Virgin Spark

by Celia Crown

  Any leverage she finds on me goes to a new vigor of her hips, swirling and rocking to squirm up just a little more and my cock kisses her pulsing hole. My cock slips right pass because she’s too wet and I never thought it was bad until now, I was rooting for her to succeed.

  Anna tries once more, a fighter at heart and she’s not going to admit defeat. I let her have her way; this is about her just as much about me. I’m willing to relinquish some of my control and give it to her, I want her to have a taste of that freedom to do anything, and I will snatch it away because I am a vile man who needs dominance over this small, little thing.

  I slip to her hole again, and she tips her hips up, she’s learned her lesson as she slowly stops her hips. With a flicker of bright determination in her amber eyes, I bite back a grin when she pushes her weight down, and the tip pops in.

  Her feet falter, and I catch her waist, supporting her limp body as she trembles with just the tip in. Anna is going to have a lot more than the thick head; my cock is a lot fatter than the tip, and she’s hardly breathing anymore.

  “Breathe, Anna,” I soothe her with my voice, gently lowering her to the bed and keeping the tip inside her tight walls.

  It’s hot and silky smooth, rippling with need and I will gladly provide her the relief.

  She chokes and nods with disorientation, “Please.”

  Anna isn’t a vulgar person, she’s well-mannered, and it’s on a new level of filthy when I defile her to render her a sobbing mess under me.

  She shuts her eyes tightly, the bright ambers hidden as her body strings up tighter in preparation. The tip slips out, and her eyes fly open. Her pink lips open with a whine, and a distressed complain of my name.

  “You promised you’d make me feel good,” she sniffles, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

  It’s a little intimidating with just how big I am, the wonder of how I can fit clicks in my mind as I watch her folds part to show me the little hole. The size of her opening is not meant to take me, but she’s a demanding little thing.

  I’ll be damned if I don’t and damned if I do.

  Her white knuckles dig deep into the pillows, coming towards my arms and clawing at my inked skin with her nails. She doesn’t notice that her hips her moving again and her folds part to catch the tip of my cock again in her hole.

  “D-don’t be a bully!” she pouts when I pull away.

  She’s near tears again, and it’s too pretty; heat coils in my stomach and my cock twitches in protest as another spurt of cum splashes in her. She chokes a sob and shoots a glare towards me; her feisty little claws are digging into my skin, and it’s a lure that has me tipping my hips toward her.

  Anna squeals and isn’t ashamed of how needy she sounds when she begs me to fuck her, but she won’t settle on just having the tip inside. She’s becoming a greedy little girl. I must be rubbing off on her if she thinks she can command me to do anything.

  I’ll let it slide this time. I am the one that put her on the edge so I should take responsibility for my actions. Even though she thinks she’s ready to take me, I’m still too thick for her. There is no way she can do it herself without my help, and her dependence on me brings a purr from my throat.

  My chest makes a rumbling sound as I keep my weight on my elbows, looking into her amber eyes as she feels every thick inch go in. Her expressive face is an open book for me to feast on, and it’s the sense of accomplishment that swells in my chest that brings my legs upward to knock her off the equilibrium as my cock sinks deeper.

  It tears a noise out of her, unexpected and raw as she cries with an instant spasm of her walls. Her small hole constricts halfway on my cock, and she struggles to take the rest, but I push forward and break her limits. The smear of her virginity coats my cock, running along with my balls with her warm slick as she chews on her bottom lips.

  “Luke,” she whimpers, face scrunching as I thrust my entire length in her trembling, hot pussy.

  Her tiny slit holds the base of my cock, the ring of muscle pulses strongly as her folds kiss the end of my shaft with tender flutters that have me groaning her name through a series of curses.

  It’s good, too fucking good that my hips are rocking to the tempo of her heartbeat that I can feel on my chest.

  “Good?” I ask to gauge her reaction.

  It’s slow and sluggish, but she gives me a small nod, and it’s the permission I need. This is Anna’s first time, and it’s mine to take, every experience she’s having comes from me, and I take great pride in putting a debauched expression on her face.

  My eyes travel over her face and take a moment to mesmerize the gorgeous broken façade of a girl too lost in her throne of pleasure to see a man more than half her age leering down at her and cock deep in a place too pure to be ruined.

  It’s a shame because it’s the only thing I care about doing as the roar of thunder agrees with me.

  I pull back and thrust to find a rhythm that will work for her. She has to get used to being snuggly filled before I start hammering in her small pussy. I’ll break more than her cunt at that point, but she’ll learn to love it.

  The push of my girth length is sloppy and slow as honey, gliding through her quivering muscles and finding the spot that will make her sing the song of a siren to continue to a malicious cycle of seducing my heart.

  My next roll of a hip is a little faster, cock hot and hard inside when she tilts her hips to match my face. I do it again, a tinge rougher with a calloused edge of my teeth going for the column of her neck.

  She cries, huffs my name, and scratches her nails across my back. “More!”

  Greedy, greedy little girl, my mind hisses.

  My thumb is cruel; brushing feathery strokes, never giving in to her demands as her cunt spasms through her orgasm.

  How easy it is to take control back. I have her body putty in my hands, and one stroke has her coming over the edge.

  Her cum drenches my cock, giving me the friction and slick to fuck her on smooth and steadier thrusts. Her orgasm is felt through my cock. The new wetness triggers a sick pain in my cock to spray the inside of her silken cunt with my cum.

  “T-this—oh! Luke, ah! I-I feel—” she muffles her voice in my collarbone.

  She doesn’t care for our height difference when she fucks herself on my cock, but she’s done enough with her frail, little body. I’m here to take the burden away and let her be treated like the princess she is.

  She may not see it herself, but she likes and demands pleasure from me with her amber eyes; those fiery demands that her voice can’t match, and I’m a slave to the hues of molten gold.

  The slippery width of my cock sinks quicker with rapid pummels that breaks the silence with squelches, splitting her open further and further until she is taking the overwhelming pleasure with everything her delicate body can withstand.

  “I want you to cum again,” I growl, cursing with each snap of my hips.

  The twists of her mouth, the painfully clenched slit, and the shaking of her thighs trigger her spine to arch effortlessly. Her bouncing tits flatten against mine, and I push her down, angling my hips to crush her little clit and rut deeply into her.

  The tip of my cock taps her deepest part, and her body jumps in shock. Her eyes dart, and her voice catches in her throat.

  “Luke, too deep,” she blabs, “Too big— I… it’s coming again!”

  “It’s okay,” I hush her, goading the tears spilling from her eyes as the gleam of the smile that plays on my lips scares her.

  “Don’t hold back, Anna, give me everything.”

  She shakes her head, murmuring with choked saliva as she hiccups, “No— too much, too much!”

  Bracing my knees on the bed, I hammer in her stretched hole with merciless vigor that rips a louder scream as she takes on the assault of my hips scraping her clit. She comes with a hot gush of juices drenching more than the bed; my balls are soaked with her release, and it’s leaking everywhere.

  Th
is makes it easier for me to rut through her orgasm, breaching her limits of exhaustion as I work harder to chase alongside the spark that travels down my spine and stays at my balls when they slap at her cunt.

  It’s dirty and downright filthy, sex or lovemaking, I don’t care as long as her pussy is gaping wide with my cum escaping her used hole.

  I fuck her harder, faster, and deeper to ensure that when I cum, it’s branded in her. It takes too long to see the boiling cum being unstoppable when it burst out of my cock. The expansion to accommodate the powerful twitches of my shaft locks me inside, pumping vile cum in her fertile pussy and smearing my ownership to guarantee everything of hers is mine.

  There is too much that some of it has to leak out of her snugged pussy to make room for more as my cock has a lot to give. Each lazy pulse spurts out more; it’s probably not normal to cum this much in one session, but I have been waiting for a long time.

  Leaning back, my knees carry my weight back as my cock slides out with a plop on the soiled bed. I part her legs to watch the creamy whites dribble out of her gaping hole; it’s a disgustingly depraved sight that I’m addicted to, and it’s also the most stunning view I have ever seen.

  It’s mine.

  “You’re mine, Anna.”

  She mumbles sleepily, “Yours.”

  Epilogue

  Anna

  Six Months Later.

  Being pregnant and under house arrest is not fun, especially when my prison warden is my husband.

  Everything I do is under scrutiny, and I know that he's this protective because he’s concerned for me and our baby, but it’s like me having smoke inhalation all over again. This time, it is more extreme with me only a little more than halfway into my pregnancy. The moment he found out I was pregnant, he had the whole apartment bump-proof in case my ecstatic clumsiness causes me injuries.

  Luke still goes to work every day, and I run my blog from home. We would have dinner all the time and go to bed early because he is tired from work and the baby takes out all my energy by the end of the day.

  The main thing that changed in the apartment unit is that Luke installed state-of-the-art security cameras and locks on the door and windows. He can remotely check up on me during the day so he doesn’t disrupt my naps or when I don’t answer during one of my intense sessions of making a new blog post.

  I get sucked into details about new recipes that shock me with their heritage. Sometimes the sweetest desserts come from a bitter history that no one wants to live through. It’s sad and heartbreaking to be able to be blessed with the knowledge of a piece of art through the struggles of those in that time era.

  Luke would text me randomly to tell me to not do something funky or reprimand me for doing something he doesn’t approve of when he watches the live security feed. It’s like having my personal stalker and bodyguard in one person. It’s freakishly weird that I love being watched by him.

  I feel safe knowing he is always watching me over in some twisted and wicked form of a guardian angel. It’s a bizarre idea, but it’s the only one that makes sense to me.

  Luke is kind and gentle, but he’s also got this madness in his demeanor that wards off people. When we go out for a walk, he’s on high alert when I’m clueless about the dangers the world poses towards the baby and me.

  Nothing ever happens, but a lot of older and mature women would try to come up to me and ask questions about my pregnancy. Luke doesn’t let them in the space that he deems as a safe zone for me because it’s the length of his arms; anyone closer than that will get a verbal warning before he’s closing his fingers into a fist.

  At that point, everyone would sense something is off, and they would back away. They can feel the devil incarnated in Luke or a very strong Amazonian warrior with a grudge to settle, though I see him as a giant teddy bear with too many muscles.

  Not that I’m complaining, I love his body, and I wish I can worship him every day.

  Getting on my knees for him is a task impossible to finish. Luke never risks my health and our baby with sexual activities.

  He doesn’t really know the extent of my body’s craving for his big cock and sprinkles with whipped cream lemons.

  It sounds gross, and it is gross to everyone but a pregnant lady.

  Since he won’t have sex with me, his fingers do a miracle for me when I need it. I can only imagine the toll it’s taking on him, and when our baby is born, he’s going to jump my bones. I think that’s the saying nowadays, but for the sake of my lady status, I’ll be a proper young woman on a mission to eat the entire fruitcake.

  A side of kimchi has never been more out of place than next to a fruitcake.

  At least the kimchi has this fermented stuff that cuts away the sweetness of the cake; a slice of orange would do the same thing, but I’m not craving oranges. I have enough of that in the cake, and I don’t want any more fruits. I’m going to become one from all the ones I ate to keep my vitamins and good bacteria in my gut healthy.

  “Why are you eating that?” Luke’s voice travels to the kitchen after he comes home from work.

  I purse my lips and squint my eyes at him, “It’s good.”

  The pungent scent of the fermented kimchi hits the wrong way when I inhale. My cravings can change faster than the forecast on the news. I would like one thing and hate it the next second. My taste-buds are temperamental like the hormones.

  He knows that I shower before he does, and he doesn’t want to dirty me with a day of grime at work, so he always settles with a kiss on my lips and a gentle stroke of my belly over a shirt that I steal from his section of the closet.

  “Welcome home,” I murmur in the kiss.

  He hums, “How was your day?”

  I tease with a smile, “You should know, you stalker.”

  Luke scolds with a click of his tongue, “I asked you a question, Anna. I expect you to answer it.”

  “Mm, grouchy,” I giggle softly, “Nothing really happened today; just updating my blog and researching for the next post’s content.”

  “And you didn’t try to go outside?” he remarks, and this evil man knows that the door has security that tells him through a phone notification that someone tried to turn the door handle.

  “No.” I wrinkle my nose at him. I’m not stupid or reckless to put our baby in harm’s way.

  “Then why did I get a notification and a live feed of you putting your hands on the door handle?” he raises an eyebrow, fingers skimming over my cheek and pinching the skin.

  I whine, slapping his hand away with the dull, throbbing pulsing on my cheek while I rub the soreness.

  “A fly came in, and it was annoying, so I made it my mission to catch it. Then it landed on the door handle, and yeah, you know what happened after that,” I shrug lightly with a crooked grin.

  He peppers my face with kisses, “I’m going to shower, and you need to brush your teeth for bed.”

  I snap my teeth at him, “I’m not a child, and you need to be clean, stinky boy.”

  He isn’t stinky or a boy. I can’t believe he lets me get away with saying a lot of things. He would have tossed me over his lap and smacked my butt into a new shade of red.

  Our baby is going to be a mama’s baby; he protects me from daddy, and I have a hunch that he is going to be a very active baby later on in my womb.

  Luke’s fast hands closed the lid on the fruitcake, and it goes into the refrigerator while he throws away the kimchi down the sink and let the wiring noise break down the cabbage and down another hole. This way, it can prevent a fermented smell in the garbage bag; it smelled gross the first time I threw away the leftover.

  It’s not sanitary to put the rest of the kimchi back to its original container.

  “Come on,” Luke says, a hand on my back, flicking the lights off and taking me to the bathroom where the door closes for privacy.

  He rips off his shirt and his muscles ripple, tightening with curves and grooves creating sharp edges. His pants go into the ha
mper next, leaving his briefs molding to his hips and the shape of his big cock.

  “Don’t think about it,” Luke warns.

  I shoot him a pout and get my toothbrush; a plastic cup fills with water as I slather on a big dollop of toothpaste. Scrubbing and watching him strip down naked is a special activity when I take the time to appreciate his body from years of fighting against fire and unstable structures.

  He’s so heartless when he grabs his big cock and strokes it roughly. My whine is distorted by the minty toothpaste and the toothbrush jammed to the side of my cheek.

  He shoots me a cocky eyebrow raise and jumps into the shower, closing the curtains when he knows that I want to watch.

  “I want you in bed when I come out,” he says over the blasting water from the showerhead.

  He can cum in me. I think as I spit out the foamy toothpaste.

  I finish brushing my teeth and washing my face when the smell of clean soap fills the bathroom. I leave the bathroom and go straight towards our bedroom to put on some skincare. Wrinkle prevention is key. I have been doing this for years, and it’s a process that I will never skip no matter how tired I am.

  My skin will thank me in later years.

  I climb into bed, laying on my back to feel the weight of our baby on all my internal organs. I turn with a sigh of relief; my feet are a bit numb from a whole day of roaming the apartment, and I’m sore in my forearms of all places.

  The bed dips behind me. I didn’t hear him come in or lock the door as he pulls the blankets over us. He’s always the big spoon, I tried once, and I became an octopus with limbs sticking to him in awkward positions.

  I am a mover in my sleep, but I am a tree stump when he snuggles me.

  We resume our sleeping positions; him behind me with arms around my round belly and legs curling with mine, head tucked into his chest and a heavy blanket protecting us from the harsh winter weather.

  “Where did you get that fruitcake?” he asks through the darkness.