Page 24

I was a total mess, crying, drooling, and choking, but my cock had never been harder. The humiliation, the roughness, the overwhelming feeling of being utterly used... it was everything I’ve been terrified to crave since high school.

George’s breathing grew ragged. His thrusts lost their rhythm as he chased the edge of his own pleasure.

“Gonna cum down your throat,” he warned, his voice rough and breathless. “You’re going to swallow every single drop like a good boy. ¿Comprendes, Santiago?”

I managed a weak, teary, “Yes, Sir,” around his length.

With a deep, guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt one last time. His cock pulsed violently as thick, hot ropes of cum flooded my throat. I choked and swallowed frantically, struggling to take it all, some of it leaking from the corners of my mouth. He kept me pinned tightly against his pelvis, forcing me to milk every last drop until he finally pulled back, breathing hard.

I slumped forward onto the floor, gasping and coughing as cum and spit dripped from my swollen lips onto the hardwood. My own cock was aching, bright red and leaking, standing on the absolute edge without a single touch.

George tilted my chin up with his fingers, his voice rough but strangely tender.

“Color?”

“Green... Sir,” I rasped, my voice completely wrecked.

He offered a dark, satisfied smile, his thumb brushing away a tear from my cheek and tracing my wet mouth.

“Good boy. You took that so fucking beautifully. Now crawl to the couch. We’re nowhere near done with you tonight.”

I stayed on my knees for a second, still dazed, the fluids dripping from my chin onto my chest. My throat felt raw, every swallow a reminder of his size. My cock throbbed angrily between my legs, leaking a steady string of pre-cum onto the floor.

“Crawl,” George repeated, his voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly calm command. “Don’t make me say it twice, or you don’t get to come tonight.”

Humiliation burned through my veins, but my body obeyed before my pride could stop it. I dropped forward onto my hands and knees. The hardwood was cold against my palms and shins as I crawled toward the wide leather couch, my ass up, my cock swinging heavy and untouched beneath me. I could feel his eyes on me the entire way, devouring the sight of my exposed frame.

When I reached the couch, he grabbed me by the hair and hauled me up roughly, bending me over the wide armrest. My chest was pressed flat against the cool leather, my ass presented high for him. The position left me completely vulnerable. My legs spread, hole exposed, my leaking cock trapped painfully against the side of the cushions.

George’s large hand smoothed over my ass, squeezing one cheek hard enough to leave a mark before delivering a sharp, stinging slap. I jerked, a sharp gasp tearing from my throat.

“Color?” he asked.

“Green, Sir,” I panted.

He spanked me again, harder this time, the loud crack of his palm echoing through the small cabin. Then again. And again. Each strike sent white-hot heat blooming across my skin until my skin was burning and flushed a deep crimson. Every slap made my cock twitch and leak more, the pain bleeding seamlessly into desperate pleasure.

“Fuck, look at this greedy hole,” he growled, spreading my cheeks wide with both hands. “Twitching already. You need me inside you that badly?”

“Ummmhh,” I whimpered, pressing my face into the leather cushion, too ashamed to give him an answer.

His fingers traced my entrance, teasing the sensitive rim before one thick finger pushed inside without warning.

“Ahhhh,” I moaned loudly at the sudden, blunt stretch. He worked it in and out, then added a second, scissoring me open with rough, practiced strokes.

“Hummnhh,” I whimpered. The burn was intense, but it only made me push back against his hand like a whore, begging for the friction.

“Listen to you,” he mocked, curling his fingers deeply against my prostate. “Moaning like a desperate slut. All that fight earlier on campus, and now you’re fucking yourself on my fingers.”

He added a third finger, stretching me wider, pumping them deep and fast until my legs were shaking. My cock rubbed against the leather with every thrust of his hand, driving me closer to the edge without an ounce of mercy.

“Please...” I gasped, my voice completely wrecked.

“Please what?” He twisted his fingers cruelly, hitting that exact spot again. “Use your words, boy.”

“Please fuck me, Sir,” I begged, tears of frustration and blinding need pricking my eyes.

George pulled his fingers out abruptly, leaving me completely empty and clenching. I heard him spit, then felt the blunt, thick head of his cock pressing directly against my hole. He was still rock-hard, even after coming down my throat. My legs buckled.