Page 21 of CurVy 13

“Very good. In a red book, on page ninety, I found your annotation. Do you remember the scene? I won’t give it away. Let’s recreate it instead. It’s odd that you read romance novels with curvaceous women when you’re so unsure of your own sex appeal.” His words are like chimes; they ring between my ears. “Face me. Drop to your knees on the tiles.”

I don’t hesitate or question why. Once again, I pretend it’s because I’m acting the part, or maybe I’ve actually accepted what he has said. Or maybe…

You wish they actually liked you? Not just using you because you’re Thirteen.

Ugh.

I swallow.

He places a big hand over both of mine and pushes them together, squishing my breasts into each other. “Like that. A tight pocket of pretty flesh. I’m going to fuck these lovely tits, and when I come, you’ll catch it on your tongue, like a good pup.”

I watch his tattooed hands, licks of ink wrapping around each digit, as he pulls his erection out through an open zipper.

I feel my eyes widen.

That’s why it hurt.

He’s lengthy and thick, with an angry vein that pulses when his cock jerks. The tip already leaks with arousal. Is that what my body does to him?

“You like it?” He nudges his cock at the crease. “Let me in,” he says, his voice husky.

Letting some pressure go, I allow my breasts to go lax so he can push his cock in.

“Squeeze as tight as you can.” He groans roughly. “I want to feel like my cock can’t breathe.”

His fingers wind through my hair as he starts to fuck my breasts, making me shuffle on my knees to keep steady.

Two eye holes stare at the spectacle.

I peer up at him, but he wrenches my head back, exposing my long neck. My taut throat hurts as I swallow.

“Head back. Mouth open.” He wedges his leg between mine, kicking my thighs further out. He presses his shin to my pussy. I can’t believe it, but I grind on him immediately.

“Let me see your tonsils,” he pants.

My neck hurts as he tugs on the strands knotted around his fist. He lets loose, really, really pounding, and I hold them together to take his hard, brutal pace. I’m not sure he has any other speed. I swallow again and he snatches neck, halting me halfway, anchoring me to him with one hand in my hair and the other squeezing the air from me.

I need oxygen.

My lungs burn for it.

He presses on my throat until my tongue pushes out on its own accord and I pant, saliva rolling down the undulating muscle as it seeks air.

“That’s a g-good fucking pup.” His voice is wild and rough. “Pant and drool for a taste.”

My eyes roll back as I move up and down his leg. Lose all my pride. Circle my clit on his jeans. Try to breathe. Lose all my sense of self. Unsure what the fuck has happened to me in the past few hours or how I’ll ever be the same again.

I won’t.

Do you care?

Yes.

His voice is all kinds of inhuman as he says, “Humping my leg like a good little puppy. Drooling for my thick, dripping bone. God, you’re perfect.”

His head drops back, a sound like a roar leaving his lips and filling the bathroom. Fingers claw restlessly in my hair. And his cock is enveloped in my breasts, the crown sliding up and out and then disappearing again. It is hot.

It’s fucking hot.

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