“I…”
Damn. I bite my lip. I do want to taste him. But it felt so good when he came in me last night—I’d forgotten what that felt like, fucking like this. Raw, as he put it.
Grant doesn’t wait for me to answer. He keeps going, picking up the pace, fucking me on all fours. At the same time, he reaches between my legs with his free hand and presses his thumb to my clit. I cry out, unable to contain it. My clit is already aching for release, turned on as hell from sucking his cock. It feels swollen, like ripe fruit between my thighs begging for him to pluck it.
“Fuck,” I hiss, as the building pleasure distracts me.
“Going to have to decide soon,” he says, stroking my clit in time with his thrusts now, driving me wild. His cock is so thick that it presses against my inner walls, and with each thrust, his head grazes my G-spot, makes my pussy clench tight and my body quiver as I build toward an orgasm.
He stops stroking me, right as I’m nearing the edge, and I shout in protest.
“Tell me where you want me to come, and then you can come,” Grant says, his voice steady, infuriatingly so, as he continues to fuck me at the same steady, grinding pace.
“My mouth,” I gasp. “I want you to come in my mouth.”
His finger returns to my clit, and I scream wordlessly as the orgasm hits me almost instantly. My pussy tightens, convulses around his cock, and he drives into me faster, his muscles taut, his hands hard on my hips, fucking me as I finish, his cock sliding over my G-spot again and again to keep me at my peak.
Finally, I sink toward the sheets, gasping. But without warning, Grant pulls out of me. My pussy tightens again, feeling empty without him. He doesn’t give me time to think about it, though, as he rolls me over on the bed. The blindfold falls off, but I don’t care—I’m grateful for the sight of him above me, his eyes dark with lust, his mouth a hard line as he holds his cock erect between us, wet with my juices.
“Suck my cock clean, Sasha,” he growls, and I scramble upright to obey him, all too eager.
The taste of myself mixed with him is intoxicating. I lick and suck at his tip, but I don’t have much time. He grabs my head with both hands, pulls me closer, his cock sliding deeper into my throat as he comes with a loud cry, guttural and animal with lust. I swallow hard, taking as much of him as I can, savoring his flavor, his taste, the white-hot rush of him.
When he finally pulls back, his hands trembling, I sit up and grab his face, pull him to me in another deep kiss. His tongue slips into my mouth again, and I know he can taste our flavors too, the combination of us, the scent of our sex heavy in the air.
When we part, we’re both breathing hard, our faces flushed, bodies damp with sweat. And we’re both grinning like idiots.
“Fuck,” I manage, as I sit back on the bed, still quivering, my pussy sensitive and pleasantly sore.
“You can say that again,” Grant murmurs. He draws me up to my feet beside him and wraps his arms around me for a long moment. I lean into him, savor the feeling of his strong arms around me, the scent of his body, and the tingle in my limbs from the orgasm.
“I’ll be your slave any day,” I murmur into his chest, and he laughs softly, then taps my chin. Tilts my head back and leans down to kiss me once more, soft and slow this time.
“Good,” he says softly against my lips. “Because I’m not ready to let you go just yet…”
9
Sasha Bluebell
The next morning, I wake up in Grant’s arms. It’s still dark outside—even Mr. Early Bird isn’t up yet. But part of him is. I realize what prodded me awake, and I grin and arch my back a little to grind my hips against his, against the hard press of his boner I can already feel digging into the small of my back.
Grant moans softly in his sleep, and I rotate my hips again, teasing.
His hand slides around my waist, and he pulls me against him, his lips teasing along my neck. “That’s certainly one way to wake up a man,” he murmurs, his other hand sliding down my waist, around my front. He flattens his palm against my stomach and lowers his hand toward my bare pussy. We both slept naked last night, since we fucked again the minute we got home from the Johnsons’ party.
I grin and wriggle my hips again. “Is that so?”
“Mm… Playing with fire there,” he whispers. “Keep doing that, and I might have to show you a thing or two about what happens to naughty little girls who wake me up.”
“Is that so?” I glance over my shoulder, a challenge flaring in my eyes. “Maybe you’ll just have to explain it to me, then, Mr. Werther.”
“Gladly,” he murmurs, nipping at my earlobe lightly. I gasp, but his bite quickly shifts into a soft, caressing lick, then a kiss, as he works his way down the side of my neck.
“Mm… For punishment, this isn’t so bad,” I whisper as he wraps his arms around me and pulls my body against his possessively. His cock presses against the backs of my thighs, and I’m getting wet already just feeling him there, so close to my pussy, so hard with desire for me. “I might have to wake you up more often.”
I can feel him smile against the nape of my neck, a motion that sends another cascade of shivers trickling down my spine. “Uh oh. She’s discovered my motive.”
I laugh, and turn to catch his eye. But he presses his mouth to mine in a long, slow kiss, and I’m distracted from whatever I was going to say. My lips part, and his tongue traces along mine, tentative, gentle. At the same time, his hand slides from my hip to my thighs, and gently draws my upper leg up, parting my thighs enough that his cock can slide between them, thick and meaty between my legs. I sigh into his mouth, and he draws back far enough to look at me, that same hungry look in his eye. Only this time it’s softer, sweeter. He looks at me like he can’t believe I’m here.
I know the feeling. I’m not sure what I expected when I came home to the farm, but it definitely wasn’t this. It wasn’t him.
Grant Werther came out of nowhere.
His cock parts my pussy lips, and I arch my hips back against him to grant him easier access. At the same time, he reaches down to circle his fingertips across my mound, slowly increasing pressure with every circulation, making my clit tingle with pleasure. It doesn’t take long before I’m breathing faster, my body quivering at his touch. Only then does he arch his hips forward, slide his cock straight up to my entrance.
Fuck, I’m already so wet for him.
“God you are perfect, Sasha,” he murmurs softly, those eyes still fixed on mine, holding me in place, unable to look away.
I can’t look away from him—but I don’t want to, either. I want to drink in that look in his eyes over and over, as long as I can.
He pushes his hips forward in one slow, smooth motion, and the tip of his cock spreads my lips. Inches into my pussy, centimeter by torturous centimeter. I gasp softly, wriggling against him, trying to push him deeper, faster.
“Always so impatient,” he scolds, a hint of a smile on his mouth. He’s still holding me against him, the little spoon to his bigger one, and I love this feeling, being completely enfolded in his body, even as his thick cock begins to fill me up.
“What can I say?” I smile back, arching a brow. “I like having your big cock inside me, Country Man.”
“Addicted already, City Girl?” He smirks, and with that, thrusts the rest of the way into me all at once, one swift hard motion.
I cry out with pleasure, my hands fisting in the sheets beside us.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he replies, laughing softly, as he begins to draw out of me again.
“You do have a great cock, I’ll grant you that,” I manage, recovering enough to arc my hips back, angling toward him.
He thrusts into me again, and lets out a soft, faint groan. “Your pussy is fairly addictive too, City Girl.” He pulls out, and now we both thrust together, our breaths coming shorter as we move in sync. “So fucking tight. And you’re always so wet for me…”
“Sounds like we’re both addicted,” I murmur, grinning, as we start to thrust in sync now, his cock spreading the walls of my pussy wide as he fills me again and again.
“Sounds like,” he agrees softly, and then I lose track of his voice, lost instead in the feeling of his hands exploring me—one toying with my clit, the other wrapped tight around my waist—and his cock thrusting inside me.
I lose track of everything. The farm, the bedroom, the outside world. The whole world narrows until it’s just me and Grant and everything between us.
We both come together, him stroking me right up to the edge of my climax before his cock dragging along my front wall, right over my G-spot, sends me over the brink. He finishes at the same time, growling with lust as he pulls my hips back hard against his, pumping every ounce of his cum into me. I tighten my pussy, clench hard around him to milk every last drop, loving the sensation, the sheer animal lust of it.
We collapse against the sheets together, tangled up, spent, and only then does dawn hint at the curtains, painting them a pale pink. A reminder of another day dawning. Another day less that we have together.
I push up out of bed, mostly to distract myself from how nice it feels to lie there in his arms. I can’t get too comfortable. This is temporary, all of it. I can enjoy it while it lasts, but I can’t let myself relax too much.