She sits up to watch

She propped herself up on her elbows, her ponytail swinging behind her in her effort to sit up in time to watch as I lined it up.

The second I pushed forward, she gasped. Her pussy took me in, inch by inch, and her elbows buckled beneath her.

Her head hit the desk with a soft, dull thud, and she let out a strangled sound as her back arched. Both hands flew up to her chest, cupping and squeezing, her thumbs rolling over her nipples, drawn so tight they seemed impossibly small against the swell of her modest breasts.

“F-fuck,” she breathed, trembling. “That’s it. Just like that…”

I groaned as I sank deeper, and the sensation were nearly overwhelming. She was tight. Tighter than any girl I’d had. Even after watching her spread open on my tongue, seeing it up close, there was simply no preparing for the way she felt as I pushed through the tight walls. And those walls clung to me, warm and slick, pulsing in slow, chaotic flutters that made my knees lock.

It felt just as small as it had looked when I’d been eye-level with her, watching her little pussy tense and quiver while my mouth worked her over. I remembered how narrow she’d looked then, how her body had opened just barely for my tongue, her folds flushed and glistening, her entrance twitching each time she moaned.

Now, wrapped around me, she felt impossibly snug. As if she wasn’t built to take me fully, and her body was trying anyway.

My hands stayed firm on her thighs, keeping her pulled flush against me. Her legs shook where they rested on my shoulders, with the panties still tangled at her calves.

“Jesus,” I muttered, grinding in deeper, feeling her body stretch and pulse around every inch. “You weren’t kidding…”

She didn’t answer. Her hands were still at her chest, clutching her breasts as her writhed beneath me, head turned to the side, with her lips parted but silent, and already completely wrecked.

I started to move slowly at first, trying to find a rhythm, but each thrust was met with the impossible resistance of her tightening around me. Every inch felt like a fight, as her body clung to me in waves. I gritted my teeth, holding onto her thighs as they trembled with each push.

Suddenly she shifted. One leg slid from my shoulder, only to swing to the other. Her ankles crossed high at one side, forcing her thighs to squeeze tighter around my dick, nearly trapping me.

“Come on and hate fuck me, Mr. Holloway. Show me how mad you are to be buried balls deep in my pussy,” she groaned, while clenching down on me.

The results were immediate.

“Fuck,” I groaned, and clenched my jaw at her challenge as the new pressure drove me to thrust harder into her. The tension, the way her thighs pressed against my stomach as I held her to me, there was no give.

My control had snapped.

My hands shot forward, pushing her own from her chest without a second thought. I cupped her breasts roughly, spreading my fingers wide as I palmed the whole of them and squeezed. There was no gentleness in the way I groped her. Her nipples were still taut, impossibly small in my grip, and I rolled them between my fingers until she gasped.

She reached blindly, arms flailing for a moment before her palms slapped against the desk. It was no use, the surface was too smooth with nothing to grab, nothing to hold onto. Her hips jerked with every thrust.

Finally, her arms folded, and she dug her fingers into her own shoulders, clutching tight just to satisfy the need of her hands’ **** reflex to grab at something.

“Oh my god,” she whimpered, barely able to breathe between the jolts of sensation. “Don’t stop– don’t you fucking stop!”

I watched her fall apart beneath me, twitching and arching, and barely holding it together. Her ankles stayed locked at my shoulder, with every thrust dragging a strangled breath from her throat.

“Jesus Christ,” I panted, unable to stop watching the way her breasts moved under my grip. “You’re so fucking tight… How are you this tight with the way you fuck around?”

She couldn’t answer. Her head just rolled side to side against the desk, with glassy eyes.

“You feel unreal,” I growled, driving into her harder now, my disbelief becoming an obsession. “God… thank fuck she sent you that picture.”

That pulled a moan from her, and made her gasp.

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