Urge him to cum

You decide Mr. Crassle's swelling cockhead feels too good just inside your pussy to demand he pull his cock all the way out. You want to feel him cum, not get hosed down like a porno girl.

"Don't stop," you pant as he strokes his shaft.

"But...?"

You stare at him, your eyes burning with passion.

"Don't you dare stop," you say, and throw your legs back against your chest.

The position smooshes the juicy lips of your pussy together around the head of his cock. Your mixing juices are spilling out of your pussy around his cockhead, lubricating his shaft and spilling across your asshole.

"I'm going to cum," he warns.

"Keep jerking that cock," you tell him, holding your legs behind the knees so your bare, swollen lips are like a mouth sucking the head of his cock.

"Fuck," he groans.

You can feel his prick swelling even more. The head feels huge inside you. His fist works the shaft with a nasty wet sound. The air inside the car is hot and thick with the smell of your mutual juices.

"Let me feel it," you moan. "Come on Mr. Crassle. Doesn't that pouty little teenage pussy make you want to cum?"

"Aahhhhhhh," he cries

"That's it," you encourage him, "let me feel-"

His cock erupts inside your molten tunnel, spewing powerful bursts of hot cum that you feel burning up as it pumps into your teenage cunt.

"Yessss!" you scream.

"Ohhh fuck!" Crassle cries, jerking his shaft into your hungry hole, draining his balls into your pussy.

Each spurt of his jizz pours down your inner walls, coating you and filling you with his liquid love. At last he finishes, his cock drooling white cum and the head connected to your pussy by strands of jizz. You reach down beneath your leg, cupping your hand just above your asshole and squeezing with inner muscles.

"Oh yeah, baby, let me see it," he says, realizing what you are doing.

You squeeze out his load into your palm. The hot, white liquid slips out of your pink pussy and fills your cupped hand.

"It's so much," you admire, sitting up and looking at the cum in your hand.

He offers you a napkin from the glove box. You hold your cupped hand to your lips and look him in the eye as you drink his load. It's thick and warm and salty. You lick the little gooey gobs clinging to the creases of your hand. You stick out your tongue and run it over your fingers.

After the cum-drinking show you share a brief kiss and then the passion fades. You are both eager to be dressed and return to the party. You're a bit sweaty and red-faced as you waltz back into the lounge. You see Sara and a friend talking quietly near the bar. She waves to you and you grin.

"I have returned," you say with a smile.

Sara smiles back and smooths a few strands of your hair back into place. She doesn't ask why you're a bit red-faced and sweaty, but when Crassle enters looking the same way the solution to the mystery is obvious to anyone paying attention.

"I'm glad you survived," Sara jokes. "We can mingle some more if you'd like or get started on that tour."