Dirty Bad Secrets(32)

“I’ll be good,” she said. “Fuck, Andy, that feels really nice.”

“And how about this?” I said, thwacking it hard against her thigh. “How does that fucking feel?”

“Ow, fuck… yes!”

“Did he hurt you like this, Faye?” I brought the crop up to her tits, flicking the end against her pert little nipples. She gasped and groaned, closing her eyes as she struggled to keep position. “I don’t give a fuck who wins the next coin toss, you’ll be wearing my bruises right the way through next week, I fucking promise.”

My words stoked the fire, and her eyes flashed open, blazing with defiance. “Then you’d better fucking hit me, hadn’t you? Come on, Andy, fucking give it to me!”

I thrashed her thighs for her audacity, and I thrashed them good. Her legs trembled with adrenaline, stripes darkening to crimson as blood pooled beneath the skin.

“Better?” I sneered.

She nodded, eyes watery.

“There’s so much more to come, Faye. So much more…”

I dropped the crop and used my palm to deliver heavy, thudding slaps across her tits. I twisted her nipples until she yelped, then took them into my mouth, biting and sucking and slurping until she begged for more. Fuck, how I loved hurting those sweet tits, marking them up so fucking pretty. I ground my fingers into her hungry snatch and she bucked at the contact, desperate to grind that tender little nub to orgasm.

“Please, Andy,” she wheezed. “Make me come.”

I slapped her cunt so hard she gritted her teeth. “You’ll come when I say so.”

“Bastard,” she said.

Two fingers slid inside her easily, so I opened her up with a third and she grunted. I snaked my free hand around her thigh to seek out her dirty little asshole, then worked a finger in dry. She let out low groan of pain. “I’ll fucking remember that,” she hissed.

“You’ll remember this more,” I said, and her body stiffened as I forced in another two. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it this way,” I snarled. “Your pussy well and truly fucking betrays you.”

“Fuck…” she wheezed. “Fuck, Andy, that fucking hurts…”

My fingers were brutal, stretching both holes nice and wide as she groaned and bucked and hissed at me. “Good girl,” I said. “Fucking take it.”

She brought her arms down from the wall, hooking them around my neck to rest on my shoulders, and with that leverage she pulled me closer, until her mouth was pressed to mine and her tongue was at my lips. I kissed her hard, muffling her squeal as I jammed a fourth finger into her pussy.

“Fuck me,” she groaned into my mouth. “Please, Andy, just fuck me.”

Her body made such delicious noises as I pulled my fingers out. I spun her around and pinned her hard, making her groan as her sweet bruised tits slapped the wall. I loosened my trousers enough to free my cock, and slammed into her sopping cunt with a growl of relief. I reached around to strum at her swollen clit, and my other hand found her mouth, forcing dirty fingers down her throat until she gagged.

“Come for me,” I snarled. “Come for me with my filthy fingers down your throat. Show me how dirty you are, Faye, show me the girl from those disgusting fucking books.”

She exploded under my fingers, legs shaking like jelly as she spluttered against the intrusion in her mouth. I held her firm, unloading myself into her hot little snatch as she tensed all around me.

I kept her pinned as we caught our breath, only letting go when I was sure she was steady enough.

Her hair was a mess, and her lipstick was even worse, but she looked hot as fucking sin.

I left her to dress herself while I finished up in the office, and she’d only just laced up her corset by the time I’d got back.

I tossed my keys from one hand to another, casually, as though I hadn’t just fucked her brains out five minutes earlier.

“Fancy a lift?” I asked. “Car’s round the back.”



***



Faye



Andy had a Mercedes, a new acquisition. It smelled of leather, and polish, and him. It also smelled of sex once we’d been sitting in it a few minutes. I relaxed into the passenger seat and watched dawn breaking over London, the rumble of the engine all but sending me to sleep.

“Up here, right? West Street?” Andy took the corner before I could stop him, and swinging onto the road I’d abandoned three days previous.

“Not anymore, sorry,” I said. “I should’ve let you know sooner. I’m in Kings Court, you can cut back around at the top, it’s only a couple of streets over. Kings Lodge Guesthouse, there’s a sign out front.”