Page 34 of Free Fall

He slapped my pussy. “No talking.” Then continued, this time with three fingers. It was enough to finish me, and I came with a shout, trying to bite my lip to hold in my voice, failing completely. He didn’t let up his tongue and fingers until my body stopped shaking and my pussy stopped pulsing. Then he stood, and my head lolled, unable to look up at him.

Without asking, without a word, he slid his cock inside me. My orgasm hadn’t quite ebbed away yet, and the insistent stretch had my eyes rolling back.

I didn’t even care he was going to destroy me. Death by orgasm was a hell of a way to go.

Eighteen

Luca

Thosemomentsinthechanging room of that dirty sex club, when she looked up at me with all that innocent, open confusion, like maybe we could be okay, like maybe we’d be able to sort everything, followed by the way she clammed up at my standoffishness, brought us back to sex and dirt… well, it fucked with me. Bringing me to this studio, performing for me… I knew what she was telling me.

We couldn’t let the emotion in.

We needed to be a performance, to have a strong barrier, a boundary between the sex and the emotion. Pushing body limits as two consenting adult beings, putting our history at the door. We would never be more. Could never.

I drove my cock into her, gripping her flesh and swinging her into me, letting her body slam onto mine with echoing slaps. She would bruise, her thighs turning purple and tender from how hard I was pounding into her. The ribbon around her ankles dug in, the skin looking sore, her feet growing a darker red. Her chest heaved, her mouth hung open, and she cried out every time I thudded against her cervix, filling her wholly. Her tight warmth surrounded me, squeezed me so we were a single entity, an unending loop of fucked up lust.

I was going to have her dripping with my cum, loose and sated, before doing what I had in mind next. “Do we have this studio to ourselves all night?”

“What?” Zelda blurted, her voice loud as she tried to come back to life. She shook her head, blinked a few times. “Yeah, we do. Shit, Luca… yeah. No one will be in until like 10am tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Squeeze your pussy around me, Zel. I want to feel every muscle spasm.” I drove into her wildly, leaning forward to suck on her tongue as my balls drew up and my spine tingled. Then it rushed over me, made my skin and my bones buzz as I poured my cum into her, fucking it deep inside, spurt after spurt, struggling to stay upright as I groaned and bit at her tongue until a burst of copper flooded my mouth.

“I can feel you filling me up,” Zel sighed. “I’m so full with you, heavy… let me taste, please.” She ran her bloody tongue along her bottom lip. “I can’t get enough when you feed our cum to me.”

I hummed, kissed her scarlet mouth, lapping up more of her blood, before shaking my head. “Not today, beautiful. I have different plans for the mess we’ve made.” I stood, looking over at her bag in the corner. When she’d been getting changed at the strip club, I’d thrown a bottle of lube in there, preparing.

“Hold the cum in, little cum dump.” I slapped her ass cheek and left her swinging for a moment, striding across the room to get the lube. Something else caught my eye while I was there, and I shoved it over my face with a grin. I returned to her in mere seconds, catching a dribble of fluid threatening to drop to the floor and shoving it back inside her. “Look at me,” I demanded.

Her head lolled up, her eyes widening when she took in her painted neon mask, placed on my face, so reminiscent of the one I’d worn the first time we’d fucked. “Did you get this on purpose? Do you use it as some misguided attempt to claim that night back?” My voice was mocking, cold, but from the way her gaze heated, she was here for it. I was also correct. Right on the fucking money.

“Oh my god,” she exhaled.

“Remember that safe word,” I cooed, dragging my cummy fingers around her hole, driving four in and twisting. “I’m going to make you my sock puppet again.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “I remember. Do it. Anything.”

I craved her like this. It breathed life into me, gave me everything I needed to survive. I stretched her with my four fingers, widening them inside her body until she was aching for more, pushing herself onto me and whining. Her pink skin looked beautiful as it expanded, tight around me. I ripped the mask off my head, wanting her to see my face as I ruined her.

When I slipped my fingers back in, adding my thumb, first coating my whole fist in lube, she groaned, a mixture of pain and pleasure pouring from her, sweaty skin and shivering limbs wrecking her. My dick gave a valiant twitch, eager for more, as my hand glided inside her knuckles deep.

She was groaning, floppy, her head rolling from side to side as she welcomed me in. “You ready for the final push?” I asked, braced to stretch her further. The mixture of cum and lube had my hand shiny, her thighs and ass cheeks slick. The floor pooled with it beneath us.

“Please,” she cried.

“Or should I abandon you here? Hanging like meat from a hook, awaiting your humiliation? Shall I stuff you with this ribbon, leave it dangling from your pussy? You danced for other men. You wanted to tell my wife. Should I leave you here and ruin you?”

She gulped, my words washing over her, fear bringing her out in goosebumps as she refused to look at me.No safe word. I drove my fist into her opening, pushing until her hole closed over my wrist.

Her cry was a desperate thing as I pushed in and out, watching her skin stretch almost too far, loving how it reddened and puffed. My cock hardened again, my blood racing there, swarming around my crotch as the sight alone sent me to the edge. My hand disappearing inside her, her pussy tight around my wrist, her legs splayed, her head unable to stay up. All of it.

I bent and licked her stretched out clit, enjoying how close to the surface her piercing looked, like a single tug would tear it free. She squeezed around my fingers like a vice as she came again, her orgasm catapulting through her. Her entire body tensed, then with one scream, she slumped. Out cold.

I stayed inside her as I masturbated, spilling my third load of the night onto her stomach with a grunt. It was gentle, mild but still satisfying. She didn’t react as I pulled free, nor as I gathered my fresh cum from her stomach and stuffed it inside her abused pussy. She just hanged there, breathing, half conscious, occasionally murmuring to herself. Broken. Beaten. Abused. Blissed out.

“You need to wake up,” I said after a few minutes passed. “I haven’t got a fucking clue how to get you out of these ribbons and I don’t want to break your legs.”

She gave a weak laugh and sat up, flipping herself around a few times like it was the easiest thing. It was quite the sight, shiny thighs and red pussy flashing as she untangled herself, dropping one leg to the floor, then the other. She held onto the ribbon as she found her balance, leaning on it with a wobbly sigh. The neon mask sat beside her feet, splattered with cum and other fluids.

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