Reggie's Girl Ch. 01

"Fuck me," Jasmine implored. "Oh please don't stop, fuck me." She was lost.

Of course the idea that he was her hostage was always farcical. The reverse was closer to the truth, except Jasmine did not feel like a captive at all. If he pushed her away now, she would freely grovel for his favors.

Her worst fears threatened to materialize when he pulled his mouth away. "No!" she yelped in desperation. She tightened her legs around his neck. "Please sir, you wouldn't leave me like this!"

"Course not, baby." Jasmine heard a trace of surprise in his voice. "Relax. I know what I'm doing."

The next thing she felt was his tongue strolling along the hood of her clit. She waited for his attention to switch to the miniature erection itself, but for lap after lap after lap McComb subjected it to a cruel snub.

Nonetheless, her climax was at hand. When she was teetering on the very edge, his mouth suddenly veered off to cover her straining clit. With a startled yell, Jasmine jerked her hips upwards and came in an exquisite prolonged shudder.

For long seconds afterwards, she felt like she was floating inches above her body. "My God," she wheezed, trying to still her spinning world.

McComb went right on licking her, didn't respond to the grateful hand she lay on his head. "No more, sir," she said, and the unbridled warmth in her voice made her flush up even more. "You did it, I came already."

As if he'd just needed her verbal confirmation, he now withdrew his mouth. "I think I can make you come again," McComb replied, resting his chin on the hump of strawberry-gold curls above her sex. His words plus the sexy, hooded look in his eye had her spit-polished pussy ruining all his hard work with another leak.

"I doubt it," Jasmine denied, shaking her head with hot-faced vehemence. "In any case, you need a break. Your tongue is going to get a cramp or something."

"You know, my tongue's not all I've got to work with," he reminded her. His crooked grin was almost enough to set her panting again. She squirmed up the bed until his head was no longer between her thighs, then swiftly rose to her knees. Her retreat halted when McComb rose as well and reached for her wrist.

He didn't snatch at her, but Jasmine couldn't resist the easy pull with which he brought her close to him. Her eyes pleaded with his grave countenance as he brought her hand to his engorged dick.

He was harder than ever, like hot, satiny granite, a discovery that prompted a perverse overflow in her pussy. Wet as she was, it would no doubt be difficult to take him. But she could do it. She sensed he had no will to hurt her. He'd even make it really good for her.

Shaking her head clear of such traitorous thoughts, Jasmine brought her hands up against his chest. But she was much struck by the difference in their complexions, and forgetting all else, she let her small hands explore the acre of dark skin that spanned his chest.

McComb wrapped her in a loose embrace, letting her study the fascinating contrast. "I got no fight in me left, baby," he murmured, kissing her temple, her cheek. "Now, why don't you move in for the kill?"

But Jasmine knew what he was doing and gave a difficult shake of her head. Her arms climbed around his neck and she locked her earnest gaze with his. "I- I think I'm done, sir. I've had a great time tonight, you've been amazing-"

"I can be more so," McComb murmured. He palmed her ass and rubbed his tumescent cock against her belly, further undermining her already shaky resolve not to have sex with him.

"Oh shit," Jasmine hissed. It wasn't fair. She was resisting two people at the same time, McComb and herself; it was so hard to ignore that fat, naked cock against her.

McComb eased her head back and kissed a wet trail down her throat, but it was her own hips which had started to grind into him. He was too close, too naked, too big for her to resist.

"Look at you," he admonished as he ran his hands over her trembling nakedness. "You're in bad fuckin' shape, baby, make me do something about it."

"No." Jasmine hid her face in his throat as she kept rubbing her body against his. After dragging her nipples on his chest a few times, she felt mindless with need.

McComb grabbed her hair in his fist and pulled her head back again. Forced to make eye contact, she was surprised to find him looking so serious. No shit-eating grin mocking her own wild, trapped expression. He had all the appearance of a man not fucking around.

"Fuck me," he snarled at her.

"Yeah," Jasmine gasped. Her head bobbed up and down in eager capitulation. "Okay."

She arranged herself in his bed as McComb went to open the bedside drawer. He retrieved a condom and she felt a rush of apprehension as she took in the size of his dick. Darkly beautiful as it was to look at, it could only hurt to take him within her.

Jasmine's eyes lifted to his. She saw no tenderness or reassurance therein, but somehow, his humorless resolve put the last of her reservations to rest. After all, she wanted him every bit as much as he so clearly did her.

So when McComb slipped between the black sheets and reached for her, she went to him. She returned his wet kisses, she let him feel up her bare curves, she let him ease her leg over his torso so she sat astride him.

Placing an unsteady hand on his chest, Jasmine wrapped her other one round his enormous rod and guided it to her oozing opening. With extreme care, she sank onto his dick, a few millimeters at a time.

After a long time, her sharp gasps gave way to a groaning sigh as she settled him to the hilt inside her.

"That's right, take me, woman," McComb urged. Her ass stung from the sudden swat he gave it and she couldn't repress the light laugh that issued from her throat. He really was not good at this hostage thing.

Jasmine opened her eyes to find him watching her face with a faint smile. "Jump on that dick," he breathed. Her pelvis lurched into prompt motion, even as her mind groped for a sassy retort.

In seconds, their brief levity dissipated into the ether as they gave themselves over to the deadly serious business of fucking. Jasmine lost herself in his glazed frown and the primitive hypnosis of her rhythm.

She became conscious of her boobs starting to hurt as they repeatedly flew up, then landed on her ribcage with a meaty slap. McComb must have read her efforts to protect the soft mounds as an attempt to hide them because he grabbed her wrists and yanked them to her sides.

Jasmine didn't pause her jack-hammering motions but thrust her tits out so he'd hold them for her. Instead he just pushed her hair so it tumbled down her back, leaving her bouncing breasts exposed. He leaned in and licked a nipple.

She gave a desperate, warning moan. Between him French kissing her tits and the friction of their fused loins, it was just too much sensation to bear.

McComb licked her again and she came unbeliavably hard, with a loud and inelegant groan. Her jouncing hips froze. Her inner muscles clenched his cock until the intense throb passed. But when it was over, he was still so nice and hard, it was impossible to keep from grinding into him.

He liked it too. His fingers dug into her hips, forbidding her to stop. So she kept rocking back and forth. Moments later, she gave in to a nagging temptation and wet her fingers in her mouth before brushing them over her clit. The raw enjoyment with which he watched her compounded her pleasure.

Jasmine looked him straight in the eye as she rode on, still touching herself. She felt so shameless, enslaved to her lust, but she couldn't help it. Those two incredible orgasms had altered her and all she cared about was getting to the third. He saw it and she didn't care.

With the additional rubbing on her clit, it didn't take Jasmine long to come again. She braced her hands on his chest to keep from falling forward. Her hips didn't stop moving, though. Climax-weakened as her body was, she still wanted to go on fucking.

Jasmine bowed her head so her hair shielded her face from his gaze. The slaking of her initial lust now brought other emotions to the fore, shame chief among them. She couldn't escape the feeling that she had betrayed someone horribly - maybe Ted, definitely herself - yet she still couldn't get over how good it all felt.

"This is so wrong," she mumbled, but there was nowhere else to go. Her body wasn't done with McComb, and he sure as hell wasn't done with her body. She was his for the night and they both knew it.

"Make me stop," Jasmine entreated. It was a measure of how desperate she felt that she could even ask it of him.

"Good girls," she heard McComb say on a derisive laugh. "Y'all ain't never had sex you're willing to take responsibility for."

"I can't do this anymore," she said, lifting her head to face him. Her body still moved around his dick, enjoying it far more than was decent. "I feel like a whore."

"You're not a whore, baby," he purred, as his hands slid up to fondle her breasts. "You're Ted's girl."

"Stop it!" His mockery plus the sheer delight of his caresses added up to the most unbearable torture.

"You stop. Right now," McComb challenged. "Why you riding me, I said stop! What's that? Oh, you can't? Damn baby, then maybe you are a whore."

A sob broke from Jasmine's chest. She hated him for saying that, but how could she deny the stiffening of her body as another orgasm approached? She ran the full length of her middle finger up and down her peeking clit, not even content to wait for it in passivity.

One of the hands on her breasts caught her nipple in a tight pinch, and her hoarse scream filled the room. Her pussy began to spasm around his large, inescapable member. She flung her head back and let the overwhelming pleasure blot out her conscience for a few blessed seconds.

Jasmine became aware of her mouth being taken in an insistent kiss. Despair morphed into hope and her spirits soared; perhaps she was still drowsing in his back seat. Maybe they hadn't even got to his house yet, maybe it had all been a too-vivid dream.

But no. The scent of sex pervaded the thick air. She felt sweaty all over, her bare nipples were in contact with an equally naked chest and her lower back ached a little. Most damning of all was the mammoth dick jammed inside her almost all the way to her ribs, still hot and turgid.

Jasmine returned the kiss, albeit with considerably less energy than her urgent partner. There just didn't seem much point in mounting at this stage what would be a very belated resistance. McComb dragged her upright again so he could play with her tits. She was so tired she could barely sit up.

She frowned and moaned low in her throat when he began pinching her sensitive nipples again, not altogether in protest. If anything she welcomed the pain, she had received way more pleasure than she deserved this night.

McComb ran a big hand down her back and grabbed her ass. His other hand remained at her breasts, jiggling one in his palm, cupping the side of the other then giving it a light slap. Perhaps he had read her mind or he was just more excited, but he was getting rougher.

Jasmine invited this manhandling, thrusting her hands in her hair and arching her back in blatant provocation. His response was to slap her boobs around some more and for the next minute or so, they just danced for him, not sitting still for a second.

Then from some deep reserve in her psyche that she hadn't known existed, Jasmine summoned a smile of such taunting witchery that it actually distracted McComb from her chest. His own lips curved as he stared into her face.

"Goddamn, you are a whore," he murmured.

In an abrupt movement, he grabbed her waist and twisted their bodies so her back was on the bed. Then her legs were being raised until her calves rested on his shoulders.

God, he was preparing to give her the fucking of her life. Short of breath again, Jasmine looked up at him as his cock nudged open her silky folds. She was still warm and wet, despite her alarm.

Well, duh. Of course she was, she thought in acid amusement. She was a whore, wasn't she? What did she expect? Incidentally, what did he expect?

McComb froze, and his expression went blank when her fingers slipped into his crack, brushing over his anus. For the first time that night, Jasmine saw him completely unprepared for something she did. It was a fascinating lapse.

But he was back to his default self-assurance in a heartbeat. He cocked an arrogant eyebrow as he looked down at her. "You know I'm gonna ruin you for Ted, right?"

"You can try," she whispered, positioning her finger just as he'd positioned his cock to enter her. Her eyes glittered in wicked invitation, almost a dare.

McComb grunted and drove into her in one long, wrenching thrust. If he had stretched her out before, it wasn't apparent now. It hurt like hell. Her mouth opened, an astonished scream frozen in her throat.

He withdrew and surged into her again. She whimpered. Before she'd been able to control their fucking, but now...

Jasmine cried out when he rammed into her yet again. The urge to fight, to buck his weight off her was almost overwhelming but she made herself hold still. The earlier ecstasy had been wrong. This was a more accurate reflection of reality, of who he was.

And of who she knew herself to be. A necessary reminder.

She had no idea how long he fucked her, but he didn't tire for a long time. The pain lost its edge and allowed some faint pleasure to come through. The discomfort she welcomed, but this stirring of good feelings, she resisted.

"Harder," Jasmine panted, tears still streaming down her temples into her hair. She squirmed beneath him, searching for a tender spot in her sex that his cock could aggravate.

McComb silenced her with a crushing kiss and went right on plowing her. She was starting to like it, though, which was unacceptable. She wondered how she could make him come right away. Dirty talk was not an option with all this kissing.

Jasmine began to touch his asshole again and she heard his ragged groan against her lips. She applied a little pressure at his tight rear entrance, letting up once she was one digit in.

His whole body trembled. In pleasure, she thought, not disgust. She knew it was a definite thrill for her, with all the pummeling she was being put through, to be doing some penetrating in her own small way. Her intrepid finger squeezed all the way in and Jasmine felt his fucking get completely out of control. Her pussy was again starting to give those now-familiar pulses in forewarning.

As McComb kept fucking her, she finger-fucked his ass in turn. There wasn't any method to it; she hardly knew what she was doing, but they were both wild now, it didn't matter.

He made an explosive sound in his throat and plunged into her for the final time. Jasmine recognized from the way his dick twitched that he was coming and that knowledge finished her. With a shrill moan, she came too, her knees quaking around his neck.

For the next minutes Jasmine drifted in and out of consciousness. She knew he slid out of her at some point, that he'd shrugged her legs off his shoulders because her calves weren't feeling so stiff now.

Then she was aware of being covered in cool silk and a light kiss brushing her mouth. "I gotta tip my cap to you, Jasmine," said a laughing voice in her ear. "You are a fucking problem."

Jasmine snuggled into the hard body beside her and sighed as a brawny arm came round her. It was odd that, after the rampant madness of the night, any gesture from him should feel comforting. But she felt protected next to him, as well as proud: she had survived his sexual onslaught, had she not?

"Just full of surprises, huh?" she heard him muse as he rubbed his chin over the top of her head. "Guess that's the last time I underestimate you."

Jasmine croaked some boastful retort which she forgot the instant she finished it, then fell thoroughly into an orgasmic stupor.