other leg throwing you onto your back," he promised through clenched teeth, his voice a husky whisper. A thrilled shiver ran through Cara as she felt Simon's finger tug the seam of her underwear aside to allow him access. She lowered herself down, feeling the slick dome of his erection plunge inside of her. She cried out as she was penetrated, her voice echoing in the cavernous room. Anyone who happened upon them in that moment would have been treated to the sight of a half-naked college student impaling herself on the rigid cock of the landowner.
Simon seemed to be sharing her debased line of thinking. "You're so loud, Cara," he gritted through his teeth, clearly struggling to speak through the wave of intense pleasure their union inspired. "You're lucky there's no one living close by. If anyone happened by, they would surely hear you. What would the neighbors think?"
"I don't care," she gasped back to him. It wasn't her most brilliant moment, but it was difficult to remember how to form words when her sole focus was on how Simon filled her utterly. She moved with him inside her experimentally, and moaned when she was scarcely given the leniency to do so. Were she not so aroused already, she was certain that taking Simon into her like this would have been too much for her.
"Is it big, Cara?" he murmured with affected curiosity. She shuddered at the profound filthiness of his question. "How big is it? Does it fill you? Do I fill you?"
"Fuck you," she moaned. His words were agonizing. All they did was call attention to the truth: Simon was the biggest she had ever encountered. After last night, she had found herself awake that morning and immediately craving that feeling of deep completion he awoke inside her. It was maddening even without his teasing and coaxing her.
"I'd hate to put you out of a job," Simon whispered into her ear. Cara rolled her hips and thrust herself down against him, and was rewarded when she felt the man's grip on her tighten reflexively. He shuddered, and when his lips parted, she lowered her mouth down to join with his. Her tongue slid past her lips to tangle with his own as she rode him, her repeated thrusts guided by his hands and by pure, primitive instinct. The pounding of the rain outside and the smell of grass, dirt, and slick rock drove her to seek release, as did the heady noises of the man pinned beneath her.
She felt his hand climb her back, palm pressing the indent of her actively tensing muscles, and his fingers freed the catch of her bra. The fabric fell away, revealing a pert pair of breasts fast tightening from contact with the cold. Cara felt the warm, wet press of his mouth as he covered the hardened peak of one nipple. His tongue flicked the pebbled flesh, and she gasped wildly. His hands forced her to keep a controlled pace, but she couldn't help it—the attentions of his mouth inspired her to speed up, to take him into her harder and faster until she felt as if they were galloping at breakneck speed toward the finish line. Simon's deeper moans echoed with her own as she called out, wordless and frantic, for the building pressure to release and send her hurtling over the brink.
Simon thrust up into her, hard, and Cara called out his name as she came in his lap. She was beyond caring about whether or not he would take her last words before climax as a victory. She was, in that moment, wholly concerned with rocking herself against his turgid member and letting it plumb her most pleasurable reaches; every swirl of her hips brought her another white-hot thrill of pleasure, until she thought she couldn't possibly take any more.
The Englishman bucked up beneath her again, and Simon came with an oath that Cara belatedly recognized as her own name. She felt the hot jet of his seed fill her, and
Simon seemed to be sharing her debased line of thinking. "You're so loud, Cara," he gritted through his teeth, clearly struggling to speak through the wave of intense pleasure their union inspired. "You're lucky there's no one living close by. If anyone happened by, they would surely hear you. What would the neighbors think?"
"I don't care," she gasped back to him. It wasn't her most brilliant moment, but it was difficult to remember how to form words when her sole focus was on how Simon filled her utterly. She moved with him inside her experimentally, and moaned when she was scarcely given the leniency to do so. Were she not so aroused already, she was certain that taking Simon into her like this would have been too much for her.
"Is it big, Cara?" he murmured with affected curiosity. She shuddered at the profound filthiness of his question. "How big is it? Does it fill you? Do I fill you?"
"Fuck you," she moaned. His words were agonizing. All they did was call attention to the truth: Simon was the biggest she had ever encountered. After last night, she had found herself awake that morning and immediately craving that feeling of deep completion he awoke inside her. It was maddening even without his teasing and coaxing her.
"I'd hate to put you out of a job," Simon whispered into her ear. Cara rolled her hips and thrust herself down against him, and was rewarded when she felt the man's grip on her tighten reflexively. He shuddered, and when his lips parted, she lowered her mouth down to join with his. Her tongue slid past her lips to tangle with his own as she rode him, her repeated thrusts guided by his hands and by pure, primitive instinct. The pounding of the rain outside and the smell of grass, dirt, and slick rock drove her to seek release, as did the heady noises of the man pinned beneath her.
She felt his hand climb her back, palm pressing the indent of her actively tensing muscles, and his fingers freed the catch of her bra. The fabric fell away, revealing a pert pair of breasts fast tightening from contact with the cold. Cara felt the warm, wet press of his mouth as he covered the hardened peak of one nipple. His tongue flicked the pebbled flesh, and she gasped wildly. His hands forced her to keep a controlled pace, but she couldn't help it—the attentions of his mouth inspired her to speed up, to take him into her harder and faster until she felt as if they were galloping at breakneck speed toward the finish line. Simon's deeper moans echoed with her own as she called out, wordless and frantic, for the building pressure to release and send her hurtling over the brink.
Simon thrust up into her, hard, and Cara called out his name as she came in his lap. She was beyond caring about whether or not he would take her last words before climax as a victory. She was, in that moment, wholly concerned with rocking herself against his turgid member and letting it plumb her most pleasurable reaches; every swirl of her hips brought her another white-hot thrill of pleasure, until she thought she couldn't possibly take any more.
The Englishman bucked up beneath her again, and Simon came with an oath that Cara belatedly recognized as her own name. She felt the hot jet of his seed fill her, and
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