“I do.” Then he offers me something, something that was in his hand before but I didn’t see it. “Here.”
I see it now. A bag of lollipops. I take it from his hand. “You bought me lollipops?”
He nods again but this one is tighter than before, kinda bashful. “You were running low.”
I hug it to my chest, hug it and squeeze it before tearing the pack open and fishing one out. I give it a long suck before saying, “Is this your way of saying that you missed me too?”
He watches me swirl the candy in my mouth. “No.”
I frown, taking the lollipop out. “No?”
Then he closes the last inch between us and grabs me at the waist. He squeezes all the air out of me as he digs his fingers in, as if making sure that I’m really alive and he can finally touch me.
Lifting me up, he puts me on his boots and growls, “This is.”
By this, he means his kiss.
Because he’s kissing me now.
I let go of all the lollipops and the bag falls to the ground. But it’s okay. I’ll pick it up later. Right now, I need to kiss him back.
I wind my arms around him and do just that. I kiss him back while he kisses my candy-coated mouth before boosting me up with a hand on my ass, and carrying me up to the house while I hang onto him like a spider monkey.
A few seconds later, he breaks the kiss and I find myself on his bed again.
I lean up on my elbows and he bends down at the waist to get closer to my half-lying form. I watch with panting breaths when his hands come to the buttons of his shirt that I’m wearing.
Oh yeah, I’m still wearing it.
In fact, I took a shower and put it back on so I could smell him. I could feel the lingering warmth of his body on mine.
And now, he has his hands on it and I know what he’s going to do before he even does it.
I feel it with every banging beat of my heart.
He’s going to tear it off. It’s in his eyes, his blazing, intense eyes, and he does.
He fists the fabric and pulls. He pulls and pulls until the veins on his wrists stand taut and his face goes tight with the force. So much force that I reach up and caress his harshly hinged jaw.
As soon as I do it, the shirt gives and the buttons pop out.
My spine arches at that, thrusting my breasts out.
He has to look at them then. He has to stare at my jiggling tits as he does the same with the rest of the buttons, tearing his own shirt open.
God, he’s such a bad man, isn’t he?
Once he’s done, he spreads the flaps apart, exposing me to his eyes. Exposing my tiny, blushing body that he can’t stop staring at.
Then he bends even further down and takes a nipple in his mouth, giving it a long suck like I gave my lollipop, making me arch up some more and fist the sheets.
He doesn’t stop with the suck though. He takes it in his rough hand, gropes it and plumps it up, sticking the nipple in his mouth even more.
As if he loves this, this rough, delicious treatment of my breast, he groans. He grunts and rubs his beard over the tender flesh.
“Graham,” I gasp.
“Fucking love your tits, baby. Love how they bounce for me.”
And he proves it. He proves how much he loves it by making them bounce. By kneading them in his big hands and making them jiggle, rubbing the nipples with his open palm, making me lose all my sense and thoughts.
He even grabs me around my waist and tugs me forward on the bed, so they jiggle some more. They dance and shake for him, my tits.
By the time he’s done playing with them, I’m writhing on the bed. My panties are all drenched and sticky and he comes back up to my mouth for another kiss.
This one’s short though.
He ends it quickly, like he’s got other plans for me, and moves away.
I sit there, half-slumped and completely aroused and panting. Like last night, he goes for his shirt in an impatient way. He undoes a few buttons and reaches back to snag it off his body in one go, baring his brawny chest and rumpling up his gorgeous hair.
Gosh, he needs a haircut, my Strawberry Man. But I’m not going to tell him that. Because he looks sexy as fuck.
He leaves his jeans on when he gets on the bed and I have to say I’m a little disappointed. But he makes up for it by showing off his huge hard-on inside his pants.
It’s tenting his jeans, actually, pressing against the zipper. I can even imagine it – the angry, glorious crown of it, pushing against the confines of his pants, maybe leaking pre-cum. Leaking it so much that he’ll get a wet, dark spot there.
Oh God, I so want that.
I want that wet spot on his jeans. I want that as much as I want him to take it out, his big, bad cock, and fuck me with it.
My man has the same thought, I think. Because all the while I was staring at his cock, he’s been staring at my panty-covered pussy, his face all tight and clenched up. Even though I’m covered like him, I bet he can see the same thing as me.
He can see how swollen my pussy is and how my lips press against the fabric. How he can make out my seam and how there’s a giant wet spot there.
With his chin still dipped, he lifts his eyes up to me. He puts a finger on my right knee, moving it in circles, making my skin break out in goosebumps.
“Does it hurt?” he rasps, and I know he’s asking about my pussy.
I flex my inner muscles and shake my head. “No.”
“No?”
He goes on and on with his light circles and I wiggle my hips. “No. You took care of it last night, anyway.”
He hums, like he’s thinking about it right now, picturing caring for her, my pussy.
Before going to sleep last night and before he got up to work on the roses, he cared for me. He brought in a hot, wet towel and pressed it against my core, taking away all the soreness. Turns out I did bleed, but only a little. There was a smudge of it on my thighs and at the base of his cock and he cleaned that spot up too.
He looked a little horrified at that but I distracted him by kissing all over his beard and his chest.
I notice the moment he gets back to the present and out of last night’s memory. His finger stops making circles and instead moves up my thigh. It moves and slides up and up until his hand is a band around my upper thigh.
His thumb is so long and big that it grazes the edge of my panties, the curved edge of my pussy, making me jerk.
“Is she hungry?” he asks, making circles with his thumb there now, touching me over the sticky fabric.
“Uh-huh.”
“She wants something?”
I nod enthusiastically, spreading my legs like a whore and inching close to him. Inching toward his cock.
A slow lopsided smile spreads through his lips and he comes down to kiss me. A soft, soft, feathery kiss made a little sting-y when he rubs his beard on my cheek.
It makes me moan, his affectionate, erotic gesture, and I reach up to play with his beard, my favorite thing in the whole world.
“I’ll feed her, then. I’ll take care of her like I did last night.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Moving away, he takes my panties off. They get stuck in my sneakers that I’m still wearing but he maneuvers them and takes them off easily. He doesn’t let me take off my sneakers though.
He tells me to keep them on with a shake of his head and this shiny glint in his eyes that pulses through my bared core.
Now, he can see it all.
His eyes drop to my core and he takes me in. He takes in my puffy pussy. I take her in too. She’s all colored with arousal, deep pink, almost red, and I get so horny from that, so fucking horny and slutty that I reach down and rub my folds.
I’m sprawled on the bed, still wearing his shirt and sneakers, my knees folded up now, and I’m rubbing my sloppy cunt in front of him, waiting and dying and writhing in lust.
“Feed her, M
r. Edwards,” I whisper, peeking at him through my eyelashes.
His features are dark and harsh with arousal but even so, he shakes his head at me. He chuckles out a rusty bark of a laugh before knocking the breath out of me by his next words.
“So you like lollipops, huh,” he rumbles, producing the one I was sucking on.
I don’t even know when he got it and where he even had it up until now, but I really don’t care.
I can’t care.
Because as soon as he said it and made me almost mindless, he popped it in his mouth.
Oh God, he has my lollipop in his mouth, that magenta-colored candy that he closes his lips around and takes a long, slow suck of, his cheeks hollowing out.
I have to open my mouth to drag in a breath because holy shit, he looks so sexy doing that. He looks so sexy and masculine while sucking on my candy and I can’t even think coherently.
Then he pops it out, his eyes dark with desire and something else, something delicious and dangerous and I have to ask, “W-what are you going to do?”
“Give her a treat,” he says in a low-pitched voice.
So low-pitched that I go boneless. More boneless and crazy than before.
“Treat?”
Instead of answering me with words, he grabs my thighs again and pulls me down on the bed. I’ve been propped up on my elbows up until now but he makes me lie on my back. Then, he comes down at me, his bulk becoming my sky, putting a hand by the side of my head.
Looking me in the eyes, he says, “Yeah, a treat.”
And then, he gives it.
He gives it in a way that makes me clutch the sheets and jerk up on the bed. It makes me arch up and shake my tits.
Because he just slapped my clit with my lollipop.
“I’m going to give her something to eat,” he rumbles, tapping the candy over my clit again, and I almost go to pieces.
I almost break apart at the shameless thing he’s doing.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If I gave your cunt something to eat?”
He’s asking me?
How can he ask me anything when he’s stealing my ability to think, let alone talk? All I do is make some babbling noises as he circles my tight clit, swirls the candy through my drenched folds like I swirl it with my tongue.
“Answer me, Violet. Would you like that? Do you want me to feed your cunt, baby?”
I fist and pull at the sheet so tightly that it snaps out of my hold and I have to go and clutch his sides and dig my nails into his hot flesh.
“Yes,” I answer him on a whimper, my eyes blinking and fluttering closed.
“Yeah? You sure?”
His cajoling, teasing tone makes me rub my sneakers up and down the bed, makes me so much more restless and heavy and empty and all the things at the same time.
“Yeah. Yes, I want… I want it.”
“Okay. I’ll give her something to eat. I’ll give her your candy,” he whispers, his face saturated with lust before he gives it to her.
He gives my candy to my cunt.
He sticks my lollipop, the one I’ve been sucking on, the one candy that I’ve loved as long as I can remember, inside my pussy and everything splinters.
Everything explodes in my stomach. All the sensations and currents and sparks.
I scream.
I think.
I’m not sure. I may also have drawn blood from his skin with the way I’m clutching onto him, and I realize that he hasn’t even done anything.
All he’s done is stick my lollipop inside my pussy and I’ve lost my mind.
God knows what I’ll do when he does something.
Something like fucks me with it.
Which he does a second later.
He begins to fuck me with my candy and I don’t know how to handle it. I don’t know how to take that.
So I chant his name. I chant it like a prayer because only he can save me. My Graham.
He can save me from feeling this much, from feeling this full, from falling in love with him deeper and deeper with his every stroke.
But then, he speaks and I realize nothing and no one can save me. I’m as good as dead and gone in his love.
Because Jesus, his words and his voice. Dirty and erotic and so amazing.
“You were right, Jailbait. You were so fucking right,” he says in my ear and I realize he’s all the way down now.
He’s lying on his side, half covering me with his body as he pumps the lollipop in and out of my core.
He runs his open mouth along the column of my throat as he keeps whispering, “Your pussy was hungry, baby. She was so goddamn hungry. She’s eating up your candy, sucking it up like a good little kitty. Can you feel that? Can you feel your cunt sucking up her treat?”
Delirious, I turn my face to look at him as I rock into his drives. “Uh-huh, I feel it.”
“Yeah, you can. You can feel it. You can feel your kitty lapping it up.”
I rock and rock and this heavy but empty feeling in my stomach grows and spreads through my limbs. It spreads and spreads until I have to ask him. I have to open my mouth and form words, which seems like such a big task but I do it.
“God, Graham. Please make me come. Please, please, I wanna come. Please, God.”
I need his cock.
I don’t want candy. I want him. My cunt wants him.
In the next second, he gives me that too.
He rips the lollipop out of my channel. His heat disappears from my side for a few seconds before coming back and shifting over my body and I open my foggy eyes.
He’s leaning over me like last night, bracing himself on the forearms. “Open your mouth.”
I have no power left in me to do anything else but open it.
“Stick out your tongue.”
I do that too and he puts the lollipop into my mouth. “Suck it.”
I close my lips around it and suck it for him. I do it because there’s no not-doing it. I’m so horny for him, so hungry, as hungry as my core and so I suck on the lollipop he was feeding my pussy and moan like the whore I am.
I eat it like my good little kitty. I eat what he gives me and God, I taste so good. I’m tangy and salty and so fucking juicy.
“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” he asks, as if reading my thoughts.
Still sucking, I nod.
“It’s your pussy, baby. It tastes better than the candy, doesn’t it?”
I nod again, devouring it.
“Are you a convert now, Violet? Do you like your cunt better than your candy?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yeah, you do. Why wouldn’t you? Your pussy is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Sweetest and horniest and sluttiest. And you know what else?”
I shake my head, eating my candy like a greedy girl.
But then, I stop sucking. I stop swirling my tongue over it, chasing my own taste, and bite down on it, instead.
Because he enters me in one push.
I don’t even know when he snapped the condom on – probably when I was still delirious from his candy fucking – and now, he gets all the way inside of me in one easy stroke, taking away all my breaths and all the emptiness that I was feeling.
Then he throws my thighs over his arms and pushes them back into my body.
My pussy feels even tighter like this. With my legs thrown over my ears and my sneakers up in the air. The laces are undone and flutter around us, swaying in and out of my vision and somehow, it makes me even hornier.
“Your pussy tastes like she’s mine,” he finally finishes his thought from before and I moan around my lollipop.
He draws his shaft back and out before shoving it inside again, punctuating it with his dirty words. “I want her on tap, your cunt. I want your tight, teenage cunt on tap, baby.”
Another drive of his cock, followed by another moan of mine at how good he stretches me.
“And I want to fill her with
lollipops. I want to fuck her with them. And then, I want you to suck on that pussy-flavored candy while I fuck you with my cock and blow my load all over you.”
At this, I moan the loudest. I even pop the pussy-flavored candy out of my mouth to tell him, “Yes, you can have her. You can have all of her. All of me. I’m your slut. Your whore. Your everything. I’m yours, Graham.”
His expression shifts.
It becomes even fiercer and sharper. More than even last night when he took my virginity. In fact, it’s the sharpest and most ruthless I’ve ever seen and I know what it is.
Or what it looks like.
It looks like love.
This dream-maker, dream-causer, dream-weaver of a thing that I want to grab with both my hands. I want to grab that look and never let go. Never lose it. Never do anything to jeopardize it.
I never want him to stop looking at me like that. Like he’s in love with me.
A second later, he pops the candy out of my mouth and throws it away before kissing the fuck out of me.
Before fusing our bodies together and slamming his cock into me. Pounding and ramming and beating up my horny channel as he fucks me. Plows into me like a beast.
It’s even more intense than last night. The way he’s riding my pussy.
His strokes are harder and more powerful. More possessive. Like his need for me only increased after he had one taste of me.
Like he wants me even more now. Like he needs me more.
He needs me so much that he can’t control himself.
He slams into me over and over, slapping our flesh together, smacking my ass with his pelvis. He drives into me with such ferocity that my legs go all the way back and hit the wall. The headboard hits the wall too.
It’s like he’s trying to find something inside of me. He’s trying to find a thing he wants, a place he wants even, so he can live there.
His hips work double time as he pounds my pussy and searches for this elusive thing.
And it’s so good, so fucking wonderful that I grab onto his ass and make him go harder. I make him go deeper than before. I make him stretch me out more, stretch me out so much that I never feel empty.
That I never feel hollow and lonely. That he finds whatever he wants and takes it from me and keeps it for himself. Keeps me for himself, even.
DREAMS of 18 Page 25
