Page 77 of Plentywood
I didn’t turn around while Ben left the room. After a minute of staring at the recliner in front of me, he tapped my shoulder and tossed a condom and lube on the floor beside us.
“Where do you want me?” I asked.
“Where you are, boy,” he answered, repositioning me to face him while I remained on my knees. He lifted my chin and slapped his cock across my lips. “More,” he demanded.
Hunt moved his feet apart, spreading his stance wider, and pulled me on his dick. His power eclipsed even my greatest fantasy. I resisted opening my mouth to test his dominance, but he pried my mouth open and shoved his cock to the back of my throat.
A rush of sexual adrenaline hit my veins and sent a five-alarm warning to the rest of me.Jackpot, Ben!This man read me like a book he’d devoured fifty times. Was I that easy to read? Orwas he thinking the exact same thing? Maybe I was fulfilling the same addiction as he was filling for me. Whatever my addiction. He was fast becoming my supplier.
Hunter pulled me to my feet and smothered my mouth, tasting himself on me. He held me softly and tenderly, as if the scene just moments before hadn’t existed. This was the quiet part. The love part. He had the dominate component on lockdown, but he somehow knew I needed the tenderness too. How?
“You are beautiful, boy. Every single thing about your body is perfection to me.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “You make me feel incredible.”
“Tell me what you need, boy.”
“I already did,” I reminded him.
His hands traveled to my bare ass, and he gripped each cheek roughly. “Tell me again,” he insisted. “In detail. Everything that you need me to do for you, boy.”
I placed my hands on his expansive chest and looked up and into his eyes. “I want you to eat my ass, sheriff.”
“And then what?” he pushed. “I said to tell me everything.”
I moved a hand down to his cock. He was solid and thick, precum dripping from the head of his dick. “And then I want this inside me, sheriff,” I said. “As far and as deep as you can get it.”
“There will be no complaining when I fuck your pretty ass—hard,” he stated, sliding a finger into my crack and searching for my pucker. “And I don’t want to hear you complaining about the size, boy.”
“I promise,” I whispered. “And I don’t want a two-pump chump,” I added, looking at him and grinning. He’d been warned. I spoke to what I wanted.
“Trust me, boy. I don’t tap-out until my boy is limp and begging for me to stop.”
I swear to God that I could’ve shot my load at that exact moment. His words and the way he delivered them? I believed him like I was being fed the gospel by a convention of clergymen.
“Where do you want me, sheriff?”
“Are you gonna call me sheriff often?” he asked.
“Only if you promise to wear your uniform on several occasions when we fuck,” I replied. “So yeah. Definitely.”
“Hang on,” he spat, heading toward what I thought was his bedroom, his big man’s ass bouncing as he walked away.Christ!He was such a dude.
Hunter rejoined me in a few seconds. My eyes widened and I damn near protested. “No way,” I gasped,actuallyprotesting.
He held the handcuffs up and grinned. “If you wanna act like a bad boy, you’ll be treated as such.” He spun me around. “Hands behind your back.”
Unsure why and hopefully not going to regret the decision, I did as he said. He deftly had me cuffed in mere moments, sliding his free hand around my waist.
“What the fuc…?” I cried.
Hunter picked me up from behind and carried me to his bedroom, standing me at the foot of the bed. I looked around the room at the neat and very precise way he kept it. He was a man who enjoyed order. That much was obvious.
His uniform jacket was hanging on a hook on the closet door. The big sheriff’s badge gleaming in the dim light. A handgun laid on the top of a dresser. The entire scene should’ve scared the shit out of me. But that wasn’t my initial thought. I was in the middle of one of my hottest fantasies. But still.
“You wouldn’t hurt me, would you?” I asked, feeling goosebumps creeping up my spine.
“Would you like me to?” he growled.
