Page 81 of Bronson

But he is.

His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of my hips. He turns me around, bending me over the black leather bench next to him. My knees bury into the carpet. My torso hangs down over the bench. My hands press into the floor, balancing my weight.

He leaves me, kneeling behind me. He pushes my dress as far up my back as it will go. His hands go to my ass cheeks, pulling them apart. I suck in air between my teeth at the burning pain—he’s pulled too far. And he knows it.

His words are a warning. “Don’t move.”

I fear I will climax right then. The cool air kisses my just-licked pussy. The burning, his hands on my ass. I long to press my thighs together and squeeze. To find some kind of pressure, relief.

I choose to obey.

His hands leave me. I hear the unbuckling of his belt. The removal of his suit pants.

I wait.

His hands return, wrapping around my hips. His cock presses against the entrance of my pussy. He plunges within. The tightness, the pressure.

Oh, delight! I lean my head back, not caring as I let out a guttural groan of pleasure. It feels so good to finally have his rock-hard shaft inside of me. I rock back, pressing my ass against him. Taking the full length of his cock into my pussy. My walls clench around him.

I feel full, complete.

He gives another thrust. I’m going to come.

Suddenly, his cock is gone. Slipping from within me. Leaving me wanting, begging, aching.

I want to cry.

My pussy wants to cry.

I hang my head. I lie limp over the bench. Defeated.

But he has not forgotten me. He’s only changing venues.

The head of his cock presses against my tight entrance. I want to protest. But I’m desperate for penetration. Stimulation of any kind. Despite my desire, my unwilling muscles try to lock him out. A swift swat to the rear and his one-word command, relax, has me unclenching my buttocks.

He pushes. The head of his cock presses past my puckering hole, slipping inside of me. I gasp in surprise, shocked, overwhelmed by the strange new sensation.

There’s a stretching, burning.

Pain.

Slowly, the pain becomes pleasure. A warm, relaxed feeling takes over. I press my hips toward him. To accept him further. More of him enters me. I give a sigh.

The feeling is now much like when his fingers or cock find my G-spot. Only more intense. My core winds tighter as he presses harder. As he enters further, the stretching and burning return. Then the pleasure. My ass has accepted almost all of his cock.

“Good, good girl. How does that feel?”

“Amazing,” I shyly admit.

My honesty earns me a chuckle and a pat on the ass. “That’s my girl.”

His fingers reach around my thigh, searching for my clit. I scoot back, giving him easier access. As I move back toward him, his cock goes further into my ass.

I moan with pleasure as his fingertips find my swollen clit. Pressing. Rubbing.

His cock begins to move back and forth, back and forth inside of my ass. His hand is playing with my pussy.

I feel feverish. I’m not sure my knees and hands can hold me as my limbs grow weak. I murmur, “Yes, yes,” as my mind leaves my body. No thoughts, no worries, no fear. Just a delicious melting sensation of pleasure as I ride the edge of the wave of orgasm. My ass is raw, the cheeks of my bottom sore. My clit is bruised from his fingers. And I love it. Somehow it all added up and equals out to be what is becoming the most intense orgasm of my life.