18 Aubie #3
He moves over me and lowers his cock to my hole. “Why do you have to say the filthiest things?”
“Pillow talk, baby. Now fuck me.”
He’s tentative at first, like he’s afraid he’ll hurt me, and that just won’t do. I want him unhinged. I want to meet his beast.
“Fuck me hard,” I snarl. “Don’t hold back.”
To drive home the point, I wrap my legs around his ass and trap him against me. That’s when he does exactly what I need him to do.
“This doesn’t mean I don’t hate you.”
“Mmm,” I moan. “Take it out on me. Make me pay for every time I piss you off.”
He growls against my neck and ups the pace, his movements frantic. Bordering on violent. And I’m here for it. Never knew I had a masochistic kink, but he’s uncovering all kinds of things I didn’t know about myself. Who knew fucking could be so educational?
He may not realize he’s doing it, but every downstroke pings my prostate, sending me into toe-curling delirium. “Baby, you’re fucking me so good,” I gasp.
“Shut up.”
I grin to myself, determined to feed his anger. To fuel his hatred. The madder he gets, the harder he fucks me.
“Ah yeah, fuck me good, baby.”
He bites down, gnawing angrily on my neck. Probably giving me a hickey I’ll gladly show off, especially when I’m on stage. Hopefully he’ll see it. Know he did that while he was buried deep inside me. Give me more of that adorable blush.
I wiggle my hips and trail my hands down his back to squeeze his luscious ass. “So biteable.”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“Only when there’s a cock stuffed in my mouth, but if you’re up for the challenge, you can give it a try.”
As an added encouragement, I grab his hips and ride him like the starved slut I am while my tongue does all sorts of filthy things to his neck. His ear. His mouth. I could lick his body from head to toe and never get enough.
This level of obsession can’t be healthy. I’m setting myself up for some epic soul searching after this, but I can’t seem to care right now. All I can think about is all his goods. How good he feels. How good he smells. How good he tastes.
I can feel my cock surging toward release and I try to distract myself with frivolous thoughts, but nothing works.
More than I’ve ever been, I’m a hundred percent invested in this.
Totally in the moment. I’m not ready for it to end, especially since it’ll probably be my one and only shot at this man. I have to make it count.
Cutter seems to be of the same mind, because his thrusts have become more desperate.
More savage. And he’s making the most erotic noises he probably isn’t even aware of.
I know he’d deny it if I said anything. The moist slap of our bodies coming together provides a filthy underscore to his delicious moans.
“Fuck, Aubie,” he grunts as his body stiffens. “I’m coming…”
The sound of my name on his lips drives me straight to the edge as I feel my ass grow warm, making me regret the condom. I’d love to feel his release running down my leg.
Despite all my efforts to the contrary, I follow right behind him, decorating his chest and mine with my cum.
We lie there in silence for several minutes while our heartbeats return to normal.
My neck is kinked up against the back of the couch, but I don’t dare say anything.
I’ll gladly stay here all night if it means keeping his cock buried in my ass.
But all too soon the cum swoon ends and Asshole Cutter makes an appearance.
“I, uh…” He looks down at the mess I made between us. “I need to, uh…”
I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice when I reply, “You know where the bathroom is.”
He peels himself off me and stands, a bit unsteadily at first. I can take pride in that. Even with the condom still wrapped around his deflating dick, he’s still fuckworthy as hell. I watch his ass as he walks away, regretting that I didn’t get a chance to feast on it.
In retrospect, there’s a lot I wish I had done while I had him here, but damn, I couldn’t help myself. He was suddenly in front of me, looking like that, with that body and those lips and that voice and all that scent and skin and hair, and, well, I lost control of the situation.
Doubt I’ll get a mulligan.
One and done. I promised it, and he seems adamant about adhering to it.
Ordinarily that would be just fine. Exactly the way I like it.
Ordinarily.
I’m starting to realize there isn’t anything ordinary about this. That’s the kind of thinking that can lead to insanity, so I need to shut that down right now.
No seconds, remember?
I hear the bathroom door open and sit forward on the couch, savoring the raw ache in my ass. When he appears, he’s holding a wet washcloth. He tosses it to me and starts gathering his clothes. I watch him while I clean myself up, half of me hoping he’ll decide to postpone leaving.
And do what? Cuddle on the couch while watching romcoms? Get a grip on yourself, Aubie. You’re not that guy. He’s just a fuck. One of a hundred.
So why doesn’t it feel like that? Why does it feel like I’m losing something?
Why can’t I just put him out of my head?
Why am I getting emotional when I don’t do emotions?