She’s thick in the waist, thighs squeezing together where half the girls I’ve slept with spend hours in the gym each week to mould the perfect gap. She’s also got a bush straight from a seventies’ centrefold, and there’s a weird stirring of desire at the unfamiliar sight. I’ve never seen an ungroomed pussy before. I can’t resist stirring those messy curls with my fingers, running my thumb along the centre line until her lips part, rubbing my fingers against her to feel the slickness.
And I don’t usually bother with niceties; that’s not what I’m paying for, but once I’ve touched her, I can’t stop, going back for another feel, and another. My finger pushes further, rubbing inside her folds as I lay beside her, watching her reaction as she squeezes her eyes closed, biting so deeply into her lower lip that I wince in sympathetic pain.
“You’re doing so well,” I whisper, curling one arm under her body, around her shoulders so I can pull her towards me, myother still rubbing against the tender wetness of her inner flesh, feeling the muscles beginning to jump and contract as I find a steady rhythm. “Doesn’t that feel good?”
Her head is entirely still, then she shakes it, making me laugh and bend closer to whisper in her ear, “You’re such a liar. Don’t you think I can’t feel how excited you are?”
And because her refusal to agree is like issuing a challenge, I bend my lips to her tits, rolling my tongue over her hardening nipple, then blowing gently over the raising peak.
“I suppose you want me to believe that feels terrible, too,” I murmur, enjoying this tease of pleasure as much as I enjoyed her resistance.
My mouth sucks a reddened line along her throat, finding all the bumps and hollows. I rub my stubble against the pale skin of her breasts, moving from one to the other, careful to avoid rubbing too close to her tight nipples, then closing my lips around one until it softens in my mouth.
It’s all too much, too good; an overdose of pleasure. I’m half lying on top of her when I feel her thighs jerk and clench, harder than before. With my finger stroking from her entrance all the way to her swollen clit, I enjoy the way the muscles flutter but force myself to pull away.
I want her to orgasm with me inside her. I want her to clench and fight to hide her moans as I wring the same enjoyment from her body as I expect her tight cunt to wring from mine.
“Oh,” I laugh as a broken sob squeezes from her mouth. “Don’t worry. If you just stay quiet and still like I know you want to, I’ll let you have what you deserve.”
Instead of my finger, I take my cock in hand and rub it between her legs, stimulating us both.
Her eyes widen again, and her arms move, her lips part.
We’re nearly at the last part of the script. The bit where we’re still playacting. The final scene before we get to the satisfaction of good plain fucking.
One last scene. And she’s such a talented actress I can read the hesitation warring with need in her eyes as I roll on top of her, propping myself on one arm as I get in position.
She shakes her head, scrunching her eyes closed like if she shuts out the world the monster under the bed won’t find her.
Such a good actress. I could play out the same script with this girl for weeks, for months, for years to come and never grow tired of a single second.
“You’re the one who came into my bedroom uninvited,” I whisper, rejoicing in the flinch as the words land. “Don’t pretend this isn’t exactly what you wanted.”
And the tears flow for real now, copious tears, so many they make her chest convulse with the force of her sobs, each one feeding my arousal. Tears until her face is shiny with them, until her hairline is wet with them. Until her nose is bright red, eyelids swollen, and a wail squeezes from her throat.
Each sniffle, gasp, and moan inflates my desire. My body begs me to fuck her right away before I lose control.
I slide inside her. Slowly. So slowly.
Even if I wanted to move faster, I couldn’t. She’s that fucking tight.
I pause when I’ve barely got an inch inside her, pinning her wrists above her head so she doesn’t forget to keep them there, watching her head whip to the side as she strains to get away.
Her lower lip wobbles, her nostrils pinch together. Emotion floods every centimetre of her face, a constantly updating canvas showing me insights that should be hidden deep inside her head, instead paraded before my eyes as she tilts her chin, her eyes seeking help from the ceiling, the wall beside her, finding nothing.
Nothing except my gaze devouring every slight change in expression, lapping them like I finally have to lap at her tears as I sink another inch deeper and her body flinches at the invasion.
I bend my head to whisper into her ear, “Does that hurt? Is my cock too big for your tiny, little body?”
Her internal muscles squeeze so tightly, my mind blanks out for a split second, the entire world turning bright white.
“Relax,” I tell her, biting at the tender skin of her throat when she doesn’t immediately obey the instruction. “Push against me,” I order, putting more authority into my voice and that works, that works a treat. That works until with a tilt of my hips and a long slow shove, I’m fully buried inside her.
And I pause there, closing my eyes as I absorb every sensation that floods my body. Too many to tangle the individual threads apart.
When I can’t resist a moment longer, I pull back, groaning as her walls cling to me, dragging against me, the friction like wet satin. Then I push forward, thrusting into her again until I’m buried to the hilt, until she makes a soft cry in the back of her throat that sounds close to a plea, that echoes like angels crying in heaven.
Even moving slowly, the tight clench of her cunt around me drives me insane, propelling me towards the edge faster than usual. Twin needs grip me, tearing me in opposite directions.
