Page 157 of The Art of Almost Losing It
I gulp air as he looks down at me.
“Touch yourself.”
I reach down to my pussy.
“Touch your ass too.”
I hesitate.
His hand tightens on my neck, and I reach one hand back, sliding my fingers in the cum and oil there until I can thrust in my hole.
“Yeah, you like that,” he hisses as his fingers pry my jaw open.
His cock slams in my mouth.
I had not really been giving head before because tears leak out of my eyes when that huge cock hits the back of my throat.
I can’t think; I can barely breathe.
I bounce on my hands as he fucks my mouth, taking me deep in the throat.
“You like this? You like being treated like my little prisoner, don’t you?”
I try to mumble “Yes, Daddy” around the huge cock.
I can barely breathe through my nose.
“I’m going to train you into a good little girl,” the deep voice promises me.
I’m about to pass out as he fucks my mouth.
His hips are doing that thrusting thing again; he’s about to come—in my mouth, down my throat.
I panic.
He holds me, pulls out slightly, so all that cum fills my mouth.
I can’t swallow it all.
He grabs my face, closing my mouth and nose with a huge hand.
“No, no. Swallow it. I don’t want you to spit that on my floor. I saidswallow it—that’s my good girl.”
My pussy still aches.
I didn’t come.
I lean back on my knees, trying to do my best sex-kitten impression and pose on the stairs—legs spread, pussy on display for him.
“Do you want my pussy?”
He stares at me for a moment, not moving, long enough that I get uncomfortable.
What am I doing?
This man kidnapped me and used me for sex—really dirty, disgusting sex—on the floor.
My mom would be appalled.
