Page 71 of Clap Back (Carter Brothers)

The fingers of his left hand entered me while the fingers of his right caught one of my nipples and twisted.

I cried out at the sensation.

His mouth on my clit, two fingers deep inside my pussy, and his fingers pinching my nipple had my head whirling.

I didn’t know what to concentrate on.

And maybe that was his entire intention, to disorient me.

“Oh, fuck,” I gasped in the most ladylike fashion.

My thighs had to be smothering him, but I couldn’t stop the squeezing. Couldn’t stop anything, really.

Especially not the orgasm that was barreling down on me.

I gasped, my toes curling, and then he curled his fingers.

That, apparently, was all that I needed to come.

I came, too.

As in, gushed.

I’d never, not in my life, felt the sensation before, but when he pulled back, his mouth and throat wet, my cheeks flamed.

Had I just…

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he growled, his eyes strangely intense. “Fuck me.”

I went to reply, ready to apologize for practically soaking his face, but he was on me in the next breath.

I was flipped, my legs were now hanging, my toes barely brushing the ground, and he was filling me up so full that the embarrassment fled.

He felt… divine.

Like he was meant to be exactly where he was at.

His cock moved, slamming into me with such force that it should’ve hurt.

It didn’t hurt. It felt perfect.

He hit me so deep, the orgasm that had just passed felt like a baby compared to the one that was once again heading my way.

Like the calm before the storm.

I cried out with each thrust of his hard and very large cock.

I felt stretched where I’d never stretched before.

And God, did he feel deep. So. Deep.

His hands dug into my ass, and for once the self-consciousness didn’t rear its ugly head as his fingers were filled with the less than toned flesh.

My breasts were shaking. Hell, the fat on my belly was shaking. My ass was shaking. Everything was shaking.

I didn’t care, though.

I was so lost in the spiral downward into oblivion that I was psychically incapable of caring about anything but his next thrust.

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