Messy Finishes... 18 Story Bundle of You Know What!

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Messy Finishes... 18 Story Bundle of You Know What! Page 8

by Miley Milque


  I keep my lips sealed tightly around his cock while I suck him, coming back up the shaft to ask him one more thing.

  "I've been thinking..." I pause a moment, deciding whether I should follow through. "I want you to fuck me and cum inside me." Mr. Kent's eyes go wide in disbelief. "I want you to put a baby in me, Mr. Kent." I go back down on his cock, hoping for an answer.

  "Your wife will never have to know," I say through gargled words and drool a line of spit down his shaft.

  Mr. Kent tilts his neck back as he moans. I can tell he is enjoying me slobbering along his thick cock. I force him way back in my throat until I have to gag and come up for air.

  Wiping a trail of saliva from my chin, I tell him, "This can be out little secret." Mr. Kent lets out a heavy sigh and gives a subtle shrug with his shoulders. He grips a hand firmly at the back of my head and a grin stretches wide across my face. With a forceful jerk from behind I am back down on his cock.

  He pushes me deep, further than I could go on my own. I start to gag again but his hand holds me down. I lap my tongue against his rock hard shaft and squint my eyes to help get it all in.

  Another gag and I'm down all the way, drooling at his balls. Mr. Kent continues to hold me until my nose is nuzzled into his pubic hair. I can't believe I'd managed to deep throat the entire thing.

  Becoming choked of air, I hit against his thigh with an open palm, trying to signal him to let me up. But still he continues to hold me down as I gag wildly and swivel my head around his whole cock.

  Tears are rolling down my cheeks and mixing with thick globs of dark mascara. Another gush of saliva coats Mr. Kent's balls as I push myself up against his force with both hands on his thighs.

  Finally, he releases me and I gasp for air as his entire cock slides out from the suction of my lips.

  "Well then, let's take a look at that little virgin pussy shall we?" I yelp as he lifts me by the shoulders and twists me around so my ass is up in the air close to his face.

  I feel the tip of Mr. Kent's nose graze between my folds as he sniffs. The scent of my wet teenage cunt must be making him wild.

  He inserts two finger tips at the entrance of my wet hole. A thin string of my juices connects us as he pulls them back for a taste.

  "Mmm...” he moans, "Tastes sweet." After a momentary pause, I feel a stinging pain on one cheek and squeal. The sound of his hard slap on my ass echoes in the the living room. Mr. Kent pinches the cheek skin and jostles it around before coming down hard with his palm for another slap.

  "Ungh!” I squeal louder this time.

  "So this is what you want?" Mr. Kent hits the other cheek with a back hand swing. The pain of his blow shoots through my spine and my back arches as I scream.

  "You want me to fuck you like a little whore and get you pregnant?" Another hand lands hard on both sides of my tender cheeks. My hips writhe in pleasure as I let out a deep moan. The skin that was pale white is now raw and crimson.

  The pain of it all has got me so wet that some juices are running down between the gap of my thighs.

  "Well?” Again and again, Mr. Kent spanks my naughty virgin ass.

  “Yes...” I manage a soft whimper.

  "What was that?" He grabs me by the hair and yanks my head back, getting his ear close my mouth. "I can't hear you." He whispers.

  "Yes!" I scream. "I want it!"

  "You want what?" He whispers again.

  "I want you to cum in my tight pussy... please!"

  I hear the thud of Mr. Kent's belt buckle hitting the floor. He grips me on both sides of the waist and pulls me against his member. The shaft slips between my cheeks and slides smoothly down the lubricated crack.

  He rubs the head around on my clit and the sensation causes my knees to buckle. My torso goes limp at the waist but Mr. Kent keeps my ass held up to his crotch.

  The tip of him presses into my entrance just slightly, then travels back down to stimulate my clit some more. A drip of thick precum dribbles out from him and oozes down to my thighs. The sweat sheen of my bare back glistens in the light of the static white television screen.

  And then, almost without warning, Mr. Kent enters me. My tight vaginal walls squeeze the girth of him as he pushes in deeper. The sensation is enough to blur my vision. I whimper, biting my bottom lip while trying to contain the scream that was building in my throat.

  "Oh, god!” I yell. He pushes deeper and deeper, and I'm surprised at how am I able to take him whole inside me. Mr. Kent's cock bottoms out and my hips jolt. It hurt a little bit, but the pain is masked by the overwhelming pleasure of his cock filling every inch of me.

  He pushes against my ass to slide back out until the tip is just barely inside me. Then his pelvis thrusts forward quick and rough, and I gasp. Mr. Kent pounds my pussy like this again and again, going balls deep with every thrust. My hips buck involuntarily each time he slams against my cervix.

  The familiar tingling that is building in my core is nothing like when I pleasure myself with a dildo. This feeling is much more intense, and it’s rising like a fire in the very depths of me.

  My ass twitches as a drop of sweat from Mr. Kent's forehead falls to the small of my back while he grunts like an animal, drilling me from behind.

  "Do it!" I yell, clenching my walls tight to coax his head into squirting. "Cum inside me!" With another loud grunt and a final thrust, he impales me with the whole of his cock. The inside of me suddenly feels dripping wet, and my entire body spasms as I am overcome by waves of euphoria.

  Mr. Kent struggles to hold himself up by my ass as he shakes violently against me. We moan together, long and hard. The head of his cock pulsates again and again, spraying his entire load deep inside of me.

  There is enough of it that I can feel his cum dribbling out of me, oozing between my thighs and down his ball sac.

  My mind goes blank, and we collapse onto the couch together. His cock shoots the last of his seed into me and my pussy quivers with delight. I glide along his shaft some more, savoring the sensation of my first real orgasm as his cock continues to throb and cum inside of me. Mr. Kent has made me a mother.

  As we lie there, I match my breathing with his. I wonder if Mr. Kent will be there to help me raise my own little Charlie.

  "Now get up," he snaps, "And get your clothes back on for god's sake." There is a tone of regret in his voice.

  "D--Do you think that we'll be together now?" I ask timidly.

  "Look, I just need you out of my house. Right now."

  I scramble to get my clothes back on while he's rifling through the pocket of his jeans.

  "Here, I still want to pay you for your time." Mr. Kent hands me triple what I normally get for one night of watching Charlie.

  "But that's too--"

  "Take it, and get out!" He yells.

  Sobbing and confused, I take the money. Then I'm out the door without even taking the time to get my bra on underneath my tank top. I don't know why he was acting this way, but it didn't matter now. Mr.

  Kent had paid me and kicked me out like a little whore, but I got what I needed from him. More of his thick spunk drips out of my soggy pussy and soaks the inside of my panties.

  Mrs. Kent's car pulls into the driveway as I'm walking away from the house, but she doesn't see me. I can't help but giggle at the sight of her. She doesn't have a clue that her husband just impregnated the babysitter.

  STRETCHED BY THE ROCKSTAR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Matilda's head pounded in time to the heavy metal music blaring out of the speakers on either side of the stage. When her best friend Madi had dragged her to this Pistons concert she should have insisted on stopping to get ear plugs.

  Heavy metal had never been her thing but Madi was so excited to have the tickets and needed someone to go with her. Matilda watched the singer on stage yell lyrics into the microphone and wondered what any of the band’s fans saw in the group.

  It was all just noise to her.

  The lead singer, Clay, did
have that dreamy, cocky rock star look with blue eyes that were cold as ice instead of warm and inviting. The husky voice did sound nice when he wasn't screaming lyrics which didn't happen often.

  Give her a nice ballad or even a dance tune she could move to any day. This crap just made her ears hurt. She tentatively touched a hand to her ear to make sure it wasn’t bleeding. She should have told Madi she was busy.

  Matilda watched Clay parade around the stage looking crazy, macho and carefree at the same time. Girls in front of the stage actually swooned every time he came close to them.

  A bright pink bra went flying through the air and landed on the stage at Clay's feet. He smiled, picked it up and rubbed the lacy material against his face. Matilda wrinkled her nose when he sniffed the bra and smiled wide.

  He tossed it behind him with the rest of the garments women, and few men, had thrown up on stage since the concert started.

  Matilda shook her head at the ridiculousness of the fan girls. Throwing themselves at a guy who wouldn’t give them the time of day. A guy who probably couldn’t even see them with all the lights shining down on stage.

  He probably bedded as many women as he could in a night and left town never to see them again. Why would they want a guy like Clay? Yet all them she would bet would fuck him in a hot second if he beckoned.

  She rolled her eyes and checked her watch. When was the concert going to end? With luck she could salvage the night with a nice cup of hot chocolate and a good movie. Maybe watch a favorite television show.

  She had enough of them recorded on her DVR. Party animal had never been used to describe her and she was okay with that. It meant she didn’t get subjected to this kind of noise very often.

  Clay strutted along the stage again, the girls surrounding Matilda screaming with longing. They reached out their hands, shook their heads as if not believing they were actually there and reached out again.

  He grinned down at them, brushing his hand through the air just a fraction away from their reaching fingers. More of them swooned. Matilda stood on her tiptoes when it looked like one of them actually went down in a faint.

  Madi turned to her, a big grin on her face. "Isn't this great!" she yelled.

  Matilda nodded. It wasn't her friend's fault her taste in music sucked. Though the ticket had been free it still wasn't worth it. This was two hours of her life she'd never get back. Madi owed her big time.

  How would she make her friend pay her back? She could drag Madi to a museum. Her friend hated all that history. A smile spread across Matilda’s face at the thought of a museum tour guide droning on about the exhibits and Madi trying to stay awake.

  Clay strutted back to the other side of the stage belting out more incomprehensible lyrics. Yet the crowd around Matilda mouthed along with him. At least some of them knew what the rock star was yelling through the microphone.

  Matilda glanced over at her friend who was moving her mouth in time to the noise filtering out of the speakers. When had their tastes in music so drastically changed?

  Madi grabbed her arm and squeezed with excitement. "Thanks so much for coming with me! I couldn't have come alone. You're the best."

  Matilda nodded. There was no point in trying to speak. She'd have to yell and she needed to save her voice for tomorrow. Her work did expect her to actually talk to customers. She would continue to plot her revenge as the music ruined her ears.

  Clay paused in the middle of the stage and closed his eyes as he belted out another intelligible lyric. Matilda glanced at her watch again. They'd only been there for an hour. It felt like days.

  Her friend said the concerts usually lasted two hours but the after party, the place where all the action happened, could go on for a lot longer. But you had to be invited. Matilda silently hoped they would not be singled out to join the band backstage.

  "We're leaving as soon as it's over, right?" she yelled in Madi's ear.

  Madi frowned. "I hope not. There's a chance we'll go backstage."

  "But if not we're going right now?"

  "Sure!"

  Madi turned her attention back to the stage and raised her arm, waving it in time to the music. If that's what you could call it. Despite herself Matilda tapped her toe to the beat, swayed a little to the music.

  Swung her hips back and forth in time to the tune that suddenly had a pattern her body recognized. She wanted to dance but with such an erratic beat it was impossible. Even the fans around her just punched the air above them in time to the hard bass notes.

  Matilda looked at the band members. All of them seemed engrossed in what they were doing. If you focused on the hand movements and not the sounds screeching out of the instruments you could tell that they could actually play.

  Every once in a while Clay sang a line from the song that actually sounded good. Like it was part of a melody, with words you could understand. Those parts of the song pulled her in but then he screeched again and ruined it.

  She looked up at him. His eyes were open again and he was staring directly at her. She looked around to see if there was someone else, someone thinner, prettier, more interesting behind her that he would be focused on. There was just her.

  He smiled at her, full lips pulled back in genuine pleasure at looking at her. A twinkle in his eyes turned the cold blue a little warmer. Without warning a rush of awareness crashed through her soaking her panties.

  Her pussy ached, throbbed in time to the bass now. What the fuck was wrong with her? She did not want Clay. Not only was he so not her type but he was a rock star. He bedded models. Hot girls. Not curvy chicks who didn't have anything better to do on a Friday night but be dragged to a concert she didn't even want to be at.

  The noise of the concert hall suddenly fell away. There was no one else in the room but her and Clay. He gazed into her eyes, holding her attention, as he sang an actual song. The music slowed.

  She could make out the words. It was a slow ballad full of deep emotion and longing. His face contorted in pain as he sang of lost love and regret. She swayed back and forth, her hips making circles in the air in time to the slow beat.

  A shiver of awareness rushed through her body leaving her breathless. His gaze bored into her and she felt a blush stain her cheeks. He couldn't possibly see her face turn red with all the lights bombarding down at him but he smiled knowingly.

  She was imagining it. She had to be. There was no way he could see into the crowd. And no way he was looking at her with such intense emotion. His husky voice washed over her making her want to hear him sing all night.

  All the women around her turned to look at her and she knew Clay was singing directly to her. The women looked at the stage then back at her. Their looks of shock and confusion making her even happier.

  For some reason Clay was singing directly to her. He'd stopped moving around on stage. He gripped the microphone tightly in large hands, his mouth a whisper away from it, and he sang to her.

  She wondered what it would feel like to have those hands traveling down her body. Exploring.

  She shook her head. That was crazy. The magic of being singled out by a rock star was going to her head. Maybe he did that at every concert. Picked one pathetic girl in the crowd and made her feel special.

  Even if that was the case he rose a few notches in her good books. To go so far as to make anyone feel special he couldn't be all bad.

  She racked her brain trying to remember if she'd read any gossip stories about him in the tabloids. Not that she read the tabloids but they bombarded you with outrageous stories at the check out at the grocery store.

  Nothing came to mind. She hadn't heard any of their songs on the radio since she didn't listen the a heavy metal station. Maybe after the concert she would ask Madi if she could listen to some of the band's albums.

  Clay continued serenading her oblivious to the jealous women surrounding her. Every glare they gave her, every frown made her happier than she'd been in a long time.

  Clay moved his hips in time to th
e music and then she realized he was moving them in time to her hips. It was like they were dancing but they were fifty feet apart.

  Another jolt of sensation settled in her pussy. She was so wet her panties were soaked. Her clit pulsed. She didn't care about his motives.

  All she cared about were the words, the soulful eyes gazing at her. The hands she wished were caressing her body.

  The song ended and he looked away. It was as if the moment never happened. The women around her erupted into applause. Another bra went flying through the air, this one black. He picked it up and tossed it with the rest. He didn't rub it along his face or sniff it this time.

 

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