8. Micah
Red. Yellow. Green.
Those are the only words I can keep in my head as my third orgasm rolls through me, making my knees buckle.
The last time he checked in with me, I sobbed green and came for him without his fingers anywhere near my pussy. All he did was spank me while whispering how much of a good slut I was, and that was the only thing I needed to unravel.
But his fingers are back, massaging my walls and coaxing pleasure out of me I don’t think I have to give.
“Three,” I whisper hoarsely, back arched. My throat has no more sounds to give and my thighs are so slick with my completion, I feel filthy.
Satisfied but filthy.
I’m already a limp mess in this graveyard and I still haven’t had his dick inside of me.
On my knees, I try to crawl away from him but he captures me with ease, pulling me back by my waist and pumping his thick fingers in a “come here” motion inside my warm heat.
He’s on his knees too, keeping me close while he drives me past my breaking point.
I can’t even think about the tear tracks staining my face without more tears falling.
What is this man doing to me and why am I letting him?
All the while he works me over and I can’t shake the feeling that he knows my body better than I do. Like he’s memorized every part of me in preparation for this moment, even though I know it’s impossible.
“This pussy needed my attention, huh, pet?” he asks, almost reverently. “That’s why you keep coming for me?”
“Y-yess,” I moan.
“I wish you could see yourself right now; you look so damn pathetic on your knees for me.” His fingers push deeper. “Such a perfect little slut letting me use you like this.”
“I c-can’t. I can’t come any more.” My voice breaks around the words and so does my will to run from him.
“Why my fingers so wet then?” He fucks into me harder. “You want this shit. Stop playing with me.”
Knees in the dirt and a thousand immoral thoughts running through my head, I push myself up and let my eyes roll back when I feel yet another wave of pleasure descending on me.
“Give me a color, pet.”
“Green.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs before I hear soft rustling behind me. One minute he’s pulling his fingers out of me and in the next, the head of his dick is nudging me. “You on birth control?”
“Yes,” I answer brokenly.
“You want this dick?”
“Yes.” I’m nodding as my mouth hangs open. Turned the fuck out in a graveyard and the last thing I feel is shame. “Please give it to me.”
“You gon come for me if I give it to you or you gon run from me?”
He shoves an inch inside me, stopping abruptly.
“Tell me you not gone run from me, slut.”
“I’m not,” I promise, winding my hips. “I’m gonna take it like a good girl.”
“Fuck.”
One word and one thrust. He slams home until his heavy balls smack my pussy and I can’t think. Can hardly breathe. It feels so good. So fucking good I’d start crying if I wasn’t already.
It’s been so long since a man stretched me like this, my cunt sucks him in like he’s always supposed to be inside of me.
This is what I needed. What I’ve been craving.
A dick so thick it shuts me the hell up and makes me grateful I get to exist on the same timeline as him. If only to experience this moment.
A hand settles on my lower back, deepening my arch while he pounds into me.
I do what he wants, following his commands—even the silent ones.
Oh, God.
I’m getting fucked in a graveyard by a stranger.
I’m getting fucked in a graveyard by a stranger whose face I’ve never seen.
I’m getting fucked in a graveyard by a stranger whose name I don’t know.
And it feels like bliss.
I don’t care about anything but coming for him. His heavy dick hurts so good, I’m already on the edge. And when his palm lands on my ass in a resounding slap, that’s exactly what I do.
“Four,” I manage past my shuddered breaths. The dark night swallows my cries while amplifying his guttural groans.
“Your pussy is so fucking good.” Thrust . “Feel like I need this shit.” Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Each one harder than the last. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”
Words don’t form after that and we don’t need them. He fucks me, deep and hard in this graveyard, and mentally, I thank him for every second of it.
Each brutal thrust brings me back to my sanity.
Each slap against my skin makes me feel alive again.
And every time he slows to stop himself from coming too soon, a rush of adrenaline surges through me.
That must be why my sixth orgasm is the hardest. Right after the man behind me comes on my ass before pushing back in, my brain rewires itself without my permission.
What kind of stamina ? His cum is warm against my skin but he’s not going soft. In fact, he’s fucking me harder than before. Deeper than before.
I cry out, choking on the word six as black edges out my vision. My fifth orgasm was subtle. A quiet but shaking release that I took in stride while he kept fucking me. But this…this feels different and my breaths start chasing each other.
I can’t hold myself up anymore, collapsing on the ground the same time, “Yellow!” rushes past my lips in a slur.