by Celia Crown
He shoves two fingers in, rubbing on my walls and curling them in an angle that touches the spot to have me squealing loudly.
After weeks of denied orgasm, my body is in over-sensitive haywire. I felt the orgasming coming, I knew it was coming but I wouldn’t get the words out fast enough to let him know that his strokes are making me crazy and addicted.
My surprise squeak is the only warning as I cum with jerky bucks of my hips, grinding on his face as I feel myself getting wetter when he fucks my pussy through the orgasm. My body aches so much, from the pressure and from the need to come again as he continues to suck and roll my button around with his tongue.
My clit pops out of his mouth as his breath fans over my quivering folds.
“Mark, please. Need you,” I beg weakly.
“You’re still too tight to take my fat cock.”
He dives back between my thighs and I scream his name.
Chapter Ten
Mark
She’s so fucking gorgeous; delicate skin flushing in the purest pink, chanting my name with a prayer hanging from her lips, and her swollen and sodden cunt so prettily open for me.
She smells just as good as she looks, taste even sweeter than honey. I can't get enough of her, not when she is shaking and trembling from too many stimulants. I have been edging her for a month now and she is too desperate to push me off, too needy for my cock to fuck her little pussy open.
I have to fuck her, that is if I’m willing to put that over my thirst for her pussy. It’s such a hard decision to make, both are my weaknesses. My cock throbs painfully as I push down on the bed, trying to alleviate the need to cum.
“Mark, Mark—” she squeals with a tone of giddiness as if she wants to laugh but it tapers off to a throaty moan when I fasten my fingers into those silken walls. I clamp my lips over her clit again, relishing on her delighted shriek as she trembles.
I hum low and loud, forcing her clit to take the vibration as I spread my fingers to make her walls accommodate the new stretch. I have to get her ready or else it would hurt, she reeks of innocence and virginity. Her unused cunt would not be able to take my cock as I’m much bigger than her, her walls are struggling to take the third finger and Camille is choking on her sobs.
When my fingers settle knuckles-deep inside, her walls throb and coil tightly around the digits as she winces. I could tell that the aching she feels troubles her as her brows furrow deeply, crinkling her smooth forehead as she hiccups.
“I-it feels weird,” she comments lightly, her throat bobs as she swallows.
I scrape her clit, bringing me a mewl as she lifts off her elbow.
“Get used to it,” I rasp, fanning her clit with my breath.
She bites her lips, “But—”
“Do you want my cock?” I ask, there is no shame in my word as she blushes at my vulgar mouth. “Want me to fuck your tiny pussy open, want me to make you cum again?”
“Yeah,” she nods drunkenly, “Want you.”
I purr her name, she mewls softly in response.
“Please? I-I need— want you so much.” Camille hiccups, “I’m okay, ready. Ready for you.”
God, I want to get another orgasm from her. Just one more so I know she is wet enough, though she is soaking my sheets with her pussy juice. I’m a greedy man who wants to taste that gush of slick running in my mouth as she becomes debauched once more.
My cock throbs in protest.
I don’t relent, her comfort comes first. I refuse to let her be in pain when she takes my cock, and it would be her first time, I want her to have the greatest pleasure.
Twisting my fingers, keeping her in a limbo of teasing and waiting as I fill her wet pussy with my fingers. I spread all three suddenly, catching her clit in my mouth while her lips squeak with a muffled cry that has her cunt gushing with another flow of slick running down my chin.
Using my tongue to drag one achingly long hard lick up her slippery button, her back arches so beautifully as she whines. I could see the red welts from her fingernails dragging and clinging onto her inner thighs, she’s a good girl, listening to my orders even when I see the twitches in her to grasp my hair.
Next time, I mentally purr.
“O-oh, please, Mark, please!” she whispers, sobbing and crying with her hips canting my face.
Since she can take three of my fingers, she is ready for my cock. She’s mewling in triumphant with a hitched breath that tells me to indulge on her orgasm when it comes, I start moving quicker, curling inside her and pumping furiously.
It’s the prettiest sound I have ever heard when she comes, her velvety walls coiling hotly around my fingers as she writhes on the bed. Soaking the sheets under her ass, it’s such an obscene sight to commit to memory as I growl against her clit.
I crook my fingers upward and she wounds up tighter.
“Fucking hell,” I murmur right on her clit, fighting the stars in my eyes as my cock is about to explode and soil my briefs if I don’t get her pussy around my shaft.
I lift myself away from her cunt, a frenzied heart racing in my ribs as I stare down on her. Wrecked and disorientated as her beautiful body twitches, her tits are hidden in her nightshirt and I peel that offensive fabric off her head with one swipe. She’s limp in my arm, letting me manhandle her in a position where she has her supple thighs around my waist and my cock pressing down on her twitching clit.
I lick my lips, tasting the remnant of her slick as she blinks with a dazed expression. Condoms are not permitted between us, I don’t want anything to separate Camille and me, and nothing will stop me from having her little pussy milk my cock.
“Look at you, so fucking wet.” I pinch her puffy nipple, and her lips open with a meek whimper.
“Filthy girl,” I hiss, slapping my cock over her swollen clit.
She jerks, head tilting backward and eyes pressing shut as she rocks her hips. I can feel the slick going down my shaft, trickling down to my balls and her fluttering slits part for my girth to bump into her button when I thrust forward.
“Stop it.” I still her quivering hips, “I want to come inside you.”
She moans desperately.
“I want to stretch your wanton little cunt, fill your snug pussy with my seed until it gushes from you.”
She nods dazedly, panting with her round tits bouncing delicately.
I guide my shaft to the sticky, slippery folds of her pussy. Her slick clings onto my cock as I nudge the head to her small hole, she tenses under my hand on her waist.
“Relax,” I command her, I would be a little more patient and kinder to her if my cock isn’t about to burst.
She breathes in through her pink lips, shuddering with every weak inhale as she grabs her tits to ground her when the head breach her snug slits. Big eyes flutter shut as she drops her head down on the pillow, I groan at the scorching hotness wrapping my length as I inch deeper. Too tight, her virgin cunt struggles to take my heavy cock as she snaps her eyes open at the same time when she lets go of her tits to find my arms.
I lean down to feel her arms around my neck, it’s the best I can do to soothe her aching when I surge forward to cut her pain shorter. Her pussy flutters around my cock, coiling to get familiarize with the thickness that has me questioning whether she is broken or not when she doesn’t make a noise.
Lifting my head, I watch her completely lost expression, glazed eyes and trembling lips.
“Cammie?” I whisper.
She takes a moment to answer back, “Mm.”
Watching her face for any discomfort, I pull back and slowly thrust back into her hot, silky pussy. As expected, she grimaces as I test out three more strokes. Giving her a feel at the new sensation she’s experiencing.
At the first moan, she hugs me tighter. I set my elbow by her head and use my other hand to pin her thigh to the bed, I begin to fuck her. Slow and hard, groaning hoarsely into her ear as she tries to hold onto my shaft every time I pull out.
Camille gets tighte
r, impossibly tight when my hips ram in while scraping her sodden clit with my abdomen.
She bucks her hip, chasing mindlessly after her pleasure. I know the signs of her orgasm, it’s so natural for my body to pick up the signs as I have been stringing her body into submission for weeks. Like it or not, she is an open book and as a hacker, it’s a bad thing.
As Camille, as mine, it’s a good thing.
My strength outmatches hers, I easily lift my hips and start a pace that frightens her as she asks me to slow down, but I don’t. I have been waiting for this, I have been waiting like a caged animal to have her submit to me and her submission is the sweetest ambrosia.
Hammering inside her silken pussy, she’s squealing and squeaking with her broken voice.
“I-it’s so big,” Camille mewls wantonly, gasping for air as she presses her lips to my jaw.
Mouthing and nipping, her hitched breathing is so erotically arousing. I made her like this, I made her like a needy little girl.
Plunging deeply, my cock forces her walls to stretch further when I slam into her deepest part. She screams, claiming her mark on my back with her nails running red lines that burn on my skin.
“N-not so rough,” she begs, “Please.”
“You take what I give you,” I snap, biting on her frail neck.
She squeezes at the bite, my hips never once break their fast tempo to pummel heavily in her breeching cunt, drooling with slick and quivering with sensitivity. She can beg however she like, but I know she can take this rough fucking. Camille is made for me, a destined match for my cock to call home.
Camille is young, so young that her pussy is fertile, and it causes me to savagely split her pussy open. The thought of filling her womb with my thick cum crosses my mind more times than I can count, and that is the only thing I’m thinking about.
It’s a primitive need to mark my territory, and what’s a better way to ingrain in her head that I own her than do exactly as I want. She belongs to me just as I belong to her; mind, body, and soul— my heart has been hers the moment I lay eyes on her and her stupid panda mascot head.
“I-I—” she shudders, tears rolling around in her big eyes. “It’s coming again, Mark.”
I kiss her wobbling lips, calming the fear in her heart about this bigger and more intense orgasm.
When she is close to coming, her body would shake violently. A hiccup would always make way for a moan that is too wanton, a finger gets bitten between her pearly whites and I know it’s a way for her to get some control over her body. She gets scared when she thinks she’s coming, she says it’s because her body isn’t hers the moment it takes off and she’s afraid of that intense feeling.
“I-I’m scared,” she whimpers, burying her face into my neck and stiffening as my thrusting hips get her closer.
I change my pace to rolling my hips, snaking an arm around her waist to bring her support and comfort. I enclose her into my body, trapping her clit in an endless circle of pleasure as she wraps her legs around me.
Every stroke gets me balls-deep, drenching my shaft with her juices.
My name barely passes her lips when she shamelessly moans in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. Her cunt flutters around me, clenching at the base of my girthy length as her tiny slits try to suck the cum from my tightening balls.
I keep driving into her, through her waves of orgasm and through her oversensitivity.
My hips shudders, fucking through the disgustingly wet squishes. I keep her bucking hips still with my weight as the first spurt of cum splashes hotly inside her coiling walls. Thickly coating her quaking pussy, I sink deep inside her as I make her hungry cunt accept my seed.
Streams and streams of slick cum flow languidly inside, a trail of stickiness oozes out her stuffed folds. There’s too much cum for her small pussy to contain and it’s filthily satisfying.
“I-I think I see the galaxy,” she murmurs deliriously to herself.
I laugh at her exaggeration.
Chapter Eleven
Camille
I wake up with Mark sleeping soundly next to me, I stay in the bed just watching over his peaceful breathing while his arm is heavy across my chest. The rigid plane of his back slowly rises up and down as he is oblivious to the world, he usually awakes before me and is almost always dressed.
Rubbing my thumb over the designs on his arm, I draw the pattern of his tattoos absentmindedly. I turn over, snuggling to his side as I breathe deeply. His scent lingers in my mind and I smile lightly, wishful thinking has me dreaming of a family with this man and that we could live happily ever after.
Too bad this fairy tale is coming to an end rather quickly.
Maybe in a different lifetime, a universe where I can freely express my love for him without having our difference hanging above our head like a bad omen. A world where I can hold his hand, kiss his soft lips, and go on dates.
In this lifetime, I’m a criminal and he’s the savior of the country. We are separated by this black and white world that would ultimately do anything to divide us into each clear category. He shouldn’t be judged by the things I have done; his sparklingly clean reputation has been tainted enough by me and any longer would render the life that he had built from working to an uncreditable agent.
He’s going to have to choose between his work and me, and I never wish upon that decision to be his burden. I need to be the one to help him cut his losses, I’m the one who drew the short straw and I’m not even the slightest regretful.
Mark had become someone too important to me, it’s the first time I feel this connection to anything other than my computer.
Now or in the near future, I can only be trouble for him. From the criminal enterprises that request my service and the duty he is bounded by the law to follow through, one of us will hurt with more than heartaches.
I can stop being a hacker, I can stop this illegal work that I do, but the past will always linger. Mark’s actions would be called into questioning and under scrutiny with every command that he makes as the Director of Security within the CIA. The government would pull his rank, throw away his hard work, and paint him as an untrustworthy asset that needs to be away from national security.
I can’t be selfish.
Hacking into the school system, breaching security alarms, intaking information, and breaking laws. All those things are done for me, all me and nobody else. It’s about me and me, I didn’t actually stop to think that even though anyone could pull together a conclusion on what the information I give to my customers could do to the victim that I have help harm in one way or another.
Not this time.
Protecting Mark is my number one priority.
Hardening my resolve, I slip his arm over my head gently as to not disturb his sleep. Three days of dismantling the attack, he must be exhausted or he would have woken up just with my touches.
Gathering my discarded shirt and panties, I put them on while the trickling of his cum runs down my thighs. My panties filthily drag them up and they become flush and warm against my sore pussy. I squirm as I stand on my shaky feet, he really did a number on me last night.
I shake my head from the image of his loving eyes gazing at me like I’m the moon in his world. I’m not sure if it’s how he looks at me all the time or if that’s just in the heat of the moment as the aftershock wears off.
Never in the month did he ever show a sign that he wants to be with me, nothing about the potential future that he would like to have me in, and absolutely nothing about the end of our work relationship.
The naïve girl in me most likely read too into his touches, overthought on his words and mistook his possessiveness to Camille, the girl, for Grey, the asset.
Mark is still the enigma from a month ago, I realize that I know nothing about him in terms of his thoughts. He is the CIA, probably one of the best and deception is a required skill in his résumé.
I’m overthinking right now, I need to stop this horrible character trait.
Changing would waste time, I need to fix things before he wakes up.
Clumsily yanking my knee-high socks on, it’s that same orange color on my first day meeting him. I could tell it bothered Mark the first time he saw me; pink slippers and orange socks are a dreadful combination.
I put my feet into the slippers, completing my look similar to the beginning of this journey.
I close the suitcase quietly and paddle out the bedroom door to stand in his office, giving it once over with my eyes as it has been my so-called home for what it feels like an eternity. I make a beeline to the workstation that I have claimed, there is a tube of wet wipes for my greasy fingers after eating.
Cleaning off the surface of the conference table and the chair I sat in is easy, I could see my reflection on the wood by the time I use two wet wipes. The wireless keyboard is a gift from the CIA department, so I have to clean that too, I may be a criminal but I’m not a thief.
I move around his office, wiping down every surface I could reach because any place I could reach, there is bound to have some of my fingerprints on it. It’s better safe than sorry, I could never know what kind of schemes the government is planning.
I keep Mark’s keyboard untouched while I begin to wipe my existence from his system and the entirety of my presence from the government network. It takes some time because for some odd reason, they have my file along with all the alleged crimes I have committed and accessory after the fact seems to be their favorite charge as all the unsigned and unprinted warrants is being kept readily in one file.
I would have laughed if this isn’t a matter of national security.
Honestly speaking, I have no idea the government is that interested in someone who just provides information.
In their eyes, I’m equally guilty of the crimes committed by my customers.