Pleasure
loomed, threatening to transform me. But all I could say was: “Please.”
One hand left my shoulder and moved down my back, dragging a
shudder of need in its wake. In my ass, I felt the pressure of the plug he'd
placed in me increase as he pressed on the base, moving it inside me.
I couldn't take it. Moaning, I squirmed. I felt like my whole
body existed only to squeeze down on his cock. I flexed my inner muscles as he
pressed against the base of the plug, letting it slide over my inner walls. I
knew he could feel it from the other side. I could feel his cock and the plug
reaching for each other as his thrusting picked up pace. My forehead, slippery
with sweat, slid easily over the leather seat. My arms were on fire. My pussy
filled, tightened.
“Fuck me,” I muttered, and I couldn't tell if it was a command
or a curse. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—”
His other hand dipped between my legs and found my clit.
“You are going to come for me,” he whispered fiercely, and I
heard need and desire and something else in his voice, but I was too far gone
to understand what it was. “You are going to come for me in five thrusts.” His
thumb and forefinger went around my clit, and I shivered and writhed as he
pinched me. I wanted to cry. I wanted to die. And all the while his cock pumped
me, plundered me, turned me inside out.
“One,” he said, and thrust. I felt it in my curling toes. His
fingers on my clit began to pump, moving the loose skin over it, as though he
were stroking me off. He withdrew.
“Two.” He thrust again. I felt it in my arching back. He slicked
my clit with my juices, then flicked the tiny, exposed nub. I shrieked. He
withdrew.
“Three.” Another thrust. I felt it in my laboring lungs. His
fingers circled my clit. He pressed the plug into my ass. I couldn't breathe.
He withdrew.
“Four.” He thrust so deeply, I thought I could taste him. My
clit was on fire, a slippery, aching point. My pussy quivered around his cock.
I shut my eyes, and the emptiness in front of me loomed, just beyond my reach.
“Five,” he whispered, and his cock shoved me over the edge with
one last push.
My throat closed around a scream as every muscle in my body
contracted. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from it, and I was
falling, coming, so hard and so violently it was pain. Pain and release. My
pussy clenched around his cock as I bucked wildly beneath him, forced to feel a
terrifying pleasure from which there could be no fleeing.
“Yes,” he hissed, his voice fierce, and in my throes he came,
shooting his load in hot, sticky spurts inside me as his hips twisted and
twitched, out of control. Then he bent and covered my body with his and we both
cried out with the force of our pleasure.
His hands crushed me against him until, after an eternity, the
raging storm seemed to pass us over, leaving us exhausted and marooned, trying
to catch our breath. After a while—I couldn't say how long—he slipped out of
me, his erection softening.
Cum dripped out of my pussy and down my leg, and I groaned as he
slid the anal plug from my ass. Then he undid the bonds holding my arms, his
touch almost tender, and I let the sleeves fall from my arms. Cool air hit my
skin and I breathed a sigh of relief as, at last, I let myself slide down and
sit on the floor of the limo. The vibrations coming up from the road were
almost too much for my hypersensitive flesh, but I found that if I rolled to
one side, letting my hip rest on the floor, that I could endure it without too
much danger of coming again, though the corset bit into my waist and made it
even harder to breathe.
My body was exhausted. My brain was numb. Distantly I wondered
how I was going to get out of the limo, considering my state of dishabille and
the fact that I didn't think I had any other clothes with me. Maybe someone had
kindly packed up the clothes I'd left folded in the dressing room? Sure. Why
not? I'd go with that and hope it was true,
loomed, threatening to transform me. But all I could say was: “Please.”
One hand left my shoulder and moved down my back, dragging a
shudder of need in its wake. In my ass, I felt the pressure of the plug he'd
placed in me increase as he pressed on the base, moving it inside me.
I couldn't take it. Moaning, I squirmed. I felt like my whole
body existed only to squeeze down on his cock. I flexed my inner muscles as he
pressed against the base of the plug, letting it slide over my inner walls. I
knew he could feel it from the other side. I could feel his cock and the plug
reaching for each other as his thrusting picked up pace. My forehead, slippery
with sweat, slid easily over the leather seat. My arms were on fire. My pussy
filled, tightened.
“Fuck me,” I muttered, and I couldn't tell if it was a command
or a curse. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—”
His other hand dipped between my legs and found my clit.
“You are going to come for me,” he whispered fiercely, and I
heard need and desire and something else in his voice, but I was too far gone
to understand what it was. “You are going to come for me in five thrusts.” His
thumb and forefinger went around my clit, and I shivered and writhed as he
pinched me. I wanted to cry. I wanted to die. And all the while his cock pumped
me, plundered me, turned me inside out.
“One,” he said, and thrust. I felt it in my curling toes. His
fingers on my clit began to pump, moving the loose skin over it, as though he
were stroking me off. He withdrew.
“Two.” He thrust again. I felt it in my arching back. He slicked
my clit with my juices, then flicked the tiny, exposed nub. I shrieked. He
withdrew.
“Three.” Another thrust. I felt it in my laboring lungs. His
fingers circled my clit. He pressed the plug into my ass. I couldn't breathe.
He withdrew.
“Four.” He thrust so deeply, I thought I could taste him. My
clit was on fire, a slippery, aching point. My pussy quivered around his cock.
I shut my eyes, and the emptiness in front of me loomed, just beyond my reach.
“Five,” he whispered, and his cock shoved me over the edge with
one last push.
My throat closed around a scream as every muscle in my body
contracted. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from it, and I was
falling, coming, so hard and so violently it was pain. Pain and release. My
pussy clenched around his cock as I bucked wildly beneath him, forced to feel a
terrifying pleasure from which there could be no fleeing.
“Yes,” he hissed, his voice fierce, and in my throes he came,
shooting his load in hot, sticky spurts inside me as his hips twisted and
twitched, out of control. Then he bent and covered my body with his and we both
cried out with the force of our pleasure.
His hands crushed me against him until, after an eternity, the
raging storm seemed to pass us over, leaving us exhausted and marooned, trying
to catch our breath. After a while—I couldn't say how long—he slipped out of
me, his erection softening.
Cum dripped out of my pussy and down my leg, and I groaned as he
slid the anal plug from my ass. Then he undid the bonds holding my arms, his
touch almost tender, and I let the sleeves fall from my arms. Cool air hit my
skin and I breathed a sigh of relief as, at last, I let myself slide down and
sit on the floor of the limo. The vibrations coming up from the road were
almost too much for my hypersensitive flesh, but I found that if I rolled to
one side, letting my hip rest on the floor, that I could endure it without too
much danger of coming again, though the corset bit into my waist and made it
even harder to breathe.
My body was exhausted. My brain was numb. Distantly I wondered
how I was going to get out of the limo, considering my state of dishabille and
the fact that I didn't think I had any other clothes with me. Maybe someone had
kindly packed up the clothes I'd left folded in the dressing room? Sure. Why
not? I'd go with that and hope it was true,
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