fact that my supposed partner in crime was a bag of rocks at the moment.
Looking at his unresponsive body, I thought through my options. I could be a good girl and get in the shower and go to bed, desperate and unfulfilled, or I could make the best of the situation. I pursed my lips, thinking. It wasn’t fair. I’d been dying for this moment, buying the special lingerie, shaving myself, primping with high-end products, and fuck but Gary was such a let-down. I looked at him closely again, and the man was handsome even passed out, that perfect, chiseled face, the jaw strong and firm even though his mouth slightly open as he snored.
So I went for it. I was too desperate, too horny, and needed to sate myself, needed to get myself off as best I could using what was at hand. And if my new husband woke up midway, it’d just be an amazing surprise right? Any guy would die to be in his place.
So I crawled onto the bed, moving up his big body slowly, stealthily, careful not to disturb him. I crouched in a kneeling position, my legs spread over his face and braced one hand on the headboard for balance. With my other hand, I swept my panties to the side, baring my sweet cunt, my nether lips engorged, already dripping with cream and slowly, oh so slowly, lowered my pussy onto Gary’s face. I know I was taking advantage of him, taking advantage of a drunk man who could hardly protect himself, but still, what new husband wouldn’t die to wake up like this? It was like a dream come true, most dudes would eat it up, literally and figuratively.
So sinking down on my knees, I pressed my kitty against his face, wiping the soft flesh all over his cheeks, chin and mouth. And fuck, it felt good. Gary was snoring slightly, the air whistling between his lips, blowing a stream of cool air onto my cunt, and when I ground my pussy hard against his nose, he let out a honking snort, his eyes even flickering slightly.
I held my breath, going completely still. But Gary was too drunk to wake up, so I kept going, circling my kitty on his face, wiping my juices all over him, my little hand trailing across my clit as I ground onto his mouth, nose, and chin. And the magic started, a sizzling sensation began to burn deep in my snatch, emanating in waves out to my pelvic region, making my knees shiver, my tummy clench and shake with ecstasy.
And I let go then, both hands clutching the headboard as I threw my head back and screamed, boobies bouncing.
“Fuuuuck!” I shrieked. “Oh fuuuuuck!”
My pussy was creaming like mad now, there was so much juice that it was literally gushing all over Gary’s cheeks, his face completely wet and shiny from my cum, the nectar oozing down over his chin, seeping into his tux collar. But I didn’t care. This was my wedding night and I intended on having sex with my husband even if he couldn’t participate. So I came and came and came, grinding my kitty against him, drenching him, feeding him my nectar while he slept.
And Gary, that fucking slob, didn’t stir at all, not even a little bit. He was a dumb dunce, what guy doesn’t come to when your new wife pounds her pussy against you, yelling and screaming like a banshee, coating your nose and mouth with her honey? But Gary is a stupid fuck and just kept snoring, his eyes shut tight, probably dreaming of video games or some other lame shit. In retrospect, he was probably dreaming of his mistress but at that time, I had no idea about the betrayal to come.
So I just helped myself to a huge orgasm, grinding onto the handsome man’s face again and again. And after it was over, I shook myself off, spraying him with a few last droplets of cream before getting off and padding to the bathroom, my pussy satisfied and loose, but not quite loose enough. I wanted it loose from dick, from having a huge monster inside and hopefully my husband would be lucid tomorrow to really get it on, dick in twat style.
But there was no tomorrow. The next morning when Gary woke up, he groaned, sitting up, clutching his head like it was pounding.
“What’s that smell?” were his first words, his voice hoarse and raspy.
“What smell?” I asked innocently, blinking my eyes like a doe. I was already up and awake, dressed in a silk robe sitting at the small table in our suite, eating room service. “Maybe my eggs and bacon?” I asked, forking another bite into my mouth, savoring the mouth-watering Canadian ham. Our parents had gone all out, treating us to the honeymoon suite and I was enjoying the entire package.
But Gary groaned again, shaking his head, lifting the collar of his dress shirt to his nose for a sniff.
“No, that other smell,” he croaked again, eyes bleary. “It’s pungent but aromatic, really, really …” and his eyes widened suddenly.
“What is it?” I asked again innocently, biting into another forkful of egg. Mmm, this omelet was done just right, fluffy with a bit of cilantro for spice.
“Fuck, Laurie,” he growled, his eyes growing dark with rage. “Did you? Did you really …?”
But I wasn’t done playing with him yet.
“Did I what?” I asked, finally putting my fork down. “What did you want to ask me, honey?” I said sweetly.
And Gary jumped to his feet, his massive form shaking with rage, his face going beet red then deep purple, eyes bugging out.
“Did you come on my face last night?” he bellowed, heaving for air as he tried to get the words out. “Did you fucking orgasm on my face while I was asleep?”
And I nodded sweetly again, not at all intimidated.
“Yes, Gary. And it was wonderful, you were passed out so I figured I’d help myself to the goods,” I cooed. “I came not once, not twice, but three times, all without your help,” I added helpfully. “Your snoring is really arousing, by the way, the vibrations feel amazing on my clit.”
And my new husband lost it then.
“You fucking fucked my face while I was passed out?” he screeched, jumping up and down like a monkey. “Do you realize how wrong that is? We were saving it for marriage, we were supposed to take each other’s virginities, it was supposed to be a special time and you’ve fucking ruined it!” he screamed. “You who
re, you slut! You’ve ruined it.”
But I just smiled. I swear, Gary was so handsome but juvenile sometimes. He should have thanked me for using him as my fuckdoll, how many guys ever got the opportunity? But I couldn’t get a word in because my new husband really flew off the handle then.
“I wish I’d never married you!” he screamed, yanking his wedding ring off and throwing it into the far reaches of the room, the metal band disappearing under some furniture. I sighed and rolled my eyes. At the time, I thought this was over-the-top dramatic given that we’d just lovingly exchanged vows not twenty-four hours ago in front of dozens of friends and family. But Gary couldn’t be stopped, he was serious.
“You better not be here after I get out of the shower,” he ground out, his face mottled, spittle flying from his lips. “Get the fuck out,” he raged before stomping into the en suite.
I just shrugged, not taking him seriously. I figured a hot shower would calm him down, help take the edge off the hangover, but that was my mistake because my new husband was actually dead serious. When Gary came out of the bathroom and saw me sitting there still, calmly finishing my breakfast, he stomped over to the closet and began throwing random things into a suitcase.
“What are you doing?” I asked, eyebrows raised. As a newlywed of twenty-four hours, I never expected what happened next, not in a million years.
“I’m leaving,” he stated coldly, not even looking at me. And I shrugged, not too worried. We’d had fights before and I figured Gary just needed to cool down, we were meeting some family for a post-wedding brunch in a few hours, surely he’d put on a smile and act like a happy groom even if he was still seething inside.
But no, Gary actually checked out of the hotel and disappeared. Just like that, he became an invisible man nowhere to be found, ignoring all my texts, my pleading voicemails, my desperate attempts to reach him. And I was really embarrassed.
“Where is he?” whispered my mom during the brunch. We were supposed to be celebrating our nuptials, but one half of the happy couple was nowhere to be found. “Your husband was drunk last night but still, honey, he should be here,” she said reprovingly.
The Billionaire's Kitten: A Fake Marriage Romance Page 41
