Her world began and ended with the need for liquid. Her pussy continued to ooze and spurt, draining her. Her belly clenched, but she was beyond knowing whether it was hunger or deep, tummy-trembling orgasms.
He wouldn’t stop, making her lurch through one orgasm after another. Some were wicked and intense. Some were soft waves. She had never cum so much in her life. She was drained. Dry. Her mouth ached for a sip. She remembered the mouthful he’d spat on her face, her tongue swirled around her lips but all had slid away, lost, absorbed by the sheet below.
He rose, lifted the half-empty glass from the table, and drank. One. Two. Three. She unconsciously counted the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. An upwelling of grief made one lone tear leak from her eye, trickle down to her ear.
He was cruel! Cruel beyond measure. She closed her eyes, turning her head away from him. She wouldn’t look. Wouldn’t give him her hunger or whatever the fuck he wanted from her. Let him deal.
A sharp pinch on her nipple made her open her eyes, anger flashing to the fore. She opened her mouth to yell at him, and he lowered his lips to hers, allowing a trickle of water to fill her with the kiss. It was the barest of kisses, his lips grazing hers, filling her slowly.
She swallowed, and again.
“There, that’s a good girl.” His lips slipped along hers as he spoke softly, tenderly. His fingers caressed the hair at her temples, damp from her sweat.
She nodded, but he slapped her tit instead.
“All done for now, girl.”
“Thanks. You wear it well.”
“My meanness. You take it well, and that’s not a compliment I give many, nor lightly.”
She wasn’t sure how to take that. This was all new to her.
“How are your hands? Your feet? Numb? Tingly?”
She shook her head. She felt fine. Except for her exhausted pussy.
“My…” She couldn’t make herself say the dirty word, though HE had used it several times. Along with that other term.
“Your? I’m not playing guessing games here, slut. Tell me what is hurting you?”
“Your vagina is empty, thus, not painful.”
She blushed. Her eyes dropped and she looked at her nipples. They were enormous, after being tormented with his fingers, his mouth, those damned clothespins.
A slap on her pussy made her gasp.
“I don’t ask twice. Answer me. Now.”
Her voice was a mere whisper in the quiet room.
“Your pussy what?”
“It…it’s been all quivery. Too much vibrations. It’s not used to that.”
Her blush slid down her neck, even to the top of her chest. He paused, admiring the rosy hue.
“Pretty girl. I like you all embarrassed.”
His fingers probed her slit, danced over her clit, slid into her pussyhole.
“Feels pretty good to me. So good that I’m going to stick my cock in there in a minute. I think you won’t notice the…vibrations…then.”
She swallowed hard. He had mentioned fucking. He had. Still, he’d spent a long time, an interminable time, tormenting her pussy, her tits, and embarrassing her. He slid from the bed, and began unbuttoning his shirt. Very well put together, this man; the shirt fit like a glove. Underneath it he wore a tee-shirt, the kind they called a beater, which showed his muscled arms to advantage. Catching her eyes with his, mesmerizing her, he slowly stripped off his pants, his briefs, and stood, only in the tee-shirt, his distended cock rising from a thatch of thick dark hair like a sword.
A fucking big sword. Her last lover’s penis was long, but thin. This man, her neighbor, had a very robust shaft. Thick, long, intimidating.
“That….is not going to fit.”
She wasn’t certain for a moment that she’d actually said that. His eyes widened for a second, then crinkled in a laugh.
“Trust me little girl, I’ll make it fit. Both you cunt and your ass will accommodate me.”
She’d forgotten that he’d promised to fuck her ass. She hadn’t agreed to that.