Mr. Daniels Pounds Me Into The Dirt

Standing naked before Desmond, he groped my breasts. His calloused hands against my soft white skin made me moan. I looked up at him. Even on my tippy-toes, I barely came up to his shoulder. We made eye contact; my horny desperation met his steely authority.

One hand made its way down to cup my ass, pulling me close, and I melted against his chiseled abs. His dripping cock poked me in the stomach, so I stroked it gently. It pulsed with warmth.

With all of his attention on me, I felt like the center of the universe, touching and being touched. I parted my lips, holding his gaze, and his mouth found mine.

The kiss was passionate and domineering. He subdued me with a flick of his tongue, and I relished in submitting to him, in giving him all that he wanted. A dam broke inside me; my pussy dripped futilely onto the leaves below.

He broke the kiss. “You’re my slut now,” he said. A statement, not a question.

“Yes, sir,” I replied meekly.

Satisfied, still fondling my ass, he turned me around and bent me over. I braced myself against the coarse trunk of a nearby tree. His dick rubbed against my pale bottom. Nervous with longing, I let my ass sway temptingly, practically begging him to fuck me.

Something hard entered my leaking pussy, a finger. I sighed: it only whet my appetite for his cock.

“Please,” I whimpered. “I want it so bad.”

He spanked me, and I yelped. “You should thank me for getting you ready.”

“Thank you,” I blurted out. “Thankyou-thankyou-thankYOU!”

He slid inside me, and my already flushed face turned a cherry red. Crackles of bliss shot from my pussy to my brain. By his third thrust, I was in the throes of a climax.

Thankfully, the unkempt foliage behind the school muted the sound of both his steady pounding and my uncontrollable groans. The hands gripping my hips and the cock filling my cunt seemed the only things keeping me attached to the world. The rest of me floated toward nirvana.

My tongue lolled out of my mouth. Sweat poured down my face. I couldn’t be sure if it was caused by the humidity or the second, third, orgasm in so many minutes.

My arms gave out. Before I even realized I was falling, no longer supported by the tree, Desmond had already saved me. He grabbed my hair to keep me from tumbling into the dirt. The shock of pain exacerbated my pleasure, and I laughed.

I was suspended in his grasp, his cock on one end and his tight grip on the other. I could sense every microscopic movement: the clench of the bicep keeping me up, the twitch in his cock when he buried himself in me, the grazing fingers caressing the white skin of my ass.

My body quivered with rolling orgasms. Unable to handle the overwhelming high of cumming on Mr. Daniels’ black cock, it shut down everything superfluous. My legs went first.

This time, instead of keeping me upright, Desmond, still grinding his dick into my pussy, lowered me to the forest floor. I managed to keep my butt in the air long enough for him to bring me to another orgasm, but that caused my thighs to fail. I laid face-down in the dirt, my breath sending leaves skittering away.

Mr. Daniels only took a moment to adjust before he returned to pummeling my submissive cunt. Pressing his athletic body against mine, going deeper with every thrust, he wrapped his arms around me, and, in his embrace, I felt totally conquered. If this were a contest of wills, of manliness, it would not be won by the man who’d let his competitor fuck him to multiple orgasms.

A spasm ran through his body, and I smiled, knowing I was about to receive his load deep inside. I kicked my feet helplessly, pinned beneath the full weight of the man who owned me. When his cum arrived, my pussy convulsed, as if trying to impel it toward my womb.

We laid there, our sweat, our breath, mingling in the afternoon heat. Finally, he stood. His dick left me with a gasp. I turned over onto my back.

Here I was again, looking up at him after he’d left me a drooling mess. My mind began to clear, but it made my feelings no easier to parse. I needed his dick. That was a fact. I wouldn’t be able to go on without at least an occasional visit. At the same time, I couldn’t fathom how I could return to my normal life with my experiences, or how I could keep it a secret from Quentin.

He tossed me an ice-cold Powerade, and I guzzled it down. He did the same. I reached for my shirt, lying where I’d dropped it who knows how long ago.

“What are you doing?”

“My shirt–” I was still afraid to displease him.

He laughed. “We’re not done yet.”

With a start, I realized his cock hadn’t softened. He knelt down, placed an assertive hand on my throat, and pulled me in for a kiss. I moaned into his lips and forgot my misgivings. It was so easy for him to trigger my obedience, my total compliance to his desires.

I grabbed my legs and spread them wide for him. When he sunk himself into me, I could only manage a whisper.

“Thank you, sir.”