Acosta’s hand came down on her ass. She yelped. Jesus, that stung. He reached between her legs, burrowing his fingers deep, prompting a moan from her tight throat. He chuckled. “Well, look here,” he taunted, holding his fingers up for her to see. “Baby wants to get her ass whipped. Hand me my belt, Seth. It’s time my Angel learned her place in a male-dominated society.” He caught the belt, folded it over twice, and swung.
Angelique hissed as the narrow belt connected with her bottom, scorching fiery lines of erotic pain across her tender flesh. Jesus, it hurt, but beyond the pain, she felt a familiar ache as her body clenched in anticipation. She remembered well how it had gone those many years before, what it’d felt like when they’d plundered her pussy; how her ass had quivered and burned when her tiny anal entrance was breached; the pressure of both men filling her; the way she’d begged and pleaded for them to fuck her, to make her come. She’d been sore for days afterward, but it had been the single most exciting sexual experience of her life, and it was about to happen again. Granted, only Acosta would take her now, but she remembered what it was like to have her ass fucked, and damned if she didn’t want it.
Over and over the belt bit into her bottom like streaks of fire. Acosta hadn’t been kidding. He intended to make an impression she wouldn’t forget. A particularly vicious lash slashed over a tender spot, and she cried out.
“That’s right, woman,” he said loudly, flinging the belt away. “When I want something, what do you do?” When she refused to respond, he gleefully attacked her bottom with the flat of his hand. “Who’s pussy is this, Angel?”
Again, she refused to answer. She’d be damned if her coworkers would hear her declare Acosta’s dominance over her. Another flurry of slaps had her sobbing.
“Say it, Angel. This is my pussy, and when I want it, you’re going to give it to me, aren’t you?”
Her ass was on fire, and her pussy was dripping. “Yes,” she hissed.
“And when I’m gone, you aren’t going to share my pussy with anybody else, are you?” His hand burrowed between her legs, fingers thrusting deep.
“Nooo…I swear it. Just you,” she sobbed. “Ah Christ, Mitch.”
He slid from beneath her then. “Get on your knees, woman,” he demanded, giving her another smack.
She was breathing hard as Mitch stepped up behind her. “First, I want a taste of this pussy; then this ass is mine. Boudreaux, out.”
Angelique gasped when Mitch stroked his work-roughened hands over the heated welts on her bottom. He caressed the swollen lips of her pussy, seeming to direct all that heat straight into her core.
“Uh-huh,” he said softly. “That’s what I like.” He palmed her sore bottom again and entered her with a hard, deep thrust. He didn’t give her a moment to adjust to his size but kept on pumping, fucking her hard, burying himself to the hilt with each thrust. “That’s right, honey; fuck yourself on my dick. Yeah, you love it.” She glanced over her shoulder at Mitch. He reached for the lubricant on the dressing table, and Angelique’s breath stuttered as he drizzled the heated oil over her and worked a finger inside her back opening. He slowed his pace, adding another finger, then another, stretching her bottom.
“Oh man, that’s hot. Watching my fingers fuck your ass while I take your pussy. I can’t wait to get inside this sweet little hole again, honey. You ready for me?” His voice was strained with the effort to keep control.
She wanted to scream No! at him, but she was ready. She wanted it more than she wanted to breathe right now. “Yes,” she hissed. “I want you to.”
Mitch laughed softly. “You do? Well, that’s good, Angel, because you’re going to get it whether you want it or not. Ask me nice, now. Say, ‘Fuck my ass, Mitch.’”
Angelique gritted her teeth. “Damn you, Acosta. Why would I beg
Angelique hissed as the narrow belt connected with her bottom, scorching fiery lines of erotic pain across her tender flesh. Jesus, it hurt, but beyond the pain, she felt a familiar ache as her body clenched in anticipation. She remembered well how it had gone those many years before, what it’d felt like when they’d plundered her pussy; how her ass had quivered and burned when her tiny anal entrance was breached; the pressure of both men filling her; the way she’d begged and pleaded for them to fuck her, to make her come. She’d been sore for days afterward, but it had been the single most exciting sexual experience of her life, and it was about to happen again. Granted, only Acosta would take her now, but she remembered what it was like to have her ass fucked, and damned if she didn’t want it.
Over and over the belt bit into her bottom like streaks of fire. Acosta hadn’t been kidding. He intended to make an impression she wouldn’t forget. A particularly vicious lash slashed over a tender spot, and she cried out.
“That’s right, woman,” he said loudly, flinging the belt away. “When I want something, what do you do?” When she refused to respond, he gleefully attacked her bottom with the flat of his hand. “Who’s pussy is this, Angel?”
Again, she refused to answer. She’d be damned if her coworkers would hear her declare Acosta’s dominance over her. Another flurry of slaps had her sobbing.
“Say it, Angel. This is my pussy, and when I want it, you’re going to give it to me, aren’t you?”
Her ass was on fire, and her pussy was dripping. “Yes,” she hissed.
“And when I’m gone, you aren’t going to share my pussy with anybody else, are you?” His hand burrowed between her legs, fingers thrusting deep.
“Nooo…I swear it. Just you,” she sobbed. “Ah Christ, Mitch.”
He slid from beneath her then. “Get on your knees, woman,” he demanded, giving her another smack.
She was breathing hard as Mitch stepped up behind her. “First, I want a taste of this pussy; then this ass is mine. Boudreaux, out.”
Angelique gasped when Mitch stroked his work-roughened hands over the heated welts on her bottom. He caressed the swollen lips of her pussy, seeming to direct all that heat straight into her core.
“Uh-huh,” he said softly. “That’s what I like.” He palmed her sore bottom again and entered her with a hard, deep thrust. He didn’t give her a moment to adjust to his size but kept on pumping, fucking her hard, burying himself to the hilt with each thrust. “That’s right, honey; fuck yourself on my dick. Yeah, you love it.” She glanced over her shoulder at Mitch. He reached for the lubricant on the dressing table, and Angelique’s breath stuttered as he drizzled the heated oil over her and worked a finger inside her back opening. He slowed his pace, adding another finger, then another, stretching her bottom.
“Oh man, that’s hot. Watching my fingers fuck your ass while I take your pussy. I can’t wait to get inside this sweet little hole again, honey. You ready for me?” His voice was strained with the effort to keep control.
She wanted to scream No! at him, but she was ready. She wanted it more than she wanted to breathe right now. “Yes,” she hissed. “I want you to.”
Mitch laughed softly. “You do? Well, that’s good, Angel, because you’re going to get it whether you want it or not. Ask me nice, now. Say, ‘Fuck my ass, Mitch.’”
Angelique gritted her teeth. “Damn you, Acosta. Why would I beg
Similar Books
