Chapter 24 #4
I bend lower and wait.
“Spread your legs, Betty.”
I spread and then feel him come right up behind me, and with the head of his cock, he strokes my entire length, letting my arousal drench him.
“So wet. So fucking wet for me.”
With his other hand, he palms my ass and then, to my surprise, spanks me.
“Oh God,” I cry out as he smooths his hand over the sensitive area.
He strokes me again with the head of his cock, relaxing me, and then spanks me again, sending a jolt of lust through me this time and causing me to moan.
I surprise myself with the sound, but when he strokes me one more time with the tip of his cock, I need another spank, and he delivers, this one a touch harder.
“Yes, Atlas,” I cry out and then feel him bend over me, his chest to my back as he speaks softly into my ear.
“It’s taking everything in my goddamn body not to bend you over my knee and spank you until you come. You hear me? Everything.”
I wet my lips and nod.
“That will happen. Not tonight, but it fucking will.”
And then he lifts up and takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs. He starts stroking himself, using my arousal as his lubrication.
“Come here,” he says, holding his hand out.
I take his hand and allow him to pull me to his lap, where I straddle his legs, his cock between us.
He runs his hand up my side and to my breast where he gently plays with my nipple, making me even more wet, even more needy. “I want you to take control. Fill yourself up on your time. Tell me what you need. Got it?”
I nod.
“I have protection in my wallet. Do you want it?”
I bite on my bottom lip and shake my head. “I want you bare.”
His chest heaves a little harder as he nods. “Your choice.”
“I want you . . . bare, Atlas.”
“Then have me,” he says as he positions his cock for me.
I sit up on my knees and tilt to the side so I can find the right angle to have him enter me. And because he’s so long, I have to take a couple of inches at first. My mouth falls open in surprise from the feel of him, the initial sink causing me to squeeze around him tightly.
The muttered curses falling out of Atlas’s mouth are the greatest things I’ve ever heard.
“Fuck, so tight. So goddamn tight. Jesus Christ,” he says, placing his hands behind his head and breathing heavily.
I rest my hands on his shoulders and lower another inch.
“Motherfucker,” he says, his stomach hollowing, his neck straining.
I move down another inch, and he’s practically panting now.
The sight of him holding back, slipping inside me, it’s such a turn-on, making it easier to slide down on him until I’m fully seated, bottomed out, so full that I feel like I might burst.
“Oh God,” I say, my fingers digging into his skin. “Oh fuck, Atlas.”
“Jesus Christ.” He takes a few deep breaths, and when his eyes connect with mine, they’re dazed, hazy, like he’s in another world and unable to focus. “Fuck, baby, stop . . . stop squeezing.”
“I can’t,” I say, contracting around him. “You’re so big.”
“I know, but I’ll . . . Fuck, Betty. I’ll come too fast. Please stop squeezing.”
“I can’t,” I say as I shift, causing him to groan even louder.
“Fuck.” His hands fall to my sides, and he lifts me up ever so slightly and pushes me back down, the feeling of him bottoming out again hitting me in a spot I’ve never felt before and sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
“Yes, Atlas.” I lift up, replicating the movement and slamming down. “Oh God, it feels so good.”
He groans again, not doing much, just letting me take control. But I don’t like it. I want to feel possessed by him. I want to feel him lose control.
So I lean forward and press my mouth to his ear as I say, “Fill me with your cum.”
It triggers something inside him, because he lifts me off the couch, still inside me, and lays me down on the rug, shoving the coffee table to the side and spreading my legs wide.
“Eyes on me, got it? Don’t fucking close them.”
I do as he says, and with his hand pressing down on my abdomen, making the pressure of him inside me that much stronger, he starts to move in and out.
It’s slow at first, testing me, but then I grip his ass, encouraging him to let loose.
Pulling nearly all the way out, he slams back into me, and I swear, I can taste him in my throat as he does it over and over and over again.
Stretching me.
Making me breathless.
He’s creating such a fullness inside me while hitting my G-spot that I start to unravel, my orgasm at the base of my spine, building and building.
“This fucking cunt,” he growls. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”
I feel him grow tense, his body shifting, pumping faster, relentlessly, until everything starts to fade to black. My body tingles, and I can’t hold off anymore as I tip over the edge, my orgasm rocketing through me.
“Atlas, oh fuck, yes,” I scream as I come all over his cock.
“Motherfucker,” he grinds out as I contract around him. He punches the ground, stills, and then comes hard, his cock swelling before he fills me up. He bows his head, takes a few deep breaths, and then mutters, “Jesus Christ.”
Slowly, his eyes part open, and when they fix on me, a look of disbelief crosses his expression.
Catching my breath, I bring my hand to his cheek and let my thumb caress his scruff. He leans down and lightly kisses me while we come off the high of our orgasms. After a prolonged moment of our mouths matching up, he pulls away and slowly removes himself, leaving me feeling so empty.
“Wait right here,” he says and then stands from the floor, his cock still erect as he walks to the bathroom.
I drape my arm over my eyes and try to hold back my smile, but it’s nearly impossible because, oh my God, that was easily the best experience of my entire life.
How is it possible that I’ve gone this long without experiencing a true orgasm, one that takes over my body and rocks every inch of it?
How?
I hear him in the bathroom using the sink, and I consider joining him, but he told me to stay, so I do.
I wait for him, thinking back to all the other guys I’ve been with and how lackluster those experiences feel now.
And not just because Atlas is clearly bigger than all of them but because of the connection I feel with him.
Because of the undeniable attraction. Because of how well we fit together.
He comes back into the living room and surprises me as he takes a warm washcloth that he must have found in my cabinet and helps me clean up. Then he lifts me up off the ground and carries me to the bathroom.
He sets me down, grips my chin possessively, his thumb angling my lips up, and he kisses me one more time before shutting the door to give me some privacy.
I lean against it, catching my breath and telling myself that this is the real deal.
There’s nothing fake about the way we feel for each other, and there is no way I’ll let Uncle Dwight ruin this. No, we have to find a way to make this all work, because I can’t give him up.
I won’t.