Page 18 of Sealed in Ink
“Is this how you want it, baby?” I growl, grabbing her hips and then slipping out. I turn her over quickly. She lies on her frontlike she thinks I’m going to take her like that. “Get on your knees and stick your ass out.”
She looks over her shoulder as she does it. Oh, damn, that creamy ass is phenomenal.
“You know this is wrong, don’t you?” I snarl, feeling drunk on her every reaction. Her cheeks flush, and she nods. “You know you deserve this.”
I bring my hand down on the round, creamy globes of her ass. Outside, lightning strikes. I spank her again, getting rewarded with more trembling and more moaning every single time.
Then I bring my dick to her pussy and glide into her from behind, sinking my hands into her hips, pulling her against me, and watching as her reddened ass bounces against my abs. She moans so sweetly, rocking with me, her pussy just a little more relaxed but still tight enough to caress the seed from my rod.
She starts coming again, squeezing big handfuls of the blanket.
“Should I pull out?” I gasp, but I can’t think. It’s all happening so fast. Her ass is so, so, so hypnotic. I’ve never seen a sight sexier than my dick gliding into her, her white creamy juices coating my thickness, her ass bouncing and red from her punishment.
“Yuh-yes,” she moans.
“Fuck,”I growl at the same time, and it’s too late. A powerful stream of come erupts from me. I glide out of her pussy, rubbing my dick as the rest of the come explodes over her red ass and back. She’s still shaking from the orgasm as it slips down over the redness toward her pussy.
She turns with a guilty smile on her face. Then the smile fades. Panic flutters in her face. Damn, she lookssoyoung here, solost. With the orgasm fading, the famed post-nut syndrome I’ve always heard about, I can clinically and coldly look at what I’ve just done.
I seduced her, used her, and betrayed my friend.
“I need to…” She stands abruptly, covering herself.
“Mary—”
She runs from the room.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
MARY
I run up the stairs, Mom’s voice loud in my head, my privates sore and achy and feeling so damn good.“Yourprivates?”the specter of Mom says.“You were just bent over, letting that man spank you, letting him fuck you like an unmarried, sinful dog, and now you want to think about ‘privates’ as if you have any dignity left?”
I run into my bedroom, slam the door, sit on the floor, and bring my knees to my chest. I can feel his come slipping out of my still-warm core. Not privates. My pussy. My body. It felt so good, like heaven, like a dream come true, when he slid inside, and all the discomfort melted away. Then it was just us—the moment.
I hear footsteps outside my bedroom door.
“Mary.” Rust’s voice sounds more emotional than I’ve ever heard it. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just getting cleaned up,” I call in my brightest, most confident voice.
“What we just did?—”
“I’m just getting cleaned up.”
I don’t mean to yell, but too many emotions are swirling in my head. What if Brad ever found out? I remember sitting at the window, watching them play football in the yard, when I was, what, four, five, six? It would break Brad’s brain. He wouldn’t be able to accept it.
When I hear Rust leave, I quickly dart into the shower and wash myself, thinking of how we’ll have to handle this. When he called mebaby—I shouldn’t let myself think about this with the warm water trickling over my body—everything in me exploded with starlight. I didn’t know pleasure like that existed. It was instant and intense. It was just like what I fantasized about.
Hewas taking responsibility. He said he’d masturbated over me before. Was that just dirty talk? Or has he been touching that huge, hard length as he pictures me rubbing my tits for him? He seemedsoobsessed with my body, too.
I cut off my thoughts, then quickly clean my body, rinse my hair, and leave the shower. The rain has slowed down. I haven’t heard any thunder for a few minutes. It’s like the spell is lifting. We’re no longer closed off from the rest of the world. We have to face reality now.
But I don’t want to let go. I don’t want this to be the end. It has to be. There’s no other route through this. Anyway, this isn’t about what Iwant. It’s about what has to happen.
After drying off, I change into the least sexy outfit possible: a thick bra, a plaid shirt, and some thick jeans. It’s like I’m armoring myself against him. My hair is still wet and tied up like a rat’s tail. When I walk into the living room, I see it in Rust’s face, the change in his posture. He still wants me.
