Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Her pussy tightened around the metal, sucking it deep when it was all the way inside, and she whimpered so beautifully.
“How does it feel?” I asked her, and she sucked in a breath before she could answer.
“Dirty.”
“It looks dirty, too.”
I eased it out, slowly, positioning myself so I could take full advantage of the sight. The camera light was on, and the bright pinkness of her deep pussy was gorgeous. My cum was there and as obvious as I’d dreamed, thick and white, dribbling from her as I pulled the whisk out to its peak. The effect of the stretch was at its maximum. She was open and wide, her poor tight pussy taking it like a goddess. It was as though she was splayed by a dirty speculum, but this one was more severe as it moved in and out, my hand firm on the handle.
I twisted it as I fucked her, relying on my skill to keep her on the edge. I read her body like a bible, every movement of hers a revelation, and she relaxed, giving in to me, succumbing her body fully to mine. I felt it in her – pure, filthy trust. I saw the reverence in her eyes as she smiled.
She loved being the whore version of herself I’d written on the pages. There was a pride in her that made my heart sing as she lived up to the seedy fantasies I’d laid out in words.
Her pride was all warranted. She was the greatest little angel of a slut that had ever lived. Of that I was sure.
“Good girl, Rosie,” I said to my goddess to reinforce her achievement, and then I used my dirty, hungry tongue as a reward, making her come all over again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Julian
Through clear eyes, I looked at the scene before me. So willing and so filthily raw, with Rosie still bound, wrists to ankles, having given herself over completely to my fantasies. Putting my filthy urges into words had plunged me into another realm, and seeing my needs brought to life in the flesh, had me torn.
The same dilemma always plagued me.
Was I freeing her and letting her explore the true depths of her sexuality, or was I exploiting her curiosity?
Only now, my self-imposed answers were changing, just as she was. Her curiosity didn’t seem exploited in the slightest.
It hadn’t been that long ago that Rosie was a virgin, knowing nothing of sex besides book romances and playing with her clit, but she rubbed her wrists once I’d freed them with not so much as a hint of regret at what had unfolded. She stretched out her legs to ease the stiffness, and she was grinning, still high on the thrill. A minx in the making.
I helped her to her feet, and she followed me through to the bathroom, wincing as she dropped to the toilet. She knew the routine by now, and was comfortable with every part of it. From period blood, to pissing post sex. None of it mattered anymore, she never batted an eyelid.
She spread her legs so I could wipe her pussy clean.
“Is it hurting?” I asked, but she shook her head.
“No, not yet anyway. You always make it feel too good to hurt. I’m sure I could have taken a whole fist, and I’d still have been desperate. You had me going crazy.”
A whole fist. She spoke as though it was an extremity, but it would be anything but in my world. At some point I’d be wanting to ease my whole hand inside that tight little cunt.
She looked right into my eyes, stunning as she sought approval.
“Was I good?”
“Good?” I laughed. “You couldn’t have been any better.”
“Neither could you. Seriously.”
She was heady, riding high.
“I guess it’s the stockings, hey? Do they suit me? You picked well.”
“They look amazing on you.”
She got to her feet when she was done pissing, and gave me a twirl, showing off the fishnets.
“Should I wear them to college with a little tutu? It would give people something to gossip about for real. What do you think?”
What did I think?
Her question hit me like a sickening thump in the gut at the thought of her parading those sweet slutty stockings in public. My jaw tensed as my pretty ballerina did another spin. My words came out unbidden.
“Don’t you even think of wearing those to college.”
She stopped spinning, cracking a grin.
“Like I could. They’d march me straight out the door. They wouldn’t ever want to see me in these, even if I wanted to wear them.”
She was very wrong on that front. My pretty princess still had no idea just how gorgeous she was.
“Oh, they would want to see you, sweetheart, believe me. They’d be chasing you down the street, dicks screaming for your cunt.”
I didn’t recognise the ferocity in my own voice, but I was sharp enough to comprehend its origin.