Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 137205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“Please,” she cries, knowing she’s running out of time.
Doesn’t she know she’s just making it better for me?
I pretend for a second that she does, that she doesn’t care if my appetites are twisted and wants it to be good for me.
The head of my bare cock hits her entrance and she cries out another useless denial.
She says my name this time, though. I like my name on her lips.
“Say it again.”
“Calvin, please,” she repeats.
I close my eyes briefly, absorbing the pleasure of her begging me right before I claim her.
Then I breach her entrance. She tries to move away, but I dig my fingers into her soft skin and hold her hips where I need them so I can force my way deeper into her body.
“Please.” She sobs, at least I think she does. It’s hard to pay attention when it feels like my cock is sliding into heaven here in the pits of Hell.
“Christ.” She’s tight. Unprepared. She cries out like I’m tearing her apart as I push another fraction of an inch into her unwilling body.
This won’t work. I want to use her, not destroy her.
I pull my cock out of her and let go. She collapses against the couch, and I climb off. She doesn’t move this time. Doesn’t look at me, either. Her face is turned toward the back of the couch so she doesn’t have to.
I walk over to the end table in the corner and grab a bottle of lube. On impulse, I peruse the toys on the wall, too, then grab a vibrator to bring with me.
I want to make her come. I know it’s a bit mean and she won’t want to, but I want it, so it’s going to happen.
I don’t know if she hasn’t moved from the couch in my absence because she’s given up, or she thought I was done with her. She couldn’t possibly think I just wanted to penetrate her and not come, right?
I should grab a condom. It’s reckless not to, and not something I would ever even consider with any of my usual playmates, but with her it adds a twisted layer of fun. She doesn’t want me to fuck her, but I will. She certainly doesn’t want me to come inside her, but for some reason, I find the idea of such risky behavior thrilling.
The untoward thought even crosses my mind that my seed could take root. I imagine her soft belly protruding to make room for my child, how she’d have to think of me every time she looked at him.
That’s a crueler thought than I’ve ever had before, but I don’t hate it, and I’m not sure why.
There’s something about this girl that feels different deep down in my gut. The idea whispers across my mind that perhaps I should’ve heeded that warning earlier, that if I keep going now, I may go too far.
What would that look like?
I don’t think I would hurt her. Not more than this, anyway. I don’t think I have it in me to kill her. I have no desire to.
If I’m not worried about killing her, then how would I go too far?
Brushing off the errant pinch of caution, I refocus on the lovely task before me. I pump out a small amount of lube and slather it over the sex toy.
She doesn’t even know I have a toy, so when I push it between her lovely thighs and into her body, she stiffens. She knows it can’t be my cock unless my cock’s a fucking foot long. The passage is much easier as I slide the toy deeper into her pussy.
I’m jealous of the toy. I want it to be my cock, so I rub myself with my free hand as I plunge the toy into her all the way to the hilt.
She sniffles. Her hips shift as she tries to move away from the intrusion, but she’s not fighting hard. I’ve already broken her spirit, poor little thing.
I pump the toy in and out of her pussy a few times to make sure she’s well lubricated, then I withdraw it and reposition the tip so she’ll feel the vibration against her clit.
Then I turn it on.
Hallie jumps and tries to crawl away. I climb back on the couch so I have better control of her, but she’s trying more earnestly to get the vibrator out of her. She gets her arms over the edge of the couch and is just about to roll off onto the floor. I have to let go of the vibrator to stop her.
“Stop,” she says, smacking my arms and clawing at my hands, trying to pry my fingers off her. “Why are you using that? That has nothing to do with your pleasure.”
“I know, it’s for yours,” I explain calmly as she digs her nails into my hand and scratches. The bite of pain only makes me smile.