Page 8 of Date with A D*ck

“Oh fuck!” she screams out.

“Breathe baby, you can take me just breathe,” I coach her, and go to work.

KeKe

I think I might have bitten off more than I can chew. He’s barely started and I am ready to tap out. He ate my pussy like it’s his nine to five job and his rent is due. I had several little orgasms before that monster hit me and this bastard didn’t even give me thirty seconds to recover before he had me face down and ass up on this desk. I swear I feel him in my diaphragm. He's so damn deep but he feels so damn good. He’s filling every nook and cranny I got and a few I didn’t know existed. And if that isn’t bad enough, he’s a talker, he has a nasty, filthy, dirty mouth and I love it. My husband crosses my mind briefly but I push him to the recesses of my mind, ’cause fuck him.

“Tomas, please,” I beg but I have no idea what I am begging for, but he seems to know what I want. “You feel that? My digging you out? Mmm... just like that,” he says and I feel his balls slapping against my folds with each brutal thrust of his hips. He is fucking me full stop, and giving me no quarter. I’m clawing at the desk so much that I am worried about breaking one of my nails off. I grab the front edge of the desk and pull trying to move away a bit from his thrusts. My clit is grinding on the desk, my nipples are dragging across the surface and he’s behind me: my body is in overload. I pull an inch away from him, “Oww!” I yell out, when his hand comes down on my ass.

“You wanted this remember, you practically begged for it, so take it like I’m giving it to you. Open this beautiful body up and let me play,”

Oh gawd!I think but I hold as still as I can while he is expertly fucking me on his desk. I feel him shift to the right, but when he pushes back inside of me, Oh fuck! I don’t know whether I want to run, cry, cum or all of the above but my body makes the decision for me. My palms scraped against the coldwood of the desk, splinters biting into my skin as I clawed for the edge. My breaths come in short, ragged gasps, and a euphoric cry slips past my throat as my knees slid awkwardly across the smooth surface. Fingers scrambled desperately, slipping as I search for anything—anything—to pull me just a little farther.

Behind me, I could hear his moans, deliberate thud of his thrusts, each one vibrating through my chest like a countdown. He bends over my back stretching over me, hard and heavy, holding me in place, and taking what little hope I had left.

“I can’t,” I choked out, barely audible, my voice trembling as much as my body as the orgasm takes hold of me. My fingers closed around the edge of the desk, gripping it tightly as if I could will myself to keep breathing as wave after wave of pure pleasure courses through me. My whole body is shaking. As my strength slips away, I lay my head on the desk, the tears dripping on the wood and acrylic surface, I am cumming, crying, drooling, and on the verge of passing out.

INTERMEZZO

KeKe

A few seconds later I come to the realization that I must have passed out because I am on my back with both thighs over his shoulders as he laps at my sore pussy. Time seemed to slow as his lips met my pussy, soft and searching at first, that sent a ripple of warmth through my body. His hands cradled my ass, his fingers touching me with a tenderness that made my breath hitch. I sigh as I spread my legs wider, parting in invitation.

His tongue teased me, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring me, drawing me deeper into the moment. A shiver ran down my spine as his hands slides up to my chest, his fingertips tracing around my hardened nipples. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, his mouth exploring me with a perfect mix of hunger and control. He wasn’t done with me and that was a promise, one I could feel in every lingering touch of his lips on me.

When the orgasms hit it’s so intense, yet gentle. I feel like I am floating on pure pleasure.

“I don’t mind finishing this here but I would love to take you home so we can be on a soft comfortable bed—eventually, ifyou’ll let me,” he says resting his head on my thigh as he looks up into my eyes.

“Your house?” I ask coming down real quick from my sexual high.

“We are in a fully functional restaurant, alone. If I wanted to do something with you this is the perfect place. I am thinking of both of our comfort because I am far from done with you if you are willing,”

“I’m willing,” I tell him. He helps me sit up, before going to grab my clothes. My body is still tingling from all the pleasure he’s given me, and I’m looking forward to everything else he has planned for me. I take the clothes he hands me, and hurriedly get dressed.

“Give me a few minutes, I have to finish closing the restaurant and then we can go.”

“Oh, I’ll help,” I offer, slipping on my shoes.

“Uh–”

“I insist,” I say interrupting whatever argument he was preparing. Afterall I am the reason he didn't finish his closing procedure. First, we put his office back together and then headed to the kitchen to finish closing up. It didn't take long for us to have everything set to rights and was heading out the door.

“His arms encircle me, firm yet deliberate, as though giving me one last chance to pull away. The heat of his body presses into mine, steady and grounding, bending his breath fans warmly across the curve of my neck. The scent of him—smoky, earthy, with a hint of something clean and spicy—wraps around me like a whisper of reassurance.

“Still game?” He murmurs against my skin, his lips brushing the hollow of my throat like a secret only I’m meant to hear. His words hum with a mix of challenge and restraint, but there’s a softness, too—a quiet hesitation that begs for honesty.

I feel the slight tension in his hands where they rest on my lower back, the way his thumbs stroke slow, absentminded circles through the fabric of my dress, as if trying to memorize the feel of me. His nose grazes the side of my neck, and I shiver, not from the cold but from the quiet intimacy of the gesture.

“You’ve had time to think about this,” he says, his voice deeper now, carrying a weight that feels as if it settles in my chest. His lips pause, lingering just above my collarbone, and the space between us grows electric.

I tilt my head slightly, inviting him closer without words, the fluttering in my stomach answering his question before I do. My fingers find their way to the nape of his neck, sliding through his hair, as I breathe, “I haven’t changed my mind.”

His hold tightens almost imperceptibly, his mouth curving into a smile I can feel against my skin. His response comes not in words, but in the gentle way his lips claim mine, slow and deliberate, tasting the promise in my answer.

He entwines his fingers with mine, his touch warm and confident as he guides me across the lot. The cool night air swirls around us, but his presence feels like a shield against the chill. When we reach my car, he pauses, pulling open the door with an effortless grace, the soft creak breaking the quiet between us.

I start to slide into the seat, but his hand lingers, brushing my elbow as if he’s reluctant to let go. He leans down, close enough that I catch the faint scent of his cologne—spicy and grounding, like him. His lips find mine in a quick, tender kiss, the kind that speaks of promises yet to be fulfilled.

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