him out of me, until all that was left was the head of his cock.
Jason didn’t need any further instruction. He pulled all the way out of me, slipped out from under me, leaving me on the bed, stomach to the sheets, back to the air. “You want it rough, baby?” he asked, his voice deep once again, as he took my ass, a cheek in each hand, and started to open me up as if I was a ripe fruit, requiring coring.
“Yes, Jason,” I said quickly, impatient and needing for his dick even though it had only been out of me for a minute.
“You’re going to have to beg for it, then,” he said, and I knew I had my dominant Jason back. As fun as it was to have him as my slave, sometimes, I needed him to take control. He was such a nice guy, I was sure it didn’t come naturally to him, but when Jason unleashed the beast within, I knew that he was capable of bringing me to sheer ecstasy.
“Please, Jason, fuck me,” I said quickly.
“No, say it like you mean it.”
“I do mean it,” I said, but then I let out a yelp, as Jason smacked my ass, hard. I’d talked back to him and he was punishing me, with no ifs, ands, or buts about it...except for the butt he was torturing by not sticking his cock inside its perfect hole.
“Any more questions?” he asked.
I resisted correcting him, telling him that I hadn’t asked a question, and said, “Please, Jason, I’d really like it if you fucked me,” in as sweet a voice as possible. I needed Jason and I wasn’t about to let my mouth deny my loins the ultimate pleasure.
“Sounds like maybe I need to teach your mouth a lesson, baby,” he said, moving his hands up to my waist, and turning me over by force. I didn’t know what to expect: his cock in my mouth? His fingers? Instead, he climbed on top of me and pressed his mouth onto mine, firmly. This was no kiss: this was an act of dominance, as if he was whispering a dirty command into my ears, except conveyed only through delicate fire. Jason was always careful: when he bit, he didn’t draw blood. When he sucked at my neck, he left no permanent bruising. It didn’t mean that he didn’t know how to though, and that with every motion, he made me worry in that all too enticing way.
As Jason nibbled at my lower lip, his hands pressed down hard on my shoulders, massaging my collarbones forcefully, he entered me like a hot knife through warmed butter, and I let out a moan, a moan he swallowed down along with my mouth’s juices, shutting me up with a long and passionate kiss as he kept thrusting in and out of me. He didn’t let go until after my body had, with a mind of its own, driven by lust, forced my legs to wrap around his waist, and when he did, it was only to make me moan louder. Jason kept one hand on my shoulders, the other, moved down to my pleasure center.
“I forgot something important, Becca,” he teased.
“It’s fine, I’ve got an IUD,” I said, confused. He pressed his hand to my mouth to shut me up: not a finger, not two fingers in my mouth, but a hand clapped over my mouth.
“Do you like your martinis shaken...” he started coyly, pulling out of me and then thrusting in, faster and faster, so that my entire body was shaking on the bed, and not just from its own writhing, but from the sheer power that Jason was releasing. If it wasn’t for his hand on my mouth, I’m sure that the screams I let out would have shattered his windows, because he knew how much I loved it when he fucked me this way, when he fucked me instead of making love to me, instead of trying to pleasure me, instead of trying to bring me to some pleasurable plane of existence that laid too much pressure on me. When he just took me, used me, and treated me like his own personal fuck toy, without regard for things like comfort and sensation, that’s when Jason pleased me the most.
He released my mouth, and then leaned in again, whispering into my ear, “...or stirred?” He took the hand that he’d kept tracing around my inner folds
Jason didn’t need any further instruction. He pulled all the way out of me, slipped out from under me, leaving me on the bed, stomach to the sheets, back to the air. “You want it rough, baby?” he asked, his voice deep once again, as he took my ass, a cheek in each hand, and started to open me up as if I was a ripe fruit, requiring coring.
“Yes, Jason,” I said quickly, impatient and needing for his dick even though it had only been out of me for a minute.
“You’re going to have to beg for it, then,” he said, and I knew I had my dominant Jason back. As fun as it was to have him as my slave, sometimes, I needed him to take control. He was such a nice guy, I was sure it didn’t come naturally to him, but when Jason unleashed the beast within, I knew that he was capable of bringing me to sheer ecstasy.
“Please, Jason, fuck me,” I said quickly.
“No, say it like you mean it.”
“I do mean it,” I said, but then I let out a yelp, as Jason smacked my ass, hard. I’d talked back to him and he was punishing me, with no ifs, ands, or buts about it...except for the butt he was torturing by not sticking his cock inside its perfect hole.
“Any more questions?” he asked.
I resisted correcting him, telling him that I hadn’t asked a question, and said, “Please, Jason, I’d really like it if you fucked me,” in as sweet a voice as possible. I needed Jason and I wasn’t about to let my mouth deny my loins the ultimate pleasure.
“Sounds like maybe I need to teach your mouth a lesson, baby,” he said, moving his hands up to my waist, and turning me over by force. I didn’t know what to expect: his cock in my mouth? His fingers? Instead, he climbed on top of me and pressed his mouth onto mine, firmly. This was no kiss: this was an act of dominance, as if he was whispering a dirty command into my ears, except conveyed only through delicate fire. Jason was always careful: when he bit, he didn’t draw blood. When he sucked at my neck, he left no permanent bruising. It didn’t mean that he didn’t know how to though, and that with every motion, he made me worry in that all too enticing way.
As Jason nibbled at my lower lip, his hands pressed down hard on my shoulders, massaging my collarbones forcefully, he entered me like a hot knife through warmed butter, and I let out a moan, a moan he swallowed down along with my mouth’s juices, shutting me up with a long and passionate kiss as he kept thrusting in and out of me. He didn’t let go until after my body had, with a mind of its own, driven by lust, forced my legs to wrap around his waist, and when he did, it was only to make me moan louder. Jason kept one hand on my shoulders, the other, moved down to my pleasure center.
“I forgot something important, Becca,” he teased.
“It’s fine, I’ve got an IUD,” I said, confused. He pressed his hand to my mouth to shut me up: not a finger, not two fingers in my mouth, but a hand clapped over my mouth.
“Do you like your martinis shaken...” he started coyly, pulling out of me and then thrusting in, faster and faster, so that my entire body was shaking on the bed, and not just from its own writhing, but from the sheer power that Jason was releasing. If it wasn’t for his hand on my mouth, I’m sure that the screams I let out would have shattered his windows, because he knew how much I loved it when he fucked me this way, when he fucked me instead of making love to me, instead of trying to pleasure me, instead of trying to bring me to some pleasurable plane of existence that laid too much pressure on me. When he just took me, used me, and treated me like his own personal fuck toy, without regard for things like comfort and sensation, that’s when Jason pleased me the most.
He released my mouth, and then leaned in again, whispering into my ear, “...or stirred?” He took the hand that he’d kept tracing around my inner folds
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