by Miley Milque
He sucked in a breath and jerked up one more time hard and fast. His face contorted, grimaced. He grunted. His cock jerked inside her spilling his seed into her canal. Warm semen splashed against her pussy walls.
She rotated her hips and moved up and down his cock to milk him for every ounce of semen he had.
When his cock stopped jerking its release she raised her leg over him and stood. His cock pulled out of her, semen dripping down her legs.
He left the sofa to get a towel which he draped over the couch. She sat down and snuggled into him. She did a mental calculation and smiled when she realized she could be pregnant now. Probably was pregnant. The timing would be prefect.
“So you’ll come on the road with us,” he said. Not a question but a statement.
She peered at him through heavy lashes. What would it be like living on the road with a womanizing bad boy? Would he continue to sleep with groupies with her there at every stop of the tour?
She pictured life on the road and couldn’t wait to begin the new adventure of being the Pistons’ newest roadie. She’d think of something to tell Madi later. Now, she settled into the warmth of Clay’s arms. He tightened his embrace around her and she smiled wondering what tomorrow with him would bring.
Punishing Melissa
Right away, I knew it was Mr. Wilson when I noticed my panties were missing. After all, he’s the only guy who has ever seen my bedroom.
It’s not like I’m a prude or anything like that. In fact, I fantasize about sex all the time. I just have high standards is all. A perfectionist to a fault.
And Mr. Wilson really is perfect. The only man I want to take my virginity.
He’s maybe in his forties, but Mr. Wilson is super hot. The first time I saw him he was outside washing his car—shirtless. The wet sheen of his taut skin was glowing in the afternoon sun. We had just moved in next door, pulling up to our new driveway, and I lost myself watching his toned body sweep across a classic BMW.
His rippling muscles caught the light like a god. Seeing him like that, I can’t remember the last time I was so wet between the legs. I had to change my panties by the time he was done.
Nobody else is good enough for me. Sure, I get hit on all the time by douchebags between classes at college. Being a freshman means all the jocks think they are entitled to me.
Most of them have dicks so small you’d need a magnifying glass just to find it, much less fuck it.
And the truth is I’m as cum hungry as the next chick. But I need a real man’s cock. A cock so big I’d have trouble stuffing it down my naughty little throat.
I want to deepthroat and gag and slurp down a real man’s cum. Roll the load around with my tongue and taste it. Let some thick spunk dribble from my lips and off my chin. Then I want to look into Mr. Wilson’s eyes while he watches me swallow it down in one giant gulp. I won’t settle for anything less.
I don’t even mind that Mr. Wilson took my panties. He only confirmed the suspicion I’ve had for a long time now. He must fantasize about me just as often as I do about him.
It was just a few days ago when I let Mr. Wilson into my house for the first time. I made up some excuse about needing help to put my new dresser together. The cheap kind you can order online, but comes unassembled in a thousand pieces and a hundred pages of instructions.
So I figured I could kill two birds with one stone. Get fucked like a rag doll by the man of my dreams, and even get my dresser put together for free.
But really, it’s not that I couldn’t figure it out myself. I just needed a reason to get Mr. Wilson in my bedroom long enough for me to seduce him.
The plan was pretty simple—or so I thought.
“Did you know I’m still a virgin?” I said. I thought it was a good lead. He was tinkering with an Allen wrench, trying to fit two sides together when I said it. His whole body froze—the words seemed to echo in his head.
“It’s true,” I told him, running an index finger over my smirk, “you don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that, I—don’t know what to—“
“What if I let you take it from me?” His hand started to tremble and he dropped the wrench. “What if I let you fuck me right here in my bedroom before my mom gets home?”
“Melissa?” He was standing up by then, looking around, looking toward my closet like he was expecting someone with a camera to come out and tell him this was a practical joke.
I went over to him while he was stuck in that daze and rest a hand on his shoulder. I could see his six-pack bulging through the thin white shirt he had on.
The hand swept across the nape of his neck and my pink manicured nails ran through the back of his dark brown hair.
Then I brought his head in and our lips connected. I pushed my tongue past his teeth and watched his eyes go wide.
My tongue circled and lapped playfully in his mouth. My eyelids drooped and I held him there with our lips locked. I remember the electricity of the moment raising the tiny hairs of my neck. I wanted the kiss to last forever.
But then he grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me back. A string of saliva still connected us as my head was forced away from him.
“No—you’re way too young,” he said, realizing it wasn’t a joke.
“Too young? I’m nineteen! And I’m old enough to make my own decisions.” I brushed his hands away and took a bold step closer. I dove four fingers beneath the waist of his jeans and pulled him in hard enough that our bodies collided.
Holding him there, my face brushing the scruff of his cheek, I whispered, “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”
My hand was down his briefs by then. I cupped his balls and gave them a gentle squeeze. I flashed a suggestive smile and said, “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”
My tongue traced the edge of my crimson lips and I let out a soft moan. I held his growing dick in my hand, stroking it and feeling around his enormous size. I knew he had to be big, but holy shit.
Then I tugged down hard on his pants and briefs as I lowered myself into a squat. I looked up at him through pleading eyes, “Mind if I suck your cock?”
He didn’t answer, but he also wasn’t objecting when I peeled back his underwear.
His massive cock sprang out in front of me, and my tongue started dancing between my teeth. I was drooling with anticipation, eager for a taste.
Closer and closer, I gazed up at him with piercing eyes, mouth opening wide…
His eyes sort of glazed over then closed in resignation. Maybe it’s not so naughty if he doesn’t look, he must have been thinking.
Then he let out a deep moan when he felt the flat of my wet tongue lapping at the base of his shaft.
I teased my way up his stiff dick, licking and wrapping the shaft, coating it in a thick sheen of saliva.
He rested a palm on the top of my auburn hair when my tongue flicked the tip. His eyes were open again. I smiled at him, wet my lips and kissed the head.
“Mmm…” I filled the room with sensual moaning, savoring the taste of him. Warm saliva drooled from my lips and trickled down to his balls. My lips parted over his dick. His grip on my scalp tightened when he felt the warmth of my breath envelop his dick. My head lowered on its own, and then…
“Ungh!” Mr. Wilson’s groans echoed against the thin white walls of my bedroom. His dick was deep in the hot cavern of my mouth. His legs jolted when the head connected with the very back of my throat.
My lips closed around the shaft. I slurped and sucked on his cock like a vacuum, forcing him down, past my tongue and into my esophagus.
I kept him lodged inside there, drooling and gargling along his entire length. My head bobbed and swiveled, sucking him off with a passion.
“Damn!” His deep moans of pleasure motivated me even more, made me want to push past the reflex to gag and deepthroat his whole cock.
I grabbed his bare ass with both hands and pulled him toward me, sliding his dick deeper into my esophagus. I retched—hot spurts of saliva poured fr
om my mouth.
But I was determined to push through it—get past the pain. This was going to be the best blowjob of his life.
Tears of black mascara welled in my bloodshot eyes, rolling down pale cheeks. The enormity of Mr. Wilson’s cock cut off my airways.
I couldn’t breathe. The muscles of my throat clenched around the massive cock lodged in my throat, trying desperately to force it out while I persisted in keeping it all down.
I caught Mr. Wilson wincing, lurching at the tightness around his hard dick. “Agh!” My fingers gripped his ass cheeks like raptor claws. Long pink nails digging deep enough to draw blood.
Somehow I managed to hold it in. I was so far down on his cock my lips were nestled in his trimmed pubes.
Eyes shut, I fought hard to keep his dick down my throat, using every ounce of willpower to fight the urge to gag. My throat swallowed reflexively, slurping down a mess of precum and my own saliva.
His legs began to quake. He was pulling on my hair, right on the edge of climax. The massive load in his balls was building pressure, ready to erupt at any moment.
Then I pushed off against his thighs and his dick began to emerge from my mouth, pulsing and twitching, right on the verge.
I kept pushing until I was all the way off it and gasped for air.
“I can’t,” I said between heavy breaths, “I can’t let you cum yet.” His dick drizzled with bubbly spit—Mr. Wilson was left in a state of purgatory, between utter bliss and blue balls.
He was perplexed. Dumbfounded. Why the fuck did I stop? He was so fucking close.
“Not unless you cum inside my pussy.”
The words rang in his ears.
If I’m going not lose my virginity, it had better be the right way. No way I’m going to just let him get his rocks off and leave my hanging. I need my fill, too.
“But—what if…” His eyes told me of his internal predicament. The potential consequences of such a thing cycled through his mind. He was so desperate to get off, he must have considered it a thousand times in that moment.
I gave his cock another playful lick and giggled. “It’s okay Mr. Wilson, really. I want you to…”
I teased the head some more and watched him squirm in place. Thick droplets of precum dribbled to the carpet. His cock twitched and pulsed—he was on the precipice. But I won’t let him cum. Not yet.
“We—we can’t do that,” he said. The words came out forced, like he was under some kind of duress or torture.
My smile turned to a pout. I won’t lie—I was getting pretty irritated by then. Was this guy actually trying to turn me down?
“What’s the matter? You don’t want me?”
“Melissa… it’s not that.” Real tears were pouring out now. I was a total hot mess. “You’re a sweet girl. It’s just—it’s too risky.”
Seriously? It he really that worried about getting me knocked up?
“Look, I have to go.” He reached for the pants around his ankles. I grasped at him as he made for the door.
“Please, no! You can’t leave now!”
I clung to him, pleading for him to stay. His dick was so hard then he couldn’t even buckle his jeans. But he just kept walking. Then he was out the door and I was left sobbing on my carpet. Alone again and utterly humiliated.
The nerve of that asshole to deny me after what I did for him. Doesn’t he realize I’m the best pussy he’ll ever get?
Did he really think I would let him off so easy?
******
It’s dark out when I break into Mr. Wilson’s house looking for something to steal.
It’s only fair that I should get to take something that belongs to him. After all, he took my panties without asking.
I tug on my bottom lip, contemplating in the darkness of his kitchen, cold linoleum on my bare feet. I was even nice enough to take off my shoes before coming inside—after I broke a window to get in.
Hmmm, what to take, what to take…
Then I see it. It’s almost like they're calling out to me, glimmering white in the black and grey. The keys to his BMW are just sitting there in a tiny wooden bowl on the counter. It’s almost too easy.
It’s a certain satisfaction holding them in my hand, feeling the little crevices of the cool metal between my fingers. Like I’m in control.
It’s exhilarating.
Maybe this is what Mr. Wilson felt when he took my favorite pair of underwear.
Oh, shit! I think he heard me. He’s coming.
My heart jumps, startled by Mr. Wilson’s tabby cat brushing my leg. Phew. It’s obvious Freckles is fed way too much. Mr. Wilson has no idea how to take care of a cat. That’s going to change though, once we’re together.
A devilish smile spreads across my face. I probably ought to be feeling some sort of guilt taking his car. Some remorse, or something.
But instead all I can think about is what it’s going to be like to finally have Mr. Wilson’s hard cock up inside me.
******
It’s raining the next morning when I wake up to an incessant doorbell.
“Where the fuck are they?” Mr. Wilson says, standing in my doorway, looking pissed as hell.
“Where’s what?” I say, rubbing a bit of sleep from my eyelids, yawning in my undies and a nightshirt.
“Don’t fuck with me, Melissa. I have to get to work.” He holds up a soaked pink and white tennis shoe. “I know it was you.”
Shit. I was in such a hurry to leave last night I forgot my fucking shoes on his porch. How the fuck did I not notice?
“Okay, so it was me. So what?”
“So I’m calling the police.” His phone is already out. “I’m dialing.”
“Good, then I can tell them all about how you came into my home and stole underwear from my drawer.” He stops dialing.
He shoots me a cold, furious stare.
“Fine. You win.” He puts the phone away. “Let’s handle this like adults. Just give them back and—“
“Oh, so we’re adults now?” I can’t help smirking when I say it. “Because last time you were telling me how I was too young.” He’s looking away from me, refusing to make eye contact. “You know, when you had your cock down my throat?”
“Like I said, you win.” Clenched fists are shaking at his sides, white knuckled with building rage.
“Want to come in and talk about it?” He nods like every muscle in his neck is resisting.
I think I caught his eye twitch. Is he really that upset? He must have really underestimated me.
“Don’t be so serious!” I make a playful swipe at his shoulder, laughing. “Come on, I’ll show you where I hid them.
“You’re lucky my mom isn’t home,” I tell him as we’re walking up the stairs to my bedroom.
******
He’s just standing there for a while, not saying anything while I twist the spherical knob off one of my bedposts.
Underneath was a compartment where I’d hid Mr. Wilson’s keys, among other things. Like mom’s jewelry and my ex-boyfriend’s phone.
My finger hooks the small loop, the small brass key of his BMW dangles as I move toward him. My red manicured toes sink deep into the plush carpet with each step like a cat’s paws stalking its prey.
Mr. Wilson huffs, turns away with his arms crossed, holding a hand out.
I lift my shirt off while his head is turned.
“You want these?” I hold them out in front and let them drop. He turns at the barely audible sound of metal clanging against the floor. He rolls his eyes when he sees my bare tits, acting disinterested.
“Why don’t you give them a little suck first?”
He glances down at his watch “I don’t have time for this dammit! I’m fucking late.”
“Come on,” I say, getting in close enough that my perky tits are pressed against his chest. My hands work at the buttons of his ironed dress shirt, “You have to play the game if you want to win the prize.”
When the last button is undone,
I run my hands over the ripples of his solid chest, peeling off the shirt when I get to his broad shoulders.
My fingers run through the back of his hair, “Don’t you want to know what they taste like?” I cup one breast and guide it up to his pursed lips. Then they begin to part in a reluctant sneer.
“Mmm,” My head tilts back when I feel the hot wetness of his tongue circling the areola. My knees rub together and my panties feel wet.
“I’ve been a very naughty girl, Mr. Wilson.” His tongue flicks the nipple and my eyelids droop. His sucking intensifies. Is he finally starting to let go? Is he enjoying this?