24. The “Talk” #2
She hesitates, then unties the sash, lets it fall to the floor. She’s nude underneath, not even a bra. Her body is all curves and flush, the nipples pink and already hard, the pale skin alive in the harsh light.
“Beautiful,” I growl. “Now sit on the stool,” I command, and she does, legs pressed tight together, arms crossed over her chest.
I adjust the lens, focus, and fire a test shot. The flash is cold and brutal, but her skin glows in it.
I start with the easy poses: sitting, standing, hands on knees, hands at her sides.
She tries to hide herself at first, but I don’t let her.
I move her arms, open her legs, showing off that pretty pink, and tilt her chin until she’s looking right into the barrel of the lens.
The more I work, the more she relaxes, her blush turning from fear to something like pride.
I snap a hundred pictures in ten minutes.
Her hair slips loose from the knot and falls around her face.
She starts to forget I’m there, the poses growing looser, more animal.
I catch her with her mouth parted, eyes closed, the wet pink of her tongue showing just a little as she cups those huge tits.
“Good,” I say. “Now bend over.”
She hesitates, but obeys. She leans forward, hands braced on the seat, ass high in the air. I take a dozen more shots, each one more explicit than the last. She’s soaked, the evidence clear in the bright light.
“Spread yourself,” I command, and to my satisfaction, Kayleigh doesn’t hesitate. She’s so comfortable with me that she does immediately, two fingers on each side of her labia, opening herself to the camera.
“Oh fuck,” I groan. “Shit, you’re gorgeous.”
She makes a noise, a whimper, but holds the pose.
I shoot until my memory card is full, then set the camera down.
She’s trembling on the stool, her hair wild, her skin marked with red from where the seat cut into her thighs.
I walk to her, cup her face in both hands, and kiss her hard. She melts, lips parting, and I feel the panic bleed out of her body.
I break the kiss, then grab her by the waist and turn her to face the mirror along the side wall.
“Look at yourself,” I say. “Look how sexy and beautiful you are.”
She does. She sees herself: flushed, lips swollen, eyes huge and dark. Her body is a study in contrasts—soft and innocent with those sloping shoulders and narrow waist, but utterly debauched with her large tits and slick pussy.
I grab the camera again and shoot her reflection, the image doubling in the glass.
Then I walk her to the low white sofa in the corner. I push her over the sofa arm so that her face is buried in the cushion, her feet dangling off the floor and kneel in back of her. Then, I pull her legs apart, and kiss up the inside of her thighs.
She whimpers, then arches her back, her eyes closed.
“Ahhhh!” is her muffled cry. “Oh oh oh!”
I tease her for a long minute, tongue just barely grazing her slit, before holding her cheeks wide open.
“Shit, you have such a slutty cunt and fuckable ass,” I rasp before dipping my tongue to lick her butthole. “Goddamn, you taste good.”
She wails, her rosebud clenching beneath my mouth before I lick her there again, making her shudder at the taboo touch. Slowly, I work a finger into her asshole, first one knuckle and then all the way in.
“Fuck,” I grind out. “Your butt’s sucking my finger in like it’s hungry. Is this what my little buttslut wants? To be fucked in the ass by a big cock while you scream? Your pussy’s sopping, you little fuckslut. Goddamn.”
Then, I lick her pussy again before popping my finger out of her asshole and standing to pull my own shirt off. My pants are gone in an instant, my cock hard and leaking. She stares at it, mesmerized.
“Cat got your tongue?” I rasp, blue eyes glinting while fisting the huge, veiny length.
“I … ah…” she stammers, still staring at my fuckrod.
“Don’t worry, it’s going in all the way right where you need it,” I growl before reaching over to the credenza, opening a drawer, and pulling out a bottle of lube.
She gasps again, eyes wide.
I coat my fingers, then smear it along the crack of her ass, working slowly, circling the tight ring with steady, even pressure.
She wriggles, but doesn’t say no. In fact, she’s breathing so fast I worry she might pass out.
I work a finger inside, then two, stretching her open. She cries out, then bites her lip to keep from making more noise. Slowly, I begin stirring my fingers in that tight butthole, first clockwise, and then counterclockwise.
“I have to loosen you, sweetheart,” I rasp. “Otherwise this pretty asshole is going to be all torn up and you won’t be able to sit.”
She moans, burying her face in the couch cushion as her pussy melts into my hand.
“You ever done this?” I ask, voice low. “You ever let a man take you here?”
She shakes her head, blonde hair sticking to her cheek.
“You know I haven’t,” she whispers raggedly, her face flushed with pleasure, butt high in the air. “You’re the first.”
A rush of possession surges through my veins again.
“Good, because you’re Daddy’s personal fuckdoll,” I say, and add more lube. “You belong to me.”
The statement hangs in the air, ringing with truth. Kayleigh moans again as I do one last scissor of my fingers within her asshole, and when I finally line myself up, she’s trembling, but her body is loose, and as ready as it can be.
I push in, slow at first, just the head. She gasps, then tenses, but I keep going, steady and relentless, until I’m buried to the hilt in her rectum.
She sobs out a single breath, and I pause, letting her adjust.
“You’re doing perfect,” I say, voice thick. “Beautiful, baby.”
She nods, tears streaking down her face, but her hands grip the cushions as her small body strains to accommodate my big one.
I fuck her slow, then fast, then slow again. The heat is insane, the tightness unbearable.
I narrate the whole thing, soft but clear. “You’re mine. This is my ass. My pussy. I’m never letting you go.”
“Yes,” she murmurs, her words muffled by sobs with her face pressed into the cushion.
“Louder,” I growl, pushing deep into her rectum again. “I want to hear it.”
“Yes,” she mewls helplessly. “Yes, yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I belong to you, Trevor!” she screams finally, her asshole clenching hard on my bursting cock. “Yes, I want this! Yes, I’m yours!”
Then, climax comes for us both. It hits me like a steam train, the air whooshing from my lungs as unbearable pleasure surges through my veins.
“Fuck!” I roar. “Oh shit!”
Hot reams of semen spurt into her spasming anus as Kayleigh sobs, pleasure shaking her curves in massive waves.
“Ohhhh!” she cries out. “Oh oh oh!”
Fuck, when has it ever been this good? I push into her again, ramming the full length of my cock into her anus as she takes it like a good girl, pinched against the sofa arm as I fill her creamy ass with gallons of male virility.
“Oooh!” she screams again, shuddering with the deep penetration. “Unnh!”
We moan and shiver, our pleasure like a tidal wave. Finally, the ecstasy ebbs a bit and she collapses onto the sofa, breathing like she’s just finished a marathon.
I pull slowly out of her asshole, watching with avid eyes as the huge, slippery monster exits inch by inch from that aching butt.
She’s open afterwards, with beautiful gape, and I watch for a few moments as her asshole flutters, almost like it’s breathing.
Then, I lean forward to kiss it, tasting her ass musk mixed with my sperm.
For a long time, neither of us speaks.
Finally, she looks up at me, eyes rimmed in red but alive. “Was I good?”
I smile, and kiss her forehead. “You were perfect.”
I help her stand, walk her to my room, and pour her a glass of cold water.
She drinks it in silence, then looks at me, shy and proud all at once.
“Are you really never letting me go?” she asks, voice thin and soft.
I reach out and touch her velvet of cheek, thumb tracing the soft skin.
“Never,” I say.
And I mean it.
The next morning, I wake to the sound of Kayleigh in the kitchen, humming as she brews coffee, wearing nothing but a loose t-shirt and panties.
She belongs here, with that tangle of blonde hair, innocent warmth, and trusting expression.
She adores me and has given me every part of her there is to have, and as I watch her from the doorway, that same dangerous warmth floods my chest.
I don’t care if it’s a cliché. I want this, and I want it forever.
And for the first time, I believe I might actually deserve it.