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Authors: Allison Hobbs,Cairo

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BOOK: Sexual Healing
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Laila deftly relaxed her throat muscles, allowing him to force-fit his lengthy cock down her tight windpipe. Realizing he was close to busting, he reluctantly pulled his burgeoning manhood out of Laila's neck and smeared his leaking pre-cum all over her mouth.

Looking confused, Laila licked the salty substance from her lips. “What's wrong? You used to love it when I sucked the first nut out of you.”

“You can suck out the next one, all right? But right now, I gotta bust inside that hot pussy.”

Laila stood up and Cruze roughly tossed her on the bed. Grunting with desire, he mounted her. Knocking her legs apart with his knee, he guided his swollen cock toward her creamy slit.

“Uh,” he groaned as he pumped dick into her depths. Her satiny walls contracted around his thickness, possessively clutching at his manhood as if trying to keep him trapped inside her pussy, forever.

The lock-tight grip Laila had on his dick felt amazing. But he wouldn't last long if he didn't put up a fight. Grinding his hips into her hers, he took control, feeding her pussy slow, measured thrusts of rock-hard dick.

After a few moments, he increased the tempo, stroking in and out at a much faster pace. “Ooo, this pussy is so damn wet, I can tell you're ready for me to gut you. Are you ready, baby?”

“Yeah, I'm ready for you to gut-fuck me, bae,” Laila replied breathlessly.

Cruze let out a groan as he pulled his dick out of her hot snatch. Coated with Laila's juices, his long, thick meat pulsed with readiness. He yanked Laila by her legs and pulled her into position. Stretching her flexible thighs wide apart, he situated himself in the V-shaped space. He looked down and saw that her dripping-wet cunt was gaped open invitingly.

Showing no mercy, Cruze rammed his dick in so deeply, his nuts slapped against Laila's ass. With every thick inch that he jammed into her gut, he'd pull out a little before pressing in more.

“Oh, God, I love this big dick. It's so good,” Laila cried out in passion. “Can't nobody gut me like you do, Cruze. My pussy needs you, bae. Promise that you'll stay this time. Please, don't leave me, again.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Cruze mumbled, steadily stroking.

In a euphoric zone where the only thing that mattered was the sensation of plowing through the heated slush that flowed from Laila's pink, hot gash, Cruze said whatever she wanted to hear. Sweating and straining, he pounded her pussy so hard, Laila curled her toes and her hands gripped the sheets. Driving in hard dick at a rapid speed, her head knocked repeatedly into the leather headboard.

“That's right, fuck my brains out, daddy. Tear me wide open. Goddamn, I love you, so damn much. You can't leave me no more, baby.
Mmm
. You gotta fuck me like this every night. Promise me . . . uhn . . .
please,”
Laila pleaded as Cruze plunged deep inside her, fucking her in hard strokes, the head of his dick bumping up against the mouth of her cervix.

With every lunge inside her lush body, she grew slicker around his dick. Against her flesh, he rasped, “Come for me, baby. Let me feel your wet pussy melt all over my dick.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” she screamed as she tightened her legs around Cruze's back. “Fuck me!
Mmm,
yes—God! Fuck me!”

Her nails dug into his back. Spiraling closer to nirvana, a spasm of delight gripped her pussy. She gasped, grabbing the sheets around her.

Then cried out his name as all the love and arousal she had for him flowed from her body.

Three

"M
mm, yes . . . goddamn you,
yesss!”
Arabia moaned over a sensual beat that poured out through the club's speakers. She was on her hands and knees, her ass cheeks pulled apart, her pussy splayed open. Behind her stood her six-foot-one anonymous lover, his face hidden behind a black spandex three-hole hood. A mask he wore for extra protection from anyone knowing his real identity despite the fact that every club member was not only interviewed vigorously, but also required to sign a nondisclosure agreement before being accepted into the adult playground.

Whatever.

She didn't care
who
or
what
he was out in the real world. Tonight, he was simply a random fuck. Tall. Dark. And sexy as hell—from the neck down, that was. She didn't care what he looked like behind that mask. Hell, a gorilla could have been hidden behind the latex for all she cared. All that mattered to her was the way his muscles rippled as he fucked into his lover's body, and the shrill cries of joy she emitted with each thrust.

It'd taken her nearly thirty minutes to find him. Up on the third floor. Fucking.

She'd stood back quietly, viewing intently for several moments as he rammed his dick—in rapid, piston-like strokes—in and out of the cunt of a pretty brown-skinned woman. He'd slammed his
rock-hard cock into her body hard,
harder, harder,
again and again and again—each powerful stroke making the woman sob with exquisite pleasure.

Arabia had bit her lip, drunk in the sight of the two lovers, feeling her blood heat with desire. She could smell the woman's pussy as he sliced into her wetness. And mmm, it'd made her mouth water as she watched on with a wicked joy that made her own cunt tingle with need.

She wasn't a lesbian, but she'd wanted so desperately to snatch him out of his lover's sex and suck him into her mouth, licking his lover's cunt cream from his cock. Yes—oh God—yes. She wanted to taste
it.
Taste
her
on
him
.

Times like this—when carnal desire seeped through every part of her—was when she wanted to be unanchored and out of control. It was when she felt the freakiest, the dirtiest.

She stood there, watching, wanting—watering, for what seemed a long while before she'd boldly slipped out of her dress, allowing the garment to flutter to the floor. The club's music pulsed over her body as she stepped over her dress, and—in her panties and come-fuck-me heels—sauntered over to the couple, her gaze transfixed on the stretch of muscle covering her prey's back, his ass, the back of his thighs. Ropes of sweaty muscle tightening with his every thrust. His hips beat against Brown Skin's soft rounded ass, his dick pummeled and hammered deep inside her.

The Masked Man watched himself disappearing into his lover's hole, reemerging from each thrust wetter and wetter. Arabia licked her lips, feeling her veins flood with envy. She'd wanted what that bitch was getting.

She'd wanted a good hard dick down.

She'd felt the blood throbbing between her thighs as her gaze danced all over his body. Sweet heavenly Father, that beautiful ass
of his. She'd wanted to bite into each cheek, inhale his musky scent, then chew into his flesh. Her pussy had flared at the thought. She'd trembled, her body hot and sizzling from a burning need to be stuffed with cock as she made her way over to them. She'd been so aroused, her nipples deliciously tight, her cunt aching. She hadn't cared if the two of them were a couple in real life, or not. She'd planned on stealing Miss Brown Skin's lover away from her, and having
her
way with him.

She'd slid out of her panties, then tossed them over to a tanned Italian who'd been eyeing her as he stroked his dick. He'd caught her panties—lacy and red—in midair, then brought them up to his nose and sniffed. She'd licked her lips, sliding a hand between her legs and brushing a delicate finger over the hood of her clitoris. Pleasure had splintered fiercely through her body until her clit swelled. She'd bitten back a low moan as she slowly slid two fingers inside the folds of her pussy. Her slit closed around her fingers as they lost themselves deep inside her arousal.

Her eyes fluttered, only for a brief moment, before she'd brought her fingers to her lips and sucked them into her warm mouth. Mmm. She licked her lips, then swallowed the saliva that had begun to gather in her jaws.

She hadn't minded the eyes that had watched her, hungry and wide, as she stalked closer, beginning to talk dirty over the music, telling Mr. Masked Man to fuck that pussy, telling him how badly she wanted him to fuck her, too, with his big, juicy dick.

And, she'd wasted no time reaching between him and his lover and grabbing him at the base of his wet, sheathed cock, fisting him, her hand hitting the back of Brown Skin's stretched sex. Each time he thrust forward, then pulled back, her hand glided along his shaft.

She licked over his sweaty skin, then rasped close to his encased ear, “Come fuck me.
My
pussy wants you more.”

Finally aware of her presence, he'd turned his head toward her, still thrusting into his lover, and through the eye slits of his mask, she'd seen a flash of hot hunger. The mysteriousness of him wearing a latex hood had made him that more desirable. And she'd wanted him even more now that she was close enough to feel his raw, masculine heat.

Miss Brown Skin—her face flushed and jaws clenched—had glanced over her shoulder and shot Arabia a dirty look.
Who is this cock-blocking bitch? All these men up in here, why can't this thirsty bitch go find another dick to play with?
She'd thrown her ass back harder at Mr. Masked Man, reminding him of whose pussy he was still in. But it hadn't seemed to no longer matter as he slowly pulled out of her. Then, for good measure, he'd drawn back his hand and smacked her ass. Then, without another thought or second glance, was being snatched away by Arabia.

The nerve of that
bitch!

Now here she was . . .

Naked.

On display.

Ass up, face down; the masked man's fingers grazing the soft brown flesh surrounding her cunt. She shook her ass. Made it clap back. And he still hadn't stuck his dick in and fucked her mercilessly. What the hell was he waiting for?

She glanced back over her shoulder. “Put your dick in me,” she urged impatiently.

In response, he cupped and caressed her ass, then slapped it. Hard. Ooh, yes. He slapped it again. Harder. The sting cracked fiercely through her body until her clitoris swelled, threatening to burst open with pleasure.

Oh, he wanted to fuck her sexy ass, but not yet. His balls ached, his dick was long and hard and so goddam ready to explode. He
wanted to be buried deep inside her. But he fought it. He wanted her to beg. Wanted her to cry out for it.

Arabia wiggled and bucked, demanding he fill her. In spite of her surging frustration, she'd gone unbelievably wet from the waiting. And now she wanted action. She didn't beg for dick, goddamn you; thank you very much. Not from any man.

Ever.

And she wouldn't start now. Especially not with this masked man. He reached underneath her to stroke her engorged nub. “Your ass, your pussy, is so fucking beautiful,” he said huskily. “You want me to fuck you in it?”

She wasn't sure which hole he wanted. But she'd gladly give him either, or both. The choice was his. Just fuck her already.

“Yes,” she hissed, lifting her head from the sofa, and glancing over her shoulder again. “Fuck me.
Now
.”
She felt herself becoming agitated. This sweet torture wasn't what she wanted. She hadn't chosen him to toy with her cunt. She'd picked him to
fuck
her. Hard.

Yet this masked fucker wanted to tease her.

He pinched her clit again, and she gasped as wires of pleasure shot from her throbbing sex. “I'm gonna fuck you until your sweet pussy flutters and clenches around this big dick. Is that what you want, this dick to bust your guts up?”

Yes, yes, yes
—Lord God,
yes!

Promises, promises . . .

He slid his fingers through her wet folds, testing her arousal. She twisted restlessly, pushing back against his probing fingers, clutching them as he withdrew. Her patience was wearing thin. Her cunt was growing angrier by each finger stroke, his fingers grazing the back wall of her sex. Oh how she wished her pussy had teeth. She'd gnaw his fucking fingers off.

That would learn him.

And as she was ready to get up and dismiss him to seek out a more compliant, more willing, more aggressive lover, he was grasping his dick with one hand, rolling a condom down over the rigid column of flesh with the other hand, before spreading her, then positioning himself at the mouth of her pussy.

Then, then . . . mmm—thank God—she felt the thick head of his dick push against her, teasing her, testing her, then in one forceful thrust, he buried himself inside a burst of wetness, the plush walls of her vagina blanketing him, caressing his cock, wetting him.

“Fuck,”
he hissed. “This pussy tight. And wet.” He pushed in deeper until his balls flattened between her ass and his thighs, and he felt her vibrating around him.

Arabia eagerly pumped her hips, fucking herself into him until he got with the program, wrapping an arm around her waist and pounding into her, opening her up. Moving faster and harder as she went slick around him; finally giving her what she'd come for, what she craved.

“Yes, yes, yes—
fuck
me! Give me that big black cock, motherfucker! Oh, yes, yes . . . mmm, yessss . . .”

She ran her tongue over her upper lip, ecstasy sweeping through her. She rhythmically rocked her hips in greed to get more of him inside of her, her juices dripping down her thighs. Yes, God, yes.
This
was what her pussy needed. A pounding.

“Mmm, harder . . . harder.” She reached in back of her and pulled her ass cheeks open wider. “Spit in my hole,” she rasped, “and stick a finger in my ass while you fuck me.”

The masked man groaned as he eased back and eyed her clenching asshole. Fuck a finger. He wanted to put his dick in it. But he obliged her, spitting down into her ass—once, twice, then shoving his middle finger in. Greeted by tight heat, his finger retreated,
then sunk back in. In and out. In and out. His finger stirred her ass juices as his dick pumped into her pussy.

She gasped, and her cunt gripped him wildly. She couldn't deny it. His dick felt good inside her, real good. But it wasn't the kind of toe-curling, spine-tingling cock she'd hoped for. She needed a sex beast whose dick could make her whole body pulse nonstop, long after he'd been inside her with his tongue, fingers and dick, ravishing her cunt, fucking her to shreds.

She needed to feel herself swirling outside of herself, crying out in pleasure, the world blurring around her, lost in the white heat of passion.

Yes, Lord.

What she needed was a reformed thug-daddy who knew when to slam her up against a wall, rip her panties off, then choke the everlasting life out of her while he seesawed his roguish cock in and out of her, pillaging through her core, fucking her raw and swollen.

Dear God . . .

That was exactly what she wanted, no,
needed
. A man who'd pound her walls and fuck her guts inside out.

So far, she hadn't found him. No, no. On second thought,
he
hadn't found
her
.

All that had found her over the last two years were lazy, uninspiring lovers whose cocks teased her pussy, and left her starved and aching for something more the moment they'd flopped out of her.

Lazy fucks.

And now this masked man was in back of her . . .
fucking
her, but not really fucking
her.
Fucking him wasn't hot enough, wasn't dirty enough. It wasn't rough enough, rugged enough.

It was
just
enough.

Enough to stroke the ache in her cunt, enough to feed her craving, enough until the next time, until dirty need pierced her core.

He groaned. “Aaah, shit, yeah . . . mmm . . . I'ma tear this pussy up, baby. Uhhh, fuck . . .”

“Then tear it up,” she urged huskily over her shoulder. “Stop all this silly shit and bang my pussy up.” She lunged back against him, prodding him with more nasty talk, taking everything he had to give and, yet, craving more. “Feed my pussy that big dick.
Fuck
me.
Fuck
me.
Fuuuck. Meeeee!”
She grunted, and fiercely pumped her pelvis. Her walls squeezed him tightly, her orgasm coming around the width of him.

“Ah, shit, baby,” he groaned as her asshole pulsed around his still probing finger. “Unh. Mmm. You about to make me nut.”

“Pull your finger out of my ass,” she demanded, “and stick it in my mouth. Then I want you to lick inside my asshole, then fuck me in it.”

Damn, this bitch's nasty,
he mused as he pulled his middle finger out and brought it to her lips,
but I ain't licking no ass
. She flicked her tongue over the tip of his finger, then parted her lips and slowly sucked it into her mouth—until she was knuckles deep, tasting her ass on it, then groaning as if she were sucking on a dick. The sensation made Masked Man's dick twitch inside of her.

She leaned forward more, stretching her arms so that she could clutch the side of the plush leather sofa. “Harder,” she demanded. With raised hand, she reached behind her and smacked her own ass. “I watched you fucking that other bitch. Now give me the dick like you gave it to her. Fuck me like you hate me.”

Masked Man didn't answer in words, but his hands dug into her hips, and he finally pounded her in rhythmic thrusts that made her nipples tighten.

“Yes. Mmm. Yes, yes . . . that's it. Get this pussy . . .” She rocked her
hips, wanting more of him. Her pussy clutched his cock, tighter, wetter. “Give me that nut.” His hips smacked against her ass, jostling her entire body. The pleasure escalated and she felt herself panting.

BOOK: Sexual Healing
10.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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