Page 58 of Dock

Two little words somehow lure me into slamming my ass down seemingly faster and faster and faster.

Needier.

Greedier.

Juices sloppily mix with sweat and get swiped across my ass during a smack, a smack that ignites a deeper whimper, and that deeper whimper results in H slipping his tongue into my mouth.

Whirling it around.

Owning the space while his cock continuously rips me in two on every plunge yet stiches me back together on every swat.

Ceaseless spins between my upper lips suddenly become mimicked by my lower leading to a clumsy combination of hip movements that lack direction and method and rhythm and any sort of inkling that I’m less clueless than I clearly am in this department.

The only thing that seems to matter is the bliss I latch onto when he abandons my ass to brazenly brush my clit.

“HolyfuckH,” escapes in a tangled mess of breaths and gnashed teeth, “I…” Coherent words do their best to reveal themselves however shudders callously chop them apart, “Amshebaclosecumbaclob.”

Arrogant chortles accompany additional swipes of his tongue. “Yeah, baby.” Unsure of how to reopen my eyes has them remaining closed leaving me no choice but to physically feel his cocky grin. “You can come again on my cock whenever you’re ready.”

How the hell did he know that’s what I said?!

I barely even know that’s what I said!

Am I speaking in tongues?!

Can I do that?!

Can he understand that?!

“I want you to come,” H wickedly encourages, thumb frenziedly rubbing in reliable circles despite my reckless rocking. “I want you to come so fucking hard.” The word strengthens his pressure. Cuts off my ability to breathe. “I want you to come so fucking hard you forget how to scream.”

My pussy instantly swells in response, agreeing to his terms.

“That you forget how to speak.”

I’m not sure if my muscles tighten before or after his dick thickens.

Warns of his own pending eruption.

“That you forget your own fucking name.”

Against my own volition, both sets of lips quiver.

Plead for mercy.

Sanity.

Satiation.

“Come on my fucking cock, Teach,” he pants, his own thrusts untamed and primitive and desperate. “Give me what’s mine.”

It’s impossible to take so much as another breath without completely falling apart.

White-hot waves overwhelm my entire system, shutting down my ability to think, to remember, to comprehend anything that isn’t the pure, unadulterated, ecstasy running rabid through every vein in my body.

Sweltering pulsations pull and pull and pull, refusing to stop until their starvation has been met.

Until they’ve been fed undeniable proof that he too is satisfied.