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As my eyes went wide, he took his right hand from the back of my head and ran it down along my back. I shivered, and then when he took hold of my butt I cried out at the mingled pain and arousal. Call pulled his manhood from my mouth, glistening from my saliva, and began to pump it gently up and down again. My eyes went from his face to his penis and back again.
I felt his fingers between my legs, finding all the wetness there, spreading it to my clit. My whole body jerked, trying to push my pussy back into his grasp, desperately submitting to his knowing touch.
“Keep your eyes open,” Cal commanded, his voice stern again. “You want this cock inside you, don’t you, darlin’?”
He reinforced the words with his fingers, so that I understood the threat and the promise he had just made: if I wanted him to claim me with the hard shaft he had in his left hand, I had to look right at it, right at him, as he made me come. I didn’t know why that should make my pussy clench so hard, but it did, and then at last Cal started to work me down there in earnest, and my orgasm came toward me like a freight train.
I screamed, and my eyes went up to his, and down to his hardness, and back to his eyes, and I came harder than I ever had before.
CHAPTER 34
Cal
I had never seen anything as hot as Grace Franklin coming as she looked up at me, face as red as her bottom, eyes wide at the overwhelming pleasure I had brought her with my oh-so-slippery fingertips on her clit and inside her, just a little—just to let her know where my cock would go. Then she did something even sexier, even dirtier: as if her submission had broken free from some dark place deep in her nervous system, she moved her head forward, eyes still on mine with a look of desperation.
She pursed her lips in the unmistakable shape of a kiss, and I couldn’t help the smile that broke out on my own, because I could read her mind: she wanted to show me she had learned—had learned, in particular just now, to thank me properly. I lowered the rigid shaft of my penis, still masturbating her firmly between her thighs to make sure her orgasms kept coming. I let her kiss it, whimpering with the pleasure I gave her as she placed her little pecks on the head, still wet from her obedient mouth.
“Lick it, darlin’,” I growled, and as she put out her tongue I raised my cock again. Grace lapped eagerly up and down, doing her best to repay me with the velvet softness of her tongue along my rock-hard erection.
I felt like my dominant instincts had reached some kind of pinnacle of erotic experience. I gazed into the gorgeous eyes of my future bride while she desperately licked my penis, trying to demonstrate how good a girl she could be. Part of me wanted to delay the consummation we both needed so badly, but the ecstasy her little tongue provided also heightened my arousal so much I started to think I might literally explode with lust.
Grace’s body shuddered with another climax. I didn’t hesitate, though I knew the adorable whine of protest and frustration that would come from my wonderful girl as soon as I took my hand away.
“Oh, no,” she said, turning her pouting face back up to mine, “please… sir… please? Maybe… maybe you can put it in my mouth again?”
I stooped down, the smile on my lips widening even further, and then I kissed her with those smiling lips, though she tried to turn her face away a little, as if ashamed for me to kiss her there after she had pleased my cock with her mouth. I didn’t allow that refusal. I kissed her hard and deep, my right hand fondling her bottom. She whimpered up into my mouth, and she wriggled her backside as if to beg for more attention from my hand.
I broke the kiss.
“Not in your mouth, Grace. You’re going to lose your virginity now.”
Her forehead creased deeply, and she bit her lower lip, looking into my eyes with obvious anxiety. Then she nodded quickly.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered.
Grace
Cal straightened up, his eyes still on mine. My mouth felt different, after having a penis in it, after kissing and licking the penis, after Cal had made me kiss him on the mouth and he had seemed to possess me that way with his tongue as thoroughly as he had with his cock.
I couldn’t believe I had said yes, sir like that. I had meant it, but I would never have thought I could just put it into words—my submission to my future husband’s authority over my body. My whole body. My mouth, my pussy… my bottom.
Cal made it easy, though. I almost laughed at that idea, considering how much my ass still hurt, but then he had walked back around behind me, and I felt his hardness brush against my bottom. I moaned at the reminder of what he had done with his terrible paddle, the paddle that would be an essential part of my life from this point on.
He had trained me to give him pleasure, meting out punishments and rewards with astonishing skill. I didn’t know whether to think of my defloration as one, or the other, or something different. When I felt the head of his manhood rub up and down my pussy, and then find the opening where it belonged, I let out a frightened little cry that seemed to come from all those ideas. Cal was about to teach me my most important lesson in submission. He would train me on his cock, to be a good girl and an obedient bride.
His big, strong hand rubbed my back. Inside me, just inside me, the head of his penis moved up and down, in and out a bit, getting me used to it, to the warm feeling.
“Shh, Grace, darlin’,” he murmured from high above me. I bowed my head between my elbows, resting my forehead in the softness of the comforter. I closed my eyes, and I felt my body yield as if of its own accord entirely. I arched my back a little more and pushed backwards, though it made my face burn with the immodesty of it.
Cal moved his right hand to my shoulder and his left to my hip. I had a moment of tummy-crawling panic, and then I felt his hands tighten their grip and his hips thrust hard. The huge shaft inside me tore through the tender barrier of my virginity. I screamed with the flash of pain, but the scream itself seemed to make it begin to fade almost instantly. I felt the rough denim of Cal’s jeans against my paddled bottom, I felt the fullness of my pussy with my future husband’s rigid penis, and I whimpered softly at the knowledge that he had claimed me as his own.
His to fuck. His to use.
He started to move inside me, pulling his manhood out and then thrusting it in again. My body responded as much as the restraint of Cal’s huge hands allowed. I moved my hips, but I could feel, thrillingly, how completely he meant to control me, so as to enjoy my vagina exactly as he pleased. He would choose the rhythm of his fucking, and he would choose the depth to which he pressed his massive cock inside the sheath nature had made for it between my thighs.
Cal growled in the back of his throat with every deep thrust. I shuddered at the sound. I could tell by sheer animal instinct that it represented pure, aggressive, dominant pleasure. Something about the way it rumbled all the way through his body, so that I could feel it even through the stout fabric that covered his muscular lap, told me he liked fucking me. A lot.
“So tight, Grace, darlin’,” he said, the growl becoming words—dirty words that made me clench around him. “Such a sweet little puss.”
