“You’ve been a bitch this week, Roxanne?” he asked.
“I’m afraid so, Maxwell,” she replied, as she steadied herself against his arm.
He wasted little effort pulling her over his lap, where her voluptuous form made his prick quickly rise to its full measure. There was little doubt that she could feel the throbbing member as it pressed against her groin. Roxanne’s short skirt was tight about her thighs. Giving it a tug, he pulled drew it slowly off her ass, seeing the dimpled creamy tan of her naked skin revealed as it rose an inch at a time. The lovely sight gave him some satisfaction, though not as much as he would have once he’d spanked it to a rich red hue. Kneading her flesh for just a moment, he then moved on, striking quickly with a hand, rudely smacking her left ass cheek. Repeated smacks, and Roxanne’s behind was turning pink.
She gasped with these first few, knowing that they were the soft ones, the initial jolts, which would soon give way to harsher, stinging slaps. Her comely behind began to squirm.
“Stay still,” he ordered.
Trying to calm down was not easy, her loins were ablaze, her sexual desire mounting each time the palm of his hand crashed hotly on her skin. With the surface beginning to burn, she knew the flesh would be richly stained by the time he was finished, and her whole body would be in that lovely and nonsensical state of agony and desire. Her juices were already beginning to flow, gathering between her thighs as a sticky liquid, which would ease the path of his erection. Oh, how she loved this!
The slaps grew harder yet, and she squealed ignoring his wishes for quiet. He always demanded silence; but she could never obey that request. Tears began to well inside her eyes, and her heart raged as she became more frantic. He rampaging need for penetration was acute; she was about to cum.
“You little slut,” Max declared as he realized the fire that drove her.
“Ah, yes, love, fuck me,” she begged earnestly.
“Not till I’m finished with you,” he paused long enough to answer.
The blows rained down harder, as hard as his swollen cock beneath her was hard. She could almost tell by the size of his prick when he was ready to throw her off and screw the cum from her. She moved her cunt against him, each rubbing motion making her surge with greater zeal. The two randy lovers struck a fine rhythm: the blows, the pulsing organ, her hot ass, her churning cunt.
Oblivious to all else, they rode the sexual fire to its peak. Then abruptly, in one swift motion, he stopped. Rising to his feet, he held her firmly in his grasp, promptly pushing her against a table piled high with clothes. Spreading her legs, he thrust himself inside her cunt.
He slapped her still, though not as firmly as he had before, or with as much intent to punish. His focus was fixed on his pulsing member pummeling the depths of her channel. He loved the sight her—the red raw globes of flesh rocking lewdly before his eyes. He loved the way she panted, and how she screamed in whimpering and melodic waves of sound. Even though her cries might be heard and their passion discovered by someone passing by the boutique, she was too lost in herself to care.
“Oh, yes, Max, harder. Harder, yes!” she demanded. “Yes, yes yes, yes. . . my love… aughhh… ahhhh…” as she began to cum.
Her cunt tensed around his huge prick, from the head lodged against her cervix, to the wide stalk, which forced the entrance of her vagina open wide. Rearing back as he hung on to her ass cheeks, squeezing, he let the orgasm trigger his first shot of cum.
“Yeeeawwww . . . .” a low roaring growl issued from his raspy throat. And thereafter, he thrust deeply into her cunt, his balls banging against her thighs, his cock surging with one pulse after another, pumping her full of his thick cream.
Max collapsed against her when he finished; and she went limp pressed firmly to the edge of the table over a pile of soft sweaters, which cushioned her bliss-filled ride. Sweat mingling and thighs still locked, his lips drifted to the back of her neck, delicately. Then, he carefully lifted Roxanne from the table, and they regained some sense of calm in the wake of their turbulent fuck.
(c) Tony Ryan, www.beauty-reality.com