Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“This is slow? You’ve got a finger, you know—” I trail off, unable to say it out loud.
“I’ve got a finger buried deep inside your tight little cunt while my tongue and lips suck and lick your swollen clit. Is that what you meant?”
“Shit,” I whisper, cheeks bright red. But yeah, that was basically it.
He destroys me with his tongue. I’ve never experienced so much intense pleasure before in my life. Touching myself isn’t anywhere near what he can do with those fingers and that mouth. He’s a filthy monster, I’ll give him that, and he’s really, really good at what he does.
Pressure builds. I don’t know how much more I can take. I grin into his mouth, and he grins like he’s loving it. “You’re such a greedy girl,” he purrs, sliding another finger inside. I whinny and whine. “Look at you, such a little slut for me when you’re stripped down. Your pussy’s dripping honey on my tongue, and you’re moaning like you can’t control yourself. Tell me you like this, my little wife.”
“I love it,” I admit, because he’s completely right. My stiff embarrassment is slowly fading away, and I feel something else taking over.
Something carnal and dark. A hungry, deep need, one that has been throbbing inside me for years but one that I’ve always denied.
He attacks my pussy with his mouth and fingers. I grind into him, breasts shaking with every gasp. The pressure is so intense I feel it in my skull like my brain’s about to explode. I’m whispering his name, panting it over and over, and he’s right.
I’m a filthy fucking slut, and God, I love it.
I come on his mouth. The release is so intense my vision blurs, and I see stars. He keeps right on going, driving me wild, making the orgasm stretch and intensify until I can barely handle it anymore.
I collapse back, my body a puddle of aching lust.
“That’s a good girl,” he says as he comes up and kisses me.
I taste myself on him. It’s so fucking filthy. I drive myself into that kiss, burning for him.
If this is what it means to be his good girl, then that’s all I want in the world.
“More,” I moan, pulling his hair. “Give me more.”
“I knew you had this in you,” he says as he pulls back. I stare at him and get on all fours, waiting eagerly as he takes off his pants.
His cock is hard. So hard it throbs. His head is thick and engorged, and his shaft is massive and vein-studded. It looks like every dirty dream I’ve ever had, and I want it.
No, I need it in my mouth.
I lean forward eagerly, my mouth open. He growls as I grab him and guide his tip between my lips. I have no clue what I’m doing, but I’m going on pure instinct now. I suck him, sloppy and dumb, but moaning as I go. When I pull back, he’s looking at me with so much lust it’s overwhelming.
“On your back,” he says, “and spread your legs.”
My chest is pounding as I obey. “Like this?” I chew my lip, terrified and turned on. He kneels in front of me, then leans over, the head of his cock brushing against my soaking wet pussy.
“That’s my girl,” he says and kisses me.
I eagerly push myself into that kiss. I feel him teasing my pussy with his massive cock, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to destroy me.
But at this point, I don’t care.
“Tell me you want this,” he says, backing off. His massive arms are corded with muscle, and his face is hard and eager.
“Fuck me,” I beg and dig my fingers into his back. He’s shockingly well-built. It’s like every inch of him is hard as rock.
He presses himself against me, and slowly, he sinks inside.
“Oh, shit,” I say, back arching. It burns and hurts as he slowly fills me.
“That’s a good girl,” he whispers in my ear. “It’s okay, baby, nice and slow. You’re doing good.”
He fills me. Slowly, slowly, agonizing and aching, he feels me. I writhe under him, and he keeps whispering encouragements. Filthy, incredible encouragements. My brain’s a filthy puddle, and my body’s on the edge of shattering, and then he’s pulling back and plunging in again, going nice and slow.
I grind my hips.
It still hurts, but the more we move together, the more I feel something else.
Bliss. Pleasure. Want.
All swirling in my brain.
“That’s right,” he says, nipping at my lips and neck. “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re nice and wet and tight, baby, and you’re so eager. Even though you’re stretched wide, you’re doing so good.”
“I want more,” I beg, not even sure what I’m saying at this point. I’ve never felt so filthy and exposed in all my life. I’ve actively tried to avoid putting myself in compromising positions like this one, all in the vain and stupid belief that I could somehow keep hold of a pureness and a lightness.