She Likes It Rough

by Fanee Sitter

  "Well then... show me you can."

  I have to bite my bottom lip hard to keep from screaming as the girth of him spreads me apart. Even though I was dripping wet, it still hurt.

  When the full head of his cock is in me, I brace myself to take in the rest by holding on to his thighs underneath me.

  The tight walls of my pussy squeeze his dick as I continue to lower myself slowly, carefully down his shaft.

  Then without warning Mr. Pearce impales me with his cock, tearing my hymen in one fierce thrust. My wetness coats his shaft as I slide down, until my round ass connects with the bulkiness of his ripped abdomen and I scream out.

  "Ungh!" The sharp pain that shot through me turned quickly to immense pleasure. I could feel every inch of Mr. Pearce's pulsating cock deep within me.

  I have to grip the steering wheel with both hands and squint hard just to keep from screaming again as he holds me in place by the waist and drills me wildly.

  I moan uncontrollably while he pushes against my cervix and causes my hips to buck against him.

  "Please Mr. Pearce..." My tits are compressed against the steering wheel while I'm riding on the whole of his monstrous cock. "Please... I need you to cum inside me."

  I clench my pussy as tight as I can, trying desperately to coax his cock into squirting its seed into me.

  The pace of his wild thrusting increases, and I continue bucking my hips with each thrust, squeezing intensely at the base of his shaft.

  Then I lift myself up by pushing against his thighs and slam down hard onto his cock. Again and again, I glide my wet pussy along the entire length of him, clenching tightest at the head, then coming back down to his ball sac.

  I am determined to milk the cum out if I have to.

  A burning heat is rising deep within my core as his cock fills me whole. My lower body begins to spasm as the orgasm spreads across my body. My mind is flooded with a sea of ecstasy, my hips gyrate and my legs shudder.

  Waves of pleasure flow out from my core to every extremity. I moan and cry out,

  "Yes! I want your cum!" I lick lustfully around my lips and suck my index finger, as if I could taste the sweetness of Mr. Pearce's cum dripping from my mouth. And then he shot it into me.

  "Oh, god!" He yells as his thick, warm load fills me. The head of his cock pulsates rhythmically, shooting more of his hot spunk deep in my pussy each time. I suddenly feel even more wet inside as his body jolts and his pelvis thrusts deep enough to lift me up in the seat.

  I clench and relax the walls of my pussy in sync with the gyrations of his pelvis, milking every lost drop of his cum into me. Finally, he falls backward against the seat cushion and sighs.

  My torso collapses and my breasts fall against the horn of the steering wheel. But I am too exhausted to move. We both remain motionless as the last bit of spunk dribbles from his cock.

  At last, it was done. He had his way with me and treated me like a little whore, but Mr. Pearce had given me exactly what I wanted. He had taken my virginity, and now I would be a mother.

  The rain had finally come to a halt, but the windshield wipers were still going. Only, I couldn't hear them squeaking over the sound of the blasting horn.

  But I didn't care. I could sit here like this on Mr. Pearce's cock until morning--or at least until a cop spotted us. Instead, I just wonder about what Christa would think if she found out her dad just impregnated me in his car.

  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 cookies 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.

  Mr. Michaels looks so dorky in that Santa outfit. It's so obviously him too with that fake beard drooping beneath his chin, swaying when he turns his head. No kid could be that dumb. I think Billy just plays along so his Dad doesn't feel bad. He's a good kid.

  No one could say Mr. Michaels doesn't try, though. He went down the goddamned chimney for Christ's sake! That's some serious commitment. I don't think that thing has been swept in a decade. He has to buy a new Santa suit each year because all that black shit is impossible to get out. That can't be good for his lungs, either.

  Mr. Michaels doubles over in a fit of coughing when he emerges from the small black space in the wall. A black puff of smoke rises and dissipates into the warm living room air while he's hammering his sternum with a fist.

  "Ho-h-" Mr. Michaels chokes, bending over and holding his knees. When his coughing comes to a lull, he lifts his head to say, "Ahem. Ho-ho-ho! Merry Christmas!"

  "Hey Da---I mean---it's Santa!" The feigned enthusiasm in his tone would be obvious to anyone else but Mr. Michaels.

  "Why hello there, little Billy!" I have to admit, Mr. Michaels is adorable. "Tell me, have you been a good boy this year?"

  "Shouldn't you know already?" Now little Billy is being a little smart ass. Mr. Michaels shoots me a quick glance, coughs out more smoke, then composes himself.

  "Ho-ho-ho! Of course, of course! You've been really good this year. Santa is proud of you!" He leans to give Billy a gentle pat on the head. "Now, where did I put it..." Billy raises an eyebrow, looking like he is struggling on the inside to stop himself from bursting with laughter.

  "Ah---here it is!" Billy has already torn into the wrapping of the small rectangular box before Santa has even let go of it.

  "Oh my god! Super Dragon Fighter VI!" Billy jumps up and down, hugging the box against his chest.

  "What do you say to Santa?" I ask Billy.

  "Thanks D--thank you, Santa!" In his eagerness, Billy runs off to his room without even saying goodbye.

  I give Mr. Michaels a little wink.

  "You're a total mess, y'know." I wipe away some of the dark charcoal on his cheek with my own spit. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." I grab Mr. Michaels by the hand and lead him to the master bedroom.

  ******


  I sit Mr. Michaels down on the bed and work at getting his black leather boots off.

  "That was really sweet what you did for Billy," I say. Then I snicker when I get his boot off to reveal blue and green Christmas socks with reindeer faces on the toes. "You really did go all out, didn't you?" We laugh together and Mr. Michaels leans back onto the bed, covering his face to hide his embarrassment.

  "Well I thought it was adorable. There aren't many fathers who would go to so much trouble to make their kid happy." When I get the second boot off, I start eyeing his thick red coat with the furry white cuffs. I wonder if he'll let me take it off him.