“Honey, of course you’re not a circus sideshow, that’s the silliest shit I’ve ever heard. But what we’re doing is wrong, get it? Off the charts wrong, like I’m gonna be fired wrong.”
And I got angry then.
“Then why are we doing this?” I said tightly, my lip trembling as I tried to control the rage. “Why? What’s the point?”
“Because,” he said roughly, seizing my chin in his hand before bending over the table to kiss me, “of this.” And I’d never been touched like that before. It was kiss filled with longing, with pent-up desire, with all the tangled thoughts, the impossible words that couldn’t be spoken, and my heart thumped maniacally as he poured his soul into me, making me whimper, shudder and tremble.
The big man was over on my side of the table in a flash, pulling me out of my chair, breathing into my mouth.
“Baby girl,” he whispered against my lips. “You’re so young, so fucking young and you don’t know anything yet. I can’t take that from you, I can’t take your innocence.”
Except I did him one better.
“You already have,” I whispered, winding my arms around his neck pushing my soft curves against that iron chest. “You already have.” And with a deep growl, a tortured groan, he swept me up in his arms, holding me tight before making for the stairs.
“I’m gonna … make you cum … so hard tonight,” he promised between kisses to my neck, my chin, my breasts.
And I just giggled, my thoughts flying crazily. Why had I been so angry with Stone again? I could hardly focus on anything except the deepening heat between my thighs, my folds growing slickly wet with desire.
“Please … fuck me hard tonight,” I gasped right back, panting my need into his mouth, grinding myself against his big form.
And with a low growl, he tossed me onto the bed, my boobs bouncing, round ass jouncing as my hair flew.
“Clothes. Off,” the big man commanded, eyes gleaming as he tore off his t-shirt. I was mesmerized for a moment by those rock hard abs, the broad, defined chest, but he wouldn’t let up.
“I said, ‘Off,’” he repeated, this time whipping off his belt, folding it in a loop, making like he was going to beat my ass.
And it turned me on, oh god. Instead of making me scared, I trembled in anticipation instead.
“Oh yeah?” I breathed, eyes wide, “Make me,” I whispered.
And the big man was on me then. My skirt and my shirt were torn off in moments, rags falling to the floor, a button zinging off and skittering into a corner of the room. Oh god, this was happening. This was really happening.
Because Mr. Phillips showed no mercy. He flipped me over onto my stomach so that my ass was hanging off the edge of the bed and smacked me once, the smooth leather cracking against my creamy ass cheeks.
“Owwww!” I howled. “Owwww!”
It stung so good, hurt so bad that I felt sparks shoot from my pussy as my ass tingled, the creamy white skin deepening with a lash of red.
“Fuck you,” was all he said in return, and smacked me again, this time on the backs of my thighs.
“Ouch!” I screamed this time. “Please Mr. Phillips!”
“Please what?” he heaved, hand raised. “What do little girls say please for?”
“Please … please do it again!” I shrieked, my boobs heaving, the backs of my thighs tingling with white fire, numb with agony and ecstasy.
But Mr. Phillips wanted it a different way this time. He heaved me around so that I fell flat on my back on the big bed, a tiny pair of panties my only shield against his gaze. And without missing a beat, he smacked the flat of his hand against my pussy.
“Owww!” I squealed, squirming, my cunt overheating in a second, the gush of moisture between my thighs becoming a stream. “Owww!”
His eyes ate me up, hungry like an animal, dick poking out from his jeans so hard, so big that I thought it might pop through the stiff denim. But there was more in store.
“Take them off,” he hissed, blue eyes devouring my curvy form, I could feel the heat of them on my curves.
And this time I obeyed without question. Scrambling, I hitched the panties over my hips, pulling the damp lace off, baring everything to him. I even parted my thighs without asking, showing him my moist, gleaming folds, the way my clit poked through my labia, begging for his touch, stiff and nubby.
But he wanted more.
“Hold yourself open,” he ground out, his eyes fierce on my pussy, “because I’m gonna spank your clit.”
And I don’t know what made me come right then, either the anticipation of his hand on my sensitive nub or the fact that I was so turned on that I couldn’t control my body. But I spurted like a wild woman, my pussy arching, heaving, spasming uncontrollably as sprays of juice rained, showering my lower belly and thighs with droplets of fragrant liquid.