You Don't Know Me

By: Georgia Le Carre


‘Get on your knees,’ I tell her.

I stand and angle her head so that her neck is arched back. Then, with my fingers tangled in her hair, I guide her head so I slide back in. I push my cock all the way to the back of her throat, slightly further than before. Her eyes widen with panic, but I hold her head there, and obediently she remains. I enjoy the moment of total control. Of having Tasha Evanoff’s mouth at the end of my cock.

Pre-cum must have touched her throat because she swallows. I pull out, and I watch her take a deep breath and I know I can’t last much longer. I want my sperm in her throat and in her belly. I pull her face against my throbbing cock as it clenches and tightens. Then I am gone, spurting hot cum down her throat. Spurting and spurting and watching her swallow it all. Every last fiery drop.

I made Tasha Evanoff drink my cum.

I look down at her, her eyes wide, her succulent mouth gently sucking the last drops of cum from my dick. The tension leaves my body. I made her submit to me. A woman who will continue to suck your cock after you have come inside her mouth is a woman who belongs to you.

I pull out of her and, grasping her by the upper arms, pull her onto the bed. She stares up at me while I start worshiping her body the way I have never done another woman. She is pure woman. Pure ecstasy. Her taste and the strong sweet smell of her arousal make my mouth water. I lick and suck, nibble, bite and stroke every inch of her. I suck her pink nipples until they swell to almost twice their size. The more she begs me to enter her, the more I torment her.

‘Take me,’ she begs lewdly, spreading her legs and showing me her engorged, shining pussy. I lift my head to enjoy the sight. Her whole body spasmodically jerking, hot, wet, and surrounded by her halo of gorgeous hair.

‘Please,’ she begs pitifully.

‘Fuck me, Noah. Fuck me.’ Her hips thrust helplessly at thin air. It gives me a cheap thrill to hear her use the word fuck.

‘Say fuck my cunt,’ I order.

She doesn’t hesitate. She is too far gone. ‘Fuck my cunt,’ she cries.

‘Please ... Noah … please.’

But I carry on tormenting her until her hips are jerking and her thighs trembling uncontrollably. Then I stop.

‘Now you may have your release, but you’ll have to work for it yourself,’ I tell her as I lie on my back. I let my eyes roam her body. Covered in saliva and aching to be filled with my cock, she crawls towards me and swings one leg over me.

‘Stop,’ I demand, and she freezes, her pussy garishly gaping open and glistening, her face contorted with frustration.

I commit to memory the dirty image of Tasha, no longer a Princess, but horny, slutty, her leg cocked over my dick, and out-of-control sexy.

‘What?’ she groans.

‘Now,’ I tell her.

She immediately impales herself on my meat until I’m completely buried in her tight pussy. Mewling and squirming with relief and pure sensuality, she rotates her hips and grinds her pussy on my pubes. Her eyes are closed and I see the bliss on her face.

When she starts rocking back and forth, I gather her close to me and suck on her puffy, reddened nipples. When she utters a low cry of pain and pleasure, I begin to suck voraciously at the enlarged tips. As I bite down on one, I thrust the fingers of my other hand between her lips, forcing her to suck her own juices.

‘Bounce on my cock,’ I growl.

She tightens her pussy muscles and lifts herself upwards two or three inches, but my hands on her hips pulls all but my cockhead clear out of her, followed immediately by my cock slamming back inside her.

‘Talk dirty to me.’

She licks her lips and looks at me with half-hooded eyes. ‘I’m a dirty slut. Give it to me hard and fast!’

‘Fuck yeah.’

‘I want you to put your big cock in my mouth and let me suck it until you fill my belly with your cum.’

Of course, she would have to be a fucking natural at this too.

‘Not just my mouth. I can’t wait for you to fill every hole in my body with your hot cum.’

She keeps at it, and I start to slam harder and harder into her sweet cunt until we slam right into the hurricane of our climaxes.





Seven


Tasha Evanoff

‘Are you hungry?’ he asks.

Top Books