Page 11 of Gang of Roses: Kash

The pace of his thrust sped up as he stretched my throat. I’d gotten used to him, so it was nothing to take all of him. Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes as he slid in and out, each time being more passionate than the last. Gripping my chin, he tilted my head slightly for a better angle.

“Mhmm, good girl.”

My throat was being abused in the best way possible. A bitch was breathing through her ears at this point. The gentleness was replaced with everything rough, and I refused to stop it. Many couldn’t handle it, but I assured you my pussy was wetter than the ocean from the painful pleasure. The proof was all over my fingers.

From the way he kept throwing his head back, I knew he was ready to drop that first nut off.

“Fuck!” he shouted as he gripped my breast. “A nigga ‘bout to cum, Ma.”

One thing this man allowed me to do was choose where. I pointed to my face, and he nodded aggressively. He was losing himself in me, and I loved to see it. He removed himself and his fluids shot onto my cheeks, chin, and forehead. I appreciated him sparing my eyes. I’d just gotten my lashes done earlier in the evening.

“Stay right there. Let me clean you up,” he chimed.

“Nah, you stay right there and get us both right,” I said stopping him in his tracks.

Flipping over to my stomach, I repositioned myself, then tooted my ass in the air. I knew how he liked it. Missionary was dangerous for us both. We’d established that years ago. Back was arched and pussy was dripping, all he had to do was slide in and call me home again.

You better believe he wasted no time doing so. The box was well lubricated causing him to fill me up with ease. That legendary gasp was exuded as the connection was made.

“Shiiiiiiiiit,” I cried out in a hushed tone. The man could eat pussy and win awards for it, but goddamn his dick game was in a league of its own.

His hold on my hips, the way he was administering strokes, and the sound of my ass clapping on his abdomen had a bitch’s mind gone. I couldn’t focus on shit. It all just felt and sounded so fuckin’ good. I’d been emotionally unstable for quite some time but having him around and in me brought on the right kind of shake back.

With a handful of my hair being gripped tightly, my head fell back as he asked, “Who you been fuckin’ on, Ma?”

“No-Nobody… baby.” My reply was staggered due to how he was knocking against my cervix.

“Oh yeah. Well, who this wet muthafucka belong to then?”

He knew I wasn’t much of a talker, yet he taunted me with questions. All I had for him were two words max. I couldn’t hardly control my breathing, what the fuck made him think I could answer him so easily?

With his free hand reigning down on my ass, he asked once more. “Who it belong to, Mama? Answer me before I fuck yo’ world up for real.”

Too late.

“Ooouuuu, fuck. Youuuuu!” I cried out.

You couldn’t tell me that wasn’t him I felt rearranging shit in my stomach. Mouth gaped open, pussy juices flowing down my thighs, and neck being held hostage… I was in a bliss of pure ecstasy. Our bodies meshed as one perfectly. Imagine finding the right person the first go round.

He was that.

I just hated I couldn’t get over my own fear to make this forever.

Finally releasing me, I fell forward onto the bed while he held onto my hips maintain his groove. His manhood was one to brag about ‘cause it ain’t miss an inch of you when it was inside you. From the way he hit my g-spot to the way his veins rubbed against my walls until they were creamy, he knew who I belonged to.

“Yeah, she ready,” he chuckled, noticing I was on the verge on cummin’ for him once again. “I’m right behind you.”

For the next few strokes, he gave it all he had. I threw ass back and he matched my rhythm. Going at it and doing things that had consequences neither of us could handle. But… neither one of us could stop.

“I’m cumminnnnnnn,” I moaned releasing every ounce of the white creamy substance he was proudly addicted to.

He said nothing as he followed suit giving me another round of his kids. Moments later, he was detaching his body from mine. It was bittersweet, but the longer he stayed inside, the quicker he’d get it back up and we’d be working on round two. I wanted to enjoy him in other ways this visit.

Getting comfortable in bed, I lay my head on his chest as his fingers trailed along my back.

Declan fuckin’ Saint.

God took his time with him. From the smoothness of his chocolate skin to the muscular frame he possessed, the nigga was one you could get lost in daily. I cherished everything about him though. He had no idea how easy it was for me to relax in his presence.