Do You Think About Fucking Me

Tell me something, Dan," she purred, her voice a lustful. "Do you think about fucking me? Because as I was watching you... I started wondering if that big, beautiful cock of yours knows how to handle a girl who actually wants to use it."

She didn't wait for an answer. Ellie’s fingers locked around his wrist, not gently, but with a possessive grip that left no room for an argument. She pivoted, her small frame pulling him toward the sagging porch of the house. She led him through the screen door—and steered him deeper into the dim house, the air smelling of old wood. The house felt huge, as she marched him toward his bedroom.

"Jake is at practice," she whispered. "His mom is at the store. We have an hour. Maybe two."

She didn't just lead him into the room; she shoved him. Dan stumbled back, his stocky frame colliding with the edge of his unmade bed. The impact sent a jolt through him, but he didn't move to steady himself. He stayed there, perched on the edge of the mattress. He looked up at her, and for the first time, her shyness was gone, replaced by a burning desire.

Ellie didn't give him time to process the shift. She stepped between his knees, her thighs brushing against his and reached up to grab the collar of his t-shirt. She yanked him forward.

"Stop thinking, Dan. Just for once, stop thinking," she commanded.

She didn't kiss him—not yet. Instead, she used his collar to pull his face inches from hers. She wanted him to see the lust in her eyes, the way she was dismantling his carefully constructed walls.

"You're shaking," she whispered, a smirk on her lips. "Is it because you're scared, or because you've been imagining this since the day I first met you?"

Dan didn't answer with words. He couldn’t. He reached out, his hands gripping her waist, like she might shatter or disappear. The contrast was jarring—his broad body against her petite form, yet she was the one commanding the space.

"Both," he finally whispered. "God, Ellie... both."

The admission broke the tension, sending them colliding. Dan kissed her, his mouth crashing against hers with a pent up energy. He tasted like mint, as Ellie’s hands slid up his neck to tangle in his hair, replaced by a lustful hunger. She let out a moan—as she felt his big cock pressing against her thighs.

"I've wanted this," Dan groaned. "Since the second I saw you... god, you're so hot."

Ellie pulled back just an inch, her grey eyes meeting his. She was barely reaching four feet and ten inches, but the way she commanded his space made her feel ten feet tall. At 114 pounds, she was all soft curves and hidden strength, her average build deceptive in how perfectly it fit against his.

The sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting shadows across her skin and her blonde hair. She looked like a doll, but the expression on her face was pure lust.

"Take your pants off," she commanded. "Now."

Dan didn’t hesitate. The sound of the zipper was loud in the quiet room. He shoved the denim down his thighs, kicking them away with enthusiasm. When he finally stood before her, fully erect, Ellie let out a low lustful sound.

"Jesus," she breathed, her eyes traveling the length of him. "You weren't lying."

The air in the room felt thick, as the silence stretched between them. Dan’s cock throbbed, a pulsing demand that echoed the frantic beat of his heart. It was an honest reaction to her gaze—a physical need he’d kept locked behind a shy exterior for months. Every time Ellie blinked, every time her eyes traced a path along the shaft.

"Do you like it?" Dan whispered, his voice stripped of its usual hesitation.

Ellie didn't answer with words. She reached out, her small hand wrapping around the thick base of him. She gasped, her fingers not meeting on the other side. The sheer scale of him was intoxicating, physical proof of the secret he'd been keeping. She squeezed, a slow, deliberate pressure that made Dan’s cock throb harder. He let out a moan, his head falling back.

Then, she began to stroke him.

It wasn't a tentative touch; it was a claim. Ellie gripped him tight, her palm sliding up and down his shaft. She watched his face—the way his eyes fluttered shut and his jaw tightened—and it fueled her. She wanted to see exactly how much of this "pornstar" energy was real.

"You're so thick," she whispered, her voice a needy plea.

Ellie didn't stop at the stroke. She shifted, her petite frame sliding down until she was kneeling on the hardwood floor between his legs.