Old Man's Ride(10)

Surrender. I'd been following his orders, but just barely. I knew I still wore worry on my face. I was the very picture of tension and stress most of the time, and even now I knew my shoulders were tight, my thighs were stiff, my fists clenched. He wants me to surrender to him. To submit to this.

I wanted to. I really did. It was just so hard, after spending so much of my life fighting for some modicum of control. And look where it got me. So I took a deep breath, and let go. Home was far away; my problems were far away. Right now, I belonged to Nomad. Nothing else was important. Here, now, there was nothing to worry about. Nomad would take care of me; he would give me what I needed.

He noticed the change right away. "That's it, honey." He licked me again, slow and sensual. He eased my internal ache, pumping his thick fingers deep, stroking my g-spot, that deep place of heightened sensitivity. Sparks shot through my body, sharp and hot bolts of euphoria sizzling my veins. I teetered on the edge of the explosion, but it held itself at bay, because he hadn't given the order.

"Very good," he murmured, "Good girl. Come for me now, honey."

It was like a dam breaking. One more kiss planted gently on my throbbing clit, and I came harder; harder than I ever had. My pussy clenched around his fingers as I drowned beneath the pulsing waves of pleasure, flooding through me fast and strong with every beat of my heart. I cried out a sound completely foreign to my ears. Surrender. Release. Relief.

I wanted more. I wanted his cock inside me.

He had the same idea, though not exactly what I had in mind. “Sit up.” I propped myself up against the headboard with the lumpy hotel pillows. He crawled up the bed, over my body, and knelt with his knees to either side of my hips.

I reached out to unzip his pants, thoughtlessly, my mind still in a sexual haze after my intense orgasm. He swatted my hands away. “Only what I say.” I nodded, but I didn’t look up at him. I was mesmerized by the huge bulge in his jeans. The old man was packing. “Close your eyes.” I obeyed with a sigh of disappointment. I wanted to see him - to see it. “Keep your lips closed.”

I listened to the sound of his zipper opening. My body quivered with anticipation. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, but couldn’t see him with my eyes shut so tight. I imagined him pulling his cock out - pictured it’s length and girth in my mind, its color, its textures. My mouth watered for him.

He pressed his cock to my lips and rubbed the spongy head back and forth. He painted my lips with his precum; the scent alone was enough to drive me crazy. I wanted to open my mouth, let him slip slowly inside, to taste him, to return the pleasure he’d given me. But I waited.

“Good girl,” he said again, his voice husky with lust. His praise made me smile. I wanted nothing more than to please him in that moment.

He pushed against my lips with a touch more pressure. “Open a little.” I let my lips part. He slid the tip of his cock between them. Without thinking, I slid my tongue against his slit, eager to taste him, to please him. But it didn’t please him at all. He grabbed a handful of my hair in a painful, tight fist and pulled my head back, away from his erection. “I didn’t tell you to do that.”

“I’m sorry!” I whined; whether from the pain or from the loss of his cock, I didn’t know. Both. “I’m sorry. Please. Let me try again.”

His grip relaxed, but he still kept my hair in his hand. “Again. My orders. Open your mouth.” I did, and he slid his cock inside. I breathed through my nose and kept myself still. It was an effort. He moved his cock against the roof of my mouth, against my tongue, aiming it himself with a fist around the base. My eyes still closed, I couldn’t see his full length but I suspected he’d never get the whole thing inside my mouth.

Echoing my thoughts, he said, “You’re going to pay for that. You’re going to take my whole dick.”

I hummed an affirmation, unable to form words at the moment. He stretched my mouth wider slowly, pushing in and out just a bit at a time. I nearly gagged as he approached the back of my throat. His cock was so hot and hard in my mouth, his scent so masculine, so seductive, I had to fight back an urge to lick and to suck, to give him what I was sure he needed.

He’d let me know when I was allowed.

If my mouth wasn’t full, I would have beamed when the head touched the back of my throat and his pubic hair tickled my nose. I’d done it. I was barely even breathing, but I’d done it.

He grunted with satisfaction. Staying in control, he gripped my head with both hands and fucked my mouth, pulling me back and forth as saliva dripped from the corners of my lips. He moved my head faster, then slower, muttering “good girl,” and smoothing my hair. He held my head still and thrust into the back of my throat, choking me. My heart raced as he did it, but he stopped after only a few thrusts and returned to more gentle motions, moving my head, using my mouth like a sex toy. His erotic little grunts of pleasure filled the air in concert with my own needy whimpers. I knew he was close; I could feel his cock throbbing with his heartbeat whenever he paused our motions.