Page 34 of Forbidden Pregnancy
“You came,” I tell her, perhaps assuming too much ignorance, but Myra seems genuinely shocked. She’s twenty-six years old and she’s never cum? I have a hard time believing that, except she seems so genuinely stunned into silence.
“Intense,” she whispers, maybe finishing her sentence or just expressing how my tongue between her legs made her feel. Myra seems ready to squirm away from me again and sensing her desire to escape, I follow my natural urge to keep Myra’s body against mine.
I don’t want this hook up to end. I might not knowwhatI want with Myra, but I know that I want to follow the chemistry exploding between us. I’ve never tasted a pussy quite this good. My fingers brush over Myra’s clit slowly as my anxious desperation to fuck this woman consumes the deepest parts of my soul.
“Let me do more for you,” I whisper after slowly brushing my tongue along Myra’s clit until she moans.
“We can’t,” she says. Okay, there’s some progress. I can’t reason with her squirming out of my grasp, but I can reason with whatever excuse Myra might come up with. I desperately want to get her into bed.
“Why not?” I start arguing with her as my thumb brushes her clit in slow circles. I’m willing to eat her out again if it gets mewhat I want. Myra gasps with pleasure, but remains steadfast that she won’t give me anymore. It’s intensely frustrating to put up with this level of stubbornness.
My dick strains through my pants as Myra’s futile struggle continues. Poor girl. Her pussy juices drip down her thigh and expose just how much she enjoys my touch despite her wriggling away from me.
“Because I’m your employee,” Myra says.
“Technically my father’s employee.”
“Does that make it better?” Myra answers back – far too quickly. She wants this. I can see her raw desire, but there’s something getting in the way of this woman acting on her biological urges. Is this too raw and animalistic for her? To fuck outside against the guest house? I don’t care. I need Myra and I don’t care where she is.
“I want you.”
She freezes, which isn’t what I want.
“Myra, I want you…now.”
Honesty. Passion. She has to respond to that.
Myra’s response makes me instantly tense. “I don’t care.”
I stand up and Myra freezes again. Maybe I’ve had enough of tasting her.
“Turn around and show me your cunt.”
“Excuse me?”
I register the panic on her face, but I don’t want to let it get to me. She’s just a naive and possibly nerdy woman. She won’t misdirect me from my goal.
“I want you, Myra. Now turn around and give me what I want.”
“Is that how life works?” Myra asks me. “You demand what you want and just get it.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not how it works with me.”
“You’re dripping wet. Why are you being so difficult when I just showed you what I can do with my tongue?”
Myra’s eyebrows raise disapprovingly. This impossible woman will make me beg her for a crumb of pussy or worse – push her up against the wall and take what I want…
Chapter Fourteen
Myra
Present
Ifeel safe for the first time in years and I hate myself for how well I sleep now that I’m Michael Corsini’s prisoner. I know the truth – I hate Michael. It doesn’t explain why my body totally relaxes whenever I’m in his presence. His sexual appetite might be partially to blame for my relaxed state. He hijacks my reason with perpetual orgasms and it feels like Michael won’t let me go to bed until I cum each night.
I shouldn’t complain, but it’s impossible for me to think straight or have a clear head at all around this man. I’m just in this peaceful halfway sleepy lull around him while I remain a prisoner at his lake house. Has my life really been that fucked up that Michael Corsini brings me comfort?
