I let her inside, close the door, and the lock clicks like a gunshot. I look at her. There’s fire and a waterfall between my legs, and I can’t stand it anymore. I press her against the wall, my hand grabs her throat by itself — not hard, but firmly, my fingers feel her pulse, fast, lively. I look into her face, and her eyes are big and scared, but she doesn’t push me away.
“You’re mine,— I say, my voice hoarse and low. “Bitch, you’re mine now, you bitch, do you understand?” — The words are tearing out of me, the barriers are crumbling, all the boundaries that have held me for years are falling into the dust. I’m different. The one I’ve always wanted to be—fierce, free, and real. She trembles under my hand, but she doesn’t pull away, and it breaks me completely.
I let go of her throat, take a step back, everything inside is on fire.
“Get on your knees, quick, you bastard,” I order, my voice harsh and hoarse from exertion. She falls to her knees — hurriedly, awkwardly, the dress slips off her shoulders, she pulls it over her head, her hands tangle in the fabric. She’s not wearing panties—like yesterday, she didn’t dare to put them on without my orders. The bra is white, plain, she unbuttons it, her fingers tremble, throws it on the floor. This is the first time I’ve seen her naked. Her breasts are small and beautiful, and her nipples are pink and slightly prominent. The hips are slender, the skin is delicate, pale, almost white in the dim light. She looks up at me through her glasses, her eyes big and scared. Why is she so beautiful?
It’s all mine.
I can do whatever I want with her.
I want to humiliate her, trample her into the mud, use her. To destroy this beauty, this innocence — yes, I am cruel, yes, ruthless, and I like it.
“We’ll see, we’ll see,” I say, my voice low, almost growling. I come closer, take her chin in my hand, raise my head — my fingers squeeze a little, the skin is warm and soft. I run my finger over her lips, and they tremble under my touch.
—Innocence itself,” I say, almost whispering, with mockery. — Well, we’ll fix that. — I touch her breasts, squeeze, then pinch her nipples — abruptly, she flinches, but remains silent.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, looking down at her. I bring two fingers to her mouth, press them to her lips.
—Suck, bitch, suck,” I order, my voice firm, and I shove my fingers into her mouth, feeling her obey.
She sucks my fingers, clumsily but diligently, her lips tremble, her tongue gets tangled, saliva accumulates at the corners of her mouth. I shove deeper, up to her throat, she chokes, coughs, her face contorts — her eyes turn red, her tears shine, and I like it, damn, I like seeing her like this. I can’t take it anymore, I want more, I want everything. I abruptly pull my fingers out of her mouth, slap her in the face — hard, my palm burns, my glasses fly off to the floor, I kick them aside. I immediately hit him again, with my other hand, and his cheek turns red under my fingers.
“Open your mouth, you bastard,” I say, my voice hoarse with anger and desire. She opens her mouth, her lips are shaking, her breathing is ragged. I spit in her mouth, then in her face — saliva runs down her chin, she winces, but is silent.
“She got up with cancer and spread her ass,” I order, and everything inside burns.
Dear readers, if you’ve ever discovered the Marquis de Sade, you know how much he worshipped the anus. Sodomy is the foundation stone for him, and damn it, it’s become mine too. The anal fetish stuck in me tightly — of course, I hardly ever did it myself, for my own reasons, but my fantasies revolved only around it. And the fact that Luda was a virgin was good for me: I didn’t care about her pussy, but her ass was a completely different matter. And here she is in front of me, standing with cancer, face to the floor, spreading her ass with both hands. That pink anus is tight, innocent, and so damn attractive that it takes my breath away. My fingers are still wet, slobbered over by her—the saliva is warm, sticky—and I insert them right into her ass, two at once, firmly, feeling her tense and clench.
Luda is standing with cancer right in the hallway, face to the floor, hands shaking as she spreads her ass. I fuck her ass with two fingers—hard, fast, non-stop. My fingers are slippery with her saliva, they go deep, stretch that tight pink anus, and I feel her shrink, as she resists, but she can’t do anything. Her breath is ragged, short sobs escape her lips, her body is tense — her knees are shaking slightly, her back is arching, her skin glistens with sweat in the dim light of the lamp. I drive my fingers all the way to the knuckles, then pull them out almost completely and stick them in again — the rhythm is fast, merciless. I like it—her weakness, her submission, the way she breaks under me. A few minutes pass, I don’t count, but the heat inside me is building, my heart is pounding, my hands are almost numb from the strain. Finally, I pull out my fingers—they are warm, sticky, and they smell like her body.
—Suck them off,— I order, my voice hoarse and angry. She hesitates, raises her head, her face is red, her eyes are wet, but I don’t wait — I bring my fingers to her mouth, right out of her ass, still hot, with her scent.
—Suck it, you bastard,— I say, and she opens her mouth, hesitantly, lips trembling. I take her by the chin, stick my fingers inside — she chokes, winces, but starts sucking. I see how her lips wrap around my fingers, how saliva runs down her chin, how she forces herself to do it, even though she is fighting with herself. It turns me on even more—her humiliation, her broken look, the fact that she’s mine to the end.
She sucks my fingers awkwardly, with a kind of desperate eagerness, her lips cling to my skin, her breath breaks, her mouth is hot and wet. Her fingers are still sticky and warm, straight out of her ass, and she chokes, coughs, but doesn’t stop—her tongue twitches, her cheeks pull in, her face contorts with effort. I look at her from above, I see how she surrenders, how she submits, and everything inside me burns — I can’t take it anymore, I want more, I want to squeeze everything out of this girl. I grab her by the hair — my fingers dig into the blond strands, pull sharply, she screams, but I don’t let go. I drag her through the apartment with me, my heels tapping on the floor, I almost stumble, but I don’t care — lust leads me forward.
In the room, I throw her to the floor — she falls awkwardly to her knees, naked, confused. I throw off my robe — the silk falls from my shoulders, I remain in stockings and a belt, my skin burns. I kneel on the couch, expose my ass — high, brazenly, I feel the air cool my skin.
—Crawl over, you bastard,” I order, my voice hoarse with anger and desire. I look down at her, grinning.
“You’ve never really kissed, have you, honey?” Come on, kiss my ass,” I say mockingly, and wait, feeling like everything in me is stretched to the limit.
I can feel her tongue touching my hole—warm, moist, timid, it barely slides along the very edge, and an electric shock pierces me. My anus is damn sensitive, right at the entrance, I’ve never put my fingers further than the phalanx myself — just a little bit, carefully, and then her tongue, alive, soft, does something incredible. I grab her by the hair, pulling her closer, harder.
—Go deeper, come on, shove it in, spin it in a circle,” I order, my voice hoarse, trembling with tension. She obeys, her tongue presses a little harder, penetrates inside — a little, but enough to make me suffocate from it. He’s moving there, clumsily but diligently, tracing the edges, and I can feel every millimeter—the heat, the pressure, the wet tremor. It drives me crazy, but it makes me even more mad to think that this girl, so innocent, has never really been kissed, her tongue has never been anywhere but my ass. The first time, and right away I got it, just like that, dirty, for me. This tightens everything inside, the pleasure hits sharply, almost painfully.
I arch up harder, pressing her face against me, not letting her pull away.
—Come on, use your tongue, deeper,” I growl, and she tries, chokes, but doesn’t stop. I can feel her breath hot, ragged, beating against my skin, as she struggles, but does what I want. This is her innocence, her purity — and everything is mine, I take it, use it, and because she is like this, that she is only mine, I almost lose my head.
I’m as excited as I’ve ever been in my life — it’s flowing between my legs, everything is wet, hot, my nipples are standing up, they hurt from tension. I turn to her abruptly, slap her a couple of times — my palm slaps her cheeks, her skin turns red under my fingers, she flinches, but remains silent.
“Well, bitch, do you like ass licking?” — I say, my voice is hoarse, almost breaking. —It’s better than fucking kissing boys, isn’t it, bitch?” — I’m grinning, looking down at her, her face is red, wet with saliva and tears, her eyes are shining.
—Now fuck your pussy,” I order, spreading my legs in front of her, sitting down on the couch, wide, brazenly, everything is open. I look at her, at that red, confused face.
—Come on, bitch, lick it,” I say, my voice firm and angry, and I wait, feeling everything inside me burn, wanting to break her even more.
And finally it happens — Luda bends down, her lips touch me between my legs, her tongue hesitantly slides, touches my clitoris. Oh my God, it’s like an electric shock — the pleasure is sharp, hot, piercing to the spine. Of course, this creature can’t do anything yet, its movements are timid and uncertain, but sexrasskaz.com I don’t care—I want more. I grab her by the hair, grab her blond strands with my fingers, pull sharply — she flinches, but does not stop. I slap her on the cheek, hard, and my palm leaves a red mark. I spit in her face — saliva gets on her nose, runs down to her lips, she winces, but continues. I pinch her nipples, hard, until it hurts, her breasts tighten under my fingers, and she starts trying harder, her tongue moves faster.
She licks me as best she can — back and forth, over my clitoris, clumsily but greedily, saliva mixes with my heat, everything is wet, hot. I can feel every touch — it slides along the edge, then touches the most sensitive point, and I’m shaking from it.