She told me straight up she had a smut allergy. Every filthy word, every explicit scene, every crude description made her cunt swell and drip like she was having some kind of reaction. It wasn't hives or sneezing. It was instant, raging need. Her clit throbbed, her nipples tightened, and she had to get fucked or she'd lose her mind. I didn't believe her at first. Then I tested it.
We were on her couch, lights low, and I pulled up a story on my phone. I read it out loud, slow and nasty. "Her mouth wrapped around his thick cock, tongue swirling over the head while she gagged and drooled." Her breathing changed right away. She shifted, thighs pressing together. By the second paragraph her hand was between her legs, rubbing through her jeans. "Keep going," she said, voice already rough.
I kept reading. The story got dirtier. Anal. Cumshots. Dirty talk.
She yanked her jeans open and shoved two fingers inside herself with a wet sound that filled the room. Her hips rocked. She was soaked, glistening on her fingers every time she pulled them out. "Fuck, it's happening," she gasped. "I need your cock. Now."
I didn't make her wait. I stood, dropped my pants, and fed her my dick. She sucked like she was starving, spit running down her chin, eyes watering while she took me deep. Her allergy was in full swing. She moaned around my shaft, the vibrations making my balls tighten. I grabbed her hair and fucked her face until she pulled off, strings of saliva connecting her lips to my cock.
"Bend over," I told her. She did, ass up, jeans around her knees. I slammed into her from behind. She was burning hot and dripping. Every thrust made her cry out. I read more of the story while I pounded her. "He buried his face in her ass and licked her hole while she begged for more." Her pussy clenched hard around me. She came once, hard, but it wasn't enough. The allergy kept her greedy.
I flipped her onto her back on the floor. Her tits bounced free when I shoved her shirt up. I sucked one nipple, biting just enough to make her arch. Then I pushed back inside her, grinding deep so my pubic bone rubbed her swollen clit. She clawed my back. "More," she demanded. "Tell me something filthy while you fuck me."
I did. I told her exactly how her cunt felt, how it sucked me in, how I was going to fill her up until cum leaked out of her for hours. She came again, legs shaking, mouth open in a silent scream. But her body kept demanding. She pushed me onto my back and climbed on, riding me hard, tits bouncing, sweat shining on her skin. Every time she sank down she ground her clit against me. Her juices coated my balls and thighs.
We moved to the bedroom. I bent her over the dresser and took her ass, slow at first then faster when she pushed back for it. She reached between her legs and rubbed her clit while I stretched her. The filth kept pouring out of my mouth. She came with my cock buried in her ass, ass cheeks flexing, whole body trembling.
By the third round she was a mess. Hair wild, skin marked from my hands and teeth, thighs shiny with her own wetness and my cum. Still she wanted more. The allergy didn't fade until she'd drained me completely, until she was too sore and satisfied to keep going. She collapsed beside me, breathing hard, a lazy smile on her face.
"See?" she said. "Told you. Smut fucks me up every time."
I kissed her shoulder. Already planning what I'd read to her next.
