She Wants It Rough

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She Wants It Rough Page 12

by Meegan Melons


  My head jerks to another heavy blow against my ass and I moan long and deep.

  “Say it!”

  My pussy quivers with anticipation, a rising heat that shudders my insides to the hilt.

  SMACK!

  A gush of seeping hot fluid between my thighs.

  “Say it! ‘I hit Mr. Jameson’s car on purpose!’” He says, another hand coming down.

  SMACK!

  “Mmmmm…” My hips gyrate to the ecstatic shockwave landing between my open ass cheeks.

  “I don’t fucking believe it!” He swipes at my ass crack, spreading my juices between two fingers, examining them with a look of disgust. “Are you—are you enjoying this?”

  SMACK!

  He backhands my ass, his hard knuckles bruising the soft tissue. “Admit it! You did it on purpose!”

  He unleashes a flurry of unrelenting spanks. My head rolls on its axis as I groan, the tight walls of my pussy clenching to the pain and pleasure of every strike.

  “Okay! I’ll fucking admit it, okay?” For a moment, he stays his hand. “I hit your fucking car on purpose!” For another moment there is nothing but silence.

  “Because?” An index finger traces the red handprints plastered on my cheeks. The weight of his jeans thuds against the carpet floor.

  “Because—because I’m a dirty little slut!” Hearing the words come out of my mouth only made me wetter. It feels so good to hear the truth come out for once—makes me want even more. More punishment.

  “And…”

  “And—and what?”

  SMACK!

  My head flings backward, my damp hair clinging in thick clumps between my shoulders. A line of sweat runs the channel of my spine down to the small of my back.

  “And you did it to get fucked in the ass!” His firm hand hovers inches from my tender cheeks. The stinging pain branching out to every nerve ending with perverse pleasure.

  “Okay, Fuck! It’s true….” Tears gush from my swollen red eyes as I hammer fists into the leather cushions. “I did it all just to….” My voice catches in my throat, his hand grips one cheek like a vise and twists.

  The pain is like a bullet shooting through my insides, ricocheting between my ribs. His hand dives beneath my panties and finds the wet clit there. Two fingers dip between my wet folds, sending my body into a chaotic fit of pain and pleasure

  “…. To get fucked in the ass!”

  The truth never felt so good. Mr. Jameson spits into his hand, coating saliva around the swollen head of his cock. Is he actually going to do it?

  “Ungh!” My toes curl, my ass clenches reflexively. The tip pushes into the puckered entrance, its slick lubrication parting my walls despite the resistance.

  I squirm, shaking my head, biting my lip to fight the pain. He spanks me again and my ass bucks against his rigid pelvis. My slippery entrance gives way and my back arches when his enormous girth slips inside me. I moan out in ecstatic wails, head tilted up toward the single ray of light illuminating the room.

  Mr. Jameson pumps himself into my tight hole, gripping me by the waist. He grunts and groans with every deep penetration, plundering my tiny asshole with vigorous thrusting.

  “Yes! Fuck me!” My body jerks and spasms. My tight walls clenching around his magnificent size.

  My head droops and I watch him entering me, my supple tits bouncing together, the tendons of his thighs flaring with every hump. There’s a strange pressure building above my hips as he stretches my tight insides. My dripping pussy flutters to the sensation of his giant balls slapping against my slit.

  My legs shiver beneath me when I feel his girth slipping out of my clenched walls, my torso going limp over the couch’s arm, ass high in the air. It jiggles to another firm swipe across its scarlet cheeks, my startled yelp muffled in a throw pillow.

  “Spread your legs.” He spanks the side of my thigh and my knees buckle, bowing outward, the weight of my lower half supported on curled tiptoes.

  The tip of his engorged head slips between my sensitive lips, teases my clit. I can sense the pulse of each throbbing vein as it circles my virgin entrance. Is Mr. Jameson really going to enter me without a condom?

  But the fears and the reservations fall away in the instant of being penetrated, with nothing between the beat of his stiff dick and the delicate walls of my tightness. Mr. Jameson groans as my pussy gives way to his size, quivering, accepting him inside me.

  I wince at first to the pain, clutching the couch cushions and stifling a scream. But it quickly fades in the electric stimulation of his cock spreading me apart. My walls wraps tight around every inch, taking him inside with a wet, warm embrace.

  “You’re so fucking… tight!” Mr. Jameson moans, thrusting himself deeper. I buck my ass against his hips to match him, and my eyes flutter when he bottoms out at my cervix. “Agh!!” He grunts, feeling the grip of my walls on his cock.

  As my hips swivel against him, my body succumbs to the mounting pressure in my core. A liquid heat of ecstasy spills from within, exploring my insides, warming every extremity with electric fire. The orgasmic energy sends me into a fit of tremors as Mr. Jameson’s cock begins to twitch and swell at my cervix.

  I moan out when I feel his hot spunk filling my uterus and my body writhes. My hips buck wildly against him, coaxing the cum from his dick while he pumps himself into me with orgasmic fervor. The thick stuff jets out in endless milky streams, coating every bit of my insides. We groan together, riding the wave of our climax, lost in a sea of bliss.

  Mr. Jameson’s torso falls limp over the small of my back, slipping in the sweat of our bodies. He huffs and heaves, trembling on top of me, still ejaculating. My ass sways beneath his pelvis, milking every last drop of thick cum until I feel the weight of his body relax.

  Lying there, ass battered and raw with Mr. Jameson balls deep in my pussy, I feel more content than I’ve ever felt.

  And yet, there’s still something I have to get off my chest. It’d feel wrong not to disclose what’s been eating away at me ever since he started fucking me without a condom.

  “There’s…something else I should tell you.” The truth is I’ve never been on any kind of birth control.

  “I’m unprotected,” I say. Only this time I’m not talking about car insurance.

  Filled by Santa

  "Fuck you, Mom!" The brass knob bounces against the firmness of my big ass as the door behind me slams shut. I'm used to my giant ass getting in the way, but it's embarrassing when I'm trying to make a point. It's worth having though, even if just to watch the guys drool over.

  I'm totally over my mom's bullshit, though. She has been such a bitch to me ever since I started hanging over at Mr. Michael's house. I'm nineteen fucking years old now--it's time for her to get off my shit.

  "You're just trying to use that poor man! You just want him to fuck you like the little slut that you are." It might be true, but she's still a bitch. I won't tolerate that sort of promiscuity in my house! Get out!"

  So I left. And I won't be coming back, either. Who gives a fuck if it's Christmas Eve? I'm going to stay over at Mr. Michael's house tonight. And I'm going to be damn sure to get him in my pants this time.

  Besides, every man deserves to know what it's like to be with a confident woman. Mr. Michaels should know what it feels like to put himself balls deep inside a tight pussy. I want him to know the pleasure of fucking this fine ass from behind, watching my pussy swallow his enormous cock.

  I'll squeeze the base of his cock with the tightness of pussy while he's gripping my ass, desperate not to cum inside. Too bad for Mr. Michaels--I'm a naughty little bitch when it comes to getting I want. As hard as he'll try to stop himself, I'm going to work his cock like an expert whore until he fills my insides.

  Then I'll taste his semen when it drips from my hole and moan for more.

  The truth is I want Mr. Michaels to get me pregnant. I fell in love with the idea of having a kid when I started babysitting his son. I want to have a child
just like his cute little Billy, and Mr. Michaels is the perfect father.

  He's intelligent, handsome, and most importantly, super rich. Ever since Mr. Michaels started paying me to watch his kid three times a week I've been looking for any opportunity to seduce the man. Lord knows I've tried.

  I desperately want to know what it's like to have a life growing inside me. My maternal instinct craves the safety and security of a man like Mr. Michaels who has shit together. And I would be a kick ass housewife for him. He'd never have to worry about the house chores, and I'd always be that tight, warm pussy to come home to.

  Mr. Michaels doesn't even know that I'm a virgin. But that doesn't mean I don't know how to work it. I've seen enough porn to know what a guy wants. And hell, I'd let him do just about anything to me, so long as I don't have to deal with my broke ass, lazy bitch mother anymore.

  More than anything I want Mr. Michaels to cum inside me. I fantasize about him taking me however he likes and finishing by ejaculating his seed deep up inside me. Mr. Michaels will make me a mother.

  ******

  I show up in my sluttiest outfit, wearing a tight black skirt so short that part of my ass is peeking out the bottom. When he answers the door his eyes go wide in shock. I think I caught his lip trembling when he stutters,

  "C--Carmen. Please, c--come in." Someone is gonna be cumming. "Billy is down for a nap. I'm glad you’re here. I need to run out for a bit."

  "What's the rush?" I asked, placing a soft hand gently on his shoulder. I start to message the area a bit, saying, "You look so stressed. Here--let me relax you a bit before you go..." I motion for him to follow me down the hallway, toward the couch in the living room.

  The interior of Mr. Michael's house is illuminated by colorful blinking lights. The colors of Christmas that bring back the few fond memories of me and Mom, happy together so many years ago.

  The giant tree in the corner across from the fireplace is beautifully decorated. There is a pile of finely wrapped presents, enough stacked on top one another to fill the full space at the base of the tree.

  He must have had a professional do it for him, because I know he sure as hell isn't that creative. That or he's banging some other chick I don't know about yet. After tonight though, I'll be the only woman in his life from now on, you can be sure of that. Mr. Michaels is my man now.

  "Oh! What's that?" I ask, pointing to the mistletoe hanging above the entrance to the living room, pretending to act surprised. "You know what that means..." I giggle, smiling like the clever little slut that I am. I had put it up there the last time I was here in preparation for tonight.

  Mr. Michaels takes a quick half step backward, looking stunned. I roll my eyes at him playfully. "It's just a little kiss, silly!" I take a bold step toward him and giggle again as he cowers away slightly. I move in closer to reach a hand behind his neck. My fingers travel smoothly, up the nape of his neck and comb through his dark hair.

  I apply a bit of force from behind, compelling him to come closer. My lips part a bit, and my tongue emerges, tracing a slow, sensual circle around my lips. Mr. Michaels is still resisting, so I tug on his head with a bit more pressure.

  Then he rushes in for a quick, awkward peck on the cheek and pulls away, avoiding eye contact and shifting his weight. This is going to be harder than I thought.

  "No, no! A real kiss!" I stamp my feet and my lips curl with a devilish grin. No way I was going to let him get off that easy. Mr. Michaels lets out an exasperated sigh. He's acting like a stubborn child.

  "Carmen, I--" he pauses to cough, then continues, "I just don't think that would be appropriate..."

  "Have you ever been with a virgin?" I ask, completely undeterred. Mr. Michaels shakes his head in disbelief.

  "A--a what?"

  "You heard me..." I take another small step closer. "Do you have any idea what it's like to stick your cock in virgin pussy?"

  "Carm--"

  "I'll let you find out..." I move a deft hand across my cleavage, peeling back the cup of my bra with pink manicured nails. "I'll let you fuck these tits too, if you like."

  Mr. Michaels is frozen in place, looking simply dumbfounded. He must not be used to a girl with such confidence. Still, I'll have him between my legs in no time.

  "I wonder if I could fit your whole cock down my naughty little throat..." I smile at him and bring an index finger to my lips. I glide the flat of my tongue up the finger, then insert it into my mouth and start sucking. I giggle some more before telling him, "No one will ever have to know..."

  My eyelids droop and my head inches closer to his face when I feel the tension in his neck relaxing. Mr. Michaels is giving in. As the space between us gets smaller, my eyelids shut softly and my lips part wider.

  His lips connect with the pillowy wetness of mine. I stroke the spine of his neck and feel the small hairs rising up. The kiss is electrifying. My whole body shivers. I can feel myself getting wet.

  "Mmmm..." I moan while our lips are still connected. My hand dives into the front of his jeans as I hold him against me and I feel around for his cock. I wrap my thumb and forefinger around his growing shaft before he shoves me away forcefully.

  "Hey, what are you doing?" He grabs me by the shoulders to shake me. "You know we can't do that!"

  "C'mon! Don't be such a prude!" I giggle, reaching for his pants again. But Mr. Michaels bats my hand away. He's starting to look a little pissed off.

  "Don't make me ask you to leave my house on Christmas Eve!"

  "Please, don't! I don't have anywhere else to go!" I work up some fake tears and begin sobbing into my hands.

  "What do you mean?" He sighs and wraps his arms around me, patting me gently on the back for comfort.

  "Mom--that bitch kicked me out!" I lift my head up to stare Mr. Michaels in the eyes. Black mascara is rolling down my pale cheeks. "I want--I want to be here, with you tonight!"

  "Carmen I--" He wipes a tear from my chin with his thumb, saying, "I'm sorry..."

  "Do you--do you like me, Mr. Michaels?" I ask him, sniffling.

  "Of course I do, Carmen. It's just--you're so young, and..."

  "But you think I'm hot, don't you?"

  "You know I care about y--"

  "I want you to fuck me." I grab hold to the crotch of his jeans and give the stiffness of his cock underneath a firm squeeze. "I want you to fuck me until you cum... inside me."

  "Carm--" He tries to say, but I cut him off by leaning in for another kiss. The slickness of my tongue wets his pursed lips. At first, every part of him resists the kiss. His eyes are squinted and the muscles of his neck are tense.

  My hand at his crotch moves to massage his inner thigh. I let out a soft moan, tracing my tongue from the cleft of his chin and up across his lips. My hand, seeming to move on its own, dips into his jeans again. My fingers wrap his rock hard shaft. As much as he might try to hide his feelings for me, his cock doesn't lie.

  Mr. Michaels' eyes roll back. He exhales a deep sigh of warm breath and my tongue darts past his lips to graze across his perfect white teeth. His clenched jaw relaxes and our tongues swirl together in a passionate kiss.

  I knew it! Mr. Michaels does have feelings for me! Now all I have to do is get him in my pants...

  "What are you guys doing?" Little Billy asks, staring up at us with one eyebrow raised. Shit, not now!

  Mr. Michaels pulls back and my hand quickly slips out from his jeans.

  "N--nothing, son!" Mr. Michaels says, adding an awkward laugh at the end. "I--uh, need to run out for a bit." He turns to me, avoiding eye contact. "Carmen, could you--watch him for me, I'll be back..." He spins around and marches toward the door. When it slams shut, Billy asks me,

  "Do you two like each other or something?"

  ******

  Billy and I are sitting in the living room, watching Christmas specials wondering when the hell his father is going to be back. My pussy is wet and ready for him.

  "It's getting late. Why don't you put some milk and cooki
es out for Santa?" I tell Billy, who looks like he's getting anxious. Must be nice to be a kid on Christmas Eve.

  I'm helping him place the plate of cookies in front of the fireplace when we hear a loud clang coming from up above.

  "Ah--ow!" Someone yells. It sounds like it's coming from in the fireplace. We turn to look at each other, and I see Billy's eyes light up with glee.

  "Santa?" He whispers to me. We turn our attention back to the fireplace, straining our necks to peer up into the dark shaft. A black cloud of smoke fills the living room when two black boots land on the brick floor of the chimney.

 

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