Page 58 of The Fed Sex Man

I pulled my mouth away from his and sucked a choppy breath.

Mentally prepared to tell him that I wasn’t about to fuck him in the open hallway, I parted my lips. No one word escaped me.

Instead, I simply looked him in the eyes and waited for him to do it.

The pressure increased. My jaw tensed. My eyes widened as he pushed the length of his massive girth into me, inch by inch. Unlike the first time we had sex, the pain was very pleasurable.

The impromptu visit. Grabbing his cock while we stood at my desk. The smell of his cologne. The kiss. Being pressed against the wall. Forcing himself into me. Everything rushed together, consuming me completely. In response, I gripped his face in my hands and kissed him as if it was the last time we’d ever have an opportunity to do it.

With our lips pressed against one another’s and our tongues tangled in a feverish kiss, he began fucking me like he was mad at me.

Every inch of angry dick he shoved into me was welcomed by my warmth. With each powerful thrust, my back slammed against the wall. The impact was marked by carnal grunts that shot from my lungs.

I eagerly accepted each stroke without opposition or complaint. My vaginal canal had somehow conformed to his massive size, leaving the sex nothing short of the most pleasurable event I’d ever had the opportunity to experience.

While I became lost in what was surely the most passionate kiss to ever exist, he fucked me like a man possessed.

It felt so much different than the first time. I’d never imagined sex could feel like heaven, but it was just that, and nothing less. Hovering above the ground in a blissful state of being, I continued to accept all he had to offer until we were both breathless.

He pulled his mouth from mine.

His eyes were filled with energy. I gazed into his magnificent orbs, not knowing what to say, but feeling that I should say something.

“I love fucking you,” he said beneath his breath.

“Thank you,” I said, and then felt like an inexperienced fool for saying it.

With our eyes locked, he pressed me to the wall using nothing more than his hips. Holding me in place with his stiff cock, he slipped his hands under my dress. His fingers quickly found my aching nipples. While he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger, he began to fuck me slowly.

The rhythmic nature of his thrusts combined with the twisting of my nipples brought me to the brink of climax. I tightened around his shaft. He withdrew half his length and paused.

“I want to watch you come,” he breathed.

His expressed desire to watch me reach climax was all it took to push me over the edge. Tension mounted, and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. In one more stroke, I was going to explode.

Before I could respond, he pushed what remained of his cock into me, slowly.

That was it. I was officially done.

“Ohmygod,” I stammered. “It’s happening.”

Upon hearing my declaration, his pace increased. Feeling strangely guilty, I looked him in the eyes. On the heel of one of his thrusts, a tingling sensation ran through me, taking with it my ability to resist any further.

My inner walls contracted around his shaft.

His cock swelled.

In unison, while gazing into each other’s eyes, we reached climax. There was no sound. There were no surroundings. There was Tyson, and there was me. For that period of time, nothing else existed.

I came so hard my entire body shook from the inside out. When the orgasm ended, I was in his arms, still suspended above the floor. After regaining my wits, I glanced toward the front of the store.

Jenny was nowhere in sight

“That was amazing,” I breathed.

He kissed me softly. “We’re not stopping.”

“Stopping what?”

He looked me up and down. “This.” He grinned and lowered me to my feet. “Just wanted to let you know.”

I had my first quasi-assurance of recurring sex. I did a mental fist pump and smiled in return. “I was getting ready to tell you the exact same thing.”