Urban Fantasies: The Model

"Oh, fuck."

Pulling out, he grabs a fist full of hair and yanks my head back hard, exposing my throat and making it difficult to breathe through my tight, stretched, skin; tears pool in my eyes and begin to leak down my face.

He's ramming my cunt hard, using my hair as his bridle.

"That's right, slut. Take this cock -- feel it deep, baby, deep."

I can't even moan, though I want to. I'm cumming already; again. It hurts -- my scalp and throat, my arms stretching as I gasp for air and position -- except in my pussy where his cock is taking mastery of me.

I'm falling forward as he's grabbing my hips, screaming and gasping and cumming as he's fucking me with that rod -- fast and furious.

I'm out of my mind -- out of control -- riding his cock with him as I rock back and forth; more and more cum pouring out of me in mass ejaculation.

And words -- words are falling out of my mouth between screams of gratification -- "Fuck me," "Fuck your little cum slut," "So fucking good," "Holy, fuck, God," "Harder, faster, fuck me," "Cuu-uu-mmi-nng-gg aga—aain."

Neither of us noticing the sweat that rose, glowing, on our slicked forms; too busy concentrating on each other's body where we connected; drove to physical completion.

He's slamming in to me so far it hurts so good; I feel like the slut I'm proclaiming myself to be -- his slut. I'm a cum-slut to his cock, now spurting his cum inside of me on a roar of male conquest.

As I collapse to the bed, limbs weak and languid -- too lazy to move -- I accept that I am his slut.

Captured by my own hand; my drawn picture.