This guy is such an asshole. “You’d better quicken your pace with those fingers, to make me even interested or tempted to suck your dick.”
He chuckles as he stretches onto his knees, hovering over me, and his pace begins to follow a faster rhythm.
I let myself be pulled into the moment, feeling only myself and this stranger, the high fixated only on give and take, like an energetic exchange. I prop myself up more, my tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock. It’s a beautiful cock, and althoughhe’s still wearing his shirt, from the muscles in his legs alone, I can tell the fucker is ripped.
I skirt my tongue along the bottom of his shaft and then take him into my mouth, barely able to fit around his size. Fuck, that’s a nice dick. We fall into a steady rhythm as my head bobs back and forth, and he continues to pump into me, circling my clit. I ride the wave of bliss until we quicken the pace, and I’m almost choking around his cock, satisfied as I live in the moment of now, a cool night breeze whipping around us.
But I want more. I want to get off. I scrape my teeth along his length, and he growls as his cock twitches in my throat, and I smile, satisfied.
I want him. More specifically, I want his cock. Nowadays, I always come prepared because every night I’m searching for someone new to help me forget. I reach into my bra and pull out a condom, and a devilish smile tugs at his lips.
His hand wraps around my throat, and he pulls me up by it. I don’t know this man, but for some reason, I allow myself to surrender to him, the rush and excitement adding a dangerous edge to our play.
“You came awfully prepared,” he growls as he helps me up into a sitting position.
I push him back by the shoulders, forcing him onto his ass as I straddle him again.
“Make me forget,” I whisper as I nibble on the edge of his ear and then brush my lips against his to wipe away that smug expression.
If he were a better man, he might’ve asked questions about what I need to forget, but I know without a doubt this guy is an asshole through and through.
He rips at the package of the condom, and we maintain eye contact as he rolls it over his cock.
I kiss him, my tongue pushing against his as I drown myself in this beautiful stranger. He takes everything I’m willing to offer him, a guttural sound escaping him as he encourages my hips down with his hands, and I lower myself to rub against the tip of his cock, lining myself up. The moment I do, he slams me down onto his cock, and I gasp. But he’s already stealing my breath, feeding off my little whimpers as I adjust and stretch around his size.
Then I begin to bounce, my breath hitching as I lose myself in him and the high of the drug, the buzz of the alcohol, and the toxicity of fucking a stranger whose name I don’t even know.
I open my eyes and lean back, staring at him, watching him pant as I rock back and forth, and I impale myself on his cock over and over again, his own hands slamming me down with controlled force.
There’s something damning in those eyes that heightens my high. Our faces naturally gravitate toward one another, biting and sucking at each other’s lips, inhaling one another’s breath as we pant, using and abusing our bodies.
A slow climb begins to build, and I’m delighted and surprised when I realize this guy might actually make me come.
I quicken my pace, and his thumb finds my clit, and I moan as he begins to circle it. That slow build coils tighter in my stomach as I realize I’m so close.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” he purrs against my palm. “Milk my cock like a good girl.”
I cover his smirking mouth with my hand, not letting him ruin the moment by talking. He bites down on it, eliciting a new sensation to spark through me. “I’m n-not”—my breath comes out jagged—“a g-good girl.”
His teeth dig in harder as he slams me down on his cock like a madman, over and over again, the slapping noise of my ass against his thighs echoing against the lapping water at my feet.
A guttural curse escapes him as a vein in his neck pulses, and his fingers dig into my hips. The moment he starts coming, it hits a spot at my core, feeling as if something is being ripped out of me. I scream, panting harshly as wave after wave of pure pleasure washes over me.
I ride the waves, a tender pain, contentment, and excitement rolling through me as the high of the night recedes like the tide.
I stare at the stranger in bewilderment, pulling back slightly as he continues to gently rock my hips back and forth. When I remove my hand from his mouth, I notice deep bite marks.
I flinch as he cups my face and then runs his thumbs along my cheekbones.
Then he holds a hand up between us and looks at his thumb. “I’ve never fucked a woman to the point of tears,” he says as he wipes my cheek again with his other hand.
My eyebrows furrow as my fingertips come to my face, and I feel the wetness.
What the fuck?
No, I was supposed to forget.
I stand up, swiping the vodka bottle from where it rests nearby. I'm covered in sand, but I don’t care about that. I just need to forget. I need to be alone. As I turn to walk away, his hand catches my wrist, and I look down on him.
