Ladies Prefer Champagne Alpha Male Romance Mega Bundle

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Ladies Prefer Champagne Alpha Male Romance Mega Bundle Page 28

by Champagne Jackson


  “You mean from my hand or from girls?” he asked with a grin. I gave him a sharp squeeze, eliciting the slightest of pained yelps from his lips.

  “From girls, silly.”

  “Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t.”

  I wasn’t going to get a good answer out of him, so I lowered my face to his cock and gave the tip a kiss. I realized then and there that I hadn’t even kissed him. Somehow, it felt more right to begin with this.

  We would probably never see each other again, so why bother with the kissing? We’ll just have fun and this afternoon would be a memory, the kind of thing I’d take with me during my years at the convent—proof of my defiance towards the mother superior, proof that I was still a woman, underneath the habit and robes.

  His flesh was hot and tasted salty and sweaty. As my lips ran over his skin, I was seized by an almost uncontrollable hunger—the kind that I knew wouldn’t be sated just by this encounter. Damn it all to hell, I thought to myself, as I began to lick him.

  I ran my tongue from the base of his cock up to his thick tip, swirling my hot, wet mouth around the fat head of his cock. He grunted in delight and reached out to run a hand through my kinky, nappy hair. That was the first time in years a man had run his hands through my hair. I hadn’t washed it in months. It was thick and tangled.

  Hell, that was the first time in years a man had touched me.

  The touch of his fingers made me feel like he was dropping little pinpricks of electricity onto my skull, like I were one of those pink electric globes you put your fingers on to generate static electricity. His hands were surprisingly gentle, though, in spite of the calluses I could see dotting his palms and finger tips.

  “Damn, but that’s good. You must have been a natural in high school.”

  Well, I definitely had been well-praised for the… three blow jobs I had managed to give my freshman year before I was taken out of school. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time but I guess it’s like riding a bike. You never really forget.

  Now, I took him into my mouth, letting my plump, wet lips run over his thickness, letting him enter me. God, but it felt amazing, having this hot, throbbing piece of flesh in my mouth, having every part of it touch me, be subsumed in me. I ran my tongue along his shaft as I guided my mouth on and off of his cock. I even let my teeth run along the underside of his massive length, scraping his shaft and drawing more soft moans from his quivering lips. I nibbled his cock delicately, even tugging at the skin of his rod, pulling at it, savoring the way it stretched in my mouth, in between my lips…

  “Aw, fuck, that’s good…” he grunted. “Go faster.”

  I pulled off his cock.

  “We’re doing things on my schedule, mister.”

  He scowled in mock frustration as I slid him back into my mouth, puckering my lips as he went so that he got the full effect of my sucking him. Finally, I began to bob my head, pursing my lips so that he slid in and out easily. I went slow, however, making it pleasurably torturous for him. I wanted him to want his relief. I wanted him to earn it. More than anything, I wanted him to remember me.

  Even though I knew this could be nothing but a one-night stand (disregarding the fact that it was four in the afternoon) I wanted this to be something more. I wanted something more than a chance encounter out of this. But it was impossible, and so the only way I could make sure it was something more was if I made these moments unforgettable for Dario.

  And judging from the way he moaned and held onto me as I sucked him, I was well on my way.

  “Oh, god, Imani, Jesus Christ…” he grunted, thrusting his hips up into my mouth, the fat tip of his cock claiming a few more inches of my mouth. I began to bob my head faster and faster, coming almost all the way off his cock before plunging back down onto it, letting his fat prick invade my sanctified mouth.

  Even as it slid into my mouth and I struggled to remember how to pleasure a man with my mouth, how to suck a cock like the girls in the porn I had watched with my friends years and years ago, how to please a man like my girlfriends used to complain about having to do to their boyfriends… I couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like inside of my pussy. God forgive me!

  “Is it good?” I whispered in between sloppy, slurpy sucks. I, of course, knew his answer. There was no way it could be anything but. I wasn’t that sheltered here at the convent.

  “It’s fucking excellent,” he answered as I started to play with his balls, teasing and stroking them as I sucked him faster and faster. I even let his cock slide down my throat, gagging a little bit but maintaining my composure as his cock disappeared deeper and deeper into my mouth, almost till my nose was buried in his pubic hair. He grunted as I sucked him, his cock twitching and spasming in my mouth. God, but I loved the feeling of his dick in my mouth. I loved the way it felt, its warmth and weight and the way he seemed to want his release so, so badly…

  “Fuck… Imani… I’m getting close…”

  He gripped me hard by the hair and, with that, he was cumming. Stream after stream of hot cum flooded my mouth. I gagged only slightly but almost immediately, I found myself sucking his cum down, swallowing it obediently, like a good girl—like his girl. It was salty and only slightly bitter—so much different from what I remembered in high school. I decided I liked it. I decided I liked his cum and I slurped down every drop greedily, licking the remains off his cock.

  I lapped at it obediently, like a dog or a cat determined to slurp up every last bit of her dinner, not knowing when or where she’ll eat again.

  Because that was me—I knew I had to savor this moment, because this of course my be the very last time in my life that I had a man in my mouth, that I even touch a man in any way other than the most delicate and platonic and friendly way.

  This was an unexpected gift and I had to take advantage of it, no matter what the future had in store for me. This I knew for certain.

  “Well, hot damn,” he said with a satisfied sigh, putting his cock away. Back into his pants it disappeared, my lips having given it a final kiss goodbye.

  “Was that okay?” I asked shyly. I don’t know why but, all of a sudden, I felt very unsure of myself—very concerned that he wouldn’t have liked it.

  “Girl, that was amazing,” Dario said, pulling me in for a kiss. And god, that kiss… His lips were hot and addictive, like fires raking over my mouth. As we kissed, I felt myself melt into him a bit, holding onto his strong shoulders, feeling the muscles undulating beneath his flesh. I didn’t want him to go, though I knew he must. We lived in different worlds and though they had collided for an afternoon, there was no way we could be together.

  He slid his hands underneath my sweatshirt and I gasped, feeling his strong fingers on my breasts. I was wearing a ratty, completely unsexy bra—the only kind of bra nuns ever wear. I found myself blushing, but not because I was embarrassed that he was touching my breasts.

  I had always had a nice set, I thought, and I was popular in high school because of it. I often missed those halcyon days of flirting awkwardly with boys on the bus in middle school, of unbutton my blouse an extra few buttons so that they could snag a peek at my growing cleavage. And it had been generous even then…

  No, the reason I was embarrassed was the way I was dressed. I felt so totally unsexy, I found myself shying away from his hands, no matter how much I wanted them. He persisted and I grabbed his wrists, forcing his hands down to his sides.

  “Oh, what’s wrong…” he growled, that hungry look in his handsome eyes. “You’re upset now because you broke your stupid vows?”

  “No, no, no… I just…”

  I couldn’t look him in the eye. I covered myself—I felt naked, even though I was still fully clothed. I had fantasized about doing something like this but I never looked like I did now: I was never in an overgrown sweatshirt, muddy from a day of gardening, sunburned and gross. But even as I looked down at the ground, down at my blistered feet encased in strong, workman’s boots, Dario caught me by the
chin and tilted my head up.

  “Hey, there, sister,” he cooed softly. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

  “I just… It’s stupid.”

  He pulled me close into a kiss. I let myself be kissed, let his lips and tongue mold my mouth to hit. It felt good and for a moment, I felt myself start to forget, start to slide. But then I pushed him away again.

  “No, I’m sorry, I feel so gross. I’m disgusting. How can you be into this? Are you just that desperate?”

  He let out a harsh, short laugh. It was the kind of laugh you’d expect to hear from a man just condemned to die, but there was a warmth in that laugh—unexpected, but it was there, and it made me want to throw my arms around his strong neck and tumble into the turnips with him.

  “Let me show you something,” he said. He dug into the pocket of his worn blue jeans and pulled out a cell phone—one of the filthiest, most beaten up, cracked smartphones that’s ever walked this earth, I was positive. He held it up and snapped a picture of me. I looked down as the camera clicked. He flipped the phone around, showing me my picture.

  “Does that look like what a desperate man goes for?”

  I resisted for as long as I could but before long, I found my eyes drifting upward to look at my picture. I all but gasped. It was so long since I had seen my own reflection in the mirror as that of a woman and not of a sexless sister and… I was pretty. My dark hair was a mess but not an unpleasant one. I wore no make up but I didn’t need it.

  Years of healthy living and eating, years of regular exercise and no liquor, no sweets, nothing bad, it had all left me with a thin, model’s face, my dark eyes looking all the bigger for it. There was some dirt on my cheek but it didn’t look out of place. I looked like a diamond in the rough, a flower in the dust. I had no idea I looked like this. How had I been missing that for years?

  “See, I shouldn’t have shown that to you…” Dario said with a laugh. “Now, you’re never going to want to touch me again, since you know you’re better’n that—“

  I cut him off with a kiss. I guided his hands up my sweatshirt, to my aching breasts. He teased my hot flesh and I rewarded him with a moan. My hard nipples hadn’t been touched like this, hadn’t been teased like this… The feeling of his rough hands, digging into my bra, groping and stroking my soft, neglected breasts, it all drove me wild. Goddamn, but sinning was good.

  As he stroked my nipples, I undid my bra and slid it off for him, out under my sweatshirt. I pulled my sweatshirt up and grabbed him by the head. I forced his mouth onto my right nipple and I gasped as he began to suckle enthusiastically.

  “Oh, god, Dario!” I cried out in delight as his hot, wet tongue washed over my sensitive flesh, teasing and slathering my skin with his hot desire.

  “Was that what you wanted, sister?” he growled between kisses and nips. “That’s what you’ve been aching for for years, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t want to confess that it was… It most definitely was. I hated that he could tell. I was sure at that very moment that it was obvious, how neglected I was, how deeply my lusts had been buried in my psyche and how they were just waiting to come flooding out.

  I began to undo my jeans. My belt came off and then, keeping my breasts firmly pressed into his mouth, His tongue obediently lashed my nipple, teasing that sensitive nub, his teeth occasionally tearing at my hot needy flesh. I slid my jeans down my long, muscled legs.

  I was wearing the most boring, the most plain, the most conservative and dull underwear you can imagine but I didn’t give a damn. I lost them and threw them into the dirt, as if casting off my sisterhood—if only for the day.

  I slid his cock out again. His soldier stood at attention, twitching and saluting me. I was wet, wetter than I ever could remember being. My juices ran down my thighs as I straddled him and pressed the hot, throbbing tip to my wet hole. I couldn’t believe I was about to do this… This had to be a fantasy, a delicious dream.

  If it were a dream, then I didn’t want to wake up.

  He switched to my other nipple as I slid down his shaft, gasping as I was penetrated for the first time in years. Dario let out a soft groan.

  “Jesus Christ, you feel like a virgin…” he groaned.

  “I only ever had sex once before,” I whispered huskily as I pressed myself down all the way onto him, our hips meeting, the hair on our crotches intermingling, building a forest of sexuality and passion between our legs. “And that was over four years ago. I might as well be a virgin.”

  “Well, I’m delighted to take your virginity. I’m positively fucking honored,” he said with a grunt, partially from pleasure and partially, I imagine, from pain, as I was pressing on his wounded belly indirectly with my hips. I pulled him a bit, shifted my wait, and then sank down again, gasping as his cock disappeared inside my hot core once more.

  “You should,” I groaned in delight, savoring the feeling of him inside of me. How could I describe it? It was like waking up after a long spell of hibernation. My body felt so alive. Every cell of my being was alive with fire as I raised myself once more and then lowered my body, ever so slowly, torturously slowly, putting both of us through that exquisite agony of love-making as I sank onto his manhood.

  I was suddenly scared. Scared that we would be caught, discovered, here on this sanctified ground. I was a nun, for Christ’s sake… And here I was, riding the cock of a man I had only just met. We weren’t even using protection. That had gotten me in trouble before.

  But as his cock slid through my tightness, teasing the inner nooks of my hole, pressing deep into my body, all of those concerns flowed away. The walls of my pussy gripped him tight, holding the fleshy tool deep within my consecrated depths, deep within the love tunnel which was supposed to have been off limits to men for the rest of my life… Fat chance of that.

  Now, I just wanted more of him. I just wanted him to fuck me, to fuck him, to make up for all the pleasure, all the self-expression I had missed. I wanted to experience it all.

  And so I began to work my hips, bouncing harder and harder and taking his cock deep, grinding my swollen clit against his strong hips. I moaned and bit my tongue, afraid that someone would hear us.

  Of course, it was nearly impossible—we were far enough from the convent and close enough to the highway that no one could hear us unless they came looking for me. And the other sisters would be caught up right now in their late afternoon tasks: making dinner, cleaning the convent… Certainly not riding a hard slice of manhood.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I murmured in ecstasy. Each time I slid down his shaft, I felt the electricity of our sex flood my body. I couldn’t wait to feel his cum inside of me. I had already decided that I didn’t care what happened.

  This could very well be the last time I ever had sex and I wanted to make it count, damn it. I felt his cock throb and twitch inside of me and I hoped that meant he was getting close. At the same time, I hoped he could hold out because I didn’t want that moment to end.

  You see, I was free in that moment. Sure, I was a sinner and one hell of a sinner at that, riding a man I had only just met on the convent grounds, but I was doing it because I wanted to. It was, perhaps, the first thing I had done for myself since I was in high school. It was the first time in over four years that I had done something solely for myself and I loved it and I wanted to live in that moment for as long as I could.

  “Kiss me,” I hissed to Dario, covering his mouth with mine, claiming his mouth as I claimed his cock, making him all mine as I rode him. He grunted into our kiss, grabbing my hard by the hair. I yelped at his delicious roughness and forced my hips hard onto his, drawing a cry from his lips as I hit his wound. Two could play at this game, I meant to tell him.

  He gripped me hard by the ass now and I let out a yelp as he pulled me down onto his cock. I squealed as he spread my ass cheeks apart—I felt so vulnerable, here in the garden, spread open and plunging onto his cock. He grunted as my pussy massaged his cock and I could only moan in response, my bo
dy quivering around him.

  “I’m getting close,” he grunted. And oh, boy, could I feel it… I felt him twitching inside of me, his cock throbbing, expanding, filling me up even more. This was a feeling I had felt before, years ago, of course… But I couldn’t even remember the sensation. It was a distant memory, lost in the fog of my youth.

  I had been kind of drunk at the time and it was over before I knew what was happening. But here, with Dario, every stroke, every movement of his cock, every moment was poetry. Every moment drove me wild, every moment tore into me, dug into me, spread me open wide and claimed me all over again…

  And then he was cumming, his cock flooding my tight chamber with his hot, stickiness. I gasped. It had been years. And it felt… Incredible. I sighed and threw my head back, groaning as his cock throbbed, as it pumped, pulsating inside of me and filling my wet core with his seed.

 

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