Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I gasped as his fingers found my most sensitive spot, circling and stroking with practiced skill. To my horror and shame, I felt pleasure building rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in my core.
“No… please…” I moaned.
Martin’s obscenely skilled fingers probed into me, rousing my most sensitive flesh, sending jolts of electricity through my body. I squirmed on his lap, torn between shame and desperate need.
“That’s it, ma petite salope,” he murmured. “Let go. Show me how much you loved your spanking.”
His words sent a fresh wave of humiliation through me, but my traitorous body responded eagerly to his touch. The burning in my bottom only seemed to heighten every sensation. I felt my aching sheath clench and pulse as Martin’s fingers worked unwelcome magic.
“Oh, God,” I whimpered, my hips bucking against his hand. “I can’t… I’m going to…”
“Come for me,” Martin commanded, his voice low and hypnotic. “Come right now, you little whore.”
As if my body was waiting for his permission, the tension inside me suddenly reached a crescendo. Waves of intense pleasure crashed over me, radiating outward from my desperate pussy. I cried out, my back arching as I rode out the most powerful orgasm of my life.
“Very good, chérie,” Martin pronounced, his condescension almost palpable. “Now it’s time for you to show your gratitude. On your knees.”
Martin’s strong hands grasped my shoulders, guiding me off his lap and onto the floor of the limousine. I found myself kneeling between his legs, my face level with his crotch. The leather seats creaked as he shifted, reaching for his zipper.
“Open that pretty mouth for me, whore,” he commanded, freeing his thick, hard cock.
I stared at it, mesmerized and terrified. The only other time I’d done this flashed through my mind—my ex-boyfriend, fumbling and awkward, barely lasting a minute before pushing me away. He’d acted like I’d performed a chore, making me feel ashamed for even trying.
Martin’s member was nothing like that pitiful experience. It jutted proudly from a nest of salt-and-pepper curls, the head already glistening with arousal. My mouth went dry at the sight of it.
“I said open,” Martin growled, impatience coloring his tone.
Trembling, I parted my lips. Why was I doing this? The question echoed in my mind, but I couldn’t seem to resist his authoritative presence.
His hand tangled in my hair, gripping tightly as he guided my mouth onto his rigid shaft. I gagged as he pushed past my lips, the musky taste and scent overwhelming my senses.
“Relax your throat,” he instructed, his voice strained with lust. “Let me use you the way I paid to do.”
Martin’s fingers tightened in my hair as he began to thrust into my mouth, his hips lifting from the car seat to drive deep between my motionless lips. I struggled to breathe through my nose, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. His cock hit the back of my throat with each forceful push, making me gag and choke.
“That’s it, take it all,” he growled, his hips pumping faster. “Such a good little cocksucker.”
The car’s leather seats creaked as Martin shifted his weight, driving himself deeper. I could feel the vibrations of the engine through the floor, a counterpoint to the obscene wet sounds filling the air. The taste of him coated my tongue—salty, musky, overwhelming.
My jaw ached from the stretch, lips raw from the friction. Martin’s breathing grew ragged, his grip on my hair almost painful.
“I’m close,” he panted. “You’re going to swallow every drop, understood?”
I whimpered in response, unable to form words with my mouth so full. Martin’s hips jerked erratically as he chased his release. With a guttural groan, he slammed in deep, holding me in place as his cock pulsed.
“Swallow,” he commanded hoarsely.
Hot, bitter fluid flooded my mouth. I gulped reflexively, fighting my gag reflex as Martin’s cum slid down my throat. To my shock and mortification, I felt a perverse sense of pride at having given this brutal man the pleasure he sought.
Martin’s grip on my hair loosened as the last pulses of his orgasm subsided. I sat back on my heels, gasping for air, the taste of him still heavy on my tongue. My mind reeled, struggling to process what had just happened.
Suddenly, Martin’s hands were on my shoulders, roughly shoving me away. I stumbled, nearly falling as I scrambled to right myself in the cramped space of the limousine.
“Get out,” he said, his voice cold and dismissive.
I blinked at him in confusion, my addled brain struggling to keep up with this abrupt shift. “What?”
Martin’s lip curled in disgust as he tucked himself back into his trousers. “I said get out. You’ve earned your allowance for the month, little whore. But I won’t be seeing you again.”
My cheeks burned with humiliation as his words sank in. I had degraded myself, let this man use me in the most intimate way, and now he was tossing me aside like garbage.