Page 66 of Dizzy

His fingers skate up my back. He unhooks the bra and pulls it free. Then he cups my breast. He’s so big, all of me is in his hand.

“Gimme this,” he says, and I arch my back. He drops his head and takes my tit in his mouth. He sucks and draws, lapping my nipple with his raspy tongue. It’s so good. Hot and wet and demanding.

The best part is howserioushe is. He’s not trying to warm me up. He’s devouring me. It’s like feasting on my tits is even better for him than it is for me.

That’s how all this is. Whatever feels good to me seems to rev his engine twice as much. As if there’s a direct connection between my pleasure and his satisfaction. It’s crazy.

He suckles, tongues my nipples until I’m whimpering, grinding down, sliding my pussy along his cock, smearing the condom with my cream. I want more.

His hand rests flat against the small of my back, and he turns his attention to my other tit, sucking hard, tugging until I cry out, releasing it with a pop.

This is torture. And I can stop it.

He gives my tits a break and brushes kisses along my jaw, gathering my hair and holding it in a ponytail with one fist. “Ride my cock, baby,” he rumbles in my ear. “Come on.”

My clit throbs. I grind, but he stays frustratingly still, his lips gentle, even though he’s panting as if he’s in pain. He kisses my scar. The tip of my nose.

If I want it, I have to take it.

And I want it. I really do. For the first time in my life.

I grab him by the root and wrap my fingers around his girth. Even through the rubber, he’s hot to the touch. I rise up on my knees. He’s so big; that’s not gonna do it. I have to kind of squat over his lap.

I don’t know how to do this. I’m fumbling, and then his hand is on mine, aiming, and I feel him press at my entry. He’s huge. I don’t take him automatically. He’s too much.

The fingers of my other hand find my clit, and I rub furiously as I spread my thighs, tilting and wiggling. I want him inside me. I buck and rock, working myself down, inch by inch, impaling my pussy on his thick cock. He grunts, his face contorted, his eyes desperate. He’s sweating, and he smells like musk and man.

I want to touch his bare skin. I want to rake my tits through the wiry hair on his chest. I unbutton his shirt, frantic, and he helps me, tossing it onto the floor, peeling off his white undershirt. And then my palms find his rock-hard shoulders, and I hold on as I take more of him, moaning as he stretches me.

“I’m so full,” I moan.

“Does it feel good?” he growls, breathless.

“Yes.”

Oh Lord, it feels so good.

His stomach muscles are bunched tight, the strain showing on his face. He’s letting me set the pace, and it’s costing him.

Finally, I take him all the way, and he breaks. He bucks, fucking into me, lifting me and drilling my pussy. I’m on top, but he’s in control. Every stroke is the best feeling, and I want it, every inch, I want him to use me, slam me down onto his cock over and over, and make me take it.

There’s the wet, sticky sound of slapping, and it’s so dirty. And hot. I’m gonna cum.

My pussy’s spasming, pure pleasure coiling in my belly tighter and tighter, a wave looming, ready to wash me away. I can hardly play with my clit, he’s pounding me so hard. My hair has fallen in our faces, tangled in his beard.

“Does this feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” I sob.

He grabs my tender ass, digging in, lifting me and slamming me down as he pistons, faster and faster. It hurts, and it makes everything feel even better. I don’t want him to ever stop, and I can’t bear a single second more.

“You’re taking my cock like a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I gasp.

“Ride my cock harder, dirty girl. Take it all. Come on.” He’s grunting in my ear, his quick breaths hot on my neck, and I’m coming, waves of pleasure cresting through me, my belly tightening, and I throw my arms around his neck, holding tight as I shake and tremble, shoving my face into my upper arm to stifle my screams, my mind blown to pieces.

He drills into me once, twice, bottoming out as he swallows a triumphant shout. Then he wraps me in his arms, pressing me to his sweaty chest. His heart pounds against my bare tits.

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