Jesus fucking Christ, my fluids are running down my legs. I don’t think this has ever happened to me before. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a man as much as I want—need—Austin right now. This man is a God, there’s no other way to say it. Even if you compare him to his male dancers back at Python, Austin is a breed apart, a King among kings, a God among gods.
Taking one hand to my hair, he yanks on it and forces my head back; at the same time, he presses so hard against my pussy that I can’t help but moan again.
“You’re so fucking wet, babe,” he whispers again, the sound of his voice lulling me into a dream like state.
“I am,” I simply say, my mind completely blank as the feeling of his hand on my pussy pushes all other thoughts and words to the fringes.
“Yes, you are… And, just like I said… This is mine,” he growls, and them moves so fast that all I see is a blur: he takes his hand off of my pussy, turns me around and grabs my dress. Then, he pulls at the fabric so violently that I hear the fabric ripping as he pulls it off of my body. Standing here, only in my heels and thong, I feel my insides clenching. “Mine,” he repeats as he hooks his fingers on the string of thong that laces my outer thigh, tugging harshly until the fabric simply tears. He throws it to the floor and then presses his hand against my naked pussy, a glint of hunger and savagery in his eyes.
“Yours,” I find myself saying, my voice quivering as I feel his fingers against my drenched folds.
“See? You act all tough, but in the end you just can’t fight it,” he tells me with a grin, running his index finger up and down the length of my pussy. “You want to be dominated, you just never met a man that could do it.”
“I…” I start, stammering, but I close my mouth and fall into silence. He’s right; I can’t tell you exactly when it happened, but I’m aching to have him dominate me, to be treated like I’m his… To be fucked as if my pleasure is my life’s purpose. God, Austin’s so intoxicating that I can barely think straight right now.
“Admit it,” he says, pressing his index fingertip over my clit and making my whole body tense up as high voltage pleasure runs to me.
“I… It’s not… No --”
“Say it,” he repeats, pressing even harder on my clit. I throw my head back, hitting the wall behind me, and grit my teeth.
“No,” I hiss, closing my eyes as my brain seems to be frying inside my skull. I’m not going to submit this easily. I won’t. Other women might bend and fold, but that’s not me. He’s right, I do want to be broken and forced to submit, but I’m going to make him fight for it until the very last.
“Stubborn, uh? I like that. It’s going to make it so much better when you start begging me.” The sound of his voice makes my skin prickle, his words like stabs of pleasure on my soul. If he keeps on insisting, I don’t know how much longer I can resist, I really don’t.
Thankfully, he says nothing else and simply slides his middle finger inside my pussy, hooking it in me and curling it upward until his fingertip is pressed tight against my G-spot.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp as I feel him pressing there. He didn’t even need to probe or look for it—no, he went straight for that hidden spot inside of me, hitting it on his first shot even though we have never been together. It’s almost as if he knows my body even better than I do. He’s not even moving his hand; he’s simply pressing against my G-spot while circling my clit with one finger, rubbing it with soft but steady strokes. “Don’t--”, I start to say, but the rest of the words don’t even make it to my lips. I grit my teeth and moan through them, thunder and lightning hitting me all at once. A storm of ecstasy hits me at once, and every single muscle in my body tenses up and then relaxes as high voltage pleasure runs through and makes them twitch.
“That’s just an appetizer,” Austin tells me, that delicious smile on his lips as he slides his finger out from my pussy. Before he slides it all the way out, I grab him by the wrist and stop him.
“More,” I whisper, my voice so low it’s barely audible. But he smiles at me all the same, sliding his finger back in. Except this time he doesn’t go for my G-spot—no, he turns his hand around, places his thumb over my clit and slides one more finger inside of me. Flicking his wrist back and forth, he starts to finger me with such a fury that a loud moan explodes in my voice.
He keeps moving his fingers until I feel the tension building up inside my muscles once more, my insides burning as I feel the claws of ecstasy all over my body. I open my mouth to say something, but by the time my lips part, I have no idea what I was going to say. In my mind, one thought pushes all others away: I need him to fuck me. Like a mantra, that thought repeats itself over and over again inside my head, drowning the rational side of me.