pent-up sexual aggression.
I ran my hand up the length of my cock, feeling it throbbing stiff against my fingers. I couldn’t help but wonder if Ashley King could handle me. She was a petite girl. If I pushed my whole cock inside of her, it would be halfway to her sternum. But the petite girls were usually the ones who handled it best. Go figure.
It wouldn’t be long before she was on her knees, trying to figure out how to squeeze my girth through her lips. She had those small hands, with fingers that probably couldn’t reach around my whole cock. She would use both hands to stroke me off.
My dick was fully erect now. Eyes closed, and Miss April on my mind, I started to beat myself hard.
Her eyes would be fixated on my cock while she stroked it with both hands, and she would have that complex look in her eyes. Though this time, it would be a combination of, “I want Gage inside of me so badly,” and “I’m afraid I’ll be too tight, and it will hurt,” with a hint of, “I don’t care if it hurts, I want it anyway.”
She looks up at me with those deep eyes as if she’s awaiting my command—and she is. She wonders, should I keep stroking, sucking, or should I spread my legs and let you fuck me senseless? I answer with a small nod, motioning towards the mattress. She obeys, lays on her back and spreads her long legs.
Her dark pantyhose do nothing to obscure her pussy, and her shawl is strewn across her stomach, doing nothing to cover her tits. The pantyhose are easy enough to rip open. I only rip a small hole where it matters, just wide enough for entry. As I do, I can feel her damp moisture on the undergarment.
She’s ready.
Her eyes widen as I lower my cock towards her juicy lips. Her legs hover at my sides like the controls of some piece of machinery. Are they levers? Handlebars? They’re whatever I want them to be. For now, I push them aside and watch as her pink, wet slit parts open.
She bites her lip as I begin to push in. Her eyes narrow. It’s hurting her but she knows the pain in temporary—that it just means there will be more pleasure later. Her warm juices squish out around my cock. She’s already quivering, probably already about to come, too.
My fist clenched around my cock and I began to beat it harder. I was close to finishing and I could tell it was going to be a big, hot load. Miss April, with that shawl over her tummy and those black heels hovering at my sides, never leaves the forefront of my mind.
Each time I pump my cock into her, I let it slide in deeper. I can feel her relax as the tension leaves her pussy and my dick is able to slide in deep. My balls strike her body, and I’m fully inside. My body flutters. She can take the whole thing.
I start to give it to her. I grab her soft thighs firmly and use the strength of my arms to pull her towards me as I drive it into her.
Her head falls back and she lets out a loud scream. Her shawl has fallen onto the floor now, and I can see her tits bouncing, shaking, and rippling with every swift penetration. She’s coming. Her pussy is drenched, and so is a large spot on the mattress between her legs. I can feel her fingernails digging into my sides, desperately holding on, trying to maintain a mere ounce of control. I don’t let her.
I take her by the wrists and pin her arms down at her sides. I’m close. I can feel my cock swelling inside of her, pressing firmly against the tight walls of her sweet pussy. The golden bracelets that cover her arms are rattling like Santa’s fucking sleigh and her tits are bouncing around like tubs of Jell-O on the back of a Humvee.
“Shit,” I heard myself mutter.
I peeled my eyes open to see her face staring at me on Hastings’s laptop—those deep, complex eyes and that sly, cunning, mysterious smile. I couldn’t hold back any longer.
I came.
Then I noticed, in Miss April’s close-up shot, her hair was a mess, as if