Page 23 of Wreckage of My Life
“Dylan,” I whimper as I try to rub my thighs together, distressed when I am not able to since some of his weight is on top of my legs.
“Fuck,” he grunts. I jump, heart slamming against my ribs, when he grabs the neck of my t-shirt and rips it in the middle and all the way to the bottom. The sound of the material snapping against his powerful pull is so sexy, I feel another wave of wetness in the spot where I need it the most.
He does the same with my cotton panties, and I am done for. This is the best foreplay I’ve ever had in my life since I had sex for the first time at sixteen.
I watch in fascination when he snaps his belt open and pulls it out of the loops. He lifts himself off me just enough to motion for me to turn over. I am getting a little worried, but I follow his silent directive anyway. Sex with Wrecker has been rough but fun so I have no reason to believe tonight will be any different.
“Say my name,” he instructs while sticking an arm under my belly. He makes my butt pop while forcing a hand down on my shoulders. I am stuck, but still turned on, very much so.
“Dylan, I whisper into the bedding.
“Louder,” he growls.
Before I get a chance to do it, I feel a sting on my right buttock, making me arch my back in shock. That’s followed by the touch of his hand gently going over where he hit me with his belt.
“Dylan,” I call his name a little louder than before.
He follows it with another lash of his belt. I wait for his hand to touch me over the spot, but jump about ten feet high when I feel his tongue licking the mark I’m sure he left behind.
“Louder!” He makes me say it over and over again, each time snapping the leather belt a little harder against my bare skin, his tongue getting more creative with its ministrations.
I have never been in a situation like this before. I am in complete and utter shock at how much I love it. Is this normal?
I whimper in distress when he turns me over onto my back. Our erratic breathing fills the room, making my heart beat faster every time I inhale. My buttocks sting, and I am so wet, I feel my juices running down the crack of my butt and soaking into the bedding.
I see that Wrecker, or Dylan now, took his cut, I learned some biker terms, and shirt off. His chest is a complete work of art, my eyes cataloging every single detail of him, muscles, tattoos, everything that is him, hoping that I will remember it all in the years to come. I’m pretty confident in my thinking that I’ll never experience anything close to it ever again.
He doesn’t take his jeans off, only undoes the button and lowers the zipper, his impressive erection pointing right at me. He grabs the condom he must’ve dropped next to us at some point as he was spanking my ass and drops it right in the middle of my chest.
“Put it on.” His voice has no inflection, showing no emotion whatsoever. But I know he wants me. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now. He would’ve just let me go back home without this epic goodbye fuck.
I pick up the square packet and fumble with the wrapper for a bit until I finally have it open. I take the latex out and bring it down to where his beautiful cock is waiting in between us. I place it on the tip, then carefully run my hand down with it until I reach the base. I put my arms up with my hands on each side of my head.
“It’s on,” I whisper. “Dylan.”
Me calling him by his given name does what I was hoping that it would. With an animalistic growl, he picks up the top of my legs, spreading me impossibly wide, then sinks right in.
I am so wet, he slides all the way until I can feel him against my uterus, I swear. There’s a small pinch of pain, and I wince when it happens, but I am too turned on to care.
“Fuck!”
He seems to have that on repeat when he throws my legs over his shoulders, thrusting harder each time. My fingers close on the sheets, squeezing tight, hoping to survive the tsunami of emotions suddenly taking over my brain. It just feels too good.
“Dylan,” I scream louder than ever, and he moves faster yet. “Yes!” I feel it coming, and I don’t want it yet.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” he growls, “you’ll never remember any other man before me. And you’ll feelnothingafter me,” he promises.
My eyes are glued to his face. It is a mask of pure pleasure mixed with pain, and I want to make it all better. I pull against his tight hold until he lets go of my legs, then wrap them around his waist. I lift myself up just enough to catch him by the back of his neck and pull him with me when I fall back on the bed.
With our bodies stuck together from chest to hips, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths, this is the most intimate we’ve ever come close to being this week.
All of a sudden, he pulls away from me. Completely. Meaning, his cock is out of my pussy, and I want to cry. I was so close to coming. So, so close.
“Dylan,” I am ready to beg.
He slides down the bed and shocks me further when his mouth connects with my clit. His lips are wrapped around it, and he starts sucking with such fervor, I can’t think. This is something he hasn’t done to me, and I got the impression he never did it in general.
When he lets go of my clit only to stick his tongue inside my pussy, I am dead.
