“You said I owed you.” I licked my lips.
“You said you always paid your debts.”
“Always.”
I heard the zip hit every tooth as he undid his jeans, spellbound while he pushed the material to the floor. His cock sprang free, hard and thick and long. It looked angry, needy.
I trailed my eyes up Tommy’s body just as he had mine and closed the rest of the gap, my hand automatically grasping his dick, running my hand up and down the silk on steel.
The kiss this time was nothing like before. There was no tenderness or softness. This was when we would start to lose ourselves and become slaves to carnality. He held the back of my head with both hands, roughly feasting on my mouth before pushing me down to my knees.
The rug was thick, plush, but it could’ve been hard wooden boards for all I cared. I took his cock into my mouth, sucking on its head, feeling his fingers pulling gently at my hair.
I’d given blow jobs before. It was a given at some parties when I was younger that there wouldn’t just be a kiss, or rather that kiss would move lower down. It was a prelude to something more as an adult, rather than an ending, only this was different.
The men I’d been with before were arty. They didn’t have the build Tommy did; they spoke more, dressed differently, worked in offices or studios. They didn't mix cocktails and look at me like they wanted to eat me for dinner and I wished they had now.
I took more of him in my mouth, holding the base with my fist. He was big and my lips had to stretch, but the whisper of pain that stretch gave was bringing more wetness to between my legs, where I throbbed and felt empty.
His fingers gripped and softly pulled, his words guttural and dirty. I moved a hand to between my legs, spreading the wetness to my clit, desperate for some relief.
Tommy pulled me up off him without grace and walked me backwards onto the bed.
My hands moved over his chest, taking what I knew he’d let me have, because there was no question about who now had control.
I lay flat on the bed, the cotton sheets soft underneath, the man looming over me hard and rough. He used a knee to spread my legs further, then put a hand between my legs, fingering me without any tease.
I nearly came right then. My moan was loud and needy, my pussy starting to clench just before he withdrew.
The feeling of emptiness didn’t last long. Tommy entered me full and fast, giving no time to adjust, not that I needed or wanted it. It was hard, the pace fast and so, so good.
It burned and hurt, creating stars and pleasure and heat and need. Our bodies had fused together, taking from each other whatever was being given.
Tommy pulled out of me, making me cry out and grapple with him. Without warning, he flipped me onto my stomach, pulling up my hips and then he started to fuck me from behind, making the bed groan and the frame squeak.
His fingers dug into my hips every time he pulled me closer into his thrust. I lifted my head and saw the long wall mirror; he’d angled us so that he could see him fucking me in the reflection, my tits bouncing as he thrust harder into me. I looked small and slight in front of him, his broad shoulders behind him, his darker skin contrasting with my pale body.
“Do you like watching me fuck you?” One of his hands had threaded into my hair again, he wound it around his fingers, pulling my head up. Like seeing how I fuck your pussy?”
“Yes.” I just about gasped the word.
His thrusts became hard and slow, my whole body tingling. My nipples were hardened points and I could feel my orgasm building fast.
“Your pussy is so fucking tight, and so fucking wet. Never thought it would feel…”
I didn’t hear his last word, my body was too busy convulsing, his hand the only thing really holding me up as my knees lost their strength and my forehead rested on the mattress. I vibrated from him, the shocks carrying on.
My orgasm drove him to move faster, seeking his own release. He followed me soon, his cock swelling harder just before he exploded inside me, the pulse triggering an aftershock that was more of a second orgasm.
His head rested on my shoulder, his breath warm and fast. I could feel his heart pounding against my back, the thud of it reassuring, as was his hand that was stroking my arm.
Tommy moved to the side, his arm rearranging me so I was closer against him. I’d expected him to have left the bed by now, to have taken the paid debt and be putting his jeans on.
I turned to face him, his hand shifting to still make contact.
“I thought you’d be leaving now.”
He didn’t smile. Didn’t move. “Do you want me to go?”
