Page 9 of The Sicilian Bastard
She blinked at me, and I smacked her pussy cat again, which made her gasp and arch that slender back in the air, thrusting her succulent breasts in my point of view.
"I'll ask you one more time. Who? The. Fuck. Are. You. Shaving. For?" I slapped both breasts and then her clit. My hand came back wet. She was soaked and I'd bet she wanted me.
"Me! The outfits we wear look better that way," she cried and I smacked her again on the clit.
Judging by the way her body moved on the floor, she was close to coming. Something that surprised me. It surprised her as well because she was trying to fight it. I leaned down and sucked on her clit. She thrust it in the air and tried to rub it in my face. I pulled back and smacked her again, trying to get her to behave. It had the opposite effect.
In a move that could have broken my neck, she wrapped her leg around my neck like it was the pole and spun until she was on top of my face.
"Fuck yes," she cried in victory. Then she ground that sweet honey all over my face as she chased the very orgasm she was fighting off.
Since I was so rough with her, I figured she'd earned one. My hands reached up and locked on her ass, pulling the cheeks apart. I let my tongue press into her hole as I flicked and licked my way to her center.
She humped my face, her cries of ecstasy getting louder as the air I was breathing got shorter. I stuck my finger inside her and added my thumb behind. She hadn't even noticed until I started pulling her asshole open. Her body stilled above my head. She was going to pull away, but she surprised me again by pushing closer. She rubbed herself all over my mouth. I could only smell her. Nothing about her was quiet. She was loud and proud of it. Her back arched and I added a finger to her ass, stretching it to capacity.
If I could speak, I would taunt her with the fact that she'd never had anyone back there. I would let her know that it was mine for the taking. And take it, I fucking would. Roughly. The very thought made me swell up in my pants. Something that hadn't happened to me since I was a prepubescent boy. No fucking way was this chick going to make me embarrass myself in my pants. I didn't care how fucking eerie her eyes were. I'd fucking choke the life out of her if it happened. Leave her on the end of my knife. Those thoughts didn't help my situation. It worsened. Before I could think of baseball cards or someone's grandmother, I came. In my pants. Like a fucking teenager.
The stripper I stole from downstairs was gasping above me. She had found her pleasure as well. I flipped her off me and jumped up, gasping for air from being under her cocoon for too long. She didn't seem to mind. She was lying flat on her back, naked as the day she was born. A light flush had crawled up her chest. Her nipples were still hard, and I'd bet if I reached between her thighs, she would still be pulsating with need. My cock throbbed at the very idea of her still aching. I ran a hand through my red hair and knew that the next thing to do would be to throw some money at her and let her go. If I kept her around, it was only going to get messy. The way my head was, she would die. My compulsions would lead me to it.
Although I hadn't had any real inclination to kill her. Hurt her, yes, but the feeling that she should take her last breath at my hands wasn't there. I looked at her with shock and she flagged her hand in the air.
"So, round two?" Her chirpy voice pierced the air as I looked at her with disbelief.
