that, but couldn’t for too long. She thrust one soft, wide-rimmed nipple into my mouth almost immediately.
“What do you like, baby?” she purred.
I moaned a little, sucking harder on her nipple.
One cool hand scratched through my hair, coming to a stop at the back of my neck. She squeezed. “Tell me,” she demanded, her grip uncomfortably tight. She had amazingly strong hands.
I broke away from the kiss, and looked up at her, embarrassment showing.
“I… I like to be told what to do,” I admitted. “I like to feel nails and teeth all over my body. I like to feel… um, raped, kind of.”
“Had a feeling,” she nodded, looking not at all surprised. Maybe it was my extra cash or my red face. Whatever gave me away, my dark kink didn’t phase her for a second.
“Take off your clothes,” she said. Her lips were pouty and red – an incredibly sensual combination – but I could see in her eyes that she was bored by this routine. How many guys wanted her to slap them around then fuck them, like they were little boys being Mrs. Robinson-ed, to climax? I didn’t want to know.
I did as she commanded, my heart skipping a beat as I slid out of my jeans. My cock bobbed out of my underwear like a lazy dog’s tail, and she grabbed me by its head. Not the most comfortable leash I’ve ever been on.
“Let’s go back here.” She pulled me, hard, to the bed in the back of the van, and pushed me down on the thin mattress.
“So you like it rough, huh? We can do that. Get on your hands and knees.”
I rolled over, presenting my ass to her. She promptly met it with the palm of her hand. “I think you need to warm up a bit before we start anything.”
I cried out at the next slap of her hand, reveling at the heat building in my ass and groin and spreading through my chest. My arms began to tremble.
“Roll over,” she commanded, and I did. My view of the world darkened as she straddled my face and bent to lick my belly.
“Eat,” she said, her voice growing throaty now. Maybe I was turning her on a little, even if it was only business. That made me glad – I liked to actually be friends with the company I kept on holidays. I could jack myself off anytime I wanted. Without human connection, that’s all this would be – glorified masturbation. I wanted something a little deeper than that.
I felt teeth suddenly gripping my cock, and I cried out, the sound smothered in the musky, slick muzzle she held me in.
I bit back, and a tremor ran down her thighs. Her teeth moved up and down, scraping me painfully, and my desire grew.
Her nails began raking my ribs, and I twisted in that weird mix of masochistic pleasure and pain beneath her. I slapped at her ass, and she bit me back, harder. I must have screamed.
I was worried she’d broken the tender skin of my cock, but worry quickly slipped away. Fear was taking its place. I suddenly felt trapped, helpless. And her actions grew more violent. Her nails felt like tiny razors, slicing hard at my skin. I could picture tissue-thin strips of skin rolling off my body. I tried to push her off of me. I was getting scared, even as my penis grew harder. Don’t they say that a man’s cock is often at its hardest right after death?
This was too much, I couldn’t handle it.
But her legs locked around my face, her nether lips seemed to loosen and kiss me deeper. My cock was engorged and powerful, thrusting on its own into the toothy heaven of her mouth. And just as I was ready to throw her from me with all my might, she released me, and came up to stare into my eyes.
“Now I’m going to fuck you,” she announced. “Don’t try to get away.”
She sat down on me, and I could feel the sore spots on my cock where she’d chewed me. If I survived this little adventure, I was going to be walking funny tomorrow. But right then, those raw spots only made the pressure she was exerting unbearably hot. She raked at my chest with her nails, and now I saw them as claws, digging
“What do you like, baby?” she purred.
I moaned a little, sucking harder on her nipple.
One cool hand scratched through my hair, coming to a stop at the back of my neck. She squeezed. “Tell me,” she demanded, her grip uncomfortably tight. She had amazingly strong hands.
I broke away from the kiss, and looked up at her, embarrassment showing.
“I… I like to be told what to do,” I admitted. “I like to feel nails and teeth all over my body. I like to feel… um, raped, kind of.”
“Had a feeling,” she nodded, looking not at all surprised. Maybe it was my extra cash or my red face. Whatever gave me away, my dark kink didn’t phase her for a second.
“Take off your clothes,” she said. Her lips were pouty and red – an incredibly sensual combination – but I could see in her eyes that she was bored by this routine. How many guys wanted her to slap them around then fuck them, like they were little boys being Mrs. Robinson-ed, to climax? I didn’t want to know.
I did as she commanded, my heart skipping a beat as I slid out of my jeans. My cock bobbed out of my underwear like a lazy dog’s tail, and she grabbed me by its head. Not the most comfortable leash I’ve ever been on.
“Let’s go back here.” She pulled me, hard, to the bed in the back of the van, and pushed me down on the thin mattress.
“So you like it rough, huh? We can do that. Get on your hands and knees.”
I rolled over, presenting my ass to her. She promptly met it with the palm of her hand. “I think you need to warm up a bit before we start anything.”
I cried out at the next slap of her hand, reveling at the heat building in my ass and groin and spreading through my chest. My arms began to tremble.
“Roll over,” she commanded, and I did. My view of the world darkened as she straddled my face and bent to lick my belly.
“Eat,” she said, her voice growing throaty now. Maybe I was turning her on a little, even if it was only business. That made me glad – I liked to actually be friends with the company I kept on holidays. I could jack myself off anytime I wanted. Without human connection, that’s all this would be – glorified masturbation. I wanted something a little deeper than that.
I felt teeth suddenly gripping my cock, and I cried out, the sound smothered in the musky, slick muzzle she held me in.
I bit back, and a tremor ran down her thighs. Her teeth moved up and down, scraping me painfully, and my desire grew.
Her nails began raking my ribs, and I twisted in that weird mix of masochistic pleasure and pain beneath her. I slapped at her ass, and she bit me back, harder. I must have screamed.
I was worried she’d broken the tender skin of my cock, but worry quickly slipped away. Fear was taking its place. I suddenly felt trapped, helpless. And her actions grew more violent. Her nails felt like tiny razors, slicing hard at my skin. I could picture tissue-thin strips of skin rolling off my body. I tried to push her off of me. I was getting scared, even as my penis grew harder. Don’t they say that a man’s cock is often at its hardest right after death?
This was too much, I couldn’t handle it.
But her legs locked around my face, her nether lips seemed to loosen and kiss me deeper. My cock was engorged and powerful, thrusting on its own into the toothy heaven of her mouth. And just as I was ready to throw her from me with all my might, she released me, and came up to stare into my eyes.
“Now I’m going to fuck you,” she announced. “Don’t try to get away.”
She sat down on me, and I could feel the sore spots on my cock where she’d chewed me. If I survived this little adventure, I was going to be walking funny tomorrow. But right then, those raw spots only made the pressure she was exerting unbearably hot. She raked at my chest with her nails, and now I saw them as claws, digging
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