9. #2
"I said *look* at her," Richard roared, the sudden, violent anger in his voice vibrating through his thighs.
Tyler jerked his head up, terrified, his eyes locking back onto me.
"Keep going, Sloane," Richard ordered, his hand finally coming down to rest on the back of my head. His fingers tangled in my blonde hair, his grip firm and possessive.
I went back to work. I sucked him harder, faster, fueled by a confusing mix of adrenaline and arousal. I was degrading myself in front of Tyler, but Richard’s unapologetic dominance was doing something to me.
His breathing grew heavier. His grip on my hair tightened, guiding me, controlling the depth. He wasn't gentle, not at all. This was a man used to getting everything he wanted, and he used my mouth that way, setting a punishing pace.
"That's it," he said, his cock swelling to its absolute maximum limit, filling my mouth completely. "Open your throat. Take it all down."
I knew exactly what he wanted. I tilted my head back, opening my jaw as wide as it would go, offering my throat to him.
He grabbed my head with both hands, his fingers digging possessively into my scalp, and shoved his hips forward with brutal force.
I took the hit, swallowing his massive thickness past my soft palate, leaning into the glorious, stretching pain of it as my eyes watered.
"Swallow it," he told me as he hit the point of no return. “Swallow it all, Sloane.”
The first jet of his cum hit my tonsils with the force of a fire hose. It was scalding hot, incredibly thick, and voluminous. I gasped, a muffled, desperate sound around his shaft, and reflexively swallowed.
"Take it," he panted, pulsing again, shooting more of his heavy seed into my throat.
I gulped, forcing the thick, bitter fluid down.
He didn't pull out. He held me pinned to his crotch, emptying himself completely, making sure I took every single drop of his load.
I swallowed again and again, tears streaming down my face, the reality of what I was doing hitting me with sickening clarity.
I was choking on a stranger's cum while my boyfriend—ex boyfriend—cried in the corner.
Finally, his hips stopped twitching. He released his grip on my hair.
I pulled back, gasping for air, a thick string of white saliva connecting my lips to his softening tip. I wiped my mouth with the back of my trembling hand, chest heaving, staring up at him.
Richard looked down at me, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He didn't zip up his pants. He was still half hard.
"Get up," he told me, his voice returning to its calm, authoritative baseline. "You are not done yet."
I pushed myself up from the rug, my knees weak and shaky. My jaw ached, and the back of my throat was raw and stinging from the force of his climax. The metallic, bitter taste of his cum coated my tongue.
I stood before him, completely naked, my body trembling slightly. Richard remained on the sofa, his cock still exposed, slick and half-hard, resting heavily against his thigh. He looked at me, his gaze sweeping over my flushed skin and tear-streaked face with a look of satisfaction
"Turn around," he said. “Check out the view from the top of the world.”
I turned, my back to him, facing the vast, glittering expanse of the Los Angeles skyline. The city lights spread out beneath me like a carpet of fallen stars. In any other circumstance, it would have been beautiful. Right now, it just made me feel incredibly small.
"OK, now straddle me," Richard said.
I turned back around. He wanted me to get on top. Wanted me to fuck him. Wanted Tyler to watch me lower myself onto another man's cock.
I looked over at Tyler. He had his head down again, but I could see his shoulders shaking. He was broken.
I stepped over Richard's legs and straddled his lap, my bare thighs pressing against the fine wool of his trousers. The fabric was scratchy against my sensitive skin. I could feel the heat radiating from his groin.
He didn't help me. He didn't guide me. His hands rested casually on the sofa cushions on either side of my hips, leaving the work entirely up to me.
"Well?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.
I reached down with a trembling hand, my fingers brushing against his thigh. I took his heavy, semi-erect cock and guided the slick, blunt head to my entrance. I was soaking wet. My pussy throbbed with a desperate, aching need.
I took a deep, shuddering breath and lowered myself.
He slid inside me and I gasped, my head falling back as he filled me. Only half hard, he was still just as thick as Tyler, but he felt different. He felt heavier. Denser.
I sat there for a moment, impaled on his lap as his cock grew to its full size inside me, my body trying to adjust to the overwhelming fullness of him.
I looked down. I could see his dark, thick shaft disappearing into my own pale flesh, the coarse black hair at his base mingling with my shaved blonde mound.
"You were built for this, Sloane," Richard murmured, his voice a low vibration that traveled up through his cock and into the deepest part of me.
He grabbed my hips. "Now ride me," he said. "Ride me until you come."
I started to move. At first, my motions were hesitant, awkward. I felt clumsy, exposed. But Richard's hands guided me, establishing a rhythm. He tilted my hips forward, then pulled me back, forcing me to grind down on his shaft, his pubic bone pressing hard against my aching clit with every stroke.
A sharp, coiling heat started to build deep in my belly. My body, numb with terror a second ago, was suddenly throbbing with a sick, desperate heat. My breath came in short, sharp gasps. My nipples hardened into aching peaks.
"Look at Tyler, Sloane," Richard said.
I forced my eyes open. I looked over at the corner. Tyler was watching now, his face a mask of pure, abject misery. He was watching me ride another man, watching my breasts bounce, watching my face contort with a pleasure he had only ever seen me fake.
"That's it," Richard said, his hips starting to thrust upward now, meeting my downward grind. "Let him see you coming on my dick."
The shame of it, the sheer, brazen humiliation of being used as a tool to torture my own boyfriend, was the final ingredient my pussy needed.
The orgasm slammed into me without warning.
My pussy clamped down on his cock so hard he let out a sharp hiss of breath. My spine arched, my head thrown back, I struggled to bite down on a scream.
"Oh god!" I cried out, my hips grinding down on him in a frantic, unstoppable rhythm.
I came so hard I saw stars, the glittering lights of the city outside the window blurring into a single, brilliant smear. I was completely lost. He had turned me into a mindless animal seeking nothing but more of his cock.
And that was exactly what I was going to get.
Because Richard didn't let me recover. He just kept thrusting upward into me, his powerful hips driving him deep, stoking the fire, pushing me right back toward the edge.
"Again," he said, his hands digging into my hips.
And this time I did scream as a second orgasm crashed down over me, even more intense than the first had been.
My body, I thought, was no longer my own.
Richard Davies was the one at the controls.
I was weeping openly now, tears of shame and pleasure streaming down my face, not even caring that Tyler was watching me completely fall apart.
Body trembling with the aftershocks of my orgasms, I collapsed against his chest, my cheek against his crisp white shirt, soaking it with sweat and tears. I was well and truly fucked. My mind was a buzzing void.
But Richard was only getting started with me.
He grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me up.
"Get off me," he said.
I pulled myself off his rock-hard cock and slid off his lap, my legs shaking so violently I almost stumbled. I stood naked in front of him, my pussy throbbing and leaking.
He stood up, towering over me. He hadn’t seemed so tall before. His cock stood straight up from his unzipped trousers, an angry, purple pillar of dominance.
He grabbed my arm, spun me around, and shoved me face-first onto the rug.
I scrambled on my hands and knees, trying to find my balance, but he didn't give me the chance. He grabbed my hips and pulled me backward until my ass was pressed against his thighs.
When I looked up, my blood ran cold. I was facing the corner now. I was staring directly at Tyler.
"Perfect view," Richard murmured from behind me. A phrase with two meanings.
He grabbed the meat of my ass cheeks with both hands, hauled them apart, and drove his thick cock into my soaking slit, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal, agonizing thrust.
I shrieked as he bottomed out in me. A cry of shock and pure, stretching pain.
He was as thick as any cock I had ever known, and the angle he’d chosen pushed him deeper inside my pussy than I had ever felt before.
He bottomed out with a brutal thud that rattled my ribs and knocked the breath out of me.
He started to pound me.
It was the most savage, relentless fucking I had ever experienced. He pulled almost completely out, the head of his cock dragging and pulling against me, and then drove himself back in to the hilt with terrifying force.
Again, and again, and again.
I couldn't close my eyes. I was trapped, staring straight ahead at my worthless ex-boyfriend. Tyler was sobbing openly now, his face buried in his hands, unable to watch.
"Look at her, you little coward!" Richard said. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. "Open your eyes and look at what you’ve lost!"
Tyler lifted his head. His face was a mask of absolute misery.
I stared at him and my pussy clamped down on Richard's thick shaft, my body, my cunt, responding to the power of the man taking me.
Richard's open palm came down hard on my right ass cheek.
I cried out, the sharp sting of the slap sending a jolt of electricity straight to my clit.