“My high school graduation party at the Hilton. You probably don’t remember, but you came…and left within thirty minutes.” She smiled.
“When was this party?”
“Four years ago.”
I cracked her open, exposed things she’d have kept to herself. Yes, I was a dick about it, manipulating her desperate situation, even the words that came out of her mouth with rapid interrogation-style questioning, a tactic I’d learned from a former FBI agent.
With the addition of the way I teased her with an impending climax and the promise of that brief hit of euphoria only an orgasm could bring, I made her tell me she had crushed on me for the past four years. By now, that was no longer a childish infatuation. It had likely grown into something I’d call obsession.
And I would be worthy of being obsessed over. Besides, I bet she dreamed of this moment and the things I’d do to her, so I had expectations to fulfill. I slammed my mouth over hers and made her open up so I could suck on her tongue and flick it with mine to show her how I was gonna eat her little jewel.
I bet that was a virgin pussy. Gonna break that hymen and make it bleed all over my face.
I hauled her up and threw her onto my bed. She bounced on the bed, a little frightened, a little excited. I read her feelings on her face and in her body. Learning how to read people was how I’d survived this many years, seventeen, to be exact, when Dad decided to hand me the reins.
Legs spread, little pink hole peeking between little lips, Lana stared at me, blue eyes filled with expectation. Yeah, I was gonna deliver. In a bit. But first, the essentials.
I unsnapped the buttons of my white shirt. “I am going to fuck you and put a baby inside you. How long till you graduate?”
As I removed my shirt, I lifted an eyebrow. I didn’t rush her answer. She was a thinker like me, someone who didn’t have mouth-vomit issues. I could appreciate that, and God knew I was patient. I unsnapped my belt.
“One more year.”
“You’ll finish it online in six months.”
“If possible,” she said.
“You’ll study harder and make it possible.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“And you will marry me.”
She laughed. “Yes, Boss.”
“I’m already happy for us.” I folded my belt. “Grab your ankles. This is gonna sting.”
Lana spread her legs and held on to her ankles. I swung the belt. Not too hard, not too soft, just right. Leather slapped over her folds. She screamed and, lo and behold, let go of her ankles and lifted her butt. If you didn’t know what I knew, you’d think she was in pain.
If you knew what I knew, you’d know this pain was welcome. I battered her folds until they appeared red and swollen and sensitive, then I knelt at the foot of the bed, yanked her ankles, and pulled her to me.
Swollen jewel in my face, I blew on it to cool it off.
Moans sounded, and Lana touched herself with her fingers, spreading her folds and showing me her little hole. “I’m a virgin.”
I didn’t know if she expected me to see the hymen, but wouldn’t it be nice if I could? I parted her pussy lips and lo and behold a thin membrane appeared. Alleluia. I felt like Lucifer must feel when he came upon a secret place he would defile forever and ever. Amen.
“This pussy better bleed in my face.” I swiped my tongue over the sweet place, then slapped her hands so she’d remove them. Iput mine in their place and spread her thighs so wide, she did a split. Russian girls and gymnastics was a given. They curved like cherry stems.
Pleased, I licked from the little pucker hole all the way to the clit, then back and up again, long, slow, lazy strokes with my thick tongue, spreading saliva all over her so when I stuck three thick fingers into her they’d go in easier. I pushed them inside, then out, seeing a streak of red on the forefinger. “There we are.”
Her virgin blood on my finger, I drew a line over my cheekbone. War paint. Then I sucked my fingers and then her pussy, making it leak for me and give me something to eat.
Yeah, I was dirty.
I bet that was an expectation I fulfilled. No girl came at the Mafia boss and expected flowers and candy. They expected a thick dick filled with the promise of violence and dominance, and if they got flowers and candy instead, they’d run in the other direction.
Lana didn’t fall for a nice boy with a brown briefcase, khaki pants, and a tie. She fell for me. I didn’t wear khakis.
