Bobby keeps you to himself

"Sorry man," your partner tells the pimp, "this bitch is a feisty one. I'm still in the progress of training her. I'd be scared she'd bite your dick off." The man looks at you, shrugs and walks away. You see him walking to a nearby table and slap a girl in the face. While she's recovering from the sudden **** he shoves her to the ground and mercilessly starts pounding her ass. Phew, dodged a bullet there, you think to yourself.

When you look back up, you see your partner looking down at you with a sadistic grin. "I want you all to myself, slut," he tells you. He picks the pace back up and starts thrusting in earnest. Not wanting to look at him while he's violating you, you close your eyes. Deciding it's probably better to make the best out of a shitty situation, you start fantasizing that it's your celebrity crush, Ryan Gosling, who is roughly fucking you and painfully pulling on your tits.

You're starting to get back into the groove when you're rudely awakened by Bobby kissing you on the mouth. Immediately he pushes his tongue into your mouth and starts swirling it around like it's a propeller. Even though you're fucking him, the kiss is weirdly intimate. Too intimate. Instinctively you bite down on the intruding body part. That was a mistake.

"Ah, you bitch," Bobby yells. He slaps you hard in the face. You can still feel the stinging hand print on your face as Bobby starts to fuck you even rougher. His thrusts are hard, fast and painful. Not just lust-filled like before, but somehow they feel angry. He spits in your face, and it lands in one of your eyes. Then he slaps you again, on the other side of your face.

Bobby smashes his lips against yours and as soon as he has wormed his tongue back into your mouth he starts exploring again. You can taste booze and smoke on him. This time you think that it is better not to protest. Bobby fucks you deep, rough and fast. It's anything but romantic or sexy, but somehow it's effective. Somehow, even through how miserable Bobby's treatment makes you feel, your body is reacting to the raw fucking you're receiving, to the feeling of being used. You pull your mouth away from Bobby's and say: "Ugh, I'm cumming."

"No, you're not," Bobby grunts. He pulls out of you and takes two handfuls of your hair. He painfully pulls your head towards his crotch and holds your head inches away from his cock. His hard cock that's glistening with your juices. He starts masturbating furiously. You know what happens next, but still can't suppress a yelp as he lets loose and fires glob after glob of warm, gooey sperm in your face. You're just in time with closing your eyes to avoid pink eye. When he's done showering you with cum, Bobby takes his cock and pushes it in your mouth for you to clean.

While you're suckling on his now softening dick you think about how mad you are at Bobby for taking advantage of you like this. With a ping of guilt you think about how you're even more mad at him for denying you your orgasm. "Stop your crying," Bobby chuckles, "you're making me hard again." You hadn't even noticed, but indeed there are a couple of tears running down your cheeks. When Bobby realizes you aren't going to react the way he was hoping, you see his expression change. For a moment you think you see something. Remorse? Guilt? But then he says: "Goddamnit, just be a professional for once." And with that he pulls his dick out of your mouth with a plopping sound and zips back up.

You stuff your boobs back into your bra and look around for your hot pants. Luckily they are bright red and glittery so you have no problem finding them on the dusty floor beneath the couch. You put them back on and wipe some of the sperm and tears out of your eyes. When you open your eyes again you see something that scares you out of the self-pity you've been feeling.

Mengucci is no longer here.