Page 47 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

Dylan’s Apartment, Hudson Yards, New York

“Fuck me, Dyl.”

Magical fucking words indeed, and who am I to refuse? I don’t think my dick has ever been harder as I take in the perfect vision in front of me. Jessie is on her hands and knees with her pert little backside in the air, begging for my cock.

Her legs are parted in silent invitation, her perfect pink folds wet with her arousal. She wants me. No one else. And that’s a god-like feeling right there.

I run my fingers up and down her soaking wet heat, and she arches her back, raising her hips higher.

“You want my dick, Jessie?”

“Yes.” She’s hissing now. She’s desperate. I’m taking too long, and she’s pissed off at not getting what she so desperately wants. I sink two fingers into her, and she groans her pleasure. She tries to press back to take more, but she can’t as her wrists have been bound to the bed frame with my tie, so she’s restricted.

Positioning myself behind her, I rub the head of my rock-hard shaft up and down her entrance, lubricating the blunt tip with her slickness. I press inside her—just an inch. Then pull back out. I do it over and over.

“Dylan!”

“Beg for my cock, Jessie.”

“I will not beg.” She hisses as she yanks on her bindings. It’s a half-hearted attempt at best. There’s no escape. In truth, she doesn’t want to.

In direct contrast to her professional self, Jessie likes to be told what to do in bed. Held down. Tied up. We’ve not gone beyond that yet.

Where’s the rush.

I don’t know where her boundaries lie. I’m not even sure she does. But hopefully, we've got a whole lifetime together to discover that.

I rub my hands over the smooth skin of her arse, then slap one cheek hard, leaving a beautiful red handprint.

Right now, it’s mine. She’s mine.

“Fucking asshole.” She swears at me, but it’s clear she loves it as her arousal is now coating her thighs.

“Beg.”

“No.”

“Beg.”

“No!”

“Then you’re not getting my dick.”

“Please.”

“I didn’t hear you, Jessie. What was that?”

“I said please, you asshole!”

“No need to shout.”

Gripping her hip tightly with one hand, I use the other to rub my dick up and down her slickness once more, and then I thrust in to the hilt. I grunt, my eyes immediately rolling to the back of my head as her hot walls clench around my cock. Embracing me. Welcoming me home. Sheathing my dick just fucking right.

“I need more, Dyl. Please,” she whines, her face now flat on the surface of the bed, her eyes closed.

“You’re a greedy girl. But because you said please, you’re going to get more. Way more.”

I pull out, then push back in. Slowly. Over and over. Her little pussy tightens around me perfectly every time.

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