“Well, what do you wanna do then?” Her thick, ombré lips part for the vape, and she draws on it with a level of disdain and nonchalance in her eyes that makes me feel unwanted, unneeded, and unwelcome. Yet, this is who she is. I don’t think I’ve seen her smile once since we met. It’s not really her ‘thing’. And flashes of the night before—the passion; the fire; the raw vulnerability—remind me what’s hidden below her ‘fuck-you’ exterior.
I’m late for work, but all I can do is walk towards the hateful woman. I pull the vape from her lips and take a long draught of the terrible stuff, wondering if my wife will smell it on my skin later. But that’s the future. I lean down and grip her by her hair, pull her head back so I can see that velvet, young neck. I taste her. A moan slips.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” she whispers in my ear. “You’ll never have enough.”
She’s right. But I grip her painted leg, and decide another course won’t hurt, and I slide up to feel her cock hardening under those tiny silk shorts. This she can’t hide: it gives her away, time and time again; and I know she wants me just as bad, even if she’ll never say it.
I pull the smooth fabric to the side, revealing her fleshy beast. A dragon wraps around it from tip to base—her guardian, I suppose.
I look at her pretty face. She’s smiling! But there’s a smouldering quality to it. Faster than a cobra she spits full force in my face, and laughs like a maniac. “What the f—” I pick her lithe body up and carry her squirming to the bed. I throw her and she bounces, legs and arms flailing, and then I pin her down. She bites hard. “Fuck you!” she shrieks.
She’s free! She crawls across the bed away from me, but I catch her shorts and yank them down past her thighs, revealing that perfect, honey-brown ass, and I hold her hips. My face dives between her cheeks and I taste her from bottom to top: balls, pussy, cute little anus. Another moan escapes without her permission. I reach around and hold her thick stem to make sure she can’t escape, and I stroke it tenderly while my tongue flickers over her puckering ass. She’s never known such affection. “Fuck... you...” she huffs into a cheap pillow.
My hardness slides into her pussy while she holds the sheets and cries out, swearing. My balls press into hers. I grip her arms and pull her torso up and onto mine so I can smell her hair and neck, and so I can feel her tight back against my chest, and so I can tell her my darkest secret: “Today, I want you to fuck me.”
She stops swearing and resisting, and I feel her pussy loosen and relax around me while I sit deep inside her. “What?” she asks. I’m guessing she’s never heard those words.
I pull out. I turn around, facing my ass in the girl’s direction, and I watch as she turns to look at me with wide eyes—which from her is a thing to behold.
The mattress rocks as she shuffles toward me. Her cool skin presses into mine. Her hands quiver ever so slightly as they investigate my back and my sides, possibly unsure of how to proceed. A rock-hard member emerges between my legs and sidles up beside my own; they sit there together while she practices moving her hips against me—the firm pressure of her flank against my body sends tingles through my brain and down my neck. Her wet finger sliding into my anus sends the tingles zinging through every part of my body, lighting it up.
“You sure?” she says. I answer by bending lower, and spreading my cheeks with my hands.
I hear her spit. Her thick cock greets my aching hole, and my dick pounds. I close my eyes. “You ready, little bitch?” She doesn’t wait for a reply. I was already split in half when she said ‘bitch’.
I cry out. Fuck it hurts! She pushes deep, all the way in, and holds herself against me. Her nails dig into my hips so they don’t move forward. “Aaargh!” My breaths are short and sharp. I feel like a pig on a spit. She slides out, and her next thrust doesn’t hurt so much. She changes position: standing, with her feet on either side of my legs; she squats behind me, and then she starts fucking.
I hold onto the bed-head, which is strangely ornate for such a crappy apartment, and a beautiful Asian woman reams me out with a desire I never knew she possessed. Our skin slaps and her hands rain down on my cheeks like divine vengeance from above.
She then reaches around and runs her fingers expertly over my shining, bulbous knob; and I can just hold on. I’ve never felt so open: so helpless, yet free of the burden of making something happen. It just is, and I love it; and she’s right: I’ll never have enough of her. When she fills me with her cum, and it’s dripping down my legs, and when she’s inhaling the last of my seed out of my gracious and spent penis, and I think I could never orgasm again, I’ll know that I still want more; and the more I have, the bigger the cup gets, and it never comes close to the brim.
“Get the fuck outta here.” Her dick droops. It’s slick with her semen. She walks to the other side of the room and picks up her vape; takes a hit. “Well?” She raises her arms sarcastically. Still a kid.
“I’ll see you next week,” I tell her.