by Naomi West
“Booster …” She backs her pretty ass up against my hand, and I ease another finger into her.
“Yes?” I ask. I don’t remove my fingers from her. In, out, an easy rhythm that has her breath starting to come out in pants and a little whine in her throat.
“We should … go inside … dinner …”
I chuckle, and withdraw my fingers.
“If you insist.”
I make a show of cleaning my fingers off, sliding them into my mouth and sucking the juices of her pussy off the digits. She watches with wide eyes and flushed skin. I give her another grin and make my way up her porch.
She’s quick to follow, snapping out of the stupor and almost eager to get inside—so much so that she fumbles with her keys. I like this … I like how badly she wants me and how easy it is to make her undone just by having my fingers in her.
What will she be like when I fuck her? Just as pliable?
I step inside after her. it’s the first time that I’ve been inside her house, and it suits her. I look around briefly—there’s books and bookshelves everywhere.
You can tell Lena lives here.
But I don’t keep my attention on the surroundings for long. I’ll pay attention when it matters. Right now, Lena’s shrugging off her jacket and looking at me like she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be doing. Dinner, according to her little reminder to me when I was playing outside, but dinner’s not on my mind.
I pull Lena toward me, and she doesn’t protest. When I kiss her, her lips part almost submissively, willingly, and I growl against her mouth.
“I don’t want dinner,” I say.
“Neither do I.”
That’s damn good, because I’m not waiting around for another interruption. I had every intention, the night she finally agreed, to take my time with her and make her addicted to my touch before I fucked her. I’ve already done that—I’m not wasting my time with foreplay, not for round one, at least.
I kiss her, pushing her back. I spot a table, I assume in the dining room. I don’t really care about the layout of her house right now. With a bite to her lip, I turn her around, pressing her face down to the wood. She moans at how roughly I shove her down, and something about that makes my cock ache even harder.
What a perfect woman. Innocent when she needs to be and a little slut when I want her to be.
I shove her skirt up over her ass, exposing the fullness of it to me and those gorgeous thighs I had my face buried in a week ago. Her panties are little lacy things, and I grip them, ripping them off easily.
She’s wet, dripping for me already, swollen lips and pretty bud.
“Touch yourself,” I tell her, already working at the button and zipper of my jeans. “Show me how bad you want me to fuck that little cunt of yours.”
A flush blooms over her skin—so she can blush everywhere, and not just her face, huh? I grin as I see the color rise over her ass, and even more so as she obeys my order perfectly, sliding her fingers into herself with a jolt and a little whine.
“Booster …” She works her fingers in and out of herself, getting them wet with her pleasure. I palm myself, easing some of the tension before I nudge the head of my cock against her hole.
With a groan, a deep, satisfied groan, I push in while her fingers are still inside. She gasps, whines, and goes to remove her fingers.
“Don’t,” I tell her. “Don’t I feel good?”
She nods, whining some more, and I grip her hips.
“Keep them in there while I fuck you. Enjoy how full you are. ’cause, doll, I’m gonna enjoy how tight your little pussy is.”
She gives another whine, caught off guard and turned on by my words. Her hips in hand, I slide all the way inside her.
Her pussy constricts around my cock, like it’s hungry and needy to have me in her. Lena lets out a lout cry, not uncomfortable, but pleasured, like she’s never had cock like mine before—and, well, she hasn’t, that’s for damn sure.
I take her hard, riding her from behind with my hands on her hips. This is what I’ve been waiting for—the chance to plunge myself inside her and work her for all she’s worth so she can give me what I want.
“You feel so good … fuck …”
And she does. She fits me like a glove, like her body was made for mine and mine alone, and it makes my cock pulse inside her, spurting a little precum in a show of what’s to come inside her tight hole. I’ve fucked a lot of women in my day … but none of them take me like Lena.
She bucks back against me, enjoying every hard thrust and deep shove that I give her. It’s like she wants this as much as I do—to make me cum and breed her, and it’s so fucking hot, I know that round one isn’t going to last long.
And that’s fine.
That’s what rounds two and three are for.
She tightens around me, and I know that she’s not going to last long either, and I lay myself over her, latching my teeth into her neck. She cries out, arching against me—I’m pleasantly surprised to feel her pussy literally clench and a flood of pleasure flow out from around my cock.
Holy shit. Girl came from that. Noted.
I grin with her neck in my mouth, and I take that as invitation to do the same. The closer I get, the less rhythmic my thrusts are, but that’s all right. In, out, hard, unrelenting, until it’s my cock pulsing hard and my balls drawing up—
I snap into her, flush, spilling into her womanhood, and I groan hard. There’s so much it leaks out around my cock, spilling down her thighs. I rock my hips, milking myself within her, pushing my cum deep into her willing body. When there’s nothing left, I stay inside her, enjoying the warm, tight wrap of her pussy about my cock.
She pants below me, and I love the way her body shakes, how there’s a total, unequivocal wrack of pleasure that knocks through her. It draws a lot of satisfaction out of me, and I nibble her neck some more before kissing it.
Pulling out of her isn’t a thing that I want, but I want her in a bed and on her back, legs around me, and her nails in me.
Simple needs, really.
I’m still hard when I slide out. I’m not going to go down anytime soon, and that’s a guarantee that I’m glad to give Lena, if I’m being honest. She whines at her emptiness, at the air that hits her warmth.
“Booster—”
“Bedroom,” I tell her. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Chapter Eleven
Lena
I’ve never had sex like I’ve had sex with Booster.
He’s so … rough. Commanding. Alpha.
And he actually makes me feel good while he’s doing it. I’ve never cum so fast from a man taking me like that, and I don’t think I ever will if I ever sleep with another. I have a feeling in the pit of my gut right beside where my pleasure pools that that won’t be the case.
Booster has me hooked. He has my body, I’ll have his child. We’re linked like that now.
He pulls out of me, and I’m so empty I could cry. I want him inside me again, riding me like a bull. There’s a delicious ache between my thighs that has them shaking as Booster stands me up. The sheer amount of cum he’s spilled in me is enough to have it running down my thighs and slicking up my flesh.
Bedroom. I’m not done with you yet.
For that, I’m grateful. I don’t want it only once. I doubt that twice is going to be enough for me. What I do know is that he keeps a hold of me while I lead him to my bedroom. I definitely need it. I don’t think I’d be able to walk on my own.
The feeling is both astounding and exhilarating.
We get to my room, and he pulls me in to kiss him again. His cock is hard and slides against my shirt, over my belly, staining my clothes with the evidence of our coupling. He practically drinks from my mouth and I moan against him, limp and weak and needy.
I’ve never been so, so needy.
Booster walks me back until my legs hit the bed. He lays me back and stares down at me.
My skirt’s ridden up, my
lower half still exposed to him. His eyes roam over my thighs and I see how hungrily he looks at me. With my lip bitten, I spread my legs for him, leaving myself open and vulnerable. My hand … I trail it down, down to play in the mess that we’ve left of my womanhood. I arch when my fingers brush against my clit; it’s so swollen and sensitive, I bet I could cum just having him rub his thumb along it.
“Booster …”
He grins, but there’s something soft about the way he does so. He comes to me, sliding his hands under so he can tug my skirt completely off. From there, it’s the buttons of my blouse. He undoes them, one by one, until the material falls away from my body and I’m left with my bra exposed.
Here, he bites his lips, and I continue to play my fingers between my slick, wet lips, sighing at the continued stimulation. He tugs my bra down, making the straps slide down my shoulders and freeing my flesh.
“God, you’re gorgeous.”
I blush like I have a thousand times today, but I say nothing. I know that my voice will be shaky, and I don’t want to give away just how badly that affects me. Instead, I watch him with bated breath as he undresses himself, keeping his hungry eyes on my form as I pleasure myself for him. When he’s bare, I think he’ll go back to fucking me, but he’s taking his time now.
I suppose we have a lot of that, don’t we?
He leans over me, taking one of my breasts into his mouth. I sigh and arch against his teeth—that roughness coming back. I gasp as he suckles at it, pulling the nipple to perk between his lip. I roll my body against his and revel in the feeling of bare skin sliding against bare skin.
“Oh … Booster …”
He laves and toys with my nipple, and rocks his body against mine. His cock ruts between the lips of my sex, though he doesn’t slide in. Oddly enough, it heightens the sensation, and rock and roll my hips with his movements.
“Pretty little doll,” he mutters against my breast, moving to the other. “All mine.”
His … yes … His and only his because I can’t imagine having another man go at me like he does. Rough. Then this … slow progression that lights a fire in my belly.
“Booster, please. I’m going crazy …”
He stays suckled at my chest a little longer, and then blessedly moves up to my collarbones, my neck. As he does, he drags my hands away from my sex, leaving me untouched and aching for release.
He finishes undressing me, sliding my shirt off and away along with my bra. Finally, we’re both completely bare. I revel in it, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to draw him closer to me. Hungry, I kiss him, moaning against his mouth.
“Claim me again,” I beg him. “I need you inside me.”
Booster presses his mouth to mine, drowning out my moan as he sinks into me once more. An easy push, and I arch up from the bed to have him fill me again. In this position, I can wrap my legs around him, have my nails in his back, and I cling to him tightly as he starts me out on easy, fluid thrusts that gain momentum and force as he goes.
This is … incredible. I pant against his lips and when I’m moaning too much to kiss him properly anymore, I put my face in his neck and groan. My bed rocks against my wall, knocking into it hard, and I hope that it leaves a dent just so I have the memory of this every time I come in my room. It’s a terrible, naughty thought … But I don’t regret having it.
“Fuck, Lena. How’re you still so tight?”
I flush at his praises as I have all night. I love how gruff he is when he tells me how good I am, how amazing I feel. I hope that it makes him want to take me over and over again, with wild abandon.
“Ah—Booster … don’t stop …”
The second orgasm doesn’t come quickly, but it does come hard with Booster drilling steadily into me. And then it’s another … and Booster follows …
We spend the night like that. He fucks me, rolling his cock into me over and over and cumming so much I lose count. No man I’ve known has ever gone as long or as many times as he does, but by the time we’re finished, my legs are jelly, and I know that I’m too weak to even bathe properly. Not like I want to.
I lie beside him, sweat- and cum-covered, and finally—finally—tuckered out and too sore to continue on. Booster seems to be in the same state.
My thighs … God … They run wet with cum and if I’m not pregnant yet, then I know I have no issue with going and letting him have me like that every night until I am.
Or while I am; they say pregnant sex is amazing.
Booster has his arm under my head, and I curl my body into his. I worry for a moment that he’ll pull away—now that he’s gotten what he wants, in part. We’re one step closer to me carrying his child. Perhaps all the intimacy up until this point was just buttering me up for sex—
He wraps around me, drawing me close. I smile as a satisfied sound leaves him, and I look up to see that he’s drifting off to sleep. It’s a surprisingly cute image; this big, tough man, that’s just spent the better part of my night fucking me into a cum-filled mess, is like a child after a day of too hard play.
My smile deepens.
A child …
We can only hope.
The next morning, I wake up before Booster. I slept like a rock, and now I’m wide awake, and ready to start my day. There’s something about really, really good sex that makes a woman ready to conquer the world, and I feel like I can as I slide from my bed.
Oh, there’s an ache. There’s a deep-reaching ache, and it reminds me how deeply Booster has pushed inside me and spilled his seed. The thought makes me giddy, like a schoolgirl, almost, and I decide that for the sake of hygiene, I’ll take a shower, and then I’ll get my house in order.
Maybe I’ll make breakfast. Call my adoptive mother. Maybe I’ll go for a walk.
There’s a pep in my step that wouldn’t otherwise be there, waking on a weekend. I have homework to grade, and chores to do—things that aren’t fun, but I can’t find a reason to not be happy or be in a good mood.
I turn on some music while I work. I’m in that good of a mood. All I can think about is the way that Booster had taken me the night before, and how many more times he’ll take me. I want it every night like that I want—
Booster. That’s what I want.
The thought is only a little sobering, as I know that Booster likely won’t want anything permanent with me. But if we’re having a baby together, won’t there be some … co-parenting?
Hm.
I feel like a teenager, having made the choice to screw around before actually thinking about the consequences of my actions. I worry my lip between my teeth.
What if Booster wants nothing to do with me after? He can’t just take the baby from me, right? It’s not like a donor situation. This is my child.
This turn of thought makes me pensive as I continue to clean, and I’m in deep thought by the time Booster comes down.
“Someone’s way too perky for mornings,” he grumbles. He’s definitely not a natural-born morning person, and the vison of him up at this hour when I know he’s not used to it would be amusing if I didn’t have something serious that I wanted to talk to him about.
Funny how responsibilities ruin fun.
As soon as he hits the bottom of the stairs, I spring on him.
“We need to talk,” I tell him. He blinks at me, almost as if he’s delirious. but mostly because it’s too early for him and he’s not used to serious conversations happening.
“Um… Right. What about?”
I nod him into my living room, where we sit on the couch. He groans a little, stiff, but I force my thoughts to not wander to why he’s stiff in the first place. That’s not what this conversation is about.
“I wanted to ask … If I get pregnant … how much of a role am I going to have in this baby’s life?” I cut right to the chase. “Will I have it and you just take it and leave? Will I help raise it? What you—”
“Whoa, whoa. Slow down.” He blinks and scrubs his hands down his face, I think trying
to wake himself up a little more for the conversation at hand. “What makes you think you’re not going to be in this baby’s life? I want a kid; a kid needs a mother. It’s why I chose you, a teacher, a good woman, to be the mother of my child. If I just wanted some dumb surrogate, I could have fucked a baby into a club girl years ago.”
Okay. At least he’s straightforward.
“Right. Okay.”
“Were you actually worried that you wouldn’t be a mother?”
