J C Smuts shoved me against the wall the second the door clicked shut. His mouth was on mine hard, tongue pushing in like he owned the place. “Been thinking about this cunt all day,” he muttered, one hand already yanking my skirt up and my panties down in one rough tug. I kicked them off and spread my legs. He dropped to his knees right there in the hallway, buried his face between my thighs and licked me open with long, filthy strokes.
I grabbed his hair and rode his tongue. He groaned into my pussy, sucking my clit while two thick fingers shoved inside me. “So fucking wet already,” he said, voice muffled. He pumped his fingers fast and curled them until I was shaking. My legs started to give out, but he held me up with one arm and kept eating me like he was starving.
We didn’t make it to the bedroom. He stood, spun me around, bent me over the arm of the couch and freed his cock. It slapped heavy against my ass. He rubbed the head up and down my slit once, twice, then drove in deep on the third thrust. I cried out. He was thick and hot and he didn’t give me time to adjust; he just started fucking me like he meant it.
Every stroke slapped skin on skin. His balls hit my clit on the downstroke. One hand fisted my hair, the other reached under to pinch my nipple through my shirt. “Take it,” he growled. “Take every inch.” I pushed back to meet him, greedy for it. The couch creaked. My tits swung. He pulled out, flipped me onto my back on the cushions, and shoved back in even harder.
I came first, clenching around him so tight he cursed. He didn’t stop. He fucked me straight through it, then pulled out, jerked his cock twice and painted my stomach and tits with thick ropes of come. He smeared it across my skin with the head of his dick, breathing hard.
We weren’t done. He dragged me to the bedroom, stripped the rest of our clothes off, and laid me out on the sheets. This time he went slow for a minute, sliding in and out while he watched his cock disappear inside me. Then he hooked my knees over his elbows and folded me in half. The new angle made me see stars. He pounded me until the headboard slammed the wall.
I came again, louder. He followed right after, grinding deep and filling me until it leaked out around his cock. We stayed locked together, sweaty and panting. He kissed me softer then, almost sweet, before pulling out and watching his come drip from me.
J C Smuts ran two fingers through the mess and pushed it back inside. “Round three in the shower,” he said, already hard again. I smiled and followed him.
