Page 8 of Obeying His Rules

No wonder he wasn’t shy stripping out of his clothes.

My brain starts doing math calculations immediately, trying to determine if that thing will even fit in my mouth.

“Marlon, I don’t know what I’m doing–”

“Here, I’ll make it easier for you.”

The next thing I know, he has his fingers in my hair and I’m being forced to my knees in front of him. “Open up.”

Without even thinking, I do exactly as I’m told.

His manhood barely fits between my lips. His thickness is enormous, and he doesn’t even give me a chance to get used to it before he’s pushing it all the way to the back of my throat. The last thing I want to do is gag, so I fight as hard as I can against it, but it’s no use. After a couple of thrusts, I have to pull back and cough and suck in air.

“Aw, Rain,” Marlon chuckles. “I was hoping for better from you.”

I glare up at him as he strokes his shaft with one hand, using the spit from my mouth as lubricant, and grins down at me with amusement gleaming in his eyes.

I should be getting up, grabbing my dress, and getting the hell out of here. This isn’t romantic. This isn’t how a first time should go.

So why aren’t I?

“Fuck you,” I glare back defiantly.

I take as deep a breath as I can take, lean in and open my mouth as wide as it can, and take his cock as far down my throat as it can possibly go. Marlon groans with a deep pleasure that goes straight to my stomach.

See? I can do it.

He grips my hair tightly as he begins to thrust, and I just focus on not gagging, not coughing, and holding out as long as I can. If I can handle the fashion industry, I can handle this.

I can feel his cock swelling in my throat and in my mouth. Somehow it grows to an even larger size than it was before, which didn’t even seem possible.

I’m able to take it a lot better this time. I’m not gasping and wheezing when I pull back.

“What a good girl,” Marlon says, snatching me by the arm and lifting me to my feet. He grabs both of my breasts and squeezes hard–not quite hard enough to hurt but enough that I can feel his strength.

“And goddamn what a rack you have on you. So plump and perky. 36-C?”

“34,” I reply.

“Ah, I was close.”

He slips his arm around my waist and pulls me closer, so our bodies are pressed together, allowing me to feel the heat rising off him, and every one of his powerful muscles. Then he bends slightly at the knees and presses his cock between my thighs.

This time, I do gasp as I feel his manhood slide in against my most tender of places, stimulating me beyond anything I had expected. Even with the fabric of my panties between us, the sensation is still causing me to feel as though I’m ready to burst.

“I see why your name is Rain, Rain,” Marlon whispers, bringing his lips within a couple inches of my ear, the heat of his breath sending a tickle through my spine.

I clear my throat. “Wh-why’s that?”

He gets even closer–millimeters now.

“Because you’re so wet.”

I don’t even have time to recover because he has me in his arms and is carrying me into the bedroom. I can’t even process the luxuriousness as my head is spinning.

He tosses me down on the bed but somehow manages to do it with the perfect combination of care and recklessness that I land just right. I start to roll onto my back to look up to him, but he stops me with a hand on my waist and forces me onto my stomach.

“No. Like this.”

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