She Wants It Rough

by Meegan Melons

  But my mind goes blank—lost in the haze of another climax that pours down my extremities like molten ecstasy.

  I wail as loud as I can with Jason’s cock lodged in my throat. My pussy quivers around Brent’s cock as his warm cum fills my insides. My walls squeeze tight in orgasmic spasms, coaxing the load from his balls in thick spurts.

  Jason’s knees begin to quake. His grip on my jaw tightens and holds my head in place while his hot spunk fills the very depths of my throat.

  I want to gag, but swallow hard instead. Salty cum continues to jet from his pulsating cock and my tongue laps along the twitching shaft. Bubbly spit rolls from my lips, down his ball sac.

  Our bodies quake together; my holes accepting their endless streams of cum at both ends until my arms and legs begin to buckle.

  My heart flutters and my limbs give way. At last, my full weight collapses on the floor in a mess of cum and spit and fluids.

  “Congratulations,” Madeline claps her hands unenthusiastically, “welcome to Triple Pi.”

  Without Protection

  “How cute!” I hold the tiny pink tank top up to my tits, jumping in place, giddy with excitement. “Thanks so much, Mr. Johnson!” I smile and cross the threshold of my front door to wrap my arms around him.

  No, it’s not my birthday. In fact, it’s not even a gift so much as eye candy for Mr. Johnson. He’s been bringing me scant clothing for the past month ever since I moved in next door.

  “I thought you might want something a little cooler… since it’s almost summer and all.” But really, he just likes to see me prancing around in the cute little outfits he picks out for me. Most girls would get totally weirded out by such a gesture—maybe going so far as to get a restraining order. But not me. I accept every one of Mr. Johnson’s gifts happily and graciously.

  “I just love it! You’re the best, Mr. Johnson!” I lean in on one foot to give him a little peck on the cheek. His eyes sort of glaze over as he rubs the spot where I kissed him, totally mesmerized by my tiny affection.

  He says I deserve them, being a poor nineteen-year-old college girl and all. He has given me enough by now to replace my entire wardrobe. So I gladly oblige him and make sure he gets a nice view of my ass and tits whenever possible.

  Last week I stopped by his place, holding a fresh batch of brownies below a low cut tank. He got so flustered that he had to come up with some excuse about being on an important call or something. He just closed the door in my face! I’m not the kind of girl who is used to getting rejected.

  The truth is I want him. And not just his body, which is exceptionally hot for his age, but everything.

  Mr. Johnson is probably the wealthiest man in the neighborhood. Pervert or not, I’d fuck him any day of the week if it means I get a piece of that. He can make his little whore and dress me up in anything he wants, so long as I get to drive that BMW.

  Sometimes I like to finger myself while I watch him cleaning it on the weekends, thinking of the things I’d do with all that money.

  And for an older man, Mr. Johnson is fucking hot. He’s totally ripped, and still looks a decade younger than his age. If sex is what he’s after, I’ll give it all to him—hell, he can put it wherever he wants.

  The problem is, the guy is clueless when it comes to making a move.

  I’ve been waiting weeks now for him to open up a little—and let my legs open up to him. But every attempt at getting in his pants so far has failed.

  “How ‘bout I try it on now?” I say, getting at the hem of my shirt, preparing to lift it off.

  “Wait—you mean right here—now?”

  “Well, yeah! Why not? I don’t mind…” I smirk a bit, letting my words trail off as I lift my shirt off over my head, revealing my black lace push up bra.

  His eyes go wide at the sight of my busty cleavage, now in full view for him to admire. I take my time slipping on the top—ample time to burn a lasting image in his mind. Then his eyes avert and I can’t help but let out a soft, frustrated sigh.

  It’s going to be awfully difficult to get him to cum inside of me if I can’t even get him to look at me.

  It’s one of those really naughty desires I can’t stop thinking about ever since Mr. Johnson started showing up at me door twice a week with skimpy outfits for me to wear. It’s sort of like a game we play—only I’m tired of playing now. I’m done with flirtation. I’m ready to get knocked up.

  Getting impregnated by Mr. Johnson wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I wasn’t planning on having a baby so young, but life is full of surprises.

  Just the thought of getting drilled by my horny neighbor when my Mom isn’t home has my panties getting all wet. I can only imagine what it would feel like to have him ejaculate inside me while he’s holding my ass, fucking me from behind. I’d work his cock like the little slut he wants me to be, milking every lost drop of cum from his stiff dick.

  Even if he got me pregnant, it would all be worth it just to live in that moment of him filling my insides with his hot load. I’d give him the best orgasm of his life, if only he’d relax a little.

  “Well? What do you think?”

  “They’re, umm,” his eyes are shifting and he’s stumbling over his words, “I think they’re gorgeous…”

  “Not my tits, silly!” I say, laughing. “My present! Does it look good on me?” He looks completely embarrassed.

  “Oh… uh, sorry. I—it looks nice.” There’s an awkward pause, and his attention has moved to my doorstep. Mr. Johnson always looks so damn cute when he’s nervous.

  “Do you… want to come in for some tea… or something?” I ask, not knowing how to get him inside. As often as he comes by, he’s still never been inside the house.

  “I—well I ought to get back,” he says, turning away. But I reach out and place a soft hand on his shoulder to catch him before he starts walking.

  “Just for a little bit?” I fake a pout and give him my best puppy dog eyes, “Please?”

  Or maybe I’ll just take you into my bedroom and let you cum inside my ass. If only I could be so direct.

  “Okay, just for a little bit, then.”

  “Yay!” I grab his hand, guiding him past the doorway and into the living room. “Have a seat. Relax. I’ll make us a little snack.”

  I spend some time in the kitchen, pretending to find us something to eat, doing my best to act like a good potential housewife. But really I’m just trying to figure out how I’m going to get him to fuck me.

  “There’s some tea on the stove,” I say, returning with a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwich wedges. “Here, have a bite,” I take a seat close to him, leaning in to feed him one. I can tell he’s feeling anxious about my close proximity when I brush his leg with the smoothness of my bare skin. He tries to inch away from me but I’ve got his mouth stuffed before he even has a chance.

  He goes on chewing in silence, knees grasping on to the tops of his shaking knees, looking totally uncomfortable. How the fuck am I going to get this man to open up a little?

  “You’ve got a little bit on your lip,” I say, giggling. My index finger manicured in dark red sweeps across his trembling bottom lip and wipes it clean. I bring the finger up to my lips and suck the bit of jelly off, letting out a soft moan as my eyelids droop, dribbling some on to my chest.

  “Shit! Not my new shirt!” I get up, rubbing at the spot that’s now a purple stain. “I’m so sorry! You just got this for me!” I tell him, lifting it off.

  “I—it’s okay, Tammy. Don’t worry about it.” His face is showing the same expression as before, wide-eyed and locked on to my breasts.

  “Oh, no! It even got on my bra!” I lie, pretending to look upset. While his gaze remains fixed there, a devilish grin spreads wide across my face as a deft hand reaches behind my back.

  “I’ll have to throw this in the wash, too” I say, unclasping the bra.

  “Hey—wait!” He throws his hands out in front of him to cover his view as the bra flops t
o the ground. “Tammy! Don’t let me see that!”

  He needs to stop being a prude already.

  “Don’t be silly…” I say, gently lowering his hands. But he is still squinting, refusing to look at my tits. I can’t help giggling at the sight of him. Seducing Mr. Johnson is going to be harder than I thought,

  “Look—we’re good friends, aren’t we?” I say, running an index finger from his shoulder down to the bicep.

  “Well yeah, but—“

  “And friends trust each other right?”

  “But, Tammy—“

  “I trust you, Mr. Johnson,” I take a few quick steps toward him and bend over, letting my supple tits jiggle and bounce, “it’s okay if you want to have a little peek. I won’t tell anyone…” His eyes cease their squinting and the lids peek open. His lip is trembling; my perky nipples are inches from his chest, just begging to be sucked. A bead of sweat pools at the ridge of his brow, and I can’t help but smirk at the rising tent at the crotch of his jeans.

  “Do you want to know what they taste like?” I ask, casually wrapping an arm around his neck to bring myself in closer. I grab a handful of breast and bring the nipple up to my parted lips. My tongue emerges, lapping at the tip and making tiny circles around the areola.

  “Mmmm…” I moan softly, letting my eyelids flutter. My cheeks flush and my legs shift beneath me, feeling the sogginess between my thighs.

  I bring my breast up to the edge of his lips, shut tight in a stubborn grimace.

  “Go on,” I brush the softness of his lips with my nipple, “I want you to…”

  His lips part slightly and his eyelids droop. He’s committed now. There is the heat from his breath, the warm wetness of his mouth around my hard nipple.

  Both arms wrap around his neck and I let out a long, deep moan, mounting myself over his legs. I hold him against my breast, tilting my head back, losing myself in his passionate sucking.

  My breaths are rapid; my body writhes against him. He reaches one arm around my waist, holding me in place, lapping wildly on my tit.

  My fingers brush through the back of his hair; my heart flutters with every flick and suck.

  “Tastes good, doesn’t it?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he mumbles in a sort of preoccupied grunt.

  Then my hands move to the buckle of his jeans, working discreetly while Mr. Johnson moves to the other breast. Lost in a sea of lust, distracted by the sweetness of my supple tits, he doesn’t even notice when I unzip his pants.

  “Mr. Johnson…” I whisper, pulling back the hem of his briefs.

  “Mmm-hmm?”

  “I want to suck your cock.”

  Mr. Johnson’s eyes light up and his sucking ceases in an instant when he feels my hand diving beneath his underwear. My fingers wrap around his shaft, feeling the blood rushing to his dick.

  I give it a few gentle strokes, feeling the girth of it growing in my hand. Mr. Johnson looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

  “You’re awfully big, Mr. Johnson,” I tell him, pulling his head from behind to bury his face between my tits, “I don't know if I’ll be able to fit it all down my naughty little throat…”

  “But, Tammy—“ His words are muffled in my chest. A bit of precum dribbles from the tip of his rock hard dick.

  I get down on the floor and position myself between his open legs.

  “We can’t,” he tries to say, but my fingers curl around the waist of his pants and jeans and I give them a firm tug until they’re down to his knees.

  “Shhh,” I tell him, lowering my head to his crotch, “it’s okay, I want to…”

  And with that, I press the flat of my tongue to the base of his shaft. His legs jolt when he feels the wetness of it, making its way slowly up to the tip.

  Mr. Johnson groans long and deep at the warmth of my breath, parted lips hovering over the head.

  “Tammy—don’t!”

  My tongue wraps around the top of his shaft; wet, pillowy lips seal around the head. My head lowers itself Down… down…

  “Agh!!” Mr. Johnson squints hard and clutches tight around my skull when his stiff dick enters the hot, moist cavern of my mouth. Despite his half-hearted attempt at stopping me, his cock slips into the back of my throat. Deeper, and deeper…

  I have to suppress the urge to gag when his cock reaches the back of my throat. Thick spurts of saliva gush from my lips, trailing down to his ball sac.

  My eyes begin to water as I fight to swallow the whole of his cock. His size is enormous, but I am determined to get it all down.

  Wrapping thumb and forefinger around the base of the shaft for leverage, I force his dick past the back of my tongue and into my esophagus.

  Dark tears of mascara pour form bloodshot eyes and roll down my pale cheeks.

  I gag and slurp along his entire length, drooling spit mixed with precum that drizzles on his trimmed pubes.

  My air passages are completely blocked. I don’t know if I can get him all down on my own.

  “P—push!” I manage through gargled words.

  My throat tightens reflexively. I feel him applying pressure to the back of my head, helping me to deepthroat him. He forces my mouth down the rest of the way, sucking and lapping along every inch of it.

  “Mmm-mmm,” I moan, bobbing my head, stimulating his erect dick down to the very depths of my throat. Somehow I had managed to stuff the entire thing inside.

  My tight lips kiss the top of his balls with every plunge onto his dick, one hand tickling his scrotum.

  Mr. Johnson groans with every lustful slurp and passionate suck, gripping my hair tight enough to hurt.

  His hands around my head move up and down to my rhythm, assisting me on every descent into my wet esophagus.

  Not telling me to stop now, are you Mr. Johnson?

  “Fuck!” He groans loud again, and I can feel his cock twitching deep down in my throat. He’s on the verge of cumming now. But I can’t let him just yet.

  I force my head up against the weight of his hand trying to hold me down. He’s so close…

  Wet sucking noises escape my lips when they release the head of his cock. Mr. Johnson’s face is scrunched—his dick spasms on the razor’s edge of ejaculation.

  “Nuh-uh,” I tease his scrotum some more, keeping him right on the precipice, “you can’t cum yet, Mr. Johnson.” I smirk at the sight of his face turning to sheer disappointment.

  “Not unless you put it inside me first.” I pinch the stiffness of his shaft and give it a few gentle tugs, giggling. The head twitches some more, desperate to achieve climax.

  “Tammy…” Thick precum spills from the tip. “We can’t—we can’t do that. What would your mother think of me?”

  “Mom won’t be home until tomorrow. No one is ever going to find out.” I’m still teasing him with more light stroking. “It can be our little secret.”

  My fingers dive beneath the waist of my cut off jeans and feel the wetness there. My tongue sweeps across my upper lip and my eyes roll back.

  “Mmmm…” I moan, fingering my clit, “I’m SO wet for you, Mr. Johnson…” His pupils appear to dilate in the light of the living room, trying so hard to ignore the inhibitions screaming in his head. But how can he possibly refuse an open invitation to fuck his hot neighbor’s tight little pussy?

  I bring the index finger, now dripping in warm fluids, up to my mouth. Crimson lips wrap down to the first knuckle, dark eyelids fluttering. A deep, passionate moan raises goose bumps down his arms. The taste of sweetness makes my tongue dance against the roof of my mouth.

  “Do you want to know what my pussy tastes like?” I snatch his hands by the wrist and set them around my waist. Slowly, I move in until my hot breath caresses his quivering lips. His eyes remain wide, frozen in deliberation.

  Then we connect in a passionate kiss and I feel the tenseness in his neck relax. His eyes droop at the taste of me, our tongues swirling together.

  Brushing fingers up his nape, the tiny hairs standing on
end, I whisper, “I want you to cum… inside me.” His eyes go wide and I dive in for another kiss.

  But his hands clutch tight at my waists and force me back. My lips peel reluctantly; a string of spit and fluid still clings to his chin.

  “Stop,” he yells, shaking me, “we have to stop.”

  “But—“

  “That’s enough now, Tammy. I—I have to go.”

  Tears are welling in my eyes. His thick, pulsing cock is still on the brink of climax. How could he want to stop now? Precum wets the crotch of his briefs when he puts them on in a hurry.