body, so his breath blew hot against across my throat. “But I don’t think you will, little virgin. You enjoy my touch. You trust me.” He watched me, his fingers brushing across my most sensitive parts. My body jumped in response as if it meant to obey him even if I would not.
I groaned and rolled my head back on the desk, unable to make any more coherent noises than that.
He smiled against the skin of my throat. The pressure at my core increased as he inched first one finger inside me, then two. My whole body trembled for him. I tried to retreat, to thrash away, but there was nowhere to go. I tried to clench my legs closed but he wouldn’t allow me to close my legs to him. His grip was powerful, relentless, his fingers pressing ever deeper, widening me, preparing me, teaching me to obey his touch.
I climaxed hard against his hand before falling back onto the desk. He withdrew his fingers while I gasped with exhaustion. I tilted my head up, realizing to my extreme embarrassment that not only were his fingers shining with my inner cream, they also had a bit of blood on them from him pressing so deeply and forcefully into my formerly untouched core. He held my eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them, tasting me. He sucked his fingers and I shuddered at the sight. “Are you hurt? Is there much pain?” he asked with surprising tenderness and concern. I had proven myself to him, I realized. I had proven myself a virgin. And now, finally, he trusted me .
“No, I’m fine, sir,” I told him honestly. And I want you to touch me again , I added silently.
He grunted in acknowledgement of that and moved down my body until he was between my legs again, relaxed, in control, fascinated by what he found there. He bent his head, the roughness of his chin grazing the tender inside of my thigh, and licked my cunt in gratitude. The soft, rasping sensation made me cry out in surprise. He drove his tongue up and down my slit in slow, sensual strokes. He pressed his tongue a little ways inside me, a gesture that left me gasping for breath. Then he moved back up my body, slowly, always slowly, always watching me through those imperial glasses of his. Hooking his arm under my knees, he elevated both of my legs over my head, pinning my knees against my chest. I cried out in surprise. Suddenly, to my extreme embarrassment, I was exposed completely, back to front, everything laid open and bare and vulnerable to his scrutiny. I was more humiliated than at any other time in my life.
“Hush, my dove, hush,” he said. I must have been saying something, begging for something, but I think he knew I was his then, body and soul, that there was no turning back for either of us.
He explored my various nether parts thoroughly and carefully as if he meant to familiarize himself with every private part of me. He touched and licked me shamelessly, his tongue dipping in and out of my openings until I was wet and dripping and calling out to him. Then he plunged two fingers back into my cunt so suddenly that I cried out, though there was no real pain. I was so slick with my own juices and his saliva that I felt almost no discomfort at his invasion this time.
No one had ever touched me like this. No one had ever entered me there. He was less gentle this time. He pushed harshly against my opening, merciless in his desire to reach inside me, to claim me, to initiate me. I clenched down on his fingers, squeezing them with muscles I wasn’t aware I had even as he milked me. He groaned in appreciation and said, “Christ, you’re so beautifully tight, Evelyn, and you taste so good.” My cheeks burned as I rocked my hips back and forth, letting him finger-fuck me to another orga sm that left his fingers and my entire cunt shining wet with my release. “Evelyn, my dove, my virgin,” he said, “are you always so tight?”
I couldn’t have answered him if I tried, and anyway, he didn’t wait for an answer. He shifted forward so
Steve Hayes, David Whitehead