by Scott, Ada
With my panties still halfway down my thighs, there was nothing at all stopping an errant trickle of my slippery juices from tormenting me. I could feel a single droplet slowly making the short journey downwards. With Austin straddling me and the wedding dress in the way, there was no escape from it, from him, from the tiny torturous pleasures.
I breathed in excited little pants around his finger, and pushed my thighs together as much as possible, desperate to scratch that itch. Looking up, I could see Austin watching me, drinking my inexperienced sexual desperation up like the elixir of youth.
He took his finger from my mouth and reached for my arm, pulling it until he could grasp my wrist again, taking control of what I touched as he had in the dressing room. This time though, instead of a tour of impeccable muscular structure, he placed my hand on his inner thigh
With a start, I tried to yank it back as if I’d been bitten, but Austin wouldn’t let me. Under my palm, then in my hand as he made my fingers curl around it, was his most intimidating muscle yet.
I let out a slow, shuddering, breath, and I swore the muscles in my pussy fluttered. He made my hand stroke up and down so I could feel its slowly increasing size and the hint of the ridge near the tip.
“Good girl.”
When Austin gave me that simple praise, I felt a surge of relief that competed with my excitement for a few seconds. To be in a situation like this, to become a… sexual being, for the first time. To not only avoid the terror and shame I was used to my whole life, but to have a man like Austin appreciate that side of me, was nothing short of magical.
My brow furrowed. There it was again. My pussy muscles fluttered, then once more. One by one, my other muscles clenched as that notion of an itch being scratched grew and grew until it was beyond any comparison.
A flush rose on my chest, up my neck, and made my cheeks warm with the rush of blood. I heard myself moaning and whimpering, louder with each hitched breath, before all sounds were drowned out by the thundering of my heart in my ears.
In a panic, I realized I was having a full-on orgasm without having even been touched. I tried to part my legs, to stop any stimulation of my clit, but it was too late. A lifetime of sexual repression burst the dam and I came right in front of my new husband.
I tried to snatch my hand back, but Austin held it firm and his manhood only swelled quicker, forcing my premature climax to even greater heights. I covered my face with my free hand, using it as the most ineffective hiding place in the world, as vocal bursts of pure pleasure squeezed out from between clenched teeth.
Pulses of humming ecstasy radiated from my clit, making my toes curl until I thought I was going to get cramps in my feet, and leaving me with quivering legs as it faded away.
A cold chill went down my spine as I comprehended what had just happened. Austin was used to pin-up girls, models, his pick of the groupies. Girls who were good at sex.
What would he think of me now? I knew he saw my purity ring before but did he, in his wildest dreams, realize just how inexperienced I was?
So much for ‘the sexual being’ I’d labelled myself only a few minutes before. When I raised my eyes to look at him, he’d be disappointed, I was sure of it.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered. That didn’t seem to cut it.
“What? That is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. You fuckin’ worship that cock, little girl.”
If he was lying, he was good at it. My embarrassment gave way to a fresh uprising of hope and anticipation as I basked in the glow of Austin’s undiminished sexual hunger.
He twisted his grip on my hair, making me suck a breath in through my teeth, when a jolt of excitement in my chest flashed in response to the sting on my scalp. Austin was seemingly in charge of my every movement, in this case tilting my ear up to him.
“Time for you to show me that sweet little pussy you thought you were saving for somebody else,” he whispered harshly.
Under my hand I could still feel the object of my worship, harder than ever, trapped down his pants leg as it strained against the material. He shuffled backwards and I thought he was going to free it from its prison, but instead he kept going until he was off the bed.
Austin grabbed my ankles and unceremoniously dragged me towards him until my ass was on the edge of the bed, with him between my legs. I propped myself up on my elbows, feeling my legs shaking from the vulnerability of my position, as well as the trailing edges of my orgasm.
My husband may have been fake, but there was no denying the reality of my arousal, as he reached up under my dress and continued what he’d started in the car when he pulled my panties down. He took his time, but there was a fire burning in his eyes that hinted at a raw passion held in check by sheer force of willpower.
I had to point my toes in the air so he could take my underwear off completely. He cast them aside, just one more pair of panties he’d melted in his life. He caught my legs and draped them over his shoulders.
With slow inevitability, he pushed my dress up, exposing inch after inch of my upper legs to his eyes. I watched his face for the moment, the moment, when a man saw my completely inexperienced, but eager, sex for the first time.
Would he compare it against others he’d seen? Would he like the Brazilian that the beautician had given me, after insisting that it was part of the standard bridal package? A million questions and doubts raced through my mind.
Austin was moving torturously slowly, and I was hyper-aware of every breath I was taking, my chest rising and falling and my heart beating hard within it. Austin’s eyes narrowed and he licked his lips before the corner curled up in that one-sided smile, the one he wore so often when he had me at his mercy.
“You were born to take my cock, Skylar. What a fucking perfect little pink pussy.”
What was happening seemed beyond impossible. I was exposed like never before to a man, my desire blatantly displayed through my orgasmic reaction, and the sopping wet mess he’d made of my pussy without having even touched it yet.
I was under his control, and he wanted me. More than that, I wanted him too, and for the first time in my life, that was just fine.
I bit my lip and squirmed pleasurably as he lifted one leg so he could plant a kiss on my calf, then started pecking his way upwards. When he reached the back of my knee, I moaned in surprised pleasure and collapsed back on the bed, running my hands through my hair and over my breasts.
Austin responded instantly, lingering there, holding me in place with a hand on my lower navel and all that muscle and strength, tempered by countless hours of training in the gym and combat in the ring. Every lick of his tongue, suck of his lips and prickle of his stubble was lightly mirrored by some confusion of nerves along my outer labia.
Involuntarily, I bucked my hips as much as he let me, unconsciously seeking out the source of that stimulation, trying to grind myself against something that wasn’t even there. I was being tormented by pleasure and, slowly, I reached towards my sex.
I’d never been with a man before, never felt anything like this before, I didn’t know what was OK. However, my body was taking charge, responding to the presence and obvious intent of this alpha male, and it was going to make me stroke myself right in front of him as he worked his way to my pussy with his lips.
At least, that’s what I thought was going to happen. Instead, when Austin caught me on the brink of touching myself, he took hold of my wrist and stopped me.
“That’s mine,” he said.
I whimpered with need, trying to pull him towards me with my legs, and succeeded only in lifting my ass off the bed for a few seconds. Austin switched his attention to my other leg, starting on the inside of my knee and then kissing and licking his way up my thighs with relish as if I was coated in a thin dusting of icing sugar.
After an eternity, he was so close. The hair on the back of his head brushed against my right thigh while his lips played tribute to my left, and I could feel the heat of him on the most sensitive spot I had, but
he still hadn’t touched what was his.
He turned his head to lick just to the side of my pussy, the crease where my leg ended, and the edge of his stubble tickled maddeningly close to where I needed him to be as the traces of his past kisses cooled in the air. Then he paused and I felt his hot breath against my virgin entrance.
I lifted my head, looking down with unveiled desperation at those broad shoulders, and the muscular inked arms wrapped around my thighs. Never in a million years, let alone the nineteen I’d been on this Earth, did I ever think I’d see a sight like that.
His head dipped and I felt his tongue delve between my folds, licking deep, licking long, from the bottom to the top of my pussy, finishing with a little flick on my clit that made me squeal and throw my head back against the mattress again.
“Mmmmm, fuck,” he breathed, and I felt that warm puff of air again.
I looked down with eyes that wanted to force themselves shut, but I couldn’t see his head under my wedding dress. Austin’s arms curled around even tighter, muscles bulging until they looked about as thick as my thighs, locking me in place with unbreakable power as his tongue found my slit again.
With that rough border of stubble focusing what felt like all the pleasure in the universe on my sex, Austin licked deep, touching me in places no man ever had, until his tongue brushed against my hymen. His biceps flexed at that, and he kissed my pussy with a wet smack before nibbling my outer labia with his lips, exploring me with such close appreciation that he would soon know me better than I knew myself. Maybe he already did.
My body responded to his attention the way it had since the first moment we met, and it was only Austin’s eager tongue that saved my wedding dress from getting even more soaked. My fake husband lapped at my sweet nectar as if he’d crossed a desert to go down on me, sounding like I was the most delicious meal he’d ever had.
I reached down beyond the bunched-up material of my wedding dress and ran my hands through his hair. My hips began to gyrate lightly against his face as each motion of his tongue and lips sent a pleasurable pulse of energy coursing from my clit to my belly, where it gathered in a humming ball of growing ecstasy.
Austin moved his hands until they were gripping my legs under the knees, and pushed them out and up until I was spread as far as I could go and my ass even rose off the bed a little. Just when I thought he couldn’t have me in a more vulnerable position, he found one.
In the back of my mind, the self that I’d grown up with was trying to remind me that I should feel ashamed to be like this. No wanton slut ever posed more crudely than this, but everything he did felt so damn good, that I had no brain power left to pay attention to everything that had hamstrung me my entire life.
“Holy ssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh….”
When Austin started licking me again, he turned all his attention to my clit, latching on with his lips and flicking furiously from side to side. My eyes rolled back in my head and I grasped at the covers on the bed so tightly I thought they might rip.
Every muscle in my body was thrumming with anticipation, shaking with the promise of the release of that ball of energy in my belly. There was no escape from Austin’s relentless assault on my clit, not in this position, not with his apparent determination to give me a lifetime of pleasure in a few minutes.
When I’d climaxed purely due to the feel of his cock through his pants, it was insane, but whatever was building inside of me now was going to turn my brain into mush. After a few more minutes, I started hearing a low humming in my ears, drowning out the occasional quiet slurp or murmur of appreciation from Austin, and the room seemed to get dim before my eyes.
A vision of a mushroom cloud flashed through my mind. This was it, the first murder by orgasm. So close… so… close…
Austin pulled back and stood up at the foot of the bed. Looking down at his handiwork with satisfaction.
I was right on the edge, driven halfway psycho with the need to cum, and he’d stopped. Why? Why?
“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” I almost screamed.
“I told you this day would come, Skylar. The next time you cum, I’m going to have my cock buried in you-”
“Yes, anything!” I interrupted.
“But first… fucking beg for it.”
Austin pushed his pants and underwear down, revealing a huge cock that looked harder than diamond jutting out from his body. Caught between my desperation, the surprise of his demand and my first sight of his rigid girth, I couldn’t begin to think what the right words might be.
“I… I don’t… please…”
After extracting his feet from the clothes around his ankles, he reached down and pulled me to a sitting position. His manhood was right in front of my face, towering above it, twitching with each beat of his heart.
Up close, it was beautiful and terrifying. The size and shape of it called out to some primal need hidden deep inside me, maybe every woman. I was so drawn to it that it was almost like a physical pull, yet there was no way I could take something like that, not my first time, no matter how strong all those muscles were that would be driving it forward.
Austin cradled my head with one hand and grasped his hard shaft with the other, slapping my face with his cock. Every heavy impact only seemed to remind my body how close I was to cumming.
This will take you over the edge, Skylar. Remember how hard you came when he wasn’t even touching you? Imagine…
“If you want this cock, if you want to know what it’s like to be fucked until you go blind, you’ll beg for it,” he said.
Tiny splatters of pre-cum were smeared on my face, almost as if he was branding me as his own, claiming me and leaving his mark. I found myself trying to trap his cock with my lips, to kiss and lick it as he had done to me. Anything for more of it, as each exhalation turned into a quiet whine of need.
Austin pushed his cock against my lips, circling them and distorting my facial expressions, but never letting me get it inside. It wasn’t fair! I wanted it!
“Say ‘fuck me hard, sir’,” he commanded.
I looked beyond the massive erection that dominated my field of vision to the heavyweight fighter I’d married with one last plea for mercy written on my face. There was no room for negotiation written on his.
“F-f-fuck…”
“Say it.” He tapped my face with his cock again.
“Fuck m-me… hard… sir.”
“Damn right. Now take that dress off or have it ripped off, you little fucktoy.”
Chapter 10
Skylar
My wedding dress had suffered enough for one day from how wet my husband had made me, so I took it off with a haste that surprised even myself, standing at the foot of the bed with him. Austin stopped me when all I had left on was my bra.
He curled one thick arm around my waist, holding my body against his as he reached for the clasp with his other hand. All I could think of was that immense cock pushing against my belly, and how I felt like a ragdoll in the presence of all his power. He had called me his fucktoy, after all.
With a snap of his fingers, the underwire of my bra released me, and I immediately felt the cool air on my skin as the undergarment fell loose. Austin pulled it off and threw it aside, grabbing one breast in his big hand, kneading it and giving the nipple a pinch hard enough that I moaned with my mouth closed.
Moving his hands under my armpits, Austin lifted me off the ground with no apparent effort at all and threw me back on the bed. Climbing on top of me before I’d finished bouncing, he pinned my hands to either side of my head as he kissed me deeper than I would have thought possible before meeting him.
I could feel the hard shaft of his cock brushing against my newly-shaven mound, his heavy balls bumping against my wet pussy. The moment I’d always been forbidden to even think about was so close. So close.
“Will you be… gentle?” I panted when our lips parted for a second.
Austin looked at me for a moment. “I could fuck you gentle…
or I could fuck you well. I know what I’m going to do.”
With that, he let go of one of my wrists and reached down to guide his cock. I felt a trail of pre-cum smeared across my bare skin as he slowly brought it towards my pussy, and had a flash of panic.
“Wait! Do you have a condom?”
“There’s no way I’m using a condom on you. I’m going to fuck you the way nature intended and I’m going to feel you breaking yourself on my cock when you cum, not a piece of rubber.”
“But… but, I’m not on the pill or-”
“You should have thought of that before you begged for my cock.”
The tip of his hard shaft slid over my clit, making me squeal sharply, before it was parting my labia, seeking out my unprotected entrance. He was no schoolboy fumbling to understand what to do, and it wasn’t long before he was putting steadily increasing pressure on my virgin pussy.
“Look at you, pretending to care about a condom, pretending to wait for some limp-dick purity-ring motherfucker to marry you. You want to feel the hot cum of a real man inside you, you want to give it all up to me. You’re fuckin’ aching for it. I can see it. Tell me to fuck you as hard as I can.”
My cheeks were burning in response to his words. He crashed through the walls I’d built up my whole life as if they weren’t even there, and saw me either for what I really was… or what his mere presence turned me into.
I wasn’t blushing because he was lying. I was blushing because he was telling the truth. My eyes were watering with the desperate need of my body.
Fucking me with that lethal weapon between his legs would be more than I could take, but anything would be better than having to live without it. Anything. I was his to use, condom or not.
“F-uck me as h-hard as you c-can.”
I couldn’t possibly know exactly what that would mean, and in a way it didn’t matter. All I could do was cope with each passing moment, starting with that pressure that immediately resumed against my completely inexperienced pussy.
Austin watched me with such intensity that it was like being under a spotlight. I’d never been the subject of such close focus before, as he read every quiver of my lip, every hitch of my breath and twitch of my eyelids, seeming to know exactly when I was at the breaking point, my pain threshold, then slowing down for a second.