Billie #2
He pushes the handle inside me. The girth is less than his cock but the hardness is unforgiving. My inner walls grip and I feel every ridge, every contour his hands carved into this weapon that's turned into something else.
"Look at that." He sounds almost drunk. "Taking Pawpaw's knife in your little cunt." He pushes it deeper, in and out, fucking me with it and I arch off the bed. "Wonder what your daddy would think if he could see where his little girl's got it now?"
I moan knowing at this point, all my dignity is left in the mud outside.
The knife handle glides in and out. In and out, the handle slick with me, the blade glinting between his careful fingers every time he withdraws.
The danger and the edge of it are their own kind of high. One slip and he'd cut me. In an ironic twist, I trust him to keep me safe. But, the possibility alone has me clenching so hard my vision whites out.
He pulls the handle free and lifts it between us. It shines with my arousal. A thin streak of his blood still visible on the grip. He brings it to his mouth and licks it clean, his tongue dragging over the glinting surface, and the sound he makes is pure, guttural satisfaction.
"Open." He nods to my lips, lowering the slick handle to my mouth. "Suck it."
He slides the handle between my lips and I taste myself and his. I suck it clean because he's watching me and his cock is leaking onto my thigh and I want him to see what I'll do for him. What I'll put in my mouth. What I'll swallow.
"My girl." He pulls the handle from my lips, my body feels like it's on fire and sets the knife aside. "My dirty, filthy, beautiful girl. You do understand how much I love you, don't you, baby? Pawpaw loves you so much."
He shifts his body, lowering himself over me, his hips positioned between my spread thighs and the blunt, fat head of his cock pushes against my opening and I whimper.
My inner muscles clench instantly and I stop trying to figure out if I want this or hate it. Or both.
"Pawpaw, wait—"
He doesn't wait. He thrusts into me in one brutal, feral thrust.
The stretch is immediate and perfect. He's so thick that my body resists him for the first inch, my walls clamping down, and he groans through his teeth and keeps pushing.
"Jesus Christ." His hands grip my hips, fingers digging in. "What a tiny little cunt. Taking Pawpaw's fat cock like a good girl. Does it hurt, baby?"
"Yes, Pawpaw. Wait, please—"
I pant as he feeds me more. Every inch is a negotiation between my body and his. He pushes, I stretch, the burn crests and fades and crests again.
It hurts. It's incredible. I'm too full and I need more and I can't reconcile those two things but my pussy doesn't care about reconciliation. It wants what it wants.
"Too big. Too big." I mutter and wiggle and gasp, and my wrists twist against the belt.
"Too much for my little girl?" He pulls back a few inches and slams forward, burying himself deeper, and I scream. "Tell Pawpaw if it's too much."
"It's too much."
He does it again. Harder. "Doesn't sound like you want me to stop though. Your pussy's telling the truth again while your lips tell lies."
He's right. My legs are wrapped around his waist. I don't remember deciding to do that, but they're locked behind him, my heels digging into the small of his back, pulling him deeper.
He sets a pace that's punishing my insides with long, deep strokes that bottom out against my cervix on every thrust. He grunts and I puff. The air leaving my lungs with every punch of his cock into my belly.
The bed frame slams the wall. The belt digs into my wrists. His body covers mine completely, his chest against my breasts, his breath hot on my neck, as he fucks and bucks and grunts his need into me.
"Every time I sit across from your father," he growls against my ear, his hips pump, pump, pumping, "I think about this.
What his little girl's pussy would feel like if I ever got my dick inside her.
Now I know, it's fucking tight and men would sign their lives away for a piece of this ass.
" He drives in deep and holds himself there, my opening burning and my body bursting with the pressure of everything he's forcing inside me.
"I wondered if you'd cry when I'd fuck you.
" Another thrust. "How it would sound when you called me Pawpaw while I'm inside you. "
I come. I'm done.
It tears through me. No build up, just explosion. Blackness takes my vision and my heart and my inner muscles clamp around his cock so hard he curses and grabs the headboard.
"Fuck — that's it. Squeeze Pawpaw's cock, baby. Squeeeeze it."
The orgasm hasn't finished when the next one starts. He shifts his angle, hooking my leg higher, and the head of his cock drags across a spot inside me that turns me inside out.
I come again — rolling, vicious, my whole-body clenching as a string of curse words tumbles from my lips as I spasm and spit and turn into a boneless vessel of his pleasure.
"Keep squeezing." He's sweating now, his chest slick against mine. "I want to feel that cunt milk all the seed from my balls."
A third orgasm claws its way from my center and complies with his command.
This one is sharper, his fingers finding my clit and circling it while he fucks me with those same relentless strokes. I'm sobbing. Chest heaving, face soaked and he licks the tears off my cheeks and hums with perverted satisfaction.
"Kiss Pawpaw." His lips hover over mine. "Show me you can give me a big girl kiss. Use your tongue like we see in the movies we watch."
God, I squeeze my eyes shut when his lips connect to mine. The scruff covering his face rasps on mine as the full, warmth of his lips move against me and he forces his tongue through my lips and I push mine forward to meet his.