trying to accommodate him makes my jaw ache.
Lucky me, he’s in the mood to be gentle. He lets me suck hard on the tip, and he doesn’t try to feed me too much.
Then I feel another cock pressing into the side of my cheek, which is plumped full with Romeo’s gently thrusting tool.
Romeo slowly pulls back, like he’s planning to let another man take a turn, but when just the tip is tugging on my lips, he presses forward again with a guttural groan.
For all his masterful control in business and in daily life, he can’t tear himself away from my sucking lips. It makes me almost woozy.
I might be submissive to these men in every way: money, looks, influence, education, breeding… But their desire for me is power.
(I try not to think about how easily they stayed away for three weeks.)
Finally, Romeo yields to Hawthorne, who turns my head his direction and rams in deep, like there’s a bullseye at the bottom of my esophagus and he’ll win a prize for hitting it.
His cock is thick and veiny, and he punishes my mouth enthusiastically. He’s large—all three men are well above average—but he isn’t limited by having a monstrously oversized dick like Romeo’s. He almost seems to be making up for Romeo’s relative gentleness by trying to break me.
My moans are staccato, and as he thrusts, the wood of the table underneath my back squeaks ever so slightly.
He slams his cock in deep and holds me on his base, my mouth pressed against his body, my nose smushed between his upper leg and the cool skin of his balls.
“Such a good little cocksucker,” he says. He pinches my nipples freely, the fabric of my shirt caressing my skin as his jerking makes my breasts wobble. “Such an obliging little whore.”
I’m not a whore , I try to say, but it’s impossible because my mouth is stuffed full of angry Hawthorne cock. The irony isn’t lost on me.
“Were you trying to say something, my little slut?” His voice is almost tender, and it’s clear that talking dirty like this turns him on.
Too bad. I don’t like being called a whore. Well, not by him. Romeo and Slade can call me anything they want—the more degrading, the hotter.
But this is Hawthorne, and I hate him, and I resent how helplessly turned on I am when he smiles that arrogant smile and orders me around.
I consider biting his cock.
As my jaws begin to tighten on his shaft, he twists my nipple hard. “Someone fill her pussy,” he says. “The little slut needs more dick in her.”
What he said is true, but he’s a jerk.
No more playing. I bite him.
Chapter 8
Hawthorne pulls away, his expression shocked and his eyes flashing; I definitely have his attention now.
I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth and glower at him. “I’m not a whore.”
“You are if I say you are,” he says, but he’s so busy inspecting his dick for damage that it seriously undermines his point.
That’s all I get to see before Slade is sliding his fingers into my mouth. “No biting,” he says lightly as he pushes inside of me.
He holds my mouth open as he rocks in and out. This is new to me. It’s hot. I trust Slade. He might not go the extra mile for me like Romeo does, but I always know where I stand with him.
So I don’t mind that he’s got my jaw forced open.
The downside is that I’m drooling… It’s embarrassing. But I’m too turned on to do anything about it.
“Oh yeah,” he murmurs. He gathers up a handful of my hair and uses it to pull my head farther back. “Such a beauty, Lindsay. You have no idea how the three of us have talked about the night we shared you.”
“Slade.” Hawthorne says just the one word, delivered in a tone of warning.
Slade’s reaction is a deep, satisfied laugh that turns into a groan as his hips swing faster.
He stops, starts, then pulls out. His fingers remain in my mouth.
His cock glistens, and he’s nice and red; I can see exactly how far I was able to take him.
Only
Lucky me, he’s in the mood to be gentle. He lets me suck hard on the tip, and he doesn’t try to feed me too much.
Then I feel another cock pressing into the side of my cheek, which is plumped full with Romeo’s gently thrusting tool.
Romeo slowly pulls back, like he’s planning to let another man take a turn, but when just the tip is tugging on my lips, he presses forward again with a guttural groan.
For all his masterful control in business and in daily life, he can’t tear himself away from my sucking lips. It makes me almost woozy.
I might be submissive to these men in every way: money, looks, influence, education, breeding… But their desire for me is power.
(I try not to think about how easily they stayed away for three weeks.)
Finally, Romeo yields to Hawthorne, who turns my head his direction and rams in deep, like there’s a bullseye at the bottom of my esophagus and he’ll win a prize for hitting it.
His cock is thick and veiny, and he punishes my mouth enthusiastically. He’s large—all three men are well above average—but he isn’t limited by having a monstrously oversized dick like Romeo’s. He almost seems to be making up for Romeo’s relative gentleness by trying to break me.
My moans are staccato, and as he thrusts, the wood of the table underneath my back squeaks ever so slightly.
He slams his cock in deep and holds me on his base, my mouth pressed against his body, my nose smushed between his upper leg and the cool skin of his balls.
“Such a good little cocksucker,” he says. He pinches my nipples freely, the fabric of my shirt caressing my skin as his jerking makes my breasts wobble. “Such an obliging little whore.”
I’m not a whore , I try to say, but it’s impossible because my mouth is stuffed full of angry Hawthorne cock. The irony isn’t lost on me.
“Were you trying to say something, my little slut?” His voice is almost tender, and it’s clear that talking dirty like this turns him on.
Too bad. I don’t like being called a whore. Well, not by him. Romeo and Slade can call me anything they want—the more degrading, the hotter.
But this is Hawthorne, and I hate him, and I resent how helplessly turned on I am when he smiles that arrogant smile and orders me around.
I consider biting his cock.
As my jaws begin to tighten on his shaft, he twists my nipple hard. “Someone fill her pussy,” he says. “The little slut needs more dick in her.”
What he said is true, but he’s a jerk.
No more playing. I bite him.
Chapter 8
Hawthorne pulls away, his expression shocked and his eyes flashing; I definitely have his attention now.
I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth and glower at him. “I’m not a whore.”
“You are if I say you are,” he says, but he’s so busy inspecting his dick for damage that it seriously undermines his point.
That’s all I get to see before Slade is sliding his fingers into my mouth. “No biting,” he says lightly as he pushes inside of me.
He holds my mouth open as he rocks in and out. This is new to me. It’s hot. I trust Slade. He might not go the extra mile for me like Romeo does, but I always know where I stand with him.
So I don’t mind that he’s got my jaw forced open.
The downside is that I’m drooling… It’s embarrassing. But I’m too turned on to do anything about it.
“Oh yeah,” he murmurs. He gathers up a handful of my hair and uses it to pull my head farther back. “Such a beauty, Lindsay. You have no idea how the three of us have talked about the night we shared you.”
“Slade.” Hawthorne says just the one word, delivered in a tone of warning.
Slade’s reaction is a deep, satisfied laugh that turns into a groan as his hips swing faster.
He stops, starts, then pulls out. His fingers remain in my mouth.
His cock glistens, and he’s nice and red; I can see exactly how far I was able to take him.
Only
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