Reset Password
Reset Link Sent
Blogs > aliljaded > It's All Relevant |
My naughty little fantasy continued… My naughty little fantasy continued… He kissed me, with the taste of his come still lingering in my mouth, his tongue invading, demanding, taking. I was dizzy with lust, drunk on it. He was every filthy thing I’d dreamed of behind my good girl facade. He picked me up and carried me out of the stall, sitting me on the counter between two sinks. My legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, pulling him close so I could grind the aching wetness of my pussy against his slowly stiffening cock. “The door,” I whispered and he nodded. He found a triangular rubber doorstop and shoved it under the door, preventing anyone outside the bathroom from opening it. When he came back to me, his smile was wicked. “All mine,” he said. He kissed me again, cupping my face between his palms for leverage. He slid one hand down my cheek, following the line of my throat down to my breast. He palmed it, pinching my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, watching my face as he increased the pressure until the pain shot through my body, making me arch against him and gasp my pleasure into his mouth. He liked that, because he repeated the process with my other breast, finding just the right amount of pressure to make me squirm. “Please,” I begged softly, unable to look away from the intensity in his eyes. I wasn’t even certain what I was begging for, I just knew that I wanted more - more pain, more pleasure, more…him. He obliged by pushing his hand between my thighs, finding my silky panties already dripping wet. He didn’t bother to remove them, just pushed them aside enough to slide two fingers roughly into my slick folds, his thumb rubbing against my clit as he teased me, watching my face for that moment when pleasure ripped a moan from my throat and made my eyelids flutter. “That’s it,” he murmured against my ear, giving it a little bite. “Come all over my fingers, you dirty little slut.” I was, and I knew it. He knew it, too, from the way his words made my pussy clamp down on his fingers. He growled against my throat, trailing little nips and wet, hot kisses along my neck. I could feel his cock, hot and hard, rubbing against the inside of my thigh. “Yes,” I said breathlessly. “Yes, yes, please, yes.” His smile was wicked. “Beg me for it, then. Beg me to make you come right here, right now.” The words just fell out of my mouth, without thinking. “Please, please, make me come, let me come for you, please I need it, I want you, please, please, please…” “Sir.” I nodded. “Please, Sir, please…oh god, please, let me come.” “I like the way you beg,” he said. He kissed me again and his fingers were demanding, taking me higher and higher, closer to that perilous edge of orgasm - and despite the fact that he wasn’t mine, obedience had been too well trained into me, and however badly I wanted to come, orgasm hovered just out of reach, and I moaned. “Please,” I whispered. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. My nipples were hard little points, scraping against the front of his dress shirt. He flicked his thumb over my clit, once, twice, watching my body arch up off the counter with each movement. After what seemed like forever, he leaned in as if to kiss me and whispered against my lips, “Come.” His thumb rubbed me, over and over, and the orgasm that hovered so close crashed through me like a cannonade of fireworks. His mouth covered mine, drinking in my cries as he pinned my writhing body between his and the mirror. When I came back to myself, he slowly pulled his fingers from my pussy, glistening with my juices. He licked them himself, pronounced me delicious and the held his fingers to my mouth. “You know what to do, don’t you?” he asked. “Be a good little slut and clean me up.” I sucked his fingers in my mouth like they were his cock, licking every inch clean with little flicks of my tongue before sucking strongly. He slid his fingers in and out of my mouth a couple of times, before pulling away with a groan. He leaned in and pressed his forehead against mine. “I want to fuck you,” he said. “God, I want to fuck you. Right here and now. Tell me no. Tell me you don’t want me to. It’s the only way you’re going to walk out of here tonight without my come dripping down your thighs.” His eyes were serious, and I pushed my hand against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under the smoothness of his shirt. I knew I should say no. If I was a good girl, I’d say no. But tonight, I was tired of being good. I looked up, meeting his green eyes with my blue ones. “Yes,” I said. “I want you to fuck me.” His eyes widened. “Please,” I added softly. “Sir.” A look flashed over his face - tenderness, lust, possession, need - and he kissed me again. This time it wasn’t careful, sweet, or passionate. It was demanding, brutal. He took my mouth like he was starving for a taste of me. I wondered if he could taste a hint of my pussy lingering on my lips. “Turn around,” he insisted, picking me up again and setting me on my feet. He spun me around until I faced the mirror, my hands braced on the counter. He pushed my skirt up higher, baring my ass to him completely, save for the fragile silk of my underwear. That he ripped apart, tugging until the thin elastic straps on either side broke and my wet pussy was open to him. I watched in the mirror as he rubbed the head of his cock against the entrance of my pussy, teasing us with the promise of that first thrust inside. “I love how fucking wet you are,” he groaned. “So hot and wet just for me.” “Mmmm, yes,” I agreed distracted by what he was doing. He grabbed a handful of my long hair and pulled, tipping my head back so that our eyes met in the mirror. “I’m not going to be nice,” he warned. “I’m gonna fuck you hard and rough, as much as you can take.” “Yes,” I begged again. “Please, yes. Just fucking take me already.” “Yes,” he growled. “Take me.” He slammed himself inside me in one hard, deep thrust. The edge of the counter pressed against my clit and he held me there, one hand on my hip and the other in my hair, as he fucked me with all the pent-up lust we’d generated between us. It wasn’t nice and it wasn’t gentle - it was raw and rough and demanding - and I loved it. I know he could feel from the tightness of my body that he was working me quickly to another orgasm, because he groaned when I squeezed him and his hand pulled my hair back harder, making me lift my head to meet his eyes again. "Don’t you dare fucking come unless I say so,” he told me, giving my curls a tug. “If you want to come, you know what to, slut.” I moaned. “Beg.” "Please,” I mumbled, not thinking clearly. Every filthy word he said turned me on that much more, because it was as if he’d been reading my mind, knew exactly what buttons to push to ratchet the pleasure up even higher. He leaned over and put his palms on either side of mine on the counter so that he could grind his cock into me slower, harder, deeper. “You like that, don’t you?” he asked. “You like it when I call you a dirty little slut because that’s what you are, isn’t it? Behind all that polished professional appearance, you’re just a horny, filthy, needy little fucktoy, aren’t you?” “Yes,” I mumbled again, lost in his words. “What was that?” he asked, pulling my head up by my hair again. “I can’t hear you, slut. Louder. Say it.” “I’m a slut.” “Still can’t hear you.” “I’m a slut!” “More.” “I’m a dirty, filthy slut. A needy little hole for you to fuck. Please!” "Please what?” he asked archly. “Please let me come,” I begged, beyond caring who might be outside the restroom door. “Please, Sir, please, let me come.” He watched the struggle on my face while he fucked me, grinding my pussy against the edge of the counter until I thought I was going to scream. "Do it,” he said urgently. “Come for me. Now!” He leaned up and fucked me harder, faster, and my orgasm boiled over and I had to stifle my scream against my hand. He thrust into me twice more, groaning with effort as he came, filling me with scalding splashes. The weight of his body held me against the counter when my knees might have given way, and he pressed a kiss to my temple before he stood up. “That was fucking incredible,” he said, flashing me that devilish smile. “Promise me you won’t make me wait until next month’s meeting before we can do that again.” fireflyflashes~ "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.” |
|||
|
Hot story. She needed a gang bang in the restroom.
| ||
|
Lovely story. "Men need to hunt. She obviously understands this. She’s offering herself as prey. Not easy prey. But willing.”
|
Become a member to comment on this blog | ||
×
×