Page 71 of Off the Rim
Fuck.
My arms shake with the need coursing through my body, and I lower myself to my elbows. Marcus hums and presses between my shoulder blades, flattening my chest against the desk. He keeps one hand on my back, while the other grips the base of the plug. He toys with me until I'm squirming and begging, fucking me with the silicone plug that's been living inside me for far too long. Finally he takes it out, giving me some hope that we're going to get on with it.
"So fucking wet and open for me," Marcus growls.Did he just fucking spit inside my asshole?
"Jesus, Marc! Can you please just fuck me already?!"
"It's only your second time, Ash. I'm not trying to break you."
"Do it. Fucking break me, please. I can handle it. I want it. I need it," I almost cry with desperation. "You need to take me hard and fast, before someone comes looking for us, remember?"
I have zero fucks to give if someone is looking for us or finds us. Part of me loves the thrill of getting caught, of having anyone walk in on us and seeing Marcus' big cock wrecking my ass.
There's a zip and a rustle of fabric behind me. A foot kicks between my ankles, widening my stance. More lube from the packet he put in his pocket drips inside my ass, and I moan loudly as his fingers push the lube inside me.
"Hold on to the edge of the desk," he orders. I comply.
And thenholy fuck,he's there, shoving into me in one deep, powerful thrust. He doesn't give me time to adjust. He takes me at my word that I can handle it and he fucking gives it to me.
The breath leaves my body as Marcus impales me with his massive fucking cock, hard and fast, over and over. My fingers dig into the edge of the desk, scrambling to hold on as I am truly railed within an inch of my life. Guttural cries accompany the breath that gets pushed out of me with every punishing thrust.
It.
Hurts.
So.
Good.
The heavy desk is rocking beneath us, trying to shift as the two athletes on top of it fuck like wild animals. If anyone walks by, there's no possibility that they wouldn't know what's happening in here. The desk is rattling with the same rhythm of skin slapping against skin, heavy breaths are laced with grunts, and I'm moaning like a farm animal. Marcus is a fucking machine.
"I want to see your face when I fill your ass," Marcus growls between gritted teeth.
In a quick fluid movement, he pulls out of me but only leaves me empty for a moment. He manhandles me, flipping my body over so I'm laying with my back on the desk, legs in the air. Gripping my thighs firmly, he yanks me to the edge and shoves into me again. I cry out with the new angle, the sharp hit to my prostate making my cock jerk uncomfortably in the tight underwear. Marcus slips his fingers into the crotch of my underwear, lifts, and yanks it to the side. It rips just enough to loosen the fabric, and my cock springs out the side.
He looms over me, looking deliciously disheveled. His jacket and shirt are open, bow tie loosened and pulled to the side, pants down around his ankles. His hair has given up his attempt at a gelled-back look and is flopped over his sweaty forehead. His cheeks are pink, ears and neck beet red. Blotches of red stain his exposed skin. He's fully debauched. I can only imagine what I look like.
"Take your cock out, baby. Take it out and show me how good it feels to be fucked by your enemy on your rich daddy's desk."
Marcus hooks his arms under my knees and starts pounding into me like a jackhammer again, lifting my ass off the desk. With every hard, fast thrust, he punches my prostate relentlessly, to the point where I might not even need my hand to get off, but I still want all the delicious friction. Unintelligible words and moans pour from my lips like the sweat pouring from my skin, or the precum leaking in steady rivulets down my cock. I use it to lube my hand as I wrap a tight hand around myself and stroke furiously.
"Don't come," Marcus barks, and I want to cry, but I let go of my cock and try to find purchase with my hands flat on the desk next to me. I nearly knock over the large monitor when Marcus' last few thrusts slam into me. His thrusts grow even more frantic, watching my cock bob as he rails into me. And then he comes with a moan, muffled into the side of my knee. I'm reeling as he pulls out, stands me up, turns me around, and enters me again. With his cock lodged inside me, he reaches around and grips my cock.
"You wanna come all over your daddy's desk, Princess?"
"Ffffuuuuuccckkk pleeaaasseee—” I gasp as Marcus rolls his hips into me, my sore ass clenching around his still pulsing cock as he reaches down to cup my balls. "Marcus—” I warn, not sure I can stop what's about to happen.
"Come for me, Princess. Let me see that big load I know you've got in here."
Marcus squeezes my sack, pulling down just roughly enough to make my senses go haywire. My cock spasms and starts shooting wildly. I steady it with my hand, pumping out my release all over the surface of the desk. Catching the rest in my palm, I smear it into the rest of the mess, swiping it further up the shiny wood surface when Marcus rolls his hips into me hard, riding out the last aftershocks of my orgasm.
"Nynghh—Fuck, baby, your ass is milking me for every," —thrust-—"fucking" —thrust—"drop"—thrust—“Nnnyygggfuuuuuck.”
He slumps over me, my chest squelching into the pool of my own cum as we suck in breaths and try to come down.
Marcus gently kisses my back as he lifts himself off me, only to plop down bare-assed on the desk chair. He scoots the chair behind me, running his hands up and down my legs and over my ass. Then he spreads me wide, leaning in so close I can feel his warm breath on my skin. "Fuck, Princess. You're wrecked." His lips dot kisses over my ass. "How do you feel?"
My head is spinning, my muscles are sore, and my ass is aching.
