The Huntsman's Ball
He didn’t waste a moment. He reached for the bottom of her
tight skirt and hiked it up her hips. He ripped her thong panties off and tossed
them away. Quickly, he took his cock out and then gripped her ass as he lifted
her up, so that she was sitting on the edge of the desk. She wrapped her legs
around him as he plunged into her, and she gasped out loud as he filled her.
Her legs gripped him as he thrust inside her: She couldn’t get him close
enough, even though his thrusts were brutally hard.
“Fuck me hard,” she whispered, “as hard as you can.”
His eyes were glazed as he studied her face. “Are you sure?”
“Mmm, yes, harder,” she said. She wanted nothing else on her
mind or her body. Only him.
He lifted her and helped her to bend over the desk. The desk
was cold against her breasts, but she didn’t mind--her body felt hot and
restless. Now her ass was in the air, and before he slid inside her, he slapped
the side of each soft cheek, making her skin burn like fire. Soon, the fire was
replaced with a warm glow that shot straight to her pussy. She had never been
spanked before, and she found that she loved it. Never had she felt so aroused.
He was making her wait, and since she couldn’t see him, she
didn’t know what he would do next. When he slapped her again, this time near
the center of her ass, she jumped and let out a yelp. Before the burning had a
chance to dissipate, he thrust his cock inside her, and she moaned with relief
and pleasure.
His thrusts were animalistic and wild, and she ground her
ass into him, feeling him deep inside her, filling her up just the way she
wanted.
A few more times, he smacked her ass. Then, his hands
reached under her blouse and bra to pinch her nipples. He pulled and pinched;
he thrust and fucked her, and she could soon feel the blossoming of the orgasm
that her body demanded.
“I’m going to cum,” she said, barely speaking and not even
sure if he had heard her. All of her focus was on that delicate blooming,
lifting her hips so that he hit her just right. He slipped a hand between her
legs and began to encircle her clit--he had heard her!--and soon, the
orgasm burst into a technicolor explosion of pleasure that spread across every
nerve of her body. For a moment he stopped thrusting, letting her float on the
waves of her climax.
He moved his hand away from her clit and began to squeeze
the flesh of her ass, thrusting slowly and deliberately. His pace began to
excite her again, and she pushed against him, longing for him to pound her.
Soon, he did, and when he quickened, she knew he was going to cum.
Just as he moaned and froze in mid-thrust, she felt another
orgasm beginning to grow. A sound escaped from her mouth as she circled her
hips against him. Again, he slipped his hand between her legs and helped her to
cum, and she did. Each orgasm is different from the other, she thought
through a mist of pleasure. Like flowers. Or snowflakes.
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