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“No, don’t stop. Just tell me. Are you tearing me? Am I bleeding?”
“Yes, I am tearing you. My dick is a red-stained mess. My piercings catch sometimes, but that’s how it goes.” He presses his weight on my back. “But you know what? I don’t give a fuck. Blood, shit, piss, cum, sugar… it doesn’t make any difference. You can cake me with whatever you like, I’ll still keep pounding the fuck out of you.”
“And I’ll keep taking it…” I moan. “Pound the fuck out of me, I don’t give a shit. Just fucking fuck me!”
He’s so rough and so damn brutal with his thrusts, but slowly – slowly – my ass gets used to him. The burn eases off as I relax into the stretch, and the sensation of his barbells has my nerves jangling – each one a sharp little burst of pleasure amidst the slams. I start moaning to a different tune, because he’s got me. His beautiful dick has broken me to his will.
I dare to clench around his cock, just a little. Oww, yes!
I dare to push back at him, working to his rhythm as his balls slap my pussy, and I clench harder, getting braver. My ass clings on to every one of his piercings, fighting both the invasion and the pull back – just like I did with my pussy.
“Shit,” he says, and I hear the tremor of a climax brewing. “Your ass is going to be a true wreck if you do that. Go steady.”
His words make me glow with pride. I don’t want to go steady. Not ever.
“You’re going to come in my dirty, wrecked asshole, aren’t you? Go on, Josh. Do it. Come in my filthy ass. I want to feel your cum dripping out of my gaping fucking hole. Because that’s what you’re going to leave behind, isn’t it? You’re going to leave me gaping. You’re going to leave me used up like the filthy little cum slut I am.”
His thrusts turn frantic, driving harder, and I smile to myself. I’m going to milk the hardcorer dry, and there’s nothing he can do to stop me.
He’s as out of his head as I am, both of us verging on dirty insanity.
Josh shoots his load with a string of curses, and it spurs me over the edge myself, rubbing my clit with my fingers as my ass becomes a squelching mess. We’re a combination of pumping action as we grunt and groan, and then, when we’re finally done coming, he collapses on top of me, his dick still inside me. His breaths are as fast as mine.
“Get ready for it, Ella. Brace yourself,” he says.
My God, how I cry out when he pulls out – it hurts that bad – but it doesn’t matter. I’m grinning with the achievement, revelling in the thought of what lies ahead. Because this is only just the beginning for us – in at the dirty deep end.
There’s a whole load more tit for tat left to come.
Chapter Eight
“Damn,” I say, noticing the filthy wet patch on the neon green streak on his rug. “What a naughty guest I am.”
Josh smirks. “Welcome to Belgravia. We’ll do the same in your place as soon as you get the keys.”
I hitch myself up with a grimace, running my fingers between my ass cheeks to investigate the full extent of the carnage. Hmm. I’m a bit of a mess. His barbells got me good.
I look up at him, and he’s examining his cock, but he isn’t in the slightest bit fazed by the state of it.
“We’d better get you to the bathroom,” he says, “Don’t move. I’ll help you up.”
“It’s ok,” I tell him, “I’m just a little tender.”
“Tender? That’s one word for it.”
“Big girls don’t cry.” I wink. “I’m sure I’ll be ok,” I say and it’s so weird as he laughs. The hardcore is behind us for now, and he’s back to his regular charming, fun self. He’s just ploughed my ass with a Jacob’s ladder so hard that I’m bleeding, and his cock is covered in filth, but now, in a flash, he’s just the same guy he was at the restaurant.
He’s beyond awesome. And so caring, too.
I give him a reassuring grin until I try to get to my feet, crying out as I drop back to the floor. It’s not just my ass that feels like it’s been torn to shreds, my pussy is aching like a bitch, too. I knew it would be painful, but talk about strained muscles. Mine are cramping to fuck.
“Big girls do cry,” Josh says. “Anyone who’s been ploughed that hard and taken it like a filthy trooper can cry all they like.” He steps on over to me. “Right, here we go,” he says, and he handles me so carefully, his hands under my arms as he eases me up from the floor. He switches to my waist when I’m almost standing, holding my weight as I press against his side. Oh my God, I’m going to be shuffling along like a penguin. I try to avoid the penguin shuffle by giving a full step a shot, but Josh holds me back with a woah.
“Don’t rush. Too much, too soon!”
Ha! His words make me grin. If only he knew how many times I’ve thought them.
“I’m going to have to suck it up to get to the bathroom anyway, so I might as well get on with it. I’ll pray to the gods of super-soft toilet roll every step of the way.”
