Page 34 of Race With The Devil

It was my turn to gasp. Both hands slapped against the rock wall, my knees folded, my head rolled back.

“Oh my fucking God,” she purred. “You’re hung like a fucking martyr. And how’d you get so wet? Did you come inside your briefs?”

“Sort of,” I admitted. When she squeezed my dick, lust rushed from my balls. I knew I’d be ready to come shortly, for real this time. “Don’t do anything that makes you feel bad.”

“I would never,” she said adamantly, lifting my entire prick out of the sopping fabric. “I’ve learned how to fight. Notice how I’m not fighting you. And now that guy’s staring at your big penis.”

Maybe she was trying to take my mind off what she was doing. But I looked at the guy, and he was indeed licking his lips, his eyes honed in on my wang. Pressing my balls to Unity’s mound, it looked like she jacked the shiny, bursting penis of a Siamese twin. The androgyny made me even hotter, and the way her hand looked so tiny, full of my bulging member, turned me on too. This queen of heaven had the talent of filling me with testosterone. My cock had never been this stimulated—my ballsac had never been so full.

Lifting her against the wall with the power of my hips, I bent to slurp at her tit. My climax was so explosive, my load splashing us in the chin.

I froze into a statue as she had, ecstatic waves of sheer bliss wracking my pelvis, my spine—my brain. Worse, Unity played my game of dirty talk.

“Oh God, that’s good, Tanner. Let go. Let my hand pleasure you. You’re a big juicy stud with a long, fat cock and you’ve got gallons of delicious cum stored up in these big balls of yours.”

With that, she manhandled my balls, hard up against my body. This urged another squirt of jizz that splashed her chest anchor.

Oh Law! This woman was fine as cream gravy and she was coaxing the best orgasm of my life from me.

At first, I didn’t notice what she murmured frantically in my ear. She milked my poor abused dick of its last drops and clung to my neck.

“Tanner, I need you to fuck me. You need to fuck me proper, so I know what a proper fuck is like. Let’s go back to my place, or to your hotel room. I want to be fucked by you.”

Despite all the little dizzying birds swimming around my head, I knew what this was about. Like someone with an addictive personality, she’d just found a new drug, and she was going, shall I say, balls to the wall with it. She was overdosing, going the whole hog, wanting the whole pie.

We needed to slow it down. So I did what any rational man would do.

Detaching myself from her clutches, I stuffed my waning dick into my wet strip of fabric and made a muscular dash for the waterfall.

I cleaved it like Hawkeye, the Long Rifle himself. As the force of the spray against my shoulders urged me abruptly down, I realized I didn’t know what was below the waterfall. Would this be the act of a bold explorer?

Unity Mitford had driven me to irrational acts.