by B. B. Hamel
He began to tug my dress up over my hips. I could feel how soaked I was, how excited I was, and although I knew this was probably a bad idea, I didn’t care. Because I wanted him and had ever since we’d first met.
He reached up my dress, up between my legs, rubbing my pussy over my ruined panties.
“Soaked,” he grunted. “Just like I knew you would be.”
“I can’t help it,” I gasped.
“Damn right you can’t,” he said, grinning. I felt him take the edges of my panties and pull them down around my thighs. His lips kissed my neck as his fingers found my soaked clit and began to slowly rub me.
Waves of pleasure ran through my mind. The man was insatiable, starving, and he came at my body like a hurricane.
“Fuck this pussy is nice,” he said. “You’re soaked for me. You’re begging for my thick cock.”
“Nash,” I moaned.
“That’s right,” he said. “Say my fucking name.” He slipped his fingers deep inside me and began to fuck me with them.
“Oh shit,” I gasped.
“God this tight fucking pussy is incredible.” He slipped his fingers back out and rubbed my clit, alternating between fucking me and rubbing my clit. His other hand felt my breasts and pulled my hair back, his lips gently roaming my skin.
Suddenly he pulled back, grabbing me by the hips and yanking me away from the door. He pushed me into the room, grinning at me. He pressed me down onto the couch, and I collapsed onto the cushions, laughing.
He stripped his shirt off, staring down at me. My dress was up around my hips, my panties down around my thighs. I stared at his muscular chest, at the scars dotting his skin, at the tattoos snaking up along his arms and chest. He was so muscular, so defined, so incredibly hot. I squirmed as he dropped down onto his knees, slowly peeling my panties off my legs.
I stared down at him. “Nash, you don’t—”
“Shut up,” he said. “I want to taste your pussy. I want to make you scream.”
He tossed my panties away and spread my legs wide. I bit my lip as I felt his tongue touch my clit. He licked me softly at first, but soon his tongue was working my swollen and soaked clit in incredible circles.
I couldn’t do anything but reach back over my shoulders and grab on to the top of the couch. His mouth nibbled and sucked and licked at my clit, eating me like an animal. I felt his finger slip inside me, slowly fucking my pussy as he sucked my clit.
“Damn,” he grunted, looking up at me, his fingers sliding in and out. “You’re fucking delicious. I knew you would be.”
“Nash,” I gasped, “don’t be so dirty.”
“You want it dirty and you know it.” He grinned at me. “You’re a filthy fucking girl.” He pressed his mouth back to my clit, sucking it hard, licking me up and down. I wanted to respond, to tell him that I wasn’t, that I wasn’t normally like this, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t deny it even though I wanted to.
Because even if I didn’t normally marry guys and let them eat me out, I was like that with him. I was a slut for him, and I knew it. My panties were constantly soaked around him, and I couldn’t even keep my hands away from him. I’d barely lasted a few days before his incredible face was between my legs, eating my pussy like an animal.
And it felt incredible, perfect. He took me roughly, his mouth working me, and I felt the pleasure rocket through my entire body. His fingers slipped in and out, pushing inside me, his tongue lapping at my clit.
I pressed my hands down on his head, weaving my fingers through his hair. I pressed him harder against my pussy, closing my eyes, letting myself get lost in his mouth, his dirty mouth.
I threw my head back, moaning as he licked and sucked me.
I couldn’t believe what was happening, but I also couldn’t think about it. The only thing I felt was his mouth against my pussy, eating me hungrily, his lips sucking and tongue licking. I gripped his hair harder, rolling my hips, losing myself in the overwhelming pleasure.
I almost felt like I couldn’t take anymore. It was so good, so strong, and he was so incredible that I felt like I was going to completely black out from the pure, overwhelming pleasure. I was walking the fine line, sitting on the edge of my orgasm. He was masterfully pressing me closer and closer and then slightly stepping back, heightening my desire.
And just as I felt like it was time, he pulled his head back, grinning at me.
“Turn,” he said.
“What?”
He grabbed my hips, spinning me, putting my knees on the couch cushions, my ass in the air.
“Fuck, girl,” he said. I looked back as he pulled a condom from his pants and removed the rest of his clothes. I was dripping wet and panting slightly, eager for his cock.
“That’s the view I love,” he said. “That wet pussy in the air, that look on your face, begging me to fuck you.”
“Hurry,” I said.
He laughed as he rolled the condom down his big dick and then slapped my ass hard. I let out a soft moan and he slapped me again.
“Beg me,” he said. “Beg me to fuck that pussy nice and rough. Beg me to make you come.”
“Please,” I moaned. “Please fuck me, Nash. Please. I need it.”
He pulled my chin back and kissed me hard. I felt his cock press against my pussy and then push deep inside me.
I pulled away from his kiss and let out a loud, low moan. It was amazing, the perfect mix of pleasure and slight pain from his amazing cock. He filled me up, filled me to the brim, as he slowly pressed himself deep inside me.
“Shit this pussy is tight,” he said. “Tight and tastes fucking delicious. The perfect pussy.”
“Nash,” I moaned. “Fuck me deep. I want you to make me come.”
“Do you?” he whispered in my ear. “You dirty fucking girl. I love to hear you beg.”
“Please,” I moaned as he began to fuck me.
“Take this big cock, girl,” he said. “Take this cock like you can’t live without it.”
I held on to the top of the couch as he grabbed my hips and began to thrust inside me, fucking my tight pussy, fucking me deep. I moaned with abandon, not thinking about anything but the pleasure rocketing through my veins.
“Fuck you drive me wild,” he said. “This fucking body, this pussy. You grip my cock like a vice.” I felt him slap my ass again, and I moaned. “And you love it when I’m a little rough, don’t you?”
“Take me,” I said.
He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back, fucking me deep and slow. “You want to come, don’t you?”
“God,” I moaned. “I’ve been so close forever.”
“That’s how I like it. Get you right to the edge, make you beg.”
“Please,” I said. “Please, make me come.”
Without another word, he began to fuck me nice and rough. His other hand reached around my leg and rubbed my clit, working me that way.
I lost myself in his strong arms, his amazing cock filling me, his practiced fingers rubbing me with that perfect pressure I craved. He was incredible, fucking me rough, rubbing my clit, all with precision and strength.
His cock slammed into me, deep and hard. I loved the sound of him fucking me hard, taking me from behind, fucking me like I needed to be fucked. I rocked my hips back against him, working him, taking his thick cock deep inside me.
“Fuck me, Nash,” I moaned over and over. “Nash, fuck my pussy.”
“That’s right. Take this big dick. Your pussy is so fucking dripping wet, you dirty girl,” he said, fucking me deep.
His thrusts grew harder, more insistent. I could feel the pressure inside me growing, this time even stronger than before. I knew I couldn’t help myself, couldn’t hold it back even if I wanted to. He was just too much, his thick cock too deep inside me.
And the orgasm washed over my body. I tensed, my muscles firing, my blood boiling, my whole body overwhelmed with pleasure and explosive joy as I came hard.
I said his name, over and over, and he just worked me,
our bodies sweating.
It was the most intense orgasm of my life. I bit down on the couch as I came toward the end, just barely trying to keep myself from screaming.
Finally, it slowly ended, the orgasm washing over me, leaving an incredible, pleasurable glow.
“Fuck, Selena,” he said. “The way you come drives me over the fucking edge.”
He kept thrusting, both hands on my hips, pushing deep inside me. I looked back at him, my lips open.
“Come inside me,” I said. “Fill me up, Nash.”
He grunted his pleasure and fucked me harder, rougher, fucked me like an animal. I took his big cock, rocked my hips, helped him along by moaning his name over and over.
And soon I felt him stiffen behind me, felt him come deep inside my pussy.
Slowly his rough thrusts came to an end, and he collapsed next to me on the couch.
“Shit,” he said, breathing deeply. I collapsed next to him, my head on his chest. We were both exhausted and spent, covered in sweat.
“That was great,” I said, smiling.
“Great? That was fucking perfect.” He grinned and slipped the condom off.
“I thought you were exaggerating,” I said.
“I’m a real SEAL,” he said. “We learn to use every tool at our disposal.”
I laughed and sat there with him, my head buzzing, I couldn’t believe what had happened and how it had happened. I had wanted to keep things professional, to keep some distance between me and the man I had married.
But there I was, naked and sweating with him, enjoying my post-orgasm buzz.
16
Nash
I slipped out of bed just as the sun was rising. Selena was still sleeping peacefully, and I didn’t feel like waking her.
I padded out into the main room and sat down on the couch. It felt good to finally sleep in a damn bed and not have to stay on the couch.
It felt even better to get a taste of that pussy. But it was dangerous, too. We’d spent the night exploring each other’s bodies, not stopping to think about what we were doing. I made her come again and again, made her swallow my cum, made her take my cock, gave her what she wanted and took what I wanted.
And I wanted it again. And again. And again.
Which was dangerous as hell in my line of work. Yeah, true, I wasn’t out running missions anymore, but I was still a damn SEAL. I could be called up to serve at any point, and frankly I hoped I would, and soon. I didn’t need another attachment, and yet when I thought of that pussy, I couldn’t imagine not having her wrapped around me.
It was pretty fucked, truth be told. I came into this hoping to find a nice girl to parade in front of the cameras, pay her good for it at the end of it all. I had never expected to start fucking her, and to want it so fucking intensely that I could feel her pulsing in my veins. But there I was, fucking hard in the morning just thinking about her sweet cunt sliding soaked up along my hard cock.
I stood up and walked over to the phone. I ordered some room service breakfast, including plenty of coffee and some stuff I thought Selena might want to eat. True, I was walking around in just my underwear, but I could at least be a fucking gentleman.
I put the TV on to some baseball highlights and zoned out, thinking back over the night. I kept thinking about her back arched as she came, saying my name over and over. That look on her face as her orgasm hit her like a truck drove me insane and lit a fire in my cock. It was amazing the way she begged for it, the way her pussy gripped my cock, and she never seemed to get tired of me fucking her nice and deep.
I could feel myself getting hungry for her again. Maybe I would have to go wake her up after all and give her a nice breakfast of my cock.
Before I could do that, there was a knock at the door. Grunting, I grabbed the pair of pants I had left on the ground the night before, slipped them on, and opened the door. The room service guy wheeled in the cart and set it up. I tossed him a few dollars and surveyed my food.
I heard some noise from the bedroom as I poured myself a cup of coffee and grabbed a handful of bacon. Selena emerged a minute later, wearing short cotton shorts and a thin white T-shirt, looking sexy as fuck with her hair all messy.
“Morning,” I grunted. “Got breakfast.”
“Oh. Good.” She walked over to the cart as I sat down at the table, sipping my coffee and watching her.
She glanced at me but quickly looked away. I frowned at that. Normally she couldn’t help but fucking stare at me, but this morning she was acting like a frightened woodland creature. If I spoke, I was willing to bet she’d scamper away and hide behind some trees.
“How’d you sleep?” I asked her.
“Fine.”
“Food look okay?”
“Great. Thanks.”
Fuck. This was why I kicked every slut out after our one night together. I hated fucking awkwardness, hated fucking post-sex awkwardness even more. The girl was clearly feeling weird about all the work I’d put her body through and suddenly was acting weird.
We didn’t have to be all fucking lovey-dovey. I didn’t want that shit. We didn’t even have to fuck again, though that’d be nice. I just didn’t need this damn stupid awkwardness.
“Okay, let’s get it out there,” I said finally, unable to keep my damn mouth shut. “I fucked you last night, made you come again and again, and you can’t stop thinking about it.”
She stared at me, wide-eyed. Just like a doe caught in front of a speeding van. I couldn’t help but laugh at her. Quickly, that fear turned into anger.
“You don’t have to be an asshole,” she said. “It’s not like I was drunk. I remember what we did.”
“Good. So no need to act weird about it.”
“I’m not.”
I laughed again, grinning at her. “Come off it. You’re acting all weird. I don’t need this awkward shit between us.”
“I’m not acting weird,” she said, annoyed. “But you’re definitely being a dick.”
“Whatever you say, girl. You’re my wife now though. You’ll have to get used to the sweet fucking I gave you.”
She made a face. “I’m not getting used to anything.” She poured herself a cup of coffee. “You’re so damn arrogant, you know that?”
“Maybe. And your pussy is like a fucking magnet for my steel cock.”
“Steel cock?” she said, laughing.
“Lighten up a bit, babe.”
She shook her head. “Look, you want to talk about last night?”
“Not really,” I said. “I just want this awkward shit to go away.”
“Fine. Last night happened. We can’t take it back. Let’s just pretend like it didn’t and go back to normal.”
I stared at her for a second. I didn’t want to pretend like it hadn’t happened. I wanted to keep fucking her, to keep making her say my name.
But I wasn’t some pussy-whipped pathetic loser. If she wanted to ignore it, then that was fine by me. I’d get what I wanted in the end.
“Whatever you say,” I grunted at her.
“Okay.” She turned and disappeared back into the bedroom.
So much for sleeping in the bed. I’d better get used to these damn couches, and quick.
I didn’t have much time to be annoyed about that. There was another knock at the door, and I had a pretty good guess about who it was.
I walked over and pulled it open. “Morning, Liv.”
“Put a shirt on,” she muttered, “and let me inside.”
I stepped back and she walked in. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Is your wife around?”
I heard the shower running and shook my head. “Sounds like she’s busy.”
“Good.” Livy sat down at the table and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Sit. Let’s talk.”
I sat down and sighed. “The fuck is this about, Liv? It’s early.”
“I know what’s happening with this girl,” she said.
I stared at her, grinning dangerously
. “You’ve finally noticed our love?”
“Don’t bullshit me, Nash. I know this whole thing is a charade.”
“Why would I marry some random girl for absolutely no reason?”
“I’ve been wondering about that actually,” Liv said. “I know you hate this whole tour. I know there’s something going on here that I’m not aware of, and frankly I don’t really care about it.”
I smiled at her, listening. Livy was a capable person, bright and intuitive, and I knew she had figured all this out the second she saw us get off the plane.
What I didn’t know, though, was why she’d decided to bring it up now.
“Okay, Liv,” I said. “What’s your theory?”
“I believe you think marrying this normal girl will somehow endear you to the publishers. You’re probably hoping you can end this book tour sooner that way.”
I nodded. “I do fucking hate this tour, but I married Selena because we’re in love.”
Livy nodded. “Sure. But if that weren’t the case, this is what I’m offering.” She paused to sip her coffee. “I won’t tell the media that you sleep on the couch most nights. I won’t tell them that I’ve never seen the two of you kiss, flirt, or really act like a newlywed couple. I’ll even put in a good word to the publisher.”
“In exchange for what?”
“Behave. That’s all I ask. Stop making my life a fucking stressful hell. Show up to media events on time. Stop staying out all night with random hookers. Try and be more sober.”
I laughed at that last one.
“I’m not asking for perfection here, Nash. Just stop being such a dick.”
I nodded slowly. “If what you said were true, that’d be fine with me.”
“One thing more,” she said. “What’s your endgame here?”
I looked at her for a second. I didn’t believe that Liv didn’t have some ulterior motive here, but I did know that she could be useful.
“If it were true,” I said, “I want back in the game. I want active duty again. No more of this pretty-boy media star. I want back in the shit.”
Liv nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.”
She stood up and looked at her phone. “You and Selena have an interview in an hour. Then we leave for Brown.”