Page 16 of Dirty Cowboys
He wraps his fist around his shaft, dragging his hand from base to tip while watching me.
I can’t look away. I stay perfectly still, wanting to be a good girl for him.
“You’re just here to watch me come,”he says.“Filthy little cum dumpster.”
I don’t take my eyes off his cock, waiting for him to come. When he does, warm thick spurts land across my face, my lips, and run down my chin.
I moan, licking my lips and tasting him. But he’s not done yet.
In one brutal move, he grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls me to my feet. My scalp burns, but I don’t care. He drags me toward the hay bale, spins me around, and bends me over it like I weigh nothing.
“You want to take me? You better hope they trained you well enough to fucking handle it.”
His palm cracks against my ass.
Again.
And again.
Then lower, across the back of my pussy, which is soaking wet and already sore.
I cry out, arching my back, but my safe word doesn’t even come close to crossing my lips. I want this. I don’t want them to be careful with me.
“You’ll thank me for this,”he states.“Because next time, I won’t hold back.”
I whimper, my knees buckling as hay sticks to my sweat-covered skin.“I don’t want you to hold back,”I whisper.“Break me.”
His hand grips my ass, spreading me wide.“Good girl,”he says, dragging his fingers over my swollen pussy, smearing the mess they left behind.“But you’re still too fucking tight for me.”
He presses the head of his cock against my hole but doesn’t push inside. Then he steps away.“You’ll get there. We’ll make sure of it.”
His hand cracks down again, harder than before, right across my soaked pussy. My back arches in pain, and I scream. He said we’ll get there, and I’m relieved this isn’t over between us. Because I want it, I want all of them. Even the one who hasn’t fucked me yet.
Especially him. Because I think he might be the one to wreck me the most.
Small-Town Confessions - Part Four
Posted by Indie’s Inner Thoughts
Hey,
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
I’m sitting here at 3 a.m., my body wrecked. I can still feel every single touch, every bruise, and every mark they left on me.
Before coming here, I had never been used. Never been treated like a toy, or a plaything; something to be broken in and trained. God, I loved every second.
The way they talked, calling me their little slut, their cum dumpster, their dirty show pony. In the moment, those words made me feel so fucking wanted.
One barely touched me, but still completely owned me. He made me crawl to him, beg, and then didn’t even let me have him.
I’m sore everywhere. My throat is raw, my body is tired, and there are marks on my skin. They will remind me of this night for days to come.
Yet still, I want more. I want to be their perfect little toy again.
Is it wrong that I’m already planning my next nighttime walk? That I’m hoping they’ll be waiting? I think I’m addicted to being their broken little plaything.
Stay spicy (and thoroughly fucked),
