Drink - Sex Stories

Drink

... Still I couldn’t help but wonder if I stood a chance to get dirty with him; to get a taste of the manhandling roughness he kept teasing me with in his texts. Funny how he never once referred to his cock directly, yet I found myself longing to taste his pulsing meat, to take inch after delicious inch down my throat. More than the acrid tang of skin, I wanted the taste of come in my mouth. “Emily.” He looked annoyed that I had spaced out for a moment. I shook my head in an attempt to clear it of those filthy thoughts. “Is your cock hard yet?” The words tumbled out before I could censor myself. I grinned. The alcohol had really loosened my tongue now. The friendly flicker in his eyes dimmed to hard embers that seemed to assess my sobriety. I gave my upper lip a slow, purposeful lick. A green light. “You know where I’ll be.” And with that, he left me contemplating my next move. My heart thumped madly against my chest, as I tailed him to the washroom. A firm hand wound around my throat before I could adjust to the harsh glare of the white pendaflour light. The click of a lock sealed us inside. “I thought you’d come,” he smirked, fisting fingers in my hair. My scalp throbbed when he ...

... yanked, forcing my gaze into the grimy mirror ahead. I steadied myself against the sink as the hand around my throat let go to peel down my sheer leggings. “You came prepared, didn’t you?” he leered at my panty-less ass. A palm cracked against my left cheek, and I bit down a moan. We came face to face with our stain-smeared reflections as a rough middle finger was introduced into my slick folds, stirring up my arousal to an unbearable degree. “I came to be fucked,” I hissed, shuddering at the sound of my own words. A zipper whirred undone. “Good. Then fucked you will be.” I felt the full length of him on ‘fucked’ and it reduced me to a needy little whore. I whimpered. The next thrust slammed his hips against my bum. “Shit, you’re tight,” he grunted. “Better than I imagined.” I was his undoing the way he was mine. The pounding picked up pace, while I struggled to keep my moans in check. One hand mauled my ass, while the other grabbed my throat like he truly owned me. I felt delirious… I don’t remember coming that hard before. But I definitely recall his demand to kiss him and say, ‘Thank you' afterward. The brute. He left me to get cleaned up while he polished the rest of his drink. xxxx