picking up speed and power with every shattering maneuver.
Fucking me. Driving me insane. Freeing me from the weight of the world one caress of his cock inside me at a time. This is what freedom feels like, but it’s all too much.
“Not like this,” I force the words from my throat, spinning out of my mouth like flying gravel on a dirt road.
He stops, but he’s still inside of me. “What’s wrong?” His eyes barrel down straight at me.
“I can’t do this.” I attempt to shake my head, but there’s not enough room to do so. “Not like this.”
“Okay.” He nods and takes a quick shallow breath before pulling his cock out of me, and shifting into his seat in a sitting position.
“That’s not what I meant.” I roll over onto my stomach with one quick, but clumsy maneuver. My feet knock against his face, but he deflects the blow with agile reflexes. I crane my head over my shoulder, where his feral eyes are already settled on mine. “Like this.”
He takes no time shuffling to his knees, his head propped against the ceiling. He’s too tall and too big for this to work in any sort of intimate setting, but nothing about this is intimate.
He lines his cock up against my pussy and drives in. I throw out a yelp contaminated with a moaning cry.
Missionary is intimate, too intimate.
The dirtier this feels, the more innocent it becomes. It’s sex and nothing more when I’m on my hands and knees. When I’m on my back, and he’s on top of me, watching me as he fucks me, that’s when the guilt settles in. I don’t want to feel guilt. I want to feel release.
He rocks into me with long, gentle thrusts at first, but before I can count to five, he digs his fingers into my hips and takes hold. Everything changes. He’s pounding from behind with reckless abandon. We fuck like animals, with one primal desire—release.
My head is thrown against the window with each knee-buckling thrust, and I can feel his fingers digging deeper and deeper under my skin in the same way I can feel his cock filling me to the hilt.
It’s not long before the world begins to spin, and everything in sight becomes muddled in a dark blur. Turbulence of the soul, that’s the only way to describe it. A quaking that builds from within the heart, and rushes through the bloodstream, hemorrhaging in all the right places until I let out a scream that steals my breath.
“Fuck,” I cry out as I push myself all the way back against his cock, reveling in the fullness as I begin to ache a beautiful ache. This is the point of no return. This is freedom. This is where I break, tightening around his impossibly hard shaft as I ride out my first man-served orgasm in over a year.
When it’s all too much, and I’m left drowning in my own release that I so desperately craved, I collapse onto my stomach, with my sweaty, clammy skin smothering the pillow beneath me. But he’s not finished yet. Not even close. He continues to fuck me from behind, his balls slapping against my ass as he buries himself deep within me time and time again.
I tilt my head over my shoulder to watch him work, sweat rolling down red cheeks and then dropping onto my back, sizzling against my sinful skin. His lips tremble and quiver, as he builds to his own release. His eyes bore down at his cock as he fucks himself deep into my wet cunt.
His entire body convulses and then goes rigid as he pulls his cock from my pussy, grips his hand tight around his balls, and rips the condom off his throbbing cock. Like a loaded gun, once he releases his grip, warm cum is shot against my face and upper back. His body shivers and shakes, and guttural moans are thrown from his throat as each shot of cum hits with less momentum and less range, until the last few spurts land hot upon the cheeks of my ass.
He stares me down with ravenous eyes before he collapses onto my back, pushing me deeper against the leather seat. His weight above me holds me down just when I think it’s about time to
Fucking me. Driving me insane. Freeing me from the weight of the world one caress of his cock inside me at a time. This is what freedom feels like, but it’s all too much.
“Not like this,” I force the words from my throat, spinning out of my mouth like flying gravel on a dirt road.
He stops, but he’s still inside of me. “What’s wrong?” His eyes barrel down straight at me.
“I can’t do this.” I attempt to shake my head, but there’s not enough room to do so. “Not like this.”
“Okay.” He nods and takes a quick shallow breath before pulling his cock out of me, and shifting into his seat in a sitting position.
“That’s not what I meant.” I roll over onto my stomach with one quick, but clumsy maneuver. My feet knock against his face, but he deflects the blow with agile reflexes. I crane my head over my shoulder, where his feral eyes are already settled on mine. “Like this.”
He takes no time shuffling to his knees, his head propped against the ceiling. He’s too tall and too big for this to work in any sort of intimate setting, but nothing about this is intimate.
He lines his cock up against my pussy and drives in. I throw out a yelp contaminated with a moaning cry.
Missionary is intimate, too intimate.
The dirtier this feels, the more innocent it becomes. It’s sex and nothing more when I’m on my hands and knees. When I’m on my back, and he’s on top of me, watching me as he fucks me, that’s when the guilt settles in. I don’t want to feel guilt. I want to feel release.
He rocks into me with long, gentle thrusts at first, but before I can count to five, he digs his fingers into my hips and takes hold. Everything changes. He’s pounding from behind with reckless abandon. We fuck like animals, with one primal desire—release.
My head is thrown against the window with each knee-buckling thrust, and I can feel his fingers digging deeper and deeper under my skin in the same way I can feel his cock filling me to the hilt.
It’s not long before the world begins to spin, and everything in sight becomes muddled in a dark blur. Turbulence of the soul, that’s the only way to describe it. A quaking that builds from within the heart, and rushes through the bloodstream, hemorrhaging in all the right places until I let out a scream that steals my breath.
“Fuck,” I cry out as I push myself all the way back against his cock, reveling in the fullness as I begin to ache a beautiful ache. This is the point of no return. This is freedom. This is where I break, tightening around his impossibly hard shaft as I ride out my first man-served orgasm in over a year.
When it’s all too much, and I’m left drowning in my own release that I so desperately craved, I collapse onto my stomach, with my sweaty, clammy skin smothering the pillow beneath me. But he’s not finished yet. Not even close. He continues to fuck me from behind, his balls slapping against my ass as he buries himself deep within me time and time again.
I tilt my head over my shoulder to watch him work, sweat rolling down red cheeks and then dropping onto my back, sizzling against my sinful skin. His lips tremble and quiver, as he builds to his own release. His eyes bore down at his cock as he fucks himself deep into my wet cunt.
His entire body convulses and then goes rigid as he pulls his cock from my pussy, grips his hand tight around his balls, and rips the condom off his throbbing cock. Like a loaded gun, once he releases his grip, warm cum is shot against my face and upper back. His body shivers and shakes, and guttural moans are thrown from his throat as each shot of cum hits with less momentum and less range, until the last few spurts land hot upon the cheeks of my ass.
He stares me down with ravenous eyes before he collapses onto my back, pushing me deeper against the leather seat. His weight above me holds me down just when I think it’s about time to
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