Page 348 of S is for SEX

VEE. Climbing deep into the bowels of the human mind, determining what causes us to be happy, what causes us to be sad, and understanding why is a task that is not able to be confirmed with any degree of accuracy. It is and has always been a matter of opinion. I don’t particularly care for obtaining an opinion of what makes me happy or why.

I’m always certain when I’m happy, though.

I smile.

Michael’s hand was on the back of my head, his foot was on the base of my skull, and his cock was balls deep in my dripping wet pussy. The groan that escaped my lips sounded like I was being murdered, but inside I was smiling.

A smile that one person had control of.

The person that had had found an extra inch of cock somewhere and shoved it, along with the other ten inches, deep inside of me.

“I love fucking you, Vee. You know why?” he asked as he pressed my face into the comforter with even more force.

“Why?” I groaned into the comforter.

“It sounded like you said why. I’ll assume that’s what you said,” he grunted as he continued to fuck me as if he was on some form of a time limit - racing against the clock to get as many strokes in as he could before the bell rang - ending the fuck-a-thon.

His cock felt like it was in my throat. I don’t know who invented this entire head steppin’ thing, but whoever did was a fucking genius. Maybe it wasn’t for everyone, but for me it was damned sure everything I needed at this moment. I was helpless, and I was so full of cock I felt like I was going to explode. My calves felt as if they were on fire from standing on my tip-toes for the last fifteen minutes while Michael pounded in and out of my pussy.

“Because you know who’s in fucking charge. Now, remind me, who’s in charge, Vee?” he screamed.

“You, Boss,” the sound of my screaming was muffled by the three inch thick comforter that my face was being forced into.

“I like that. Who’s fuckin’ cock is in ya, Vee? Who’s?” he screamed as he pressed his foot against my skull.

“Yours is Boss,” I screamed.

I felt his fingers dig into my scalp as he pounded his massive cock in and out of my swollen pussy. Each stroke filled my body with a tingling sensation that was orgasmic, but not an orgasm. Whatever absolute idiot ever made the statement that size doesn’t matter has obviously never had Mike Ripton’s cock inside of them.

Size does matter.

And right now, as I reached climax for the third time, it was all that mattered.

“Oh my fucking…fuck me god…damn. Michael…I…fucking…ahhhhhh…fuck…I…ahhhh…love you,” I screamed as I felt my pussy clench into what was another mind-blowing orgasm that made my ears ring.

He didn’t slow down. In fact, as I came, his foot pressed harder against my skull. I felt as if I were being stretched in a wooden rack as his cock stretched its way in and out.

I was in heaven.

A heaven full of thick, hard, throbbing, pierced cocks.

My heaven.

My pussy was so full of cock Michael couldn’t have slipped one of his toothpicks between his cock and my pussy. It throbbed with every stroke. It felt as if it were going to tear open each time he smashed his balls against my throbbing clit. It was actually painful. A tremendous pain I now could not imagine living without. I bit into the fabric of the comforter as he forcefully pounded himself in and out of me and prayed.

God –

Please help me find the common sense to make choices to allow this man to become happy and remain happy, because I never want him to stop fucking me.

Never.

Amen.

I felt his hand release my head. As the pressure from his foot lifted from my head, instead of immediate relief, I felt disappointment. I didn’t want this to end. I wanted him to abuse me, own me, and make sure I knew who was in charge. This sexual position was a prime example of what it was about sex with Michael that I loved.

I felt him slowly pull his cock from inside of me.

No, don’t stop. Step on me some more.

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