after what seemed like hours that I was
sure were only minutes, I twisted my hips, hoping his
fingers would slip and find my throbbing nub, but he
stopped moving altogether.
“Do you want me to touch you now?”
“Yes,” I said in a panting breath and noticed the
winning, smirk on his face. I wanted to kick it right off of
him, but I wanted him to touch me more.
He turned his hand, palm side up, and ran his
middle finger from my opening up to my clit. I squirmed
beneath his fingers, and closed my eyes, trying not to
moan. He never slid his fingers inside of me like I was
hoping he would, and focused on my slippery juices,
massaging the slipperiness into my clit. He placed his
thumb on the throbbing sensation, circling it with just the
right amount of pressure. I knew I was going to explode,
and my hips moved with him. I was almost there, so close
to the crest when he slowed his pace and pressure.
“Do you want to come, Morgan?” he asked,
towering over me.
I did want to come, and I wanted to come right that
second. I knew I was going to have to play his game, and
he wasn’t going to do anything without me telling him.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He picked up his speed and pressure again. Just
when I was right there, ready to be relieved, he abruptly
stopped. My eyes opened, and he pulled me up, pushing
me down to kneel in front of him.
“You can come when you learn to listen and watch
your mouth.”
I started to panic again when he undid his belt and
freed himself. He placed the head right on my tightly,
squeezed lips.
“Open your mouth, Morgan.”
“Uh-uh,” I moaned as he moved his head from one
side of my lips to the other, applying his pre-come to my
lips like lipstick. He continued this, enjoying it, I was sure
until he wanted in my mouth.
“Open your mouth, Morgan,” he demanded again,
but I still wasn’t doing it. No way was he was putting that
thing in my mouth.
He brought his hand up and rubbed my already
bruised cheek, and then plugged off my only source of
breathing with his fingers. I still didn’t care. I would pass
out before I opened my mouth for his dick. That only
lasted for about a minute and my survival instincts
betrayed me, causing me to gasp for air. I tried to do it
quickly, but he was faster and shoved himself inside my
mouth with a gratifying moan.
“Oh fuck yeah,” he muttered, sliding in and out of
my mouth. He held my head by the top of my hair and
thrust in and out of me, sometimes causing my gag reflex to
engage. He moved rapidly, and when I felt the pulsating
and knew he was about to come in my mouth, I swiftly
jerked away from him. He continued to stroke himself and
held my nose again.
“Awe, open up, baby,” he moaned, close to
release.
No way, fuck you, dude.
Again, the stupid survival instinct kicked in, and I
was forced to take a breath, allowing him access again,
but this time he held my jaw open with his fingers. He
pulled out again and stroked himself ferociously on my
lips, and just like that he was spewing out, moaning as his
eyes, watched the show. He managed to get his head in
just enough to insure that I did get it in my mouth and then
smeared the rest of it around, moistening my lips with his
come. Every time I tried to push it out of my mouth with
my tongue he used his head and pushed it back. I finally
swallowed what was in my mouth just to get it out.
He picked up the towel that I had around me,
wiped himself off, and put himself away. He tossed me the
towel and I instantly spit into it, wiping as much of him
away as I could. He squatted to me on the floor and ran his
middle finger up my glistening wet folds again and
whispered to my lips.
“You’re not allowed to touch yourself,” he said,
quietly. He dialed a number from the phone by my bed.
“Mrs. Kelley is going to need an icepack,” he said
and left me confused and frustrated.
Rebecca brought me an icepack and whispered
close
sure were only minutes, I twisted my hips, hoping his
fingers would slip and find my throbbing nub, but he
stopped moving altogether.
“Do you want me to touch you now?”
“Yes,” I said in a panting breath and noticed the
winning, smirk on his face. I wanted to kick it right off of
him, but I wanted him to touch me more.
He turned his hand, palm side up, and ran his
middle finger from my opening up to my clit. I squirmed
beneath his fingers, and closed my eyes, trying not to
moan. He never slid his fingers inside of me like I was
hoping he would, and focused on my slippery juices,
massaging the slipperiness into my clit. He placed his
thumb on the throbbing sensation, circling it with just the
right amount of pressure. I knew I was going to explode,
and my hips moved with him. I was almost there, so close
to the crest when he slowed his pace and pressure.
“Do you want to come, Morgan?” he asked,
towering over me.
I did want to come, and I wanted to come right that
second. I knew I was going to have to play his game, and
he wasn’t going to do anything without me telling him.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He picked up his speed and pressure again. Just
when I was right there, ready to be relieved, he abruptly
stopped. My eyes opened, and he pulled me up, pushing
me down to kneel in front of him.
“You can come when you learn to listen and watch
your mouth.”
I started to panic again when he undid his belt and
freed himself. He placed the head right on my tightly,
squeezed lips.
“Open your mouth, Morgan.”
“Uh-uh,” I moaned as he moved his head from one
side of my lips to the other, applying his pre-come to my
lips like lipstick. He continued this, enjoying it, I was sure
until he wanted in my mouth.
“Open your mouth, Morgan,” he demanded again,
but I still wasn’t doing it. No way was he was putting that
thing in my mouth.
He brought his hand up and rubbed my already
bruised cheek, and then plugged off my only source of
breathing with his fingers. I still didn’t care. I would pass
out before I opened my mouth for his dick. That only
lasted for about a minute and my survival instincts
betrayed me, causing me to gasp for air. I tried to do it
quickly, but he was faster and shoved himself inside my
mouth with a gratifying moan.
“Oh fuck yeah,” he muttered, sliding in and out of
my mouth. He held my head by the top of my hair and
thrust in and out of me, sometimes causing my gag reflex to
engage. He moved rapidly, and when I felt the pulsating
and knew he was about to come in my mouth, I swiftly
jerked away from him. He continued to stroke himself and
held my nose again.
“Awe, open up, baby,” he moaned, close to
release.
No way, fuck you, dude.
Again, the stupid survival instinct kicked in, and I
was forced to take a breath, allowing him access again,
but this time he held my jaw open with his fingers. He
pulled out again and stroked himself ferociously on my
lips, and just like that he was spewing out, moaning as his
eyes, watched the show. He managed to get his head in
just enough to insure that I did get it in my mouth and then
smeared the rest of it around, moistening my lips with his
come. Every time I tried to push it out of my mouth with
my tongue he used his head and pushed it back. I finally
swallowed what was in my mouth just to get it out.
He picked up the towel that I had around me,
wiped himself off, and put himself away. He tossed me the
towel and I instantly spit into it, wiping as much of him
away as I could. He squatted to me on the floor and ran his
middle finger up my glistening wet folds again and
whispered to my lips.
“You’re not allowed to touch yourself,” he said,
quietly. He dialed a number from the phone by my bed.
“Mrs. Kelley is going to need an icepack,” he said
and left me confused and frustrated.
Rebecca brought me an icepack and whispered
close
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