“Wanna roar with the lion?” he asks. “It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for months, since the beast arrived on a truck and the lights got installed.”
“I’ll roar with any lion you have,” I giggle.
“Glad you like ice then, cos it’s gonna be cold out there.”
I squeal as he races out of the music room, my hand in his. He jogs, on a mission, and I follow in my stilettos, heady from De Chante and cock and rock.
Fuck me, it’s bitter cold when we reach the front door and he swings it open. November is well and truly showing its face now. The purples of the pillars take me aback again, as though we’reon a whole new stage, but Vinnie veers off to the right, to the massive lion statue, glowing red.
“You for real?” I ask him when he pats the back of the stone beast and offers a leg up.
“Always.”
“This is… precarious.”
“That’s when it’s most fun. Risks make life worth living.”
I take the leg up and sit astride the cold lion statue, running my hands down its flowing stone mane. Vinnie is an athletic sonofabitch, as he leaps right up and straddles the lion behind me, no leg up needed for him. I squeal as he shunts me forwards, my tits pressing against stone as he hoists me onto all fours.
Talk about precarious, this is fucking insane. I could break my bones in a tumble and end up naked and on my way to A&E, but I love it. I’m crazy for it. I can’t get enough.
Vinnie Hampton eats out my ass as I perch on top of a statue in his manor grounds, lit up in red. My tits are pressed to a lion’s mane, my voice moaning loud in the night air as he buries his face between my ass cheeks and digs his tongue in.
It’s only a starter.
Three fingers… four… and fuck how precarious it really is. I push back against him like I’m a jockey riding at a rodeo, begging for cock, cock, cock.
I need him to fuck me like this.
Ella,not Holly.
This is all about me and him tonight, not the money he’s paying for it.
Fuck the cold, and the risks, and the chill of the stone. When Vinnie Hampton spears my ass with his rock-hard dick atop a statue, it’s the only sensation in the world that matters for shit.
I buck against him, meeting every thrust, whimpering and panting like the true fuck-doll I am.
I’m alive. I’m proud. I’m me. And I never, ever want to let the energy leave me. Not for anything.
He grips my hips tight as he slams me fast, and I’m glad about that because I’m losing my own grip on the lion’s mane as well as my mind.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants as he fucks my burning ass, his balls slapping off my needy cunt with every thrust.
I feel the size of him deep inside, feel the orgasm building with every slap of his balls against my clit and I’m in heaven, singing my own filthy tune in moans and groans as he keeps on slamming.
And then he’s coming with a roar and that pushes me over the edge, my own orgasm rolling through me as he empties his balls, slam after slam after glorious slam.
One last loud “FUCKKK!” as he slams me deep and I can feel the spasm of his cock and it’s incredible. Truly incredible.
“That was amazing,” I tell him, when he helps me down in the aftermath, both of us giddy with post orgasm adrenaline.
He wraps his tatted arm around my shoulders and squeezes me tight as we walk back to the front door. We’re like a couple of teenagers, both singing the lyrics to Roar.
More De Chante for us when we’re back inside.
“What’s next on the agenda?” I ask as we stand naked at the bar, glugging champagne like it’s water.
He winks. “Time to get warmed up,” he says, and knocks back the rest of his champagne. “Drink up.”
