Page 38 of Bad At Love

Again and again, he tapped the head of his dick against her closed lips, traced the shape with extreme attention. Every nerve in her body stretched and stretched and her lower belly felt like a coiled spring.

“Now, open for me.”

She did, eagerly, and her first taste of him was…exquisite. Salt and musk and all man, he exploded on her tongue. He fed her only the head first, pumping in, tapping against the inside of her cheek and forcing her to release him with a pop.

Pleasure hummed and buzzed through her, the very idea of blowing his load, and his mind, driving her own arousal.

“Wider, Char,” he said, thrusting deeper on a stroke and pulling away just as her gag rose. “Fuck, but that’s a pretty mouth.”

On and on, he ravaged her mouth with short, fast strokes and deep, long ones that made her breath pulse out of reach. His balls slapped against her chin and she tugged at her hands automatically, desperate to play with them. Only to realize that she couldn’t.

Refusing to be thwarted, she licked one when it hit her lower lip.

“Oh baby, that’s it. That’s perfect,” he said, tension thrumming within each word. “I bet it hurts a little but it’s a good hurt, yeah?”

She nodded. Tears filled her eyes and flew down into the sheets, probably making a mess of her mascara but she didn’t care. Her cheeks hurt and her throat was just a little raw and every inch of her burned and ached and pulsed with spiraling arousal. She focused her hazy gaze on him and that was a torment too because he looked so painfully…gorgeous like this.

A thin layer of sweat painted his pale skin. Pupils blown wide, mouth twisted with concentration, hair sticky against his forehead, filthy orders falling from his lips, he looked nothing like the polite, kind gentleman she had known for nearly two decades.

Now, he was a mindless beast rutting on her, needing her.

But her beast.All hers and damn if any other woman got to see him like this ever again.

Even the intrusively possessive thought didn’t shake her out of her lust. Like raindrops against parched skin, she drank him, his naked desire, up. Through it all, her own arousal deepened, her pussy weeping for attention.

“I’m so close, Char. You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart. So good. Open up deeper, baby. I need to feel your throat squeezing me.”

And then he was there, against the back of her throat, ravaging her, lost to his own pleasure. Sweat drops plopped against her skin while he fucked her mouth raw and rough, with a slice of hurt on the side, just the way she needed it. Her pussy gushed with dampness, the tension in her lower belly coiling because she couldn’t escape this, couldn’t touch herself.

Breath was a mirage hovering out of reach.

Then, his entire body shuddered, and his cock pulsed against her throat as he spilled with a rough, long moan that seemed to reverberate from his very core. “Fuck, Char. That’s good! That feels so good!”

Chaaru’s breath came gushing back into her, along with a warm stream of cum against her tongue. She panted and it spilled against the corner of her mouth and ran down her neck, thoroughly coating her.

Tears and snot and mascara and cum…she could just imagine how she must look. His chest still shaking, DP untied the scarf. Shaking her slightly sore wrists, she made to wipe off the worst of the fluid cocktail from her face when he stopped her.

“I must look a sight,” she said, meeting his eyes.

Satisfaction blazed there and his lips looked soft in a way she’d never seen before. Satiated but also more. Like a man who’d tasted paradise. “You’re beautiful like this. Messy, yes, but mine.” He reached down, grabbed the edge of a sheet and wiped her mouth and neck gently. “You okay?”

The entire universe dwelled in that question. And by the look in his eyes, Chaaru knew he would never forgive himself if he’d hurt her. But he hadn’t. If anything, he had only liberated her from the last tendrils of shame and fear that had stuck to her psyche like cobwebs. “You gave me exactly what I craved for so many years.”

“My cum?” he said, mouth twitching.

She scraped her fingernails down his thick thighs, not gently, and had the reward of seeing him grunt. “My sexual agency back. Thank you, DP.”

“Thank you for letting me use your throat as my favorite cock squeeze.” Then he crawled down her body. For a man built like a truck, he moved deftly. “And now...” Rough, urgent hands pulled her thighs apart. He nudged his broad shoulders in between, stretching her indecently wide.

On her next breath, she felt his scruff and a warm puff of air against her inner thighs. Nimble fingers tore her panties and his thumb traced the thin strip of hair.

She could feel his lips curve, his words ‘hello, pretty pussy,’ sending vibrations up and down her clit. Then he took a deep breath, as if the scent of her was all that was keeping him alive.

Her phone alarm went off somewhere, jerking Chaaru back into reality with its shrillness. “What are you doing?” A stupid question but then she was only half present on this plane.

“Eating you out, baby. All that work you put me through with your mouth. I’m hungry as hell.” And then he dived into her folds as if there was treasure hiding there. The purse and pull of his lips around her clit scorched her.

“The alarm?” she said, moaning and writhing under the flutter of his tongue.

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