AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Better?” he rasped and before she could respond, the smack sounded through the room.
“Unh!” she cried, tensing, this time not staggering away. There was something about the hit, about the man trying to hurt her, yet who soothed away the stings at the same time. As his hand landed, he scrunched up the flesh, twisting it ferociously “Oh!” Katie’s eyes widened and she stared at the wall. His hand was twisting her flesh, using her for his own twisted gratification. She blushed at the indignant knowledge that she was affected by his arousal.
He grunted and she bit her lip, her chest tingling as her pussy lips ached to be stretched apart. It was hungry and weeping, its juices sliding down her inner thighs. “I'm giving you a prelude, Katie,” he suddenly rasped in her ear and the warm breath added more to an already raging inferno. She gasped and tensed her ass, pushing it back toward him. He groaned and her pussy squeezed in response. His smack landed on both cheeks together, and she could feel the reverberations of her flesh as the hit left it staggered.
“Oh, God!”
“No!” he roared instantly and smacked her again. Katie’s eyes rolled into the top of her head. “Don’t do that again!” he raged and Katie had no idea what she was forbidden to do. What was so wrong and seemed almost satanic was his apparent worship of her ass. It was twisted and ferocious, and her innate reaction to the almost degrading act was the biggest shocker of all.
He groaned as he rubbed the red, sore throbbing cheeks. Katie wanted to fall to the ground, part her legs and offer her insides to him. She curled up in tempting agony and his hand slipped down her crack, his fingers roughly surveying its effects.
“Fuck!” he grunted and Katie parted her legs. Her thighs tensed as his fingers explored every crevice of her intimate, slick place. His fingers slipped along the slit, then trapped the flesh dangling from its midst. “You're so damn…wet!” he groaned and his finger rubbed her clit, forcefully, expertly, until she arched her back and quivered. She was going to cum. A second more and she was going to cum.
“Oh Oh!” she gasped, her eyes wide, her lips apart, and her ass pushed backward. His hand slipped away, up her crack, leaving wetness in its trail. “Unh!” she grumbled in disappointment as her raging orgasm tensed at the very edge, dying to fall forward but not quite getting there.
He chuckled in her ear. “No! This is not how it goes, Katie. You have to ask, beg for it!”
Her head tilted to the side and the words spilled out of her lips before she could stop them. “How?” she cried and he smiled, his face a hard mask.
He paused, and it was clear from his shocked expression that he wasn’t expecting the question to be asked. Katie was a naïve girl; it was evident in every reaction, every groan that erupted past her lips. Her response was controlled and she was fighting her response to him. His hand pulled away instantly and he backed up, leaving her baffled.
“You kneel, and you beg, Katie,” he said gently. As her face went white as a sheet, Damon’s cock surged to swell some more.
Her reddened, sore ass bared, her trousers scrunched up over her knees, she was a picture of innocence and unaffectedness. The fact that he was attempting to corrupt her, bringing her into his twisted world of self-gratification, did not weigh on his conscience. He wanted her and he was not used to fighting the urge.
Then he left without a second glance at her small round ass and he knew that he had branded her as his. Her ass, imprinted with the shape of his hand was a testimony, and he couldn’t wait for the moment when she would kneel at his feet and beg for him to take her.
He gritted his teeth and his cock ached as he slipped into his discreet Mercedes, and sped away, hating himself for not giving his cock a taste of her wet pussy.
**
Katie curled into a little ball of self-disgust. She pushed her cheek into the pillow, then her nose, then her full face. The memory kept flashing in her mind as if she had been a third person witnessing her mortification and disgrace.
She sought something to blame for her stupidity, for her extreme naiveté in inviting a stranger up to her place. What if he had been a serial killer? What if he had been a rapist?
A blush stained her body, and she tightened her thighs to fight the craving in her loins. Damon Meade had changed her. In the space of a few minutes, she felt like a different woman. She had always been shy and awkward; never the type to flaunt her body or show that she was affected by a man. Her sole sexual relationship three years ago had ended with her feeling cheap and filthy, and she had vowed never to engage in a casual fling.
Her vow was on the verge of being trampled on the ground.
His forcefulness, his way of taking utter and complete charge of her body, of her soul within, had melted her innards.
I've lost my senses!
Her hope for a job had been lost, but in its place was another longing she was trying hard to suppress. She blamed the night of sleeplessness. She had been incoherent. She tried desperately to make sense of her weird and completely inappropriate reaction. There was no way in hell that anything he did to her was tolerable. It was unacceptable. She would not let a man – any man – treat her the way he had treated her.
It had been demeaning.
It had been soul shattering! Her pussy recalled as if it had developed a mind of its own. She moaned into the pillow, aching for the sweet solace of sleep. Once she awoke, she would forget about him. She would overlook how the man had made her feel.
Three hours later she awoke with a jolt. It was noon and she had a splitting headache. It had been a restless few hours of sleep. She had dreamt of nothing but scattered events and random sights, but it was somehow all connected to the incoherent squelching in her pussy, which refused to die down.
Katie had always been impulsive, and she had forever forced herself to fight the very disruptive habit of doing things on the spur of the moment compulsion. They almost always ended badly. The odds of this working out were not in her favor.
She poured a cup of coffee and sat down on the coffee table in the living room. She pursed her lips as the sight returned and she could almost see herself bent over. Damon was dragging the trousers off her body and claiming it for the deviant fantasies he held.
A gasp erupted past her lips and she drove her raging pussy onto the couch. The stimulation was not enough to squelch the fire in her depths. Her eyes fell on the business card laying facedown on the table, and knowing fully how it would end, she flipped it face up.
Damon Meade.
