“Fuck me… hard and deep,” I murmur.
He answers me in his mother tongue and I shudder at the implication of the words, at the music he makes with his mouth, even when he’s talking dirty.
I spread my legs wide and he slides his cock deep inside of me once, all the way, until our hips nearly meet. All the way out, and all the way back in, again, again.
“Is that what you needed, baby?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
“Have you been feeling needy, baby?”
He changes the pace, and instead slips just the thick head of his cock in and out of my entrance, over and over again, letting me feel the way he spreads me open each time, leaving my tight channel empty as he teases us both. I am shaking as I moan, back arched, forcing myself not to move, to let him continue the sweet torture. Already my eyes are watering.
“Your pussy feels so good… I love your little cunny, baby,” he growls. “You’re so wet and warm around my cock… I love feeling your tight little body suck me into you… I love feeling you clench around me…”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I whimper. “God… feels so good…” I can barely manage words. The sound of his words, his voice, his praises–I am already at the edge.
“Talk to me, baby,” he groans.
“Please, Daddy… oh… just put your cock inside of me once… all the way, all the way… please… please…”
“You want it all the way?”
He plunges himself back inside, all the way, I can feel the head of him thick and heavy against my cervix.
“Fuck… you’re so good around my cock… so tight… I love your pussy, baby, I love it.”
“You fill me up so good, Daddy… god… just stay there… just stay there, Daddy… don’t move… let me grind my hips up against you,” I beg.
He does. I dig my toes in and grind my hips up, muscles clenching around him, pelvis vibrating in tight, desperate circles. I can feel my girly juices leaking, soaking me, the bed, his cock. I could come right now, and again, and never stop.
“You’re so big,” I whimper, real tears in my eyes now. “You feel so good… I love when you stretch me wide open… when you make it hurt.”
“You want it to hurt, baby?”
“Yes… I want you to bruise my cervix… make my little pussy ache…”
He holds my thighs as wide apart as they’ll go, opening me up, and begins to fuck me brutally, giving me just what I wanted, making me ride the edge of pain and pleasure, making my tears flow down my cheeks, my hands reach to tear into him, into the bed. My back arches sharply, chest heaving, it’s too good… too good.
“Just like that… just like that…” I shudder. The words hiss past my lips.
“Tell me everything.”
“When you’re so deep inside of me…I feel so owned,” I cry out. “So… possessed by you…”
“You are mine,” he grunts.
“I own you… you are mine. Who owns you, baby?”
“You, you… you.”
“Say my name, baby… say it…”
I say his name… not Sir, not Daddy, not Darlink… his name. The moment it leaves my lips I am sobbing, and I can feel the hot spot behind my pelvis rising; I am going to come and I can’t stop. He knows.
“Beg for it.”
“Please let me come, please let me come on your cock, please… please… please…”
“Come on my cock, baby… say my name while you come, please…”
His please sends me flying over the edge. I am screaming his name and my thanks, my body bowed sharply, I reach for him while I writhe and struggle and come and cry. I pull him down to me and hold him to me. I am torn apart inside and out and I need him here, close, or else I’ll lose myself and never come back. He is my anchor and he guides me home.
“Who owns you?” he whispers.
“You,” I shudder. “You… my body is yours…”
His strong arms wrap around me and he pulls me up, repositions us until I am on his lap, his hands holding me upright, his cock buried deep inside of me.
I am fuck-drunk and can barely see straight, tears still streaming down my face. He forces his hips up into mine and I yelp… my body is so tender.
“Am I going to have to rape you?” he whispers and I groan at his words. “Yea? Is that what Daddy’s going to have to do?”
He thrusts up against me, fucking me while I sit on his cock. My hands slide over his shoulders and hold him tightly, I try to steady myself, I cannot think, I’m not sure if I’m breathing. I’m moving. I’m squirming and writhing against him. And then I’m bouncing, forcing my thighs to work.
He’s speaking in his mother tongue again. He’s whispering words of praise. He’s telling me how much he loves my body, how beautiful I am, how good I feel, how good I look. He wants to cum inside of me. He wants to make me his little cream pie, covered in his cum, dripping with it. He’s telling me that I’m his slut, his good little fuck toy. It takes all I have to respond, to speak to him. There are tears again, a reflex from the pleasure, my endorphins firing, my nails digging into his shoulders as I ride him.
He tells me he’s going to cum and I hold him to me as he does, filling me up, my name rolling off of his lips like warm water, my body burns above him. When he is finished, we lay on the bed and I wrap my body around him.
“Feeling good, baby?” he asks.
I can’t do anything but nod. I close my eyes and try to breathe. Soft tears slip down my cheeks, that turn into harder ones. I am crying uncontrollably. He holds me tighter.
“Are you sad?” he asks, slightly panicked.
“I’m not sad, I’m not sad,” I mumble, wiping at my eyes and burying my face in his chest.
He strokes my hair and after a time a quiet and still, breathing deeply wrapped around him.
“I can’t feel my legs,” he mutters, and I chuckle.