Page 40 of Dirty Little Secrets
“Fuck…” I moan, breath ragged.
I thrust deep and hard, bottoming out in one brutal stroke. Her body freezes then arches, her muscles clenching tight around me.
“You like it hard.” I pound into her hard, each thrust deeper, harder, my hips slapping against the back of her thighs. The shiny latex makes the sounds echo louder. She grips the sheets as I use her body like a release valve.
She’s perfect. Tight, responsive. Her body was made for this. A body without a face.
She squirms beneath me as I reach for the chain hanging on the wall above the bed. I grab it, slide a velvet-lined collar around her neck, and fasten the chain to the loop on the back. I give her slack––enough to breathe––but just enough to feel the threat of restraint.
“I’m going to choke the cum out this pussy,” I whisper against the black shell of her mask.
She nods eagerly.
I yank the chain, arching her back until her ass tilts higher, more exposed. Then I slam back into her, one hand on the chain, the other spanking her ass. The sounds echo, her moans grow wilder, frantic. The bottle of lube is beside her right palm flat against the mattress.
I unscrew it, coat her pussy and tight little hole. I work my thumb inside her ass, circling it slowly, pressing just enough to make her gasp.
“This ass,” I growl, “was made to fuck.”
Hers is perky. Not too big or too small. It’s just the right size. Her hips roll, her way to beg for more. She’s the perfect sacrifice for the demon I need to exorcise.
I pull out, flip her onto her back, her heels digging into the mattress as her thighs part. The chain pulls, taut, keeping her close.
“Spread your pussy for me.”
She obeys. Her gloved fingers part her swollen folds. Her pussy is red, glistening, trembling. I spit. A long, thick string lands right on her clit. She moans, spreading it with two fingers.
“Your pussy fucks like it’s begging for my cum,” I rasp.
She nods slowly, sticking out her tongue through the slit covering her mouth, hips grinding into the bed. She’s fucking insatiable. I can’t see her face, but I don’t need to. Her body tells me everything it wants. I enter her again, dragging her closer by the chain.
She braces herself on her elbows, watching my cock stretch her. “Watch,” I order. “Watch what you do to me.”
Her head tilts forward. I thrust harder, deeper. She cries out, the sound feral, ragged. Her thighs tremble.
When she starts matching my rhythm, grinding against me with wild, desperate thrusts, I know she’s about to come.
I let her. Her body convulses. Her legs tremble. She screams. I pull out just in time, tear off the condom, and stroke my cock in front of her face.
“Stick out your tongue. Be a good whore and drink my cum.”
She mewls. Then her tongue is out and my orgasm rips through me. I come in hot, thick ropes. It lands on her tongue, the spandex cover her face, chest coating the glossy suit.
She laps it up like it’s the best thing she’s tasted. Chasing every drop like it’s the last.
I’m not done.
Not even close.
I grab her by the hips. Her ass is next.
But first, I slide my nose along the side of her mask. Up her jaw. My tongue flicks over the fabric covering her cheek. “Turn around,” I whisper, with promise. “I’m just getting started.”
22
“You’re in late,” Kristina says coming home after her date.
I cover my thighs with a blanket on her couch. “It’s 3 am. I’m early.”
