7. Are We Happy With The New Pastor? #2
I’m not prepared for how much I like his dirty talk.
The words hit me in the gut, and my knees nearly buckle.
I let out a stupid, breathy laugh, but he’s already on his knees, sliding my shorts and panties down in a single, practiced move.
The cool air hits me and I flinch, but he cups my ass and pulls me forward, burying his face between my legs before I can even remember what embarrassment is.
“Oh!” I cry out as hot jolts of pleasure surge in my cunt. “Mmmm, yes!”
He growls and eats me out with a brutality that feels nothing like the soft-focus fantasies I’ve had about this.
It’s fast, messy, and so overwhelming that I’m clawing at his hair before I realize what I’m doing.
His tongue flicks, circles, licks my clit, his hands gripping my thighs so hard I’m sure I’ll bruise.
“Goddamn, you’re fucking soaked,” he rasps. “This cunt needs a good fucking by a big dick, doesn’t it? Do you need Daddy’s big dick deep in your vag, sweetheart?”
I’m delirious now, cupping my tits as he sucks my clit again. He moans into me, like he’s tasting something he’s been denied for years. I try to stay quiet, but the noises that come out of me are unrecognizable—high, gasping, half-sobs that I couldn’t fake if I tried.
“Oh god, Hunter, yes! Lick my clitty! Suck it, suck it! Ooooh, that feels so good!”
I come fast. Too fast. The orgasm rips through me like a snapped cable, and I half-collapse onto his shoulder, nails digging into his scalp. He doesn’t stop until I push him away, weak and trembling.
He stands, his mouth slick, and looks down at me with pure, unfiltered hunger.
“I want to see you naked,” he says.
I laugh, shaky and bright, and unhook my bra, tossing it onto the floor.
I don’t even bother to cover myself, not with the way he’s looking at me—like I’m the only thing in the world.
He strips down, tossing his shirt and pants onto the chair, then drops his boxers.
His cock is absolutely massive, and pulsing with pure fuckpower.
It’s thick, veined, angry-looking, and already leaking pre-cum.
I stare, open-mouthed, my mouth watering. Can I even handle that size in my tiny pussy?
Hunter reads my mind and smirks.
“Still want it?” he asks.
Instead of answering, I climb onto the bed, lying back against the pillows, legs spread just enough to invite him in.
He climbs on top, positioning himself over me, arms braced on either side of my head.
His chest is so close I could lick the tattoo over his heart if I craned my neck.
For a moment, he just looks at me, eyes searching.
I think he’s looking for a way out—a sign of fear, or regret. But I’m not afraid. Not even a little.
He presses in, slow and forceful, pushing through my hymen until he’s all the way inside. I don’t know if he notices because we’re both delirious, but I gasp—he’s so huge, and the stretch is a bright, impossible ache—but I grit my teeth and take it.
“Unnnh,” I moan. “My pussy’s too small, Daddy. You’re making it hurt.”
He stops for a moment, letting me adjust.
“You’re young, baby girl,” he rasps. “The young ones always stretch, and you have a slutty cunt that’s perfect for hard, filthy fucks and deep penetration. Just relax.”
He starts to move, slow at first, then faster. With every thrust, he drops his mouth to my ear, saying things so rancid I can barely process them.
“Good girl,” he growls. “Take it. Take all of it. You fucking love being filled with my big cock.”
I moan, louder than I mean to. The rhythm is so intense, so relentless, that I lose track of everything but the feel of him inside me.
“Unnnh,” I moan, holding my knees back so he can get in deeper. “Ooooh.”
He speeds up, pounding harder, and the dirty talk escalates.
“You’re such a little tease. Bet you dream about getting fucked by a huge cock every night. Bet you wish I’d fucked you sooner, don’t you, sweet girl?”
I nod, desperate, and he laughs in my ear. “Tell me,” he says, “tell me you’re my little whore.”
“I’m your whore,” I say, voice breaking.
“That’s right,” he growls. “You’re my slut. My dirty fucking slut who loves being fucked in all her holes.”
He grabs my wrists, pins them above my head, and fucks me so hard the headboard knocks against the wall. I’m gone—completely gone, riding wave after wave as I come, seeing white behind my eyelids.
“Ohhhh!” I scream, my vag squeezing around him before dissolving into a series of violent shudders. “Mmmm!”
“Fuck!” he roars, that massive cock erupting inside my virgin cunt. “Oh shit shit shit, here it comes!”
Hot reams of sperm spurt into my wetness, my pussy milking him as we cry out, our voices twining in ecstasy. He feels so good, and my pussy is stretched so wide, but I know this is how it should be.
“Oooh more!” I cry as he continues to ejaculate hot juices inside my pussy. “Mmm!”
Hunter finishes with a grunt, buried as deep as possible, cock pulsing the last dribbles of virile semen into my just-fucked pussy. The sensation is obscene, thick, hot, so intense I nearly pass out.
He stays there for a moment, holding himself up on his elbows, breathing hard. Sweat drips from his forehead onto my neck before he leans to press a kiss to my swollen lips.
“You okay?” he asks, breathless.
I nod, dizzy and raw. “Yeah. I’m… yeah.”
He pulls out slowly, watching his massive rod reappear from my ravaged folds before bending down and pressing a worshipful kiss to my clit. Then, he rolls to the side and tugs me against his chest. We lie like that, bodies tangled, listening to the sound of our own breathing.
For a long time, neither of us says anything.
Finally, he breaks the silence. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”
The question is gentle, not accusing. I turn my face into his chest, mortified. “I was embarrassed. I mean, no one’s a virgin at twenty-two these days.”
He shakes his head, stroking my hair. “I thought you were some kind of party girl though. You certainly give that impression.”
I laugh, muffled by his skin. “That’s just a schtick. The short skirts, the sexy talk, the naughty innuendos. Makes people think I have it together.”
He considers this. “So who’s the real you, Stella?”
I think about it. “I don’t know yet. But I liked this.”
He kisses the top of my head. “So did I.”
We lie there until the lamp goes out, the room plunged into true dark.
The next morning is a mess of contradictions: the warmth of the sun on my face, the stickiness between my thighs, the way my whole body aches in a way I never knew was possible.
I wake before Hunter, which is a surprise—I thought billionaires were programmed to rise with the stock market.
He lies sprawled on his back, arm draped over his eyes, chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths.