But wait, that hadn’t happened yet. Despite the fact that he’d made me cream and shudder for him wetly, Mr. Jones hadn’t come yet and I desperately wanted him to … with his dick in my pussy.
So I mewled and lapped at him, running my tongue delicately across the strong jaw, sampling him while biting lightly at his shoulder.
“Please Mr. Jones,” I said sweetly. “Put it in? My kitty wants you.”
And the big man’s shaft was a massive fucking pole between us, standing straight up and leaking from the tip, practically brushing against my nipples it was so hard and stiff. So I knew he wanted it, and it was just a matter of getting it in, right? But I was naïve and had no idea how simplistic my views were.
“Honey,” he ground out. “I want you to get my pole wet first.”
I looked at him, puzzled.
“But Mr. Jones, there’s pre-cum running all over your dick. Aren’t you wet enough already?” I asked innocently, reaching out one finger to touch the tip where the white cum flowed from, the source of the goodness. And oh god, it was my first time touching a penis and it felt so good. I circled his head, exploring a little, the glans puffy and deep purple, hard yet soft at once, slickly wet with his semen. And then I ran my little fist down his shaft, pumping it experimentally, tracing a vein delicately with my fingertip before playing with his balls down below.
“Ahhh,” groaned the big man, his face growing strained, eyes shut. “Fuck, you’re amazing,” he growled roughly.
I paused for a moment, my hand stilling.
“Mr. Jones, don’t you like it?” I asked innocently, eyes wide, boobies jutting out to there. We were seated facing each other and my hard nipples could almost touch his chest, we were so close.
“Fuck, you know I fucking love it,” he ground out. “But I want you to wet me with your juice.”
Now I was really puzzled.
“But how?” I cocked my head, spreading my legs to look down at my pussy. Of course the folds were wet and pulsing already, glistening under the light, swollen with orgasm and desire, but I didn’t see how exactly to get my pussy cream on him unless he put it in.
The big man just shook his head, sensing my bewilderment.
“Here,” he said, holding out a hand, “get up for a minute.”
And I stood up for a moment as he lay back, his legs spread out with his dick in front of him, sticking straight up in the air. Fuck, it was really leaking now, a dripping faucet with a constant stream of cum oozing out the tip. It looked delicious and my mouth watered, dying to taste, but Mr. Jones had plans first.
“Now straddle my legs,” he ground out roughly, “Careful, don’t fall.”
And slowly, I brought myself down so that we were facing each other, my ass on his thighs, my legs parted so that my pussy was almost covering his balls. Giggling, I ground down a little on those sensitive testicles, loving the way the soft skin felt against my slick folds. Mmm, it was just so yummy.
But Mr. Jones shot me a sharp look.
“That’s it, honey, I want you to grind away but I want you to do it on my dick, do the camel toe slide.”
A camel toe slide? What the fuck was that? But the big man was ready.
“Baby,” he said hoarsely. “I’m gonna teach you how to ride my dick horizontally, rubbing that little kitty all over my fuckpole so you get it wet with your cream, and then you’re gonna sit down on me. Got it?”
And I didn’t get it at all, but I loved the way it sounded so I bit my lip and nodded.
“Just show me what to do, Mr. Jones, and I’ll do it,” I whispered.
And groaning, he pulled his dick towards him so that it lay flat against his stomach.
“Now mount it,” he commanded. “Get up and pull your pussy lips apart and then slide up and down my dick.”
And slowly, I did as I was told. I hoisted myself on my knees and reached two fingers down to part my lips, baring my moist, wet kitty. And then I leaned forward, planting my pussy down on his shaft horizontally and began rubbing up and down.
Fuck! It felt so good. I’d never dreamed about humping a man’s dick this way but it was fucking heaven, his shaft was so hot, so hard under my cunt, I could feel his veins throbbing beneath my own swollen flesh, and the angle was perfect.
“That’s right,” the big man said hoarsely, his eyes hot on where we touched, where my pink folds parted so sweetly over his pole, glued to the giant shaft, gripping him tight. “Rub yourself up and down sweetheart, get me wet with your cunt juice. And make yourself feel good baby, rub that clit against my shaft while you do the slide.”
And I arched my hips forward and back, dragging my nub along his shaft, teasing myself, teasing him, feeling the hot meat move slickly through my pussy lips. God, it was so fucking hot that I gushed more, the cream spilling out and smearing all over him as I slid back and forth along the big man’s fuckpole.
“That’s it,” he rasped hoarsely, his eyes still glued to the nasty sight. “Keep creaming, get me wet with your fuckjuice.”
And I went at it like a crazy girl then. I humped myself up and down, dragging my clit against his hot meat, the man staff making me tremble, jiggle and shiver. My nub of pleasure felt like it was going to explode and I kept gushing hot gust after hot gust of pussy cream, the fluids between us so copious, so overwhelming that we were both coated in white now.
And the big man threw his head back and roared, his face tense with pleasure. I almost thought he’d come, but no, he was saving the best for last.
“Now fuck me, little girl,” he commanded. “Fuck that big dick with your virgin pussy.”
I gasped. I’d always thought it would be easier the first time if the man took charge, if he grabbed my hips and thrust in, it’d be done in half a second, my hymen busted and gone.
But the big man chuckled deep in his chest, shaking his head.
“No baby, I’ve always wanted to see a desperate virgin fuck herself onto my dick,” he rasped. “And that desperate virgin just happens to be you.”
Oh god, oh god. Was I stuck in some kind of sick fantasy? Some kind of weird porn movie where I acted out a depraved scene? But the thing is that I did want Chris, I was so horny and willing that I was actually going to do what he ordered. So I lifted my hips, high up on my knees, and tried to lower myself down on his aching shaft.
It was okay at first. My pussy lips kissed his dick tip, brushing gently, like a butterfly landing on a flower. And as I pressed down, they split, parting wetly over his head and oh god but he felt good and I moaned deep in my chest, my vaginal hole breached for the first time by a man’s stiff shaft. Oh god, oh god, this was really happening.
“Keep going,” Chris ground out, his eyes never leaving my face. “Fuck that hungry kitty onto my dick, show me how much you want it.”
And screwing up my face, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried again. Pushing down once more, I forced my pelvic area down so that a couple more inches of cock slid in, making me scream, shriek at the incredible fullness, the way my pussy lips hugged his cock, gripping him tight, my inner channel breached.
“Oh god, oh god!” I screamed. “Mr. Jones!”
And the big man was encouraging.
“You’re almost there baby girl,” he soothed. “We’re at the breaking point, do you feel that? My dick tip is pressed against your hymen baby. If you really want me in you, you’ll do it.”
And I knew it was true. I was so stretched, so full, so fucked, but I needed him in me all the way, balls pressed against my asshole, clit tight up against his pelvic region. So I took a deep breath, screwing up my eyes and screamed once before impaling myself all the way.
“Fuck!” I screamed. “Fuck fuck fuck!”
Because I’d done it. I’d pushed myself all the way down until he was buried to the hilt, and my pussy ached from the penetration, he was fucking me so deep and I could hardly breathe, the shock of having a man in my most secret space, buried all the way to the core, psychologically and physically spin
ning me onto another plane.
But the big man held on to me, nuzzling me, soothing me, encouraging me.
“That’s it baby girl,” he murmured against my neck. “You’ve been a good girl and busted your own hymen on my cock. Good girl, I’d say you deserve a reward.”
And with that, he rocked his hips forward once, jolting me. Oh fuck, oh fuck. I’d thought it couldn’t go any deeper but suddenly Chris was pushing even further up my vaginal channel, so full I thought his dick my pop out in my throat, my pussy gushing loads of cream as he breached me, touched parts in me I didn’t even know existed.
“Chris,” I moaned, grabbing those broad shoulders, pulling him to me. “Chris.”
And he chuckled deep in his chest, although there was a hitch to his voice, like he couldn’t quite control his body’s reaction either.
“Fuck little girl, you fucking feel so good,” he rasped. “Now I’m gonna fuck that kitty until you can’t walk.”
And he was as good as his word. Grabbing my fleshy hips in his hands, he began to rock, pushing up, then down, up, down, each thrust of his penis making me mewl, moan and gasp breathily, my forehead dropping limply against his shoulder as my boobs bobbled between us, the tips trailing against his chest.
“Oh god,” I cried, “oh god, yes, just like that.”
And the big man turned it up a notch then.
“Fuck you, honey, I need to fuck you hard now, I gotta cum in that sweet puss.” And with renewed energy, he grabbed my hips so that they were still and began fucking upwards like a piston, his dick drilling into me again and again as he grunted, his body coursing with energy, the cords in his neck tight as his jaw clenched with strain.
“Fuck,” he panted, “fuck fuck fuck, I’m gonna ….”
And it ended in a roar as he threw his head back in a shout of agony and ecstasy, that big body clenching tight beneath me as he released blast after blast of hot jizz into my pulsing channel. And oh god, the feel of a man searing me with his juice, pumping me full with his special batter, tipped me over the edge, pushed me into freefall.
“Fuuuuuck!” I screamed. “Oh gawwwd!” I squealed as my pussy went wild on his dick, clenching and spasming with electrical tingles, my entire body seizing as I milked him, desperately pumping him for more, more, more.
And the big man answered, his own body rigid with tension, spurting again and again into my hot hole, repeatedly creaming me, his shaft pulsing with heat between my swollen folds, lash after lash of creamy jism exploding like a gale force.
“Ohhh fuck,” he grunted hard. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
And I just twisted more, trying to eat it all up, my boobs heaving and jiggling as I bounced on his dick, draining my lover of everything he had to give, every last drop a precious gem that belonged inside me.
And after it was over, we collapsed, our bodies heaving, me on top of him, his dick still buried in my cunt.
“Fuck baby girl,” he grunted as a big man stroked the smooth curve of my back, trailing the S-shape of my haunches. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
And I just giggled, pushing my boobs against that massive, strong chest, feeling his dick twitch in me in response. I clenched my pussy muscles around him experimentally, and sure enough, another dick twitch came, plus a little spurt of something hot. Oh god, had I made him do that? Did I coax that last bit of cum out by pumping my kitty?
And the answer was obvious. Chris groaned, then dropped another kiss on my nose.
“Like I said, baby girl,” he rasped, holding me still against him so I had to stop wiggling. “The death of me.”
And I just giggled again. Because sure, Mr. Jones was in his forties and my dad’s boss, but you know what? We were perfect together and I was determined to show him exactly how.
CHAPTER TEN
Chris
The way Lindy gifted herself to me was amazing. Okay, maybe that’s a nice way of saying it. Because I’m a dirty fuck and there was no “gifting,” no fairy tale with a Prince Charming and happily ever after. Nope, like I said, I’m a sick fuck and I made the virgin fuck herself on me, breaking her own hymen on my dick shaft.
What the fuck would possess me to do it, make a little girl reach into her dirtiest depths and fuck herself onto a man her first time? Well, it’s partly my dirty mind. I’ve heard that virgins are the sluttiest of sluts, that girls who’ve never been touched are dying for it. And it makes sense if you think about it. If you’ve never felt a dick inside, never been breached, yeah, you’d be more than a little desperate. Fuck, I’d slit my wrists with a dull razor if I were still a virgin.
So yeah, I wanted to see exactly how horny the brunette could be, and my baby girl didn’t let me down. Lindy was a stellar pupil, learning how to do the camel toe slide in seconds, humping herself up and down my cock, dragging that clit slowly along my shaft to make herself feel good, moaning and creaming along the way.
And fuck, I almost came then, by the time she was through my dick was thoroughly coated in a layer of her cum, the white so thick, so viscous, it looked like I had a film of glue on it.
But that was only the beginning. Watching the brunette take my shaft in her pussy, watching those sweet, swollen lips part over my dickhead and then slide wetly down my pole, gripping it close, praying to never let go? Fuck, I could feel the sperm boiling in my balls, my body under iron control as I fought not to release in two seconds, fought to make it last as that tiny cunt tasted dick for the first time. And she’d wanted it so bad, needed it so desperately that yeah, she’d popped her own cherry, fucked herself on me until that hymen broke.
So yeah, I’m an obscene motherfucker, not exactly Mr. Nice Guy, but I’ve never pretended to be otherwise. I’m rude, arrogant, domineering, and women do what I say, when I want and how I want. And now that we’d breached Lindy’s barrier, it was time to set down some rules.
“Baby,” I drawled, “You warm enough?”
Because I’d taken her downstairs to get a sandwich, sex takes a lot of energy and god, the little girl didn’t know anything, she’d only just lost her v-card. So she was happily nibbling away, which made me smirk inside, the extra calories would help her put on more padding, make her extra sassy when she was in bed.
And the brunette nodded, her curvy form ensconced in my thick terry cloth bath robe.
“Yeah, Mr. Jones, I’m really toasty thanks. And thanks for making me this ham sandwich, you really have a way around the kitchen, I’d never guess.”
I grinned at her again.
“No worries, it’s partly the ingredients, they’re high-quality so it’d taste amazing no matter how you slap it together. For example, the Serrano ham is straight from Italy,” I said smoothly. “Twenty bucks a pound, and each slice as thin as paper.”
The brunette nodded before taking another bite, her eyes almost closing as she bit into the thick sourdough coated with mayo. I looked on approvingly. Oh yeah, the little girl was already learning that it was better not to argue, better not to put up a fight, everything would work out if you just listened and obeyed.
Because I wanted everything to go smoothly, and for that, there were rules.
“Lindy,” I drawled, casually seated on the chair next to her, fingering a tumbler of whisky, the amber liquid fiery through the glass. “I have a couple rules around this place that I thought I should explain.”
The girl swallowed, taking a sip of water.
“Rules? Sure, no prob, I’m a really great houseguest,” Lindy nodded before biting into the sandwich again. “I hang up all my towels, do dishes, all the good stuff,” she volunteered.
And that made me chuckle deep in my chest.
“No, not rules for houseguests, nothing like that,” I rumbled. “What I meant are rules especially for nubile young females that stay here.”
The brunette frowned suddenly.
“What do you mean?” she asked slowly. “You’ve had girls here before?”
And I cursed internally. Of course I’ve had
women at the house, I lost my virginity thirty years ago and was still enjoying the pleasures of the female sex each and every night since. But Lindy was new to all this, precious and innocent despite the fact that she’d just been breached, so I tried to be gentle, brush it under the rug a little.
“I’m forty-five honey,” I said gently. “And I’m not a virgin, so I’ve had girls over before, yeah.”
And the brunette thought for a moment.
“But are you… are you still seeing anyone now?” she stammered, flushing as she put down her sandwich.
And that one was easy to answer.
“No one but you, honey,” I said genuinely. “It’s only you.”
And she smiled hesitantly then, biting her lip.
“Good, I’m glad Mr. Jones,” she said quietly, “Because I’m not sure ….” Her voice trailed off.
“Not sure exactly how you’d feel if I were seeing other women?” I finished.
And she nodded silently, her eyes wide and fixed on mine, her lips trembling as emotions crossed her face, a rush of elation, confusion, indecision, the mix so new to her that it was impossible to put words to.
But I merely took her face between my big palms and dropped a kiss on her lips before looking deep into those warm pools of caramel.
“Honey,” I rasped, imbuing my gaze with genuineness, with truth. “So long as you’re with me, I won’t be with anyone, I promise. It’s just you.”
And the girl grew rosy again, a smile breaking out and wreathing her lips, the indecision falling away.
“Oh good,” she whispered, “Thank you, Chris.”
And my heart swelled with what, I’m not sure. The way she trusted me? The way I felt like I had her heart in my hands, her sweetly giving nature, that warm body available and pliant in my arms? But I shook my head. This was a ten day thing, nothing more, so there was no long-term planning, no serious investment.
But something in my heart, my brain, knew I was lying to myself, knew that this was starting to be more, a kernel of emotion blossoming, taking root. I shook it off, cursing myself internally. This wasn’t the time to have second doubts because I was just about to lay down the rules, establish myself as the man of the house.
Beg Me: Sold to My Dad's Boss Page 6
