Page 69 of Resisting the Temptation
I tense.
“Not tonight. I’ll need to take some time stretching you to take me here. But I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”
I want to deny I will, but I’ve played with myself there and have enjoyed it. Still, having Ben’s massive cock inside methereis as daunting as it is enticing.
Ben doesn’t stick his thumb inside me, but he does apply pressure which only increases the pleasure of my impending orgasm as he picks up his pace.
“Yeah, you’ll like it. I’ll make you my good little anal slut in no time. You’ll be begging to have me fill this sweet ass every fucking day before you know it.”
Fuck,I forgot how dirty his mouth can be.
My release isright there,but I need something more to get me over the edge.
“Please, Sir,” I whimper.
“What do you need, honey?”
“I-I don’t know, Sir. Just…more.”
Ben pulls my head up so our bodies are almost flush and reaches around to pinch one of my nipples—still sticky from the honey––while he sinks his teeth into the top of my shoulder.
The angle change and the added pain send me over the edge, and I think I scream as my orgasm overtakes me. My vision goes dark as my release crashes through me with the strength of a freight train.
“That’s it,Dulzura.I knew you had one more in you. Such a good girl for me. Squeezing me so tight. I’m going to fill this pussy, watch me drip out of you.”
He grunts, then hot ropes of his cum paint my pussy. As soon as he releases his hold from around my chest, I flop onto the bed, completely boneless. My brain is swimmy and floaty, and all I want to do is sleep for ten years.
I’m vaguely aware of Ben pulling out of me and walking around the room before returning with a damp cloth to clean between my thighs.
I try to keep my eyes open because I need to get my bearings so I can go home, but they keep closing involuntarily.
Ben picks me up and cradles me to his broad chest, and I hear the crinkle of a water bottle in one of his hands.
“What are you—”
Ben shushes me before I can finish my question. “Relax, honey. I’m taking you to the shower. I can’t have youall sticky in my bed, and you’ve made a mess of these sheets.”
I begin to protest that a shower feels too intimate, but now that I’m no longer high off of orgasms, my skin is starting to stick to itself, and a shower sounds nice.
I also know arguing with him about aftercare would get me nowhere, so I don’t put up a fight as he sets me in the glass encased shower. I really don’t want to wash my hair without my special curly products, but I’m sure there’s honey stuck in the strands.
I just hope he has separate shampoo and conditioner and not a ten-in-one.
His bathroom is black and white with touches of dark green in the décor. There’s no bathtub like the bathroom by the guest room, just a large shower stall.
Ben turns the water on to the right temperature and silently lathers a clean washcloth with his body wash before gently rubbing down my skin, paying extra attention to the parts where he drizzled honey on me.
I wash my hair with his shampoo while he washes my body. His scent permeates the shower, and I already know I’ll have a hard time wanting to shower it off me when I get home.
When that’s done, he directs me under the spray to rinse off. I gently comb some conditioner through my hair before he hands over face wash to scrub away the makeup I was wearing.
I feel exposed. Raw. Vulnerable.
This feels too much like a serious relationship—I’m just glad he didn’t demand to wash my hair for me. That would have beentoointimate.
I’m too tired to deal with it today. I can panic about it tomorrow.
Once Ben has deemed us clean, he helps me out and pats me dry with a fluffy towel before leading me into his bedroom. My eyes are already partially closed when he sits me on the bed and directs me to drink the rest of the water in the water bottle.
