Something else

When Andrew steps away from you, your knees give out. You hadn’t realized how much he had been holding you up during your orgasm.

Before you even have a chance to look up, you feel his hand grip your hair and pull back. The next thing you know, his cock, wet with your juices, pushes between your lips. You try to push against him, your hands on his hips, and scream in protest, but his hand in your hair prevents that and any sound you want to make is muffled by his cock. You’re immediately overcome with the almost salty taste of his precum.

“God, yes…” he moans, his other hand also tangling into your hair and forcing you to bob your head back and forth. As if realizing you’ve never done this before he glares down at you. “Don’t you dare use your teeth.”

Whatever you respond is muffled and makes him groan in pleasure. “That’s right…” he mutters, more to himself than you. “Keep trying to talk, Jane.” You muffle a response again and his hands tighten in your hair. “Yes..!”

His hips buck a little harder. You close your eyes tight, trying to figure out what to do with your tongue, which fights you and seems to be instinctively feeling out the texture of his penis. It was almost as if your tongue was trying to figure out what to make of this new intrusion.

“Hey!” Andrew pulls sharply at your hair, making you cry out against him. “I didn’t say you could close your eyes. Look at me.”

You do a your told, your eyes prickling with tears.

Whether the tears are because he’s practically **** your mouth, or because your jaw is feeling tight from having to stay open so wide, you’re not sure.

Whatever the cause, Andrew doesn’t seem to care.

“Damn… this is hot…” he mutters staring at your tear streaked face. “You can cry all you want,” he grunts as he thrusts into you. “I love it.”

One of his hands pulls away from your head and grips one of your wrists. He brings your hand underneath him, wrapping your fingers around his balls, all the while keeping eye contact with you.

You obey the wordless order and start caressing and massaging them. You can feel them tightening under your hand, but your mind doesn’t connect the meaning of this.

His hand goes back to tangling into your hair with his other one. A strange look enters his eyes and suddenly he become more forceful. You’ve heard Lyndsey talk about being “skull fucked” by her ex, but you never understood the phrase until now.

It’s taking everything you have not to gag on his him as he slams himself into the back of your throat, all the while keeping eye contact with you.

“God, Jane!” He grunts. “I’m coming!”