Page 9 of He Sees You When You're Sleeping

I grab a few more candy canes from my bag before moving in front of her. Her eyes meet mine, teary and smudged with mascara. “Open wide,” I taunt. She obeys beautifully, letting her tongue loll out of her mouth like she’s nothing but a stupid, mindless cumwhore.

I pull my cock from my red Santa pants, letting it hang in front of her face. Fear shines in her eyes, the same way it always does when a woman sees my dick for the first time. It’s massive, a solid twelve inches, and when I see the trepidation enter their eyes, I get impossibly harder. Their pain, their fear, drives me. It turns me on like nothing else.

Hooking two candy canes inside both her cheeks, I pull her mouth open wider. I jerk my hips forward, resting my dark red tip on her tongue. Drool spills from her mouth, dripping down and caking in the snow beneath us.

She can’t move her head, can’t do anything but take it. Tears streak from her eyes, mixing with her saliva, and I toss my head back.

She’s never looked prettier.

The heat from her mouth engulfs me, searing my cock as I push further in. She gags violently, but the way her throat constricts around my tip only spurs me on. I slide in deeper, smiling when I feel her begin jerking around, trying to get free.

I grin down at her, taking in the panic in her eyes. She whines and cries out, the garland stretching taut. The candy canes shift in her pussy, and her cries turn more desperate.

“What’s wrong, my little slut? Is it hurting you? Stretching you wide?” I push my cock deeper, and one of her hands movesto my thigh. “Oh, are you scared of choking on my dick? Are you scared I won’t let you breathe?”

I drop a candy cane away, keeping one cheek hooked, as I move my hand to the back of her head. My fingers tangle in her hair as I fist it, applying enough pressure to force her head forward. Her throat expands around me as I slide in. The muscles contract and ripple around me, and I know it has to hurt, but it feels so fucking good for me.

“Take it, bitch,” I grunt. Her eyes widen, and her fingers dig into the red fabric of my pants. I hold myself there, loving the way she’s forced to fuck herself with the candy. Even if she wanted to stop, her body is on autopilot right now—it’s protecting her, trying to make her breathe.

But I won’t let her.

She bangs her hand on my thigh in a desperate, pathetic attempt to get me to let up. But I don’t. I can’t. Instead, I pull out just enough to let her feel every ridge, every thick vein, before I shove back in. She doesn’t have but a few inches in her mouth, so I grab her hand from my thigh and guide it to the bit of my cock that’s free.

“Stroke it,” I demand. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

When she doesn’t move, my palm connects with her cheek. At the harsh impact, her throat gets impossibly tighter, and I groan. I slap her again, loving the way it feels to have her esophagus massaging my hot flesh.

She gags and whines, saliva pouring from her mouth in thick rivulets. It trails down her chin, down her chest, dripping from the points of her hard little nipples. Her full tits swing with each brutal thrust of my hips, and she wiggles her hips, like she’s trying to escape the constant torture from the peppermint inside her.

Finally, I pull out completely, and she takes in a deep breath, gasping for air. “Don’t be so fucking dramatic.” I scoff. She peersat me with watery eyes. Reaching up, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I couldn’t breathe,” she rasps, her tone almost accusatory.

“That was the point.” I grab her hand and bring it back to my cock. “I didn’t say stop stroking.”

She balances on one hand, trying not to move too much, and uses the other to slide her fist over my cock, twisting and tightening her grip. I watch for a few seconds, but it doesn’t feel nearly as good as it did when my cock was down her throat.

I’ve abandoned both candy canes, and I grip the back of her head with a hand and jerk her forward. “Open your mouth,” I say.

There’s a moment of hesitation, and I tighten my grip on her hair. She cries out as I shove her head down, making her ass raise into the air. The candy canes slip even deeper, and I reach across her smaller body to fuck her with them a few times, grinning at the stupid way she moans.

“Feels good, huh, whore?” I taunt her and watch as she digs her fingers into the snow. “Open your mouth.” Her lips part, and I drag her forward, resting her cheek on the toe of my shiny black boot. “Lick it.”

The sharp intake of breath makes me smile. I fuck her harder as I watch her tongue hesitantly roll out of her mouth. She probes my shoe, her nose crinkling in disgust, but soon, she drags her tongue along the smooth leather. A trail of spit follows as she licks every inch of the tip of my boot.

“Are you going to suck my cock like a good little slut?” I ask, my voice mocking.

“Yes, Santa,” she whines.

“Ask me to fuck your throat.” I shove the candy canes as deep as they’ll go, and she bares her teeth.

“Will you fuck my throat, Santa?”

“Hmm.” I let out a low sound deep in my throat. “You can do better than that. Really make me believe you want me to fuck that tight little throat of yours.”

She takes a deep breath before she wraps her lips around the toe of my boot and sucks on the leather—she sucks and licks like her life depends on it, and I let a laugh slip out.

“Pathetic little slut, aren’t you?” I say, and she lifts her head to look up at me.

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