Page 41 of The Bet
“That’s my good girl. Taking all of me like that. God, you feel fucking incredible. You were made for this, weren’t you? You were made to be Daddy’s personal slut.”
She’s sobbing a little, but it’s not pain anymore. Her hands grip my arms, and I wait until her whole body relaxes before I move again.
When I do, it’s slow—so slow I’m torturing myself, but she deserves it. Inch by inch, I bury myself inside her, until I’m all the way in, balls deep. Her pussy is so tight, so hot, it’s like being swallowed by a velvet vise.
I start to fuck her, gently at first, then harder as she starts to move with me. Her legs go around my waist, and she lifts her hips, meeting me thrust for thrust.
“God, you’re so hot and wet,” I groan. “So fucking tight. You’re going to ruin me, Andie.”
She whimpers, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” and it’s the green light I’ve been waiting for.
I pick up the pace, fucking her harder, faster, holding her legs wide open so I can watch myself disappear into her vag with every stroke. It’s obscene. She’s so small, and yet she swallows my cock whole, her little pussy clinging to my dick whenever I pull out.
“You have dog,” I rasp.
“Mmnnh?” she sighs, only half-hearing.
“Your cunt is so fucking horny that it sticks to me when I pull out, like it’s begging me not to go. You have a hungry, whore-y cunt baby, that craves dick and needs big cock to be satisfied.”
“Ummmh,” Andie replies, unhearing. Fuck fuck fuck. I’m losing control. There’s a faint line of red where I pull out, a badge of what we’ve done, and I watch the blood mix with her vag juices, painting my cock as I drive back in.
“You’re my little whore now,” I tell her. “No one else will ever fuck you like this. No one else will ever make you feel this way. You hear that, Andie? You’re mine now.”
She arches, her hands clawing at my back, and she comes again, pussy clamping down around me so tight I almost see stars. She screams my name, the sound raw and unfiltered.
“Thomassss!” she cries out. “Ooooooh!”
I lose it then, pounding into her with everything I’ve got. I kiss her, bite her lip, and then roar like a madman as my balls lift, come shoot pulsing. It’s like being hit by a truck. I bury myself to the hilt, spurting reams of hot seed into the beautiful blonde, marking her as mine.
“Fuck!” I roar. “Oh shit shit shit!”
Gallons of semen splash across Andie’s fertile fields, and belatedly, I realize I didn’t ask if she’s on birth control. But the thought disappears from my mind instantly because another orgasm sweeps through my frame, massive blasts of seed coating the beautiful blonde’s interior.
“Fuck!” I shout again. “Goddamn!”
We continue to come, our cries twining in the night as I cram her all the way full. There’s so much seed that it literally oozes out between us, spilling down her ass and staining the sheets. But I don’t give a fuck because this is the woman I was made to fuck, and I’m having the time of my life. Holy shit.
After a few minutes, I finally descend from the Heavens. We lie there for a minute, bodies tangled, sweat cooling on our skin. Her face is tear-streaked, but she’s smiling, and I wipe the tears away with my thumb.
“Are you okay?” I ask, brushing the hair from her face.
She nods, then laughs, the sound pure relief. “I’ve never been better.”
I pull her close, my forehead pressed to hers, and breathe in the scent of her, the taste of her, the feeling of her wrapped around me.
It’s perfect. She’s perfect.
And I’m never letting her go.
We’re a mess:sweat drying on skin, silk sheets stuck to my back, the whole bed smelling of sex and sweat and desire. I hold her against my chest, one hand slow in her hair, the other cupped around her hip. Through the window, the city’s drift is visible: a barge slides past on the black water, its lights moving slow as a second hand. I count her heartbeats, feeling the pulse against my ribs, the way her thigh twitches every time she shifts closer.
I don’t want to move. Ever. The moment feels fragile, like if I blink I’ll wake up back in my empty, echoing condo filled with ghosts.
Andie snuffles, wriggles tighter, and makes a contented sound like a sigh. Her hair is a tangle across my arm, pale as spun gold, her lips slightly parted and red from my teeth.
I stroke her back, tracing patterns over the vertebrae, letting my hand come to rest at the base of her neck. She sighs, then rolls onto her stomach, ass in the air, cheek pressed to my chest. For a second, the urge to go again is overwhelming, but I fight it down.
I don’t say anything for a while. The room is warm, and the city is far away, and I have her, and that’s enough.
