The Rough Stuff

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The Rough Stuff Page 2

by Briella Bigbum


  “What the fuck?” He’s squeezing my arms. His eyes are brimming with rage. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I had a meeting with an important client this morning!” He’s shaking me, saying, “You’re fucking with my life!”

  “So give me what I want,” I say. His face is blood red. Fire in his eyes. He grabs my ass from behind, spins me around, forces me to bend over the bed with my stomach flat.

  “Is this what you want?” He says. I cry out when an open palm lands square against my ass. The smacking sound of skin against skin reverberates in my small bedroom. “You want to be treated like a filthy whore?” His hand comes down again, twice as hard this time. “A dirty little slut?”

  The next blow lands the hardest.

  “Because that’s what you are.” I moan out in an ecstatic wail. My hair clings to the sweat and heat of my back.

  In truth, this is exactly what I want.

  “Y—yes!”

  SMACK!

  “Yes, what?”

  SMACK!

  “Yes I—I like it!”

  SMACK!

  The glass of my sliding closet door vibrates with the ferocity of his blows.

  Again and again, he pummels my ass until it’s purple and raw. My pussy quivers, dripping in the anticipation of another hard spank.

  But he stays his hand.

  “No. I want to hear you say it,”

  My breaths are heavy, the air beaten out of me. “Say what, Mr. Wilson?”

  Then I feel it. The girth of his cock slipping between the sweat of my tender ass cheeks and the wetness of my eager pussy.

  “Admit it. You’re just a dirty slut who fucks with people’s lives, and likes to get fucked in the ass!” My eyes go wide.

  “In the ass?”

  “Say it!” His palm hits me like rough leather.

  “Ungh!” My whole body jolts like he just put a Taser to my ass. I moan out, squeezing a nearby pillow so hard my fingernails tear into the case.

  “Say it!” Another blow lands with the same force on the other cheek. An imprint of a face is left on the blue cotton sheets where I bury my head and cry. The searing pain on my ass was a new kind of pleasure.

  “Okay… okay! I’m a dirty slut, and I fuck with people’s lives!”

  “And?” The head of his dick circles my wet puckered asshole. My ass cheeks clench; my whole body goes tense. I’m terrified at the thought of what might come next.

  “And… I like to take it up the ass, okay?” My hands grip the sheets tight; I bite down hard on a pillow. Is he really going to…

  My back arches and my toes curl when I feel my Mr. Wilson penetrating my tight asshole. He grabs hold of my waist, holding me in place as I squirm. My ass cheeks clench shut around his dick.

  “No. You’re going to take it,” he says, pulling my head back by the hair, “all the way.”

  The pain is intense—more than I could have imagined. And yet, something compels me to let him in deeper.

  His girth works its way into my ass, lubricated by his precum and my own juices. I have to scream. I can’t hold back.

  Every nerve ending inside burns with a new kind of pain and an odd kind of pleasure. Mr. Wilson is balls deep in my ass now.

  My mind goes numb. My eyes flutter with the tingling pleasure. Am I… enjoying this?

  The pain is so subtle now. My body writhes in the sheets, losing control to the strange electricity invading my senses.

  He thrusts himself into me, balls slamming hard against my clit. The muscles of my anus contract, wringing the length of his stiff dick.

  He huffs and groans, punishing my ass with heavy-handed swipes. Hot beads of sweat pour from his forehead and pool at the small of my back. He’s drilling into me so deep. I might pass out.

  My legs cramp and my body twinges. Something feels different. A new sensation is building deep inside, emanating from my core like liquid fire.

  My breaths quicken. My toes flex and spasm. I spread my legs to assist his entry.

  But then his thrusts slow to a halt. No… it all feels too good. Don’t stop now!

  He yanks hard on my hair again with his cock embedded deep in my ass.

  “You don’t get to cum yet.”

  His cock begins to pull out slowly. My tight walls hug his cock as it emerges, clinging in desperation, not wanting him to escape.

  My whole body shudders when he’s all the way out. dammit! I was so close!

  “You’re going to be an obedient little slut.” His voice is cold and callous. I’ve never seen this side of Mr. Wilson. “Spread your legs.”

  I hesitate for a moment, wondering what he’s planning. With a slow apprehension, my legs begin to part, revealing the wet mess between them.

  “Wider!” A hard spank on the thigh and I’m nearly doing the splits. Mr. Wilson grabs behind the knees and holds them there.

  “It’s about time I give you what you’ve been asking for.” His dick slides along my wet crack, slips between my folds and circles my clit. My pussy quivers, trembling in a kind of uneasy anticipation. The head of his dick traces around my labia.

  “Mr.—Mr. Wilson?”

  He inserts himself past my folds, the head of his dick pressing into my tight entrance. I squint hard in preparation for what is coming. My teeth cover my bottom lip to stifle the moans I know I won’t be able to control.

  And then Mr. Wilson is inside me. His massive size parts my virgin walls, stretching them thin. My hips buck against him; my ass slams hard against his stone wall abdomen.

  “Fuck! You’re so fucking—tight!”

  His hips thrust forward with a resounding groan and my pussy gives way to his thick penetration. Mr. Wilson has me impaled on his cock, holding me against him with vice grips on my ass. I can’t hold it in.

  My deep moans of ecstasy only serve to further invigorate him. His enormous girth might split me in half.

  “Fuck me Mr. Wilson! Fuck me harder!” The words come out on their own.

  Our bodies slick together in a sweaty mess of bodily fluids. My limbs spasm and contort with every plunge into my tight pussy.

  I can’t help screaming out when his cock bottoms out inside me, ramming against my cervix. The pain is overwhelming. And yet a subtle, pleasurable tension is rising in my core.

  My legs flail in the air. Desperate moans escape my lips with every hump and fuck from behind.

  My ass lifts in the air with each deep penetration, grinding on his dick like an expert whore. It all feels so natural, being such a dirty slut.

  My back arches in a rough jolt; my pussy quivers with electric stimulation. My walls contract around Mr. Wilson’s cock as my entire body shudders to the euphoric energy rushing to my extremities.

  The orgasm sends me into a fit of convulsions. Mr. Wilson moans to the tight contractions of my pussy, coaxing him to cum inside me.

  “Agh! Fuck!” His dick is twitching inside. Is he about to cum?

  Then I feel it—his warm load filling my uterus. Mr. Wilson grunts like a wild beast, drilling into me like a jackhammer.

  He holds me against him by the ass while his hot, thick spunk gushes into me. His cock pulses again and again in an unending stream. My insides feel like they’re going to overflow.

  “Yes… Yes!”

  My heart flutters as orgasmic tremors take control. My mind is lost in a tranquil cloud of euphoria. My pussy tightens and relaxes to the rhythm of Mr. Wilson ejaculating inside me until he collapses his full weight on top of me, slipping in the sweat of my back, still cumming. I can feel the rapid breaths of his heavy chest beating against me.

  We moan together, lying in a mess of our fluids. Thick white cum coats every square inch of my walls, the excess of his hot load spilling out and rolling off his balls.

  My tongue licks around grinning lips. The sweet taste of victory.

  I got what I needed from Mr. Wilson. And yet, something inside wants more. More punishment.

  “Mr. Wilson?”

  He grunts in
response, face down between my shoulder blades.

  “PROMISE NOT TO CUM INSIDE ME?”

  “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 to 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.

 

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