Amanda's Condition

by Lana Cross

  “Fuck,” I whimpered.

  With his thumbs, he gently stretched open my outer lips, then his tongue started exploring the inner folds of my pussy, tracing one side, from the bottom crevice near my ass and running it through to the top, just under my clit, before continuing down the other ridge and back down to the deep base of my cunt.

  “Fuck!” I said, more loudly this time. My breathing had been reduced to short heaves. I wanted to shove his face deep into me. I closed my eyes tightly, and the sensation of his experienced tongue moving around inside my hot cunt got amplified. I was close. So close.

  He let go of my pussy lips and I felt him peel back the hood of my already swollen and very sensitive clit. Then the full volume of his tongue lapped my clit in one long, strong lick.

  “Oh my god!” I screamed as the cluster of sensitive nerve endings compressed in that one tiny, pink, swollen area reacted to the stimulus from his moist tongue and sent thousands of micro explosions of pleasure across every single point of my body. My stomach knotted. Milk poured out freely from my hardened, swollen nipples and the pores around it. I struggled hard not to come, but when I felt two fingers slide deep into my cunt and rub against the hard, sensitive nub it found there, I exploded violently.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screamed. The strong orgasm took hold of me and racked my body as wave after wave hit me. I convulsed and jerked and twisted, arching my pelvis high above the desk. My world spun and tumbled and my knuckles turned white from gripping the edge of the desk.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” I gasped, flopping around on his desk like someone being electrocuted. I thought he would let up like he did earlier, but this time he did not stop. He continued fingering me and sucking my clit while one muscled arm held a bare leg high above him. The pleasure was excruciating, almost unbearable. I came again and again, soaking up his fingers and his face, my juices flowing freely from my cunt down to the crack of my ass.

  Mr. Blackwood stood up and yanked me forward until my my ass hung over the desk. He guided his dick in, his engorged head separating my pussy lips.

  “Oh god, oh my god,” I moaned as my wet cunt wrapped itself tightly around his crown.

  “Jesus,” Mr. Blackwood said, breathing heavily. “You’re so fucking tight.” He continued pushing his way through, closing his eyes as he fought to keep control. His cocked kept penetrating me, filling me like I’ve never been filled before, until I felt his balls against my ass. Holy fuck, how could he have possibly fit himself in me?

  I couldn’t breathe. The wild thumping of my heart rang in my ears and my world swam in and out of focus. My insides turned to jelly. My cunt twitched as he kept me pegged to him. Then he eased out of me slowly. When only his head remained my pussy, he pushed in again, faster this time. I screamed and shook my head from side to side. So good. So fucking good.

  Mr. Blackwood regained control of himself and started fucking me in a practiced, fluid rhythm, his powerful hips swaying back and forth, his tight abs and muscled body working in beautiful harmony, my stomach tightening with each thrust. I grabbed both my tits and squeezed just below the nipples. Thin jets of milk sprayed up and landed on my belly.

  “That’s so fucking hot,” Mr. Blackwood said, taking in the view of my naked body spread out on his desk, pools of milk scattered everywhere. His paced increased, and he slammed into me with renewed vigor, his balls slapping against me. My pussy tingled with delight. I opened my legs as wide as I could so I could have all of him in me. He helped by spreading my cunt lips with his fingers as he drove himself in me all the way. When he started rubbing his thumb against my clit, I lost all control and orgasmed again. A deep shudder passed through my body, and I cried out something unintelligible as new waves of pleasure hit me with the force of a level five hurricane. Hot milk now squirted freely from both breasts without me having to do anything.

  Mr. Blackwood’s eyes went wide. He thrust himself deep into me until only his balls separated us, grabbed my back, and pulled me to him. His mouth found a nipple and he sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed while he made a low growl of pleasure. My other nipple continued squirting thin jets of milk everywhere. It was all too much for him.

  “I’m gonna come,” he croaked.

  I wanted him in me, but I was not prepared. “You have to pull out,” I gasped.

  He nodded. He made several quick thrusts with his muscled, powerful hips, slamming into me with urgency. I felt him grow even bigger, if that was even possible, then he pulled out at the last second and shot hot jizz across my stomach, his balls resting on my mound. Thick, white semen kept squirting out, strings of it mixing with the milk atop my belly. He uttered a low moan as he shuddered and convulsed with the power of his orgasm.

  Finally his convulsions stopped. He was still hard, the head dripping with cum. “Come here,” I said.

  He moved around the desk, his sculpted body moist with sweat and rippling in the daylight. He stopped next to my face, and I took him in my mouth, cleaned the cum with my tongue, then sucked his dick greedily. He moaned in approval.

  “Damn, girl,” he said, looking at me with obvious admiration. “You’re something else.”

  “Really?” I said after I’d cleaned him off. I sat up. My body glistened with sweat, cum, and milk. I was still leaking. I just realized I made a mess of his desk. I saw beads of milk everywhere.

  “I have never come as hard and as long as I did just now,” he said in all seriousness.

  “Ditto,” I said, smiling at him. “So I did okay?”

  “You did very well today, Miss Amanda, especially for your first time.”

  “I didn’t realize sex could be so… yummy.”

  He smiled mysteriously. “It will only get better.”

  I looked around. “You don’t happen to have a restroom here, do you?”

  “In there,” he said, nodding at one of two doors on the far wall.

  I got up, realizing only then how wobbly my legs were.

  “You okay?” Mr. Blackwood said, wrapping his arm around me.

  I nodded. “I’m fine. Jelly legs, that’s all.”

  I walked slowly across the room, feeling Mr. Blackwood’s eyes as he feasted on my naked body. This time I didn’t mind. I was no longer ashamed of my body - not one bit.

  “Which one?” I said, looking at the two oak doors.

  “Guess,” came his reply.

  I shook my head, opened the door to my right, and stepped in.

  It wasn’t the bathroom.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I stood at the entrance in complete shock. It took a few moments before my mind registered what I was seeing. I walked in and stood in the center of the room, mesmerized. Mr. Blackwood came up behind me, wrapped his strong arms around my waist, and started fondling my breast. I felt his soft cock against the small of my back.

  “What do you think?” he said.

  “Holy fuck.”

  I had unwittingly stepped into a BDSM dungeon. The walls were filled will all kinds of contraptions - leather whips, clamps, braces, cuffs, and other implements that I could only guess as to their purpose. All were very high-end looking. On one side a swing dangled from the ceiling (a swing?). On the other side was a large cross resembling a giant “X,” the smooth surface made out of a deep red mahogany wood. The cross had leather bindings on each of the four edges.

  “I have a proposal for you, Miss Amanda,” he whispered in my ear as he continued fondling my breast.

  “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?”

  “I’d like to give you $20,000 in exchange for one night with you, in this room.”

  I thought about it, then shook my head. “How about $50,000?” I countered.

  I got my answer when I felt him grow hard behind me.

  This was going to be fun.

  CHAPTER SIX

  About the Author

  Lana Cross is a new author who lives in Orange County, California. She has had a love affair with reading for as long as she could remember.
A perfect evening for her would be to curl up with her Kindle in one hand and a glass of wine in another while listening to some background music or the distant crash of waves from the Pacific Ocean.

  Lana strives to write what she calls “high-quality smut” - well-written erotic stories that transport readers into the minds of compelling characters and share in their wild, carnal adventures.

  Please swing by Lana’s Author Page at:

  http://www.amazon.com/author/lanacross

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  Copyright © 2014 Lana Cross

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.