Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
“Now,” she huffs, leaning back against the mirror and opening her legs wider.
And I forget she’s nineteen
I forget anything but getting on my knees and burying my face between her thighs.
five
Petra
Wait.
Who am I?
Baby sister. Makeup artist. Receptionist. Temp escort.
Badass?
I just ordered this giant onto his knees and he went.
This is simultaneously the weirdest and greatest day of my life.
Through the barely-there material of my thong, Barry rubs his face in my wet flesh and moans. I moan, too, because the bristle of his five o’clock shadow is so arousing when it creates friction there. His shoulders are so massive that my legs feel like they’re spread around a mountain, and I marvel over the intimacy of what’s happening. I’ve never even kissed a man, let alone had one give me oral, but how can I explain the instinct that locked into place inside of me when Barry apologized so humbly?
It was a cool drink of water from a spring well.
It was clarity itself.
When Barry picked me up and threw me onto the sink, getting in my face to demand I stay away from men, I should have been terrified.
Instead, I got excited.
Warmth flowed slick between the folds of my sex.
And a light flickered to life inside of me.
I might be tiny compared to him, but I knew he’d do anything to make amends. Anything I wanted. I think I sensed…that he even wanted to be given an order.
So I gave it. And it felt good.
What he’s doing to me now feels even better.
“Oh, Christ,” he groans, looking up at me while he eases aside the sheer crotch of my thong and runs his tongue deep between the separation of my flesh. Using his lips to gently rub aside the hood of my clitoris, he tickles the pearl beneath with the tip of his tongue. A mewl sneaks out of me, and he shudders in response, giving me firmer tickles, presses of flesh on flesh. Mashing his stiff upper lip to the center of my mound while he licks below, my sensitivity off the charts. “You taste so good,” he grinds out. “Petra.”
The wet harmony of tongue dragging through soaked silk fills my head. “You’ll call me ‘princess’ when you’re apologizing.”
A spike of lust from Barry reaches me in my elevated position on the sink. His huge chest sinks down and rises rapidly, his eyes almost delirious with need. “Princess,” he mutters, licking me like I’m the plate of his final meal. “My tongue is your throne.”
Oh, my goodness.
Wait, that’s so hot.
It’s too hot.
I’m losing my woman-in-charge vibe because my belly is starting to feel funny. Like spaghetti being twirled around a fork and there’s about to be a bite.
W-why are my legs shaking so badly?
My hand slips a little and I smack the back of my head on the mirror.
Just a mild bump, I don’t even feel it. I can’t feel anything but what Barry is doing to me, but he makes a sound of sympathy against my sex, then reaches up to insert his palm between my head and the mirror, keeping it there to protect me. He’s that big compared to me? I think he could even reach further. And it doesn’t disrupt his flow, his tongue winding its length inside of me like a sensual corkscrew until a fine sheen of sweat layers itself on my cleavage, my mouth open and panting, whining his name when he goes back to working that swollen button.
“P-p-please,” I scream behind my teeth. “K-keep doing that. There, there, there.”
He looks right at me and flicks my clit with his tongue, brushing it with the soft inner lining of his lips. I feel his fingers press into me and wait, only an inch deep. Turning and exploring just the very entrance. “Does my princess want two deep fingers in her cunt?”
“Yes,” I sob.
He snarls a little as he tucks his big digits as deep as they’ll go.
Jiggling roughly.
I feel the action all the way in my tummy.
As if he hits a switch, a valve twists below my navel and I explode.
It’s a good thing he has his free hand behind my head and the mirror, because I might have broken it otherwise. My back arches like I’ve been possessed and I scream in a way I never have before. It’s horny and exultant and abandoned. My thighs hug the sides of his face and tremble for a long moment, my inner walls contracting without cease until I cry out in pain and finally, finally they release, bringing with them a tide of pleasure so vast and translucent, all I can do is float.
I watch through drowsy eyes as Barry heaves himself to his feet, a flushed giant, laboring to breathe while looking down at his handiwork. He unzips his pants just time for his erection to tumble out into his fist, milky white cream fountaining from the engorged head. He aims the eruption at the juncture of my thighs, coating me in stripes of sperm, bellowing his pleasure like an animal. There is so much milk that it runs in rivulets down my slit, continuing down, down, to fill the split of my backside.