Page 44 of Captured Fantasy

The wail I’d held back burst from my lips. It was a good thing he had me by the wrists because I almost collapsed.

He pulled back as my pleasure ebbed and I looked down, meeting his dark eyes. A storm of desire raged in them and it took what little breath I had away.

“You have the softest, prettiest little pussy I’ve ever had my mouth on,” he said.

“That was…amazing,” I breathed.

“Think you can give me one more, Mrs. Russo?”

Could I?

I shivered, heat rising between my thighs at his words. Keeping his eyes on me, he snaked his tongue out with aching slowness and dragged it up my entrance, flicking my clit hard enough to make my hips jerk. I swallowed against the fluttering pulse in my throat and nodded, digging my fingers into the bed covers.

“That’s my good girl,” he breathed, turning my thigh so he could slap my ass.

I fell back, blinking up at the ceiling, my chest warm and blissfully numb. The absolute audacity of this man, who was seven years younger than me, to show up at my house, make me come, call me his good girl and slap me across the ass. My back arced as he buried his face in my pussy, lapping over my entrance. His tongue curled, going lower until it flicked over my asshole for the barest second.

“What are you doing?” I jerked upright.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You love it.”

My toes curled and my lower back arced. He cocked his head, dipping his mouth lower, and his tongue hovered over my pussy.

“Want me to touch you there, Mrs. Russo?”

His fingers slid up, tracing along my hips until his hand lay flat on my stomach. Part of me was horrified that he would talk about that part of me, much less put his mouth on it and pleasure me that way. My stomach clenched, but not from disgust or discomfort.

“You want it,” he breathed.

I swallowed again and my lips parted. “Not yet,” I whispered. “Not tonight.”

He relented, propping himself up on his elbows.

“You can never tell anyone about what we did tonight,” I said, turning pleading eyes on him.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Russo,” he said, pushing me further up on the bed. “You can stay pretty and perfect in your house with those frilly white curtains so everyone thinks you’re a good, little widow. I won’t tell anyone you let me defile you.”

He flipped me onto my stomach and slapped me hard across the ass. The vibrations shook my hips, going deep into my pussy. A quiet moan escaped my lips and I pressed my face into the bed, pushing my ass up. I heard him laugh softly and his weight dipped the bed on either side of me.

“You’re a bad girl, aren’t you, Mrs. Russo?” His finger trailed down my spine and he took a handful of my ass and squeezed it.

My mind was blank as I ground my hips back, aching for him to push his fingers between my thighs. There was a short silence and his weight lifted from the bed.

“You stay there while I shower,” he said, touching my ankle.

“I thought you were going to make me come again,” I said.

He was on the bed again, on his hands and knees over me like an animal crouching over its prey. I shivered and bit my lip. His hand slid up my spine, gripping me by the nape of the neck. He drew my head back and lowered his mouth to my ear.

“I’ve been fantasizing about you sucking me off for weeks,” he breathed. “I’d like you to do it when I get back from cleaning all this blood off. Then I’ll give you what you deserve, baby.”

I turned my head, burying my face into the quilt, and moaned. I wanted to see what was beneath the fabric of his boxers. I needed to wrap my fingers around his hot length and take him in my mouth. I longed to hear him praise me while I pleasured him, to cradle my head in his hands and stroke back my hair. To tell me I was his beautiful slut while he came on my tongue.

“You’re so fucking perfect, all ruffles and lace and shit,” he said softly. “Those sundresses you wear drive me wild, Mrs. Russo, they get me wondering if you’ve got panties on underneath.”

He disappeared into the bathroom. I lay there quietly, content to wait for him. After a while, the door unlocked and opened. I kept my palms flat on the bed, my cheek pressed to the quilt. Footfalls moved closer and his hand, warm from the shower, slid down my hips. He pulled me onto my knees, keeping my chest to the bed. I shivered, enjoying the shameful sensation of being completely exposed to him.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the prettiest cunt?” he murmured.

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