Hottie (7 page)

Fuck! She was going to come just from the words bouncing around in her head.

“Hold it, Phoebe.”

The warning tone was enough. She nodded emphatically, biting her lip and clenching back the orgasm with great pain.

“Breathe in and out and control your body. Trust me, I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

She nodded again, doing as he said and breathing in and out through her nose. She knew he spoke the truth. He was a masterful lover—her masterful lover.

He positioned her on her hands and knees, facing him, or rather, facing the straining bulge protruding from the denim of his pants. Adding mind-reading to his list of talents, Phoebe licked her lips, her mouth literally watering in anticipation. Before Hottie, she was never one for fellatio, finding it more of a chore she was obligated to complete, but with Hottie, it promised to be different. She wanted to taste him—like he’d tasted her. She wanted to love his body the way he had loved hers, and she wanted to be the cause of his losing control.

The huge bulge didn’t prepare her for the actual sight. She knew he was big, but seeing his rigid cock up close and personal made her wonder if her mouth was large enough to accommodate his size. And her ass, too, for that matter.

Rock hard and erect, Hottie grasped his shaft and rubbed the smooth, hot tip of his penis across her lips, spreading the prelude of his wet excitement across her dry lips like gloss and prompting her to open her mouth. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he tugged enough to show her where he wanted her positioned.

He slid his cock inside a little at a time, as if giving her mouth leeway to adjust for his girth. She moaned as inch by inch slipped past her lips until he was almost at the back of her throat. Once in as far as he could go, he stopped and took a deep breath.

“Fuck, your mouth is hot.”

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, unsure if that was a compliment or a complaint.

He smoothed her hair back as if he knew her question. “It’s feels so good. And you look so fucking sexy, staring up at me with my cock in your mouth.”

Unable to smile, Phoebe slid her tongue along the bottom of his shaft in acknowledgement, and he groaned. His fingers moved to the hair at her nape, and he closed his eyes. Figuring that he liked that a lot, she sucked him in as much as she could and rubbed her tongue along the length of his shaft even more, not stopping until she was forced to swallow the gathering saliva, another act that pulled yet another grunt from him.

Hmm, he tasted rather great. Hot, sweet, salty, his cock was the tastiest of treats.

With a renewed interest, she sucked on him harder, and he shifted, withdrawing from her slightly before pushing his cock back into the vacuum her eager lips created. He did it again. She swirled her tongue when he withdrew the third time, then sucked even harder when he returned. He swore under his breath, pained.

“Fuck, that’s good. You make it hard not to come.”

Slipping him past her lips, her tongue flicked over the tip and she giggled. “Hold it, Master Hottie. I promise it’ll be worth the wait,” she tossed his words back at him, exaggerating the batting of her eyelashes as she glanced at the strained lines of control on his face.

While she loved having that kind of power over him, she took pity and lessened the suction, not wanting to ruin his plans. As she reduced the pressure, he carefully cupped her head and began moving his hips to and fro, steadily building momentum until he was gliding in and out of her mouth at a rhythmic pace.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something?”

Phoebe peered up at him again. Yes, she remembered that she was, indeed, supposed to be doing something. He’d said he was going to fuck her mouth while she fingered herself silly.

With an audible and very intentional pop, she released him.

“I’m going to finger fuck my cunt while you fuck my mouth.”

Dirty, naughty, fucking hot talk. Her awaiting cunt quivered.

She centered one hand to support her weight while she slipped the other one back between her thighs. Taking his length into her mouth, she probed her pussy and found it was already dripping wet. The sheer arousal of having her mechanic there, all hot and bothered and plunging his dick inside her mouth with restrained abandonment, had her body consumed with wanton flames of desire.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Show me how much you enjoy fingering yourself.”

She closed her eyes and moaned around his shaft while her fingers did just as he asked. Loving it when he talked dirty in that silky-smooth tone of his, her heart pounded against her ribs. Her mouth and hand moved in sync to his hips. Hell, she figured she’d do anything he wanted if he asked pretty enough.

“More, sweetheart. I want your pussy sloppy wet and dripping on the bed.”

Her pussy sloppy wet? Phoebe’s need to climax tightened the vaginal muscles around her fingers. She pulled her hand away to be safe.

“Don’t come, but don’t you stop. You get those fingers back inside your cunt. Now.”

Phoebe whined in protest, but returned to finger-fucking herself.

“That’s it, baby. Relax and enjoy it. Show your pussy how much you love it. Stretch it with your fingers. Rub against your clit. Ride your whole hand and show me how much you love sucking my cock.”

His words inspired her to do just that. To show her love. Her gratitude. To be porn-star fabulous and hold nothing back from him other than the climax itself, knowing that when it happened, it would rock her world. He would rock her world.

Pushing on her hand, she fucked and sucked until her lips went numb with the humming vibrations of her intense pleasure. He increased his pace, almost gagging her with his length as he repeatedly hit the back of her throat, but she swallowed and adjusted. She loved it. She loved his cock in her mouth. She loved the wanton way her body was doing just as he wanted—dripping onto the bed. Mouth slavering, eyes tearing, pussy streaming sloppy fucking wet.

“Fuck, you give great head, you know that?” He yanked on her hair, making her face turn up. “You’re so fucking beautiful, so fucking hot.”

She whimpered, barely able to keep the orgasm at bay.

“Not yet, sweetheart. I know you can hold it longer. Keep going.”

The way he said it, with such confidence and care, gave her renewed strength, and she managed to push one more finger into her pussy. Despite the pain of wanting, she held her climax. She so wanted to make him proud.

He pulled his cock from her mouth with an audible pop and kneeled beside the bed. She panted as her fingers pumped in and out of her channel.

“That’s it, baby. Look at how wet you are. You’re doing so good.”

“Please,” she pleaded. “I’m begging you, Sir. I want to come so bad.”

Rather than answer, Hottie moved away from her, out of her line of sight, and she sobbed in frustration, rubbed the hell out of her clit with the heel of her hand, and pumped fervently into her cunt. He had to fuck her. He had to.

Moments later, she felt the mattress dip behind her.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he said, guiding her back. His fingers then joined hers, slipping inside her pussy a couple of time before slipping out, wet and coated with her cream, and penetrating the ring of muscle above. She cried out, pushing into his hand and spilling on hers. He inserted a second Phoebe-cream-coated finger in her ass.

“Please, please, please,” she sobbed. “Please let me come.”

“If it’s what you really want,” he said softly, withdrawing both fingers. “You can come right now.”

But nothing happened. Even with his permission, her body did nothing but continue to throb with a horrible, empty ache that her fingers could not satisfy. Damn him! It was as if her body knew he didn’t mean it. She needed him—his cock—to make her come.

“Do you remember what I said earlier, Phoebe?”

Cool lubricating gel and the soft, but firm press of his penis at her sphincter made her desperate to push back onto him, but the flat of his palm on the small of her back effectively halted her efforts.

“Please.” She sniffled pitifully. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked. “What do you want me to do, sweetheart? I want to hear the words, Phoebe. The how, the when, the where, and the why.”

“God, please, Sir. Please fuck me, right now. Please put your dick in my ass—I need it. I need you. I need you to make me come. And you promised you would. You said you would fuck my mouth and then, before I came, you would fuck my ass.”

“Good. That’s all I wanted to hear.” He removed his hand and flexed his hips, breaching her nether hole.

“Oh, yes, yes, please, thank you.” The slow burn of his cock inching past the ring of muscle served to heighten the pleasure of her thumb strumming her clit while her fingers moved in her pussy. “Yes, yes. I’ve never had a cock in my ass. It hurts so good, Master.”

He was going slow, allowing her time to adjust to his size, but it was too much, too slow. Removing her hand from between her legs, she used both arms to better brace her weight, then relaxed her body and leaned away slightly before leaning back with more force, impaling herself on his hard cock in one smooth glide.

“Naughty, girl,” he murmured. “Your impatience could have hurt you.”

“I’m ready,” she assured. “I want this so much.”

He made a non-committal sound before withdrawing slightly and sliding back in. “Fuck, you’re tight.” But like earlier, with restraint and care, he took his time to reach his paces, making sure it was good for both of them before upping the ante.

“I wish you could see how good my dick looks in your fine ass,” he muttered, plunging in and out of her anus while Phoebe yelped her pleasure, begging him for more, begging him to make her come. “So pink, with tiny red welts from your punishment.”

“Yes, yes,” she screamed. “Please, Sir! Harder! Harder, please! Fuck me hard.”

He stopped, pulled out, flipped her over on her back and forced her legs high and wide, then shoved his cock back inside her ass. She cried out; pain and pleasure mixing with dizzying passion the shorter, but deeper strokes produced.

“I want to see you when you come,” he grunted, riding her ass hard and fucking her pussy with his fingers.

She hissed, circling her clit with one hand as her other hand massaged her breast.

“Pinch your nipples.”

She did, tossing her head and begging him for more.

“The harder you pinch, the harder I push. The more I oblige your request.”

Pain and pleasure mixed. The air grew thin. Phoebe feverishly plucked and pinched her nipples, relishing the sting of the physical intensity and riding its force.

“Now, love, come now,” he commanded with one last, final thrust before bending over her and sucking a nipple between his teeth.

Phoebe screamed. Stars exploded in her vision as an intense rush of pleasure assaulted her. Dizzying waves of ecstasy unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her life melted her into an incoherent puddle of carnal excess. She was cold and blind, hot and suffocating, dizzy from too much air. It was endless, heavenly and hellish all at once, and too much to bear.

Somewhere in the chaos, she felt Hottie withdraw from her ass, but like some evil sex fiend, he continued to stoke the wanton fires of her never-ending orgasms, sucking and plying her nipples and sinking his fingers deep inside her pussy.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Again,” he demanded, setting off another round of climaxes.

When she came down from the experience, she was crying with exhaustion. He hugged her tight, stroking her hair and whispering compliments in her ear until sleep claimed her. Her moments of tranquil peace were quietly interrupted as her lover cleaned her up, verbally expressing worry he’d been too hard on her.

“I’m fine,” she grumbled as he put salve on her sore ass. She reached across the bed and pulled her cami off the nightstand. She put it on. “There. I’m not naked any longer. Leave me alone now. I’m tired. I want a nap.”

“Okay, brat. I’m done. I’ll check on you later.” He chuckled and walked out. “Dinner will be served in two hours.”

Phoebe smiled in the darkness.

Chapter Seven

Hot Free Fall

Wearing her favorite coral-colored tank and a pair of his boxers, Phoebe sashayed down the stairs and into the kitchen, showered and starved for dinner.

“Hey.”

“Hey, to you,” Hottie replied, walking out of the pantry to take her into his arms and kiss her with exaggerated and audible flare. “Feel well?”

“Very well. I think I’m really falling for your fancy tub. I think I could have slept through the night in that sweet baby if it wasn’t for the rumbling from my stomach.” Hooking her thumbs through the belt loops on his jeans, she spread her fingers over his butt. “Usually, I make a man buy me dinner before screwing me silly.”

Grinning, he lowered his hands and also cupped her ass. “You have many men buying you dinner then?”