You sure do

You're loving the sensations that chase each other through your body. Fear, excitement, humiliation and joy all mix together in an emotive cocktail that has you pussy flowering and your nectar flowing. You want this mighty cock inside you again, stretching and claiming you, making you scream in wanton pain.

The feel of his powerful hand clasping your throat is almost orgasmic, the knowledge that he controls you, holds your life in his hands bringing you pleasure unlike any you've known. You belong to him, this masked frat boy, belong to him utterly, and you would do anything to have him impale your greedy cunt again.

Your whole world is centered on the cock that fills your mouth, on the muscled torso that fills your vision. Your eyes want to roll back in your head, but you struggle to focus, fixing your eyes on a tattoo just to the left of his belly button. "Thug Life" it reads, next to a crude depiction of crossed handguns. It seems an odd tattoo for a frat boy, your cock-dazed mind thinks as you strive to swallow his dick, but it will certainly help identify him later. You just know you have to get more of this magnificent meat.

He pulls out of your mouth with an audible pop, roughly pushing you onto your back as you squeak in excitement. Before you can do more than that he's hooked his arms behind your knees, pushing your legs back until you're bent almost double, then thrusting into your sloppy cunt. He's grunting fiercely as he ruts on you, his masked face only inches from yours,

You're writhing beneath him, trying to buck against the punishing thrusts of his massive cock, your mouth open and slack, your eyes rolling in your head. If he felt big before he feels twice as big now, his thick shaft seeming to touch your heart every time he pounds it home. You're making guttural groaning noises, your breath driven out of you by his weight and his hammering cock. Your feet are kicking and trembling as you start to come, your convulsions all the more powerful for your body being compressed, your orgasms shattering your mind as he pumps you full of cream once again.

Sated for the moment, he pulls out of you and stands, letting your legs fall limp and slack. He uses a handful of your hair to wipe his cock and you shiver at the delicious feeling of degradation as he walks towards the door. You give a little sob of loss and excitement and fear as you see him at the door.

"Will you be back?" you whimper, aware of the sick sound of longing in your voice.

He pauses, that horrible mask turning to look at you for a full moment.

"Until you are bred," he finally replies with a voice like gravel being tossed into a bucket, then turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him.