Page 69 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

“You want this dick?”

She nods.

“I’ll give it to you. On one condition.”

She waits.

Smiling, I press my lips to her ear, my tongue making a quick swipe of her earlobe.

“Beg.”

A shudder rolls through her.

“Lemme hear that,” I say.

She sucks in a long breath, and then, softly, she says, “Please?”

“Please, what?”

She arches backwards, nudging me. “Please fuck me, Ace.Please.”

I tighten my grip on her hips.

“I’ll die if you don’t fuck me.”

Okay.

An impassioned plea. A little dramatic, but I’ll take it.

I grind myself into her again, my eyes rolling back as I fight against the slow-building orgasm.

“Would you fuck me if I was dead?”

I stop.

Did I—?

Did she—?

Is this one of those ‘would you still love me if I was a worm’ type questions girlfriends ask?

Nah.

This is worse.

This isinsane.

“If you were fucking me, and choking me, and I died, would you keep fucking me?” she says, throwing her ass back. “Would you nut inside my body, Ace? Tell me. Please…”

What thefuck? I mean, I wanted her to beg, but not like this. This is sick. It’s depraved. It’s enough to make me cut my losses and go searching for a nice girl I can take home to meet my family.

But…I’m stroking again. And it feels so damngood. And I’m about to nut. With a vengeance. I can’t stop it.

“Raya…”

“Would you?” she demands, her pussy clenching around me. It’s wetter, too. Soaking me.

Fuck.

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