his fingers through the sides of my hair, pulling it from the bun I have on top of my head.
I don’t say anything. I flick my tongue out and lick the dollop of pre-cum from the slit, moaning at the salty burst spreading across my tongue.
“Fuck,” he groans, hips thrusting from the wet attention I gave him. His hands tighten around my head. “I’m not going to last with you down there,” he admits and that only spurs me on.
I wrap my lips around the width, mouth stretching wide to accommodate him, and just as I thought, I have to stuff him in my mouth. My eyes water from the pinch of pain in the crease of my lips. Do I have a small mouth or is he really that wide?
“How do you feel so fucking good? Do you have any idea how bad I want to fuck your face right now? Do you?”
I shake my head the best I can and then skim my fingers up his thigh and cup his sack, tugging on it for added pleasure.
He bowls over, grunting when I bob quicker, and his nails dig into my scalp. His hips begin to thrust, small, shallow strokes. “Jo, oh, fuck yes, that mouth.” He gains confidence with every shallow thrust, dragging his cock out more until only the tip of the flared crown is behind my teeth. He pushes forward, sending himself to the back of my throat until I’m gagging and drooling down my chin. “I’m going to fill that mouth, baby. You’re going to fucking take it, aren’t you?”
I don’t answer because I can’t. He pulls himself from my lips, dragging his nerves across my tongue. He pulls free, and my spit drips from his intimidating stalk. He grabs himself and slaps me on each cheek, then my mouth.
I’m the nail to his hammer, and I want him to do whatever it takes to pound me into the damn ground.
“I asked you a question, Jo. You’re going to drink me down, and then you know what’s going to happen?”
“What?” I ask breathlessly, inching toward his cock.
“Then, you’re going to lay on your side. I’m going to slide into that sweet cunt, fuck it, fill it, and go to sleep with my cock buried in you until the next morning.” He doesn’t give me time to answer; he slides himself between my lips again and fucks my face.
Without remorse.
Without second guessing himself.
Without caring if he’s splitting my mouth in two.
And I love every fucking second of it.
“Oh, shit. Jo, oh, fuck. I’m going to come,” he warns and fucks my face harder, his balls swinging and hitting my chin. “Fuuuuck,” he moans, thrusting until he lodges himself in the back of my throat as streams of his cum drown me. I swallow the best I can, cough, gag, choke, and the more sounds of struggle I make around him, the more cum that leaves his slit.
Just when I think he’s done, he pulls out, and I watch a beautiful pearly drop fall from his tip onto the floor. He rips my shirt over my head and unbuttons my shorts before sliding them down my leg, careful not to hurt my stitches. “I want to eat this pussy so bad,” he groans, staring at my wet sheath that’s begging for his attention. “But I know that will hurt your leg, and the last thing I want is to hurt you.” He turns me to my side, my thighs touching, and since the position doesn’t tug on the skin where my stitches are, it feels fine.
He’s always thinking of me even when he’s thinking about himself.
“I do want a taste of this ass first,” he says, nipping at my breast before licking down and around my ribcage. “Don’t move. I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, okay? The moment you feel any pain, you better tell me, or I’m going to spank this ass until it’s raw.” He ends his statement by sucking his lips against my skin. His fingers don’t touch my legs at all, keeping in mind my injuries.
I love how his hands map my body. It’s like he knows every part of me that’s hurt and every part of me that’s on fire.
His lips slide down my rear, kissing, biting, sucking the plump flesh, and he parts my cheeks. With an animalistic snarl, he buries his face between my crease and his tongue plunges into my forbidden hole, lapping at the tight ring.
I