Page 152 of Riding the Sugar High

I try to adjust to the unrelenting rhythm of his cock pushing inside me, and with every bit of my body tingling, I feel it start all over again. I could stop him with a word, and my shaking legs beg me to. But everything hurts deliciously, and feeling him relinquish control is what I’ve craved since the moment he kissed me on that deserted road.

I will lie here and take it until he comes, just like he asked me to. And I will enjoy every minute of it.

“Don’t stop,” I say through gritted teeth. “Show me who I belong to.”

He growls, his cock sinking hard inside me. “Scream, Barbie. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

you’re perfect

Logan

Sweat drips down my cheeks,my arms, my back. My jeans are drenched in Primrose’s cum, and more keeps dripping down her thighs, driving me crazy.

If I weren’t impaling her with my cock, if I had any power to drag myself away from her tight, warm pussy, I’d lick it clean. I’d savor her tangy taste on my tongue and feel her stomach contract under my hand as I stuff my face between her legs.

But I don’t have a hope of moving an inch away until I’ve released inside her cunt.

I rut into her, my pace quickening as I grit my teeth. I lift her leg, and now that she’s all stretched up for me and has come a few times already, her pussy is so slick that I’m on the verge of losing it.

“Drench my cock, little backpack.” I tip my head back as she pulses around me, my balls contracting hard. “Make”—I say as I sink into her—“a fucking”—I grip her ass in my hand and squeeze—“mess.”

She mumbles something, her hands twisting behind her as her ass wiggles with each of my thrusts. She takes it so well, I might never recover.

“You’re doing great.” She’s so tight, so perfectly made for me, that every thrust brings me dangerously close to spilling out, makes me hungry for more.

I see how badly she wants to please me. How she likes to be degraded, not with my words necessarily, but with my actions. She craves to be my little hole to play with however I want, and fuck if it isn’t everything I’ve always dreamt of. Someone to forfeit all control. Someone to trust me completely.

“Hands on the ground,” I say as I pull the scrunchie off her wrists, and her face rises from the dirt. “Come on, quick.”

Her hands unlock from behind her back, and weakly, she holds her weight on her hands, her body shaking.

I grip her hip while keeping one of her legs up, and now that I can pull her to me while I sink inside her, I fuck her twice as fast, twice as hard.

Her shouts fill the silence, and they prompt me to keep going, to make her come again.

“You think they can hear you?” I ask as I try to maintain some semblance of control. “You think everyone knows that you’re getting stuffed with my cock in the orchard? Hmm? That you lose all self-respect when it comes to getting my dick?”

She throws her head back, mewling as another orgasm has her fluttering around me.

It’s the one that brings me over the edge, and I bottom out inside her, my movements turning erratic as she lowers her chest to the ground, no longer able to hold herself up.

“Here it comes, Barbie,” I rumble. Pleasure mounts in the back of my brain and rushes down my spine. I’m going to fill you up so well.”

“Y-yes,” she stutters. I can’t see her face now that her cheek is pressed on the grass again, but a faint “Please, Logan,” rumbles in the space between us.

“Oh, fuck, Primrose.” I push deep into her, moans flying out of my lips as my movements stutter. I release inside her, losing track of time so deeply that once I’m done, my cock slides out nearly limp.

I breathe out, then set her leg back on the ground. The moment her knees are on the grass, she falls to one side, her back rising and falling as she catches her breath.

But a promise is a promise, and I’m hardly done with her.

I grab her legs and spread them so I’m kneeling between her thighs.

Crap, she’s so beautiful.

My jacket falls open beneath her, and her soft, fair skin is covered in grass stains. Her tits and face and knees are rubbed raw, her legs and waist drenched.

What a perfect, dirty little mess.

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