I've Always Been a Nurturer...

"Two weeks ago, you'd have been spurting right now," I husked. My own pussy was creaming my jeans, I knew: the underwear meant to protect them was now in Jared's pocket. "Let's see what you can do tonight, lover." I leaned up, my body already starting to ache with need, and when our lips met there in my own living room, it was magic. He was an excellent kisser, I'd learned, and as he'd grown more used to me he'd only improved. I tasted mint gum and sports drinks, lust and need; his hands crept around to my ass, pulling me close.

And we hadn't even gotten out of the doorway yet.

"Remember," I whispered, my throat feeling like sandpaper, "when you feel like you want to cum? What are you going to do, baby?" He responded with his mouth, trailing down the side of my face, over my neck, kissing me with wet excitement as I felt his hands trying to plunge down the back of my pants. "Yeah. That's it," I urged. "Devour me." My fingers found the snap at the front of my jeans, tearing them impatiently open: he drove them halfway down my thighs as both his hands shot down to grip my naked ass. "Fuck!" I grunted tightly, needing his lips once more, sucking his tongue hard into my mouth.

I felt my pants pool around my ankles, realizing dimly that my Chucks would make it hard to get them off. He was up the back of my shirt now, desperate for the feel of my skin, clawing at my bra strap. He was an animal, sucking at the base of my neck. "Hold it," I whimpered, needing his dick inside me, praying my body wouldn't make him cum too quick. "I need to get my shoes off."

"I need to get my pants off," he groaned, and with that we parted, still feverish; I found myself on my ass on the ground, leaking all over my carpet as my clumsy fingers ripped at the knots on my shoes. Why did I wear high tops? I raged at myself, but above me Jared was having a similar problem: he'd stepped out of his dress shoes, but getting his slacks and briefs down over his swollen dick was taking him some effort.

But he'd learned to persevere.

And still, despite my shoes, I found the time and energy to notice when his dick popped out above me, balls dangling, head shining and ready for my pussy. "Goddamn." It came out in a gaspy rush. "You're so beautiful." He had a new look on his face now when he looked down at me, a ripe woman below him with need in her eyes, wanting nothing but his cum in me.

His penis leapt suddenly, but he held it in; kicking his pants off, he dived over me on the floor, mouth open to suck at me. "Yes!" I yelped, at last getting my shoes off. "I'm your slut, Jared." He'd pushed his face up under my shirt, lips busy at my belly button, and I crooned a feathery moan when he pushed his hand hard against my swollen red pussy, fingers shooting straight into me. "I'm your little fucking whore!"

"Yeah," he grated, his teeth on my skin. I was humping up into his fingers, and as I finally wormed my jeans off I spread my legs wide for him and pulled his oversized football jersey up over his head. "You're so sexy." His voice came out muffled from under my shirt. His hand had learned from the last time, on his narrow bed, and I was already feeling my orgasm build here on my living room floor.

I was caught in a need more intense than I'd ever remembered, a deep female craving for him. I pulled at his hair until his head popped out of my shirt, bleary eyes on mine. "I want to cum from your dick," I blurted, crazed, and then he was nodding as he got his knees in between my flailing legs.

I craned my neck, raising my head to watch his cock reach down for my overheated body. We were both moving already, our hips in rhythm even as his dripping, fat cockhead dipped low for me. I found his eyes once more, in these last moments, my hands harsh on the sides of his head. "Don't hold back, baby," I snarled. "I'm almost there already. Fuck me!"

He glanced down so that he could watch himself enter me for the first time, and my head hit the carpet sharply when, at last, I felt the wet velveteen heat of his head splitting my lips. The sensation only lasted for a moment, though, his hips already in motion, sliding that thick shaft all the way inside my tight pussy. We breathed a gaspy, moaning sigh into each others' mouths, his butt already rising again, pulling out only to thrust back into me.

We rutted hard, frenzied, needy, following what our bodies told us to do, and then his teeth clamped down on my nipple and I knew he was doing what I'd told him: he was thinking of me so that he could make himself last.

For me.

The force of that set me off, my primed body reacting to his mouth, to his feelings, to the wet slapping noises his cock was making as it plunged again and again into my vagina, and I screeched as I came hard on my own carpet. The orgasm radiated out from his dick to my fingertips and back, each wave more powerful than the last, my body a clinging, powerless mess, ruined for Ben or anyone else as I responded to the power of the man above me, taking me, using me.

He knew, too. I saw it in his eyes, in the way he looked down at me when his lips finally left my flesh, trailing saliva off my skin. I felt it in the urgency with which he fucked me, driving me into the floor, marveling that I'd cum. And I smelled it as he breathed into my face, the gasp coming from somewhere deep inside him as he came, too.

I'd taken his load on my face and body, across my chest, in my hands. I knew how much hot, thick cum he could send out, how far he could shoot it, how hard it would pump. And that's why I orgasmed again, on the heels of the first one, knowing he was spewing one of those remarkable loads where it was meant to go: deep inside his woman's wet pussy after he'd defiled her, his hips scooping low as he drove as far inside me as he could get and then unloaded in great, powerful spurts.

I felt the heat, the fullness, the twitch of his dick, both of us gasping out our pleasure into each others' sweating faces as he took me for his own. "Holy shit," he gasped, a wavering smugness to his tone, his eyes wide.

"That's it, baby," I rasped, my voice not sounding like my own. "Cum inside your slut." I was grappling his body to mine with my arms and my legs both, my whole self wrapped around him. I sucked his tongue between my lips, recklessly, greedily.

"Oh my god," he whispered. His hand rose trembling to my hair, leaving reddened fingerprints behind where he'd gripped my tit as he came. He felt better than he'd ever felt, I saw; I knew it just as surely as I'd ever known anything in my life, and I was the one who'd brought him there.

It gave me a glow. Almost a third orgasm.

I relaxed my legs, planting my socks on my carpet and loosening my arms across his back. Later, I would notice the marks my fingernails made there, raking along his spine; now, all I felt was lassitude, the glorious lazy aftermath of a fully satisfying fuck, that rarest of things. I captured his lower lip between mine and sucked on it gently, feeling his cock still inside me. "Thank you, lover," I purred. "You make me feel so good."

"Oh my god," he said again, our hips sweating against each other. "I never knew I could feel like that."

"You can." I smiled at him, the loving smile I saved for moments when I was unguarded. I almost never gave that smile. "Anytime you want to, just call me. I'll come over. You can practice tasting my body, and then I'll practice keeping you from cumming, until we both feel like we're the most important things in the world to each other." I was whispering, soft, intimate. Tender.

I'm a nurturer.

"Just hold me," I murmured. Later, I knew, we'd feel the carpet burns on my ass and his knees. Later, I'd need to clean our cum from the rug. Now? I wanted to be close to him. "Hold me until you want me to clean you off, baby."

He cocked his head. "Clean me off?"

I smiled dreamily. "I love your dick, Jared, but it's never been in my mouth. Tonight, it will be." I kissed him. "I want it there. I want to taste our bodies on your cock. I want to suck your balls." He spasmed inside me, and my smile turned sly. "Ooh. You like that." I sucked at his lip once more. "See what I can do? See how I can suck?" I took him in again, my tongue bathing his, lips pulsing. "Go on, honey. Bring me your balls. Feed me your cock." I was whispering in his ear, making my voice a low, sexy purr. "Choke me with your dick, baby," I begged.

He looked at me a moment in disbelief, then he surged up and off me. Out of me. His wet penis barely drooped as he swung his legs alongside mine, straddling me, gazing down at me as a man gazes at a queen. At an empress. At a goddess. I curled myself up, just slightly, my arms kinking behind me to get my bra unhooked, and then I was wrestling with my shirt and bra. He reached down to help, both of us wanting me to be naked with him, and even before I had a chance to settle back down he was on me, my bare tits clamped between his meaty thighs with his sticky dick looming before me.

His smell rolled over me, the heady scent of sweat and balls and pussy and cum, bathing me in our hormones. On impulse I raised my face, nuzzling him, my nose batting his balls side to side; I was in bliss, filled with him inside and covered with him outside, but then my mouth felt empty and I opened wide.

Holding his gaze while my lips locked around his scrotum was a transcendent experience. I got to see the longing wonderment in his eyes when he peered down at me, amazed that I could want to do this for him. I sucked hard and deep, feeling him fill my mouth, my tongue probing between his testicles. They were fat and heavy in my mouth. The smell of my pussy where his dick crossed my nose addicted me.

I needed it.

I spat his balls out, my head twisting sideways so my lips could caress the rich veins on his shaft, tasting us. He looked down the whole time, his body imprisoning mine, and I could not have been happier: I feasted, sating myself, needing the contact. His ass filling my hands was a bonus, a sensory delight. But not the only bonus.

I felt it.

"My my, Jared," I murmured up at him, my voice smoky. "You're hard again."

"Fuck yeah." He was finished being shy. I was proud of him.

I gave him a long, wet lick from root to tip. "Why are you hard again, baby?"

He nodded. "Because I want to fuck you."

"Yeah?" I made it sound breathy, vulnerable. "You want to fuck me? You want to fuck my sloppy pussy?" It was, too; I could feel his cum trickling out, into my buttcrack. "You want to stuff me full of this big fat cock, stud?"

"Fuck yeah." It was a grating rasp now.

"How do you want to take me, baby?" I kissed his head, feeling his whole dick shudder in response. "Want to have me from behind? Hmm? So you can see me bend over for you?"

"Goddamn."

"That's it. My ass shaking as we fuck. My big tits swinging." I chiseled my fingers into the crack of his ass, wanting to feel every part of him. "Let it out. Tell me what you need." I sucked him into my mouth and held him there a moment, feeling the tightness of his skin on my tongue. "Because I'll do anything you want, baby."

"Bend over the couch," he commanded. His Adam's apple bobbed. He got up off me and lightly slapped a breast still marked by his hands. I yelped a giggle. "Get up. Now."

"Okay." I curled under him, stretching, then wormed my way out from between his thighs, his balls dragging over my flesh. My living room reeked of sex. His cock was its usual rebar self, as if he hadn't just shot a monster load a few minutes earlier. "I'll do it. For you, lover." I sat up against him, my nipples crushed against his, and gave him my deepest kiss. "Fuck me hard," I urged, throaty, as I pulled back. He knelt on the floor as I uncoiled, positioning myself, my head and arms on the back of my sectional as, my mouth falling open, I looked back at Jared. I opened my legs and spread them wide, my back arching low.

I could feel his cum on my inner thighs, trickling slowly. It made me shiver.

He rose on those fluid legs of his, cock in hand, his look as feral as it had been the first time I showed him my tit in that baby-blue lace. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Fuck, I wanted him to take me. To pummel me. I sensed there was no point in telling him: he would see it in my eyes, in my ready body, in my braced arms and legs.

He laid his hands almost reverently on my hips, running them over the fleshy globes of my bent ass, admiring me, and then I lowered my head between my arms in surrender. So I was looking back between my hanging tits, watching as he penetrated me, his hand steering his cock into my slit.

My whole body trembled when I saw those beautiful, spit-soaked balls press against my clit.

His nails dug in; I caught the line of his thighs changing, sharpening, his muscles tensing, and then he was taking me. His first thrust pushed me into the couch despite my arms, and then he waited while I reset. His second thrust did the same thing, and then he nearly made me cum again as he found his voice. "That the best you can do, Ms Norland?"

Fuck.

I pushed back into him, hard, my muscles straining, showing him I could take his cock however he wanted to give it to me. I was gritting my teeth as he pushed in the third time, but I held firm, and by the fourth thrust I was pushing back a bit. And then?

We were animals, legs slapping loudly as they met. His fingers tore at my flesh, gripping hard, holding me where he wanted me. I was his then, entirely: his bitch. His whore. His cumslut. I was who he deserved, him with his splendid cock and those eager young balls swinging as he claimed me. I needed to be his.

So I braced myself further, thrust my body back, and let him have me.

I'm sure the neighbors heard my shrieks, punctuating each powerful thrust like a tennis player hitting returns, each of them rising to a clenched sob at the end before starting all over again in the next second as his fingers tightened and his dick slid back inside me, again and again, filling me with every stroke as he plunged into the welter of his own first load.

I saw my own thighs glisten, froth dripping away from us with every tit-shaking thrust, and then just when I thought my arms would give out, just when he was holding hard and speeding up and grunting my name, just as his sweat was sprinkling my back, he gave a final great thrust that pinned me to the couch once more before his balls tightened on my body and he came again, dousing my juicy pussy, leaving me full and him empty as the sectional stopped inching across the rug.

"Holy shit!" he raved, triumphant, his body smothering mine. I felt it now, the ache in my thighs and back: he'd slammed me hard, controlling me, and I loved it. I twisted my head slowly around, panting, my face showing the mottled blush of the lust he'd unleashed. "Jesus, Ms Norland."

"Yeah," I replied dully, my throat hurting. "Look, Jared, do me a favor?" I gasped as he flexed his dick, still embedded deep inside me. Still summoning lightning bolts from my pussy. "Call me Ella."

He gazed happily down at my bare ass. "I think I could get used to this." He was blowing like a racehorse.

"Just wait." I felt delicious. Vibrant. Wanted. "We haven't even made it to my bed yet. Happy Thanksgiving, stud."

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