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It’s no mean feat. His shaft goes on forever. Before I get to the hot darkness at the base of him, before I can reach the tip of my tongue to his balls and his pubic bone, I feel like I’m swallowing a whole man.
God, though, what a fucking man.
And with one skillful hand, he spins me into orbit.
“Fuck!” he snarls. “Oh, you are so fucking wonderful.”
Fuck. So are you, Carlo.
At this moment, being sold off to the youngest of the three princes doesn’t seem like it would be such a bad thing.
I reach both hands to grip his ass, to pull his hips to me, to get leverage to pull my face down deeper. My wet mouth and my weeping eyes pour streams into his lap, while his brutal hand drives into me, finger-fucking me into one exploding oblivion after another.
I moan and shout, but all the sound is absorbed in wet vibration on his hard length.
His voice is loud enough for both of us, though.
“You are so good. You’re going to kill me.”
I hear a siren and I’m distantly aware of lights flashing red and blue.
I feel him push down harder on the throttle, and the car accelerates.
A huge pulse from the base of his cock rockets up the thickness of his shaft, and a hot blast of thick, creamy cum fills my throat. I keep my nose pressed into darkness at the top of his thigh. A huge rolling wave gathers inside me and holds, high in the air. His cum keeps on pumping into my throat and I can feel the heat of it spilling out around my lips.
He shouts, “Fuck. YES!”
His pelvis rises. Slams him deeper. Reaming my throat.
His hand grips in spasms. “Oh, God. Damn! That is so fucking good.”
The big wave, held, suspended, finally drops. It crashes and bursts, splashes and floods, and I’m gushing into his hand while his salty hot sauce hammers into my neck.
He yells. The siren is louder. I’m sucking and gulping and swallowing down every hot gulp.
The car skids and spins, turning and finally sliding in reverse. I don’t even look up.
Drained, wet-faced, and gasping, wild-eyed, I suck and slurp to try and gobble up the last drops of him, or as much as I can. Sulkily, reluctantly, I haul my face off his fabulous monster of a cock.
His hand strokes my hair so tenderly and his voice is dreamy as he says, “No. I don’t want you to stop, either.” I look up for a glimpse of his devilishly angelic face. With an adoring look, I squeeze him with both hands.
We both know we have something else to think about right now. But I’m certain we both know that this is something we have to come back to.
The car has come to a stop, slewed at a wild angle across the two-lane road, facing the wrong way. In front of us is the full light show of a police cruiser, and a cop has a hand on his belt as he makes his slow, arrogant swagger in our direction.
Like he has all the time in the world, Carlo takes me with a filthy, tender kiss. He strokes my face and his eyes still shine into mine as he steps out of the car.
He tells me, “Stay there.”
I give him a shrug. “I don’t have anywhere much to go.”
He struts toward the cop.
The policeman drops one hand to his gun and holds up the other hand. With a shrug, Carlo raises both hands, palms forward. A gesture of calm and assurance. More like a gentle command than a surrender.
Carlo speaks to the cop. I can’t hear what he says. He reaches for the cop’s shoulder. The young officer shrugs away and steps back, his hand more firmly gripping his weapon. But there’s an uncertain look on his face. And he doesn’t draw the gun.
Carlo says something else. The cop holds up a finger and speaks into the radio on his chest. Then he listens. He looks puzzled as he talks to the radio again. Then he pulls in his lips and his jaw sets as he nods.
