Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
When he’s done with the home furnishings, he grasps my face around the chin and looks at me. “You want me to fuck you, baby,” he growls.
I blink at the ferocity in his voice and my pussy clenches with excitement.
“I think I just got my answer,” he smirks.
The first thrust is slow, as if he’s testing out the depth of me, and how much room he has to maneuver. There isn’t much. When he thrusts again, it’s as if he’s decided he doesn’t give a fuck about anything. It’s so hard it knocks the breath from my lungs and the last ounce of sense from my head. “You–want–to–get–fucked–hard,” he grunts as he works his hips against me, pushing that huge cock in and out of my swollen pussy. I’m so wet I can hear the slippery noises loudly in the otherwise silent room. The party seems to go on in another reality, and I don’t care that there are people out there that could walk in on us at any second because what Harrison is doing to me feels too damn good to care about anything except the next thrust.
He pushes my thighs wide, watching his cock spear me, his abs rippling and pecs flexing with exertion. His skin is shiny with sweat, and I lean forward to lick his arm, which is the only part of him I can reach.
“Bite me,” he grunts, hooking my legs over his shoulder and pressing me backward, caging me in with his ridiculously toned arms. I turn my head and take a good chunk of his forearm flesh and bite hard. I feel his cock kick inside me and want to laugh. Who’d have thought Harrison was into pain? I stroke over the teeth marks I’ve left with my tongue and he groans. “Again,” he barks.
“Yeah baby,” I say, pushing my hips upwards, biting him again, even harder this time.
“Fuck,” he says, thrusting so hard the piece of furniture we’re on starts banging against the wall.
Harrison picks me up again, dropping onto his knees with me still wrapped around him like some kind of desperate monkey. He lays me on a soft rug and stretches out on top. He’s so big and heavy, and it’s bliss to be this powerless in his arms. He grinds into me hard, bone to bone, and he’s so deep it aches, even so, my clit is pulsing for more. His face presses into my neck, breath hot and moist against my skin as he groans and pants. My mask must scratch his face, but he doesn’t go to remove it. I wonder what it’s like for him to be fucking a chick dressed in goth-horror clothes and make-up. It doesn’t seem to bother him at all. Harrison’s hand gets busy pushing down the top of my dress and bra, exposing my erect nipple to the room’s cold air. When he palms my breast and feels how turned on I am, it makes him thrust even harder.
My pussy’s getting sore now, but he isn’t letting up, and I’m getting really close to feeling like I might come again. It would be a first for me, but his cock just feels so damn good I almost can’t bear it.
I start to moan in little bursts, which make him rise onto his arms above me. He rolls his hips slowly as he looks into my eyes, grazing my clit with each pass, leaning in to kiss me. My hips mirror his action, and we move in perfect harmony, as if we have been doing this for years, and I catch a little smile on his lips when he sees me watching the action between our bodies.
“You like to watch?” he asks and then full out grins as though it’s a hilarious discovery.
“You put on a good show,” I reply and he laughs.
“I want you to put on a good show. You getting close?”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Fuck yeah.”
“What do you need?” I die a little inside at how considerate he is. I’ve had my fair share of lovers, but most just rub away and hope for the best. It has taken time and schooling to get them to where I needed them to be. Trust Harrison to be mature about sex.
“Lie down on top of me,” I say. “Hold me around my waist and fuck me as hard as you can.”
My request seems to amuse him, or maybe it’s my bluntness. He asked, so he got told. Simple as that.
He does as I say, resting his full weight on me, with one arm slipped under my back and the other holding the top of my head. I flinch, thinking about the wig and how, even though I pinned it securely in place, there is a chance it could come away in his grip. Harrison is gentle, though, cupping rather than holding on.