by Celia Crown
“It’s okay,” I coo, fanning my hot breath over her hard clit and closing around it through a harsh suck.
She soaks my fingers; her pulsing walls gets hotter as she comes. The slick allows me to quicken my pace and draw out her orgasm to leave her hypersensitive and shuddering. She tries to close her legs, but my shoulders are in the way, leaving her unable to get away from the writhing pleasure that keeps her whimpering.
“Please, I-I want you,” she mewls, voice breaking as she paws at my arm above her stomach.
I know exactly what she wants; my cock has been suffering under my weight as I keep my shaft trapped with the bed. Normally, I would have an iron-clad patience and steel will, but that goes out the window with one look at her flushed body and one taste of her sweet cunt.
Kneeling over her trembling body, I tug her thighs over my waist until the bulbous head taps against her wet slit.
I lean over and kiss her, letting her squeak at the taste of her juices on my tongue.
“I’ll take care of you,” I promise her and distracting her easily.
She holds her breath, bracing herself as her arms loop around my neck for support. With one hand, I guide my cock while the other rubs her side, groping the fleshiness and I sink my fingers down at the plushness.
Her body is beautiful, soft and curvaceous with plenty to grab onto while I fuck her later. She told me about her insecurities for being bigger than other women, and I honestly thought her doubts are clouded by the media’s representation of what it means to be desirable.
I didn’t let her stay in her negative space for a second longer when she told me; those trivial thoughts are unnecessary when she’s with me. I only have eyes for her; any other women are nonexistent to me.
“Don’t tense up, Rebecca,” I tell her, “Trust me.”
She whispers, “I do trust you.”
Rebecca nods her consent, inhaling shakily for me to continue as I keep my cockhead on her parted slit. Her moan echoes in my ear as I run the tip of my cock along her folds to her clit and going back down between her folds to aligning it with her hole.
I go slow, inching the first inch inside and keep going until the tip is in. It’s tight and hot. Her cunt struggles to take more, but she is brave when her body gradually softens.
“It hurts,” she winces, only able to take half my thick shaft before it’s too much for her.
I pull out, letting her sigh while apologetically frowning.
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca murmurs, her glassy eyes lowering.
I hush her, lacing our fingers together and holding them beside her head.
“Never apologize for hurting,” I tell her, kissing her quivering lips chastely.
She nods obediently.
“Such a sweet girl,” I praise her.
She giggles shyly, smiling despite the previous pain I caused her.
“Can we try again?” she asks.
I rasp, “Yes, only if you’re ready.”
“Ready,” she confirms with a solid nod.
“Alright.”
I wrap an arm around her waist, flipping us over so she straddles me while balancing herself on my chest. Her wild red hair swings over her shoulder as her beautiful tits call for my hands. I let them spill over my grasp as I palm them greedily.
I tweak her nipples, tugging on them to make her shudder. She grinds her hips down, rocking her pussy over my cock as her essence smears on the underside of my shaft.
“I want you to set the pace; you can stop any time.”
Her doe-eyes are conflicted, “I don’t know how…”
“You do,” I say, stilling her hips when the tip knocks on her clit.
“I’ll try,” she says back with uncertainty.
I know she can. She’s a smart girl with the ability to adapt. Over the course of days and weeks, I have seen her deal with jealous glares from women. She walks beside me with her head held up high with an air of confidence that shines brighter than her fiery, red hair. She can conquer this fear; Rebecca is made to give my cock a home of tightness and warmth.
She carefully gets onto her knees. I close my hands around the dip of her waist to help her in case she falls. Hovering over my throbbing shaft, she grasps it and gasps at a strong pulse that has her flexing her fingers.
This girl has no idea what she’s doing to me, and I’m holding onto the last straw of my sanity as a decent human being.
If I’m not careful, I might unleash the barbarian reserved for beat-downs.
When she’s ready, she slides down as smoothly as she can. It’s a difficult thing to do with her thighs straining, face scrunching up in pain, and nails raking down my chest to leave a trail of burning red.
Being engulfed in her heat again takes away the air in my lungs. I groan in a low voice urging her to go on. Her ass lands on my thighs, her fluttery pussy coiling curiously around my thick length. Her virgin barrier tears apart; droplets of tears roll down her face as I comfort her the best I can. My hands run up and down her spine, calming her hiccups while she’s shaking through her tears.
“It’s okay,” I say, not daring to move a muscle below my hips. “You’re fine, such a good girl for me.”
She nods, sniffing with a swallow. “Yeah, a good girl.”
“That’s right, my good girl.”
I grab her hand and press her fingers into her clit, murmuring softly to her while she starts to breathe evenly.
“Touch yourself; it’ll feel better.”
She obeys despite being hesitant to do anything to prolong the pain, but she starts small circles on her little button.
Her eyes widen in pleasure, her cunt flutters around me, and I couldn’t hold back a short thrust of my hips. She squeaks quietly, rubbing her clit faster as she rolls her ass to drag my cock in her walls.
Not yet, I tell myself through the rest of my mental restraint.
“Bounce a little, Rebecca. Let me feel your tight little pussy.”
Her cheeks warm even more and she follows my order, lifting her ass up and dropping it down in testing thrusts. She winces as she slowly lets her walls form the shape of my shaft.
“That’s it,” I goad after her nails scratch my chest to form a fist.
My eyes have black spots forming at the corner of my vision. I have never felt anything this impossibly tight around my cock, and it’s like being trapped between heaven and hell. It’s too good to be true. My angel is here and using me as her personal toy, and I’m taking it with the tortuous need to stay still until she gives me permission to have her.
“You’re so big,” she cries wantonly.
A surge of pride fills my chest. My composure cracks a little through the quick thrusts that throw her higher so she drops down on my cock quicker.
The sinful slapping sound of her ass coming down on my lap is noisy, but it doesn’t drown out her moans when my composure snaps. It’s a miracle that I lasted this long without taking her with such desperation that will break this bed.
I don’t think she would mind a little roughness.
“Use me, Rebecca, fuck your little cunt on my big cock.”
She moans loudly, bracing her hands on my chest to roll her hips in uncoordinated moves. Juices soil my cock as the bareness of my cock doesn’t bother her. A condom gives me a bitter taste because it would mean that I can never have her purely to myself. It’s a barrier that keeps us apart, and I’d be damned if I let that get in the way of our bonding time.
“O-oh god!” she bounces a little faster, sliding up and down so sexily that my stomach coils into a knot.
I look away from her swaying tits and onto the ceiling, focusing on the whiteness to hold back from coming like a fucking amateur.
“D-Derek?” there’s fear in her voice.
I snap my eyes back down to her. Her big, brown eyes are glazed over with heavy pleasure and doubt is etched onto her pouting lips.
“Am I doing good?”
Taking over her wet fingers, I roll my thumb ove
r her swollen clit, and she bucks wildly. I want her to come again, I want to know with one hundred percent certainty that she is ready for a fuck that’ll be a memory she won't forget.
“More than good, Rebecca.” I scrape her clit, wiggling my finger over the hard button to feel her hips falter their speed.
“Don’t stop now, you want to come right?”
She nods, thick lashes battling to let her eyes stay open. Her tempo picks up, dragging my veiny girth through her tight slit. A new fire of determination lights up her eyes, as she uses my cock as I have told her to.
Her shyness is long gone, replaced with this awareness of a sex kitten in need of milking my cock. Her hold seizes close around the base of my cock, trapping me in her hot cunt to feel every ripple of her orgasm tearing through her frail body.
I would feel concern over her if she isn’t screaming and gyrating her hips down to bring her orgasm to another level.
Every breath she draws is jerky, “More.”
My grey eyes darken at her command, and I happily oblige.
I throw her on the bed, hair fanning over the dark sheets, and I shove my big cock back into her. rearing back to slam back with so much power that has her moving up the bed. I yank her back, grinding my pelvis to her clit and crushing the little button under my weight. She squeals, throwing her arms around my waist and her juicy cunt throbs.
I start fucking her with a sick, squelching sound every time my shaft sinks home. It’s filthy obscene, and I live to hear the sound of her voice cracking with my name.
“Fuck,” a guttural sneer rings out, pounding deep into her with her cum coating the hammering length.
This girl tests my strength, tests my will to not break her in half with those big teary eyes and pouting lips. She is lucky that I’m a lot older and more mature than those frat boys in her school; I am nothing like them, and I sure as hell don’t need to show off to get a woman.
I only need Rebecca.
The thought of those impulsive boys makes my blood boil. I can see the way some of them look at her as if she is a piece of meat. They will never a chance to taste her sweet pussy, and they won't ever get their dick in this heavenly, tight cunt that banishes my soul from being complete without her.
“You’re so tight,” I said, her walls clench at my words. “Perfect for my cock, I’m going to ruin you and make you cry.”
I brace a hand over her head and fix my position to pummel her dripping slit, tearing her walls open with a pace that she’s unfamiliar with and compelling her slit to accommodate the new stretch.
She screams, sobbing over the loud squishes of juices.
“I’m going to cum,” I warn her, glaring down at her disoriented eyes. “When I do, you will take it in your pussy. I will not tolerate anything to go to waste; you deserve it after all your hard work.”
I croon with sick pleasure, “Don’t you think so? You want me to fill you up, feel my cum slide out of your pussy? Feel how lose you have become after being fucked with my big cock?”
My words earn me a high-pitched squeal and a frantic nod. I deliberately pinch her clit between my fingers and smear her cum around to coarsely thrum the button.
“I—I…” articulating words is not the most pressing matter as she grinds with my hammering cock, searching for the pleasure that I’m bringing her to.
It doesn’t take much to take another orgasm from her, too soon and too strong for her little body to contain the quivering that throws her around my bed with thrashes too wild.
My cock swells up, splitting her tiny slit farther apart and spilling hot cum inside her throbbing muscles. It paints viscous creaminess, her puffy folds and tight clit are red while my cum is too much for her small cunt to handle, seeping through any space even when she’s snuggly plugged up.
“Again?” she murmurs bashfully.
A grin plays on my lips.
Chapter Seven
Rebecca
It’s one week later that I came to a blinding realization.
Looking back, being able to gain knowledge through this amazing school has taught me new perspectives on life that would come in handy for me to step into the real world.
I want to be able to stand tall and see the accomplishment of all my hard work and be the girl that worked her ass off to get this diploma.
Having unable to hear back from my parents if they could come to my ceremony, I was disappointed. No child would be able to be alright after spilling time and effort into a diploma to not have anyone to celebrate it with.
That was fine.
I have Moira and her overly eccentric family. They are the kindest people I have ever met, always trying to include me in their family time and holidays. I try not to overstep my boundaries, but they often don’t take no for an answer. I know they mean well because my parents were against me going to an out-of-state college, and they were so adamant that they never talked to me again.
My calls went unanswered.
It’s karma for being an unappreciative child.
Derek never called again after the morning he dropped me back to the dorm.
It’s karma for being blinded by love.
It’s unusual for him to not call at least twice a day, but I thought some important business had come up. He must have been swamped with work. I shouldn’t be surprised as he does collect money for a living and from the amount of time he spends with me, I assume he was lagging behind on work.
Day one went by with no calls from him, but I got the courage to call him. He didn’t pick up, leaving me on voicemail. I didn’t leave a message I simply hung up with a slight twinge of disappointment.
I began to pack my things from the dorm; clothes going into the suitcase in a neat fashion, shoes covered in plastic bags from the grocery store to prevent clothes from being dirtied, and bath products safely sealed in Ziploc bags.
Moira had too many clothes for one suitcase, so I offered her room in mine; her perfume bottles had to be carried in separate containers as not to break the glasses.
We couldn’t finish packing in one day, but the university notice came right after exams that we are to clear out by the end of the week.
In a mess of clothes, bags, and books, we talked about the most difficult exam problem we came across.
Day two and three were lonely. I was too used to having his presence be a constant reminder that I love him. Moira thinks I’m overreacting, thinking too much into the negativities. She took me out shopping for the best graduation dress and danced in heels, ate brunch, and got me tipsy for the night.
Moira and I were laughing at cat videos, discussing if our first apartment would allow pets. Then we remembered that she was allergic to cats and opted for a fake plant since neither of us could keep anything alive for long.
It was 2:35 in the morning when I called again.
Going to voicemail was heartbreaking.
I left him a message, “I-I… is something wrong? Call me back, please?”
He never called back.
On day four, I stayed with Moira’s family, and we talked about trivial things Such as Her makeup style and the type of hairstyle she wanted for her big day while her mother would chime in with her opinion.
We had a dinner full of laughter and many stories of Moira’s childhood. We had mashed potatoes, fried chicken, and a big bowl of coleslaw. Moira complained that she needed to look her best for her big day, and fried chicken was definitely not on her diet plan.
Then, bedtime came, and I thought of him again. She noticed the silence I carried when we were in her room and smooshed my face into her breasts.
We struggled; Moira wanted to comfort me and be the bests of a friend she could be while all I wanted was to breathe because it was hard when she allowed her boobs to become a deadly weapon.
I stayed in her arms when I slept, trying to assure myself that my phone would ring with his melody.
It didn’t ring, and I stayed with a heavy heart.
I must have done
something wrong.
Day five, I woke up to a maple-syrup muffin in my face when Moira’s mother came to wake us up. We were tangled in a fashion that reminded me of an octopus, our legs and arms were tightly winded around each other.
Our morning breath wasn’t the only gross thing we woke up to; we were sweating too because we never closed the window to her second-story window and the Florida heat was unforgivable.
I accidentally kicked her in the shin and she fell off the bed, quick reflexes came from the need to have fresh air instead of moist stink from her mouth. It should have been me on the floor because I was the gust, but I knocked the owner of the bed down.
We had a laugh, then Moira stuffed her mouth with the muffin her mother made. I called her an animal; normal people should have brushed their teeth before eating.
It was how I grew up; every family is different, but it just didn’t sit right with me.
When she got ready in the bathroom, I decided to call Derek again and take a chance that he would pick up.
It was foolish of me to think otherwise.
It went to voicemail again, and I said what was on my mind, “My graduation is on Saturday at ten in the morning, and I want you to come… please.”
Moira and I took the day to explore her hometown. The most memorable thing about Florida was that anyone could book a tour through the Everglades. It was a place filled with alligators and people actually pay to have the chance of encountering an animal that could snap their spine in half for fun.
What did Moira do?
She jumped into the trend and booked two tickets of an airboat tour. She was so happy that I didn’t have the heart to tell her that being in alligator and bacteria-infested waters is the last thing I want to do before graduation, especially when the risk of being eaten alive significantly increases there.
That was how we ended up at the glades, fearing for my life, and screaming at the top of my lungs when I saw eyes peeking out of the murky waters. Moira thought I was hallucinating, but then she saw it herself and her shriek was louder than the airboat engine with other tourists laughing at us.
Overall, it was a great time. We had a lot of fun, just the two of us, hand in hand conquering the tourist spots after the airboat tour.
