RICH BOY BRIT (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)(4)

I pulled my dress over my head (careful not to disturb the mask). Then he leaned down, lifted me, and undid my bra with one expert motion. My small, pert breasts were loose. My nipples went hard. He tweaked them casually, and then knelt down and fished a condom from his pants pocket.

“You’re well prepared,” I commented.

“You should always be well prepared,” he replied, sliding the condom onto his rock-hard cock. “You never know when you’ll meet a sexy as hell wolf, do you?”

I opened my arms to him, gesturing him. I had never wanted so badly for a man to be inside of me. Losing my virginity, and the spattering of experiences after that, were nothing compared with this. I had never felt such heat, such intensity. My arms and legs, my hands, my feet, my breasts, my nipples, my clit and deep inside my pussy—all of it ached. All of it begged to be touched by the lion. He fell atop my, bracing his arms around either side of my head. I reached up and grabbed his muscles, feeling the curvature of them, how they bulged. He was built like a quarterback, tight and honed and muscular.

The lion looked into my eyes. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

His cock slid into my pussy. It was so huge that all I felt for the first few minutes was a white-hot pain. He thrust into me slowly, opening my pussy, and then it got used to him and spread. It opened for his cock, and then the pain was replaced with pleasure, a deep pleasure that sent hot tendrils throughout my body. I gripped his arms harder, digging my fingernails in. “Fuck me hard,” I squeaked. “Fuck me hard.”

The lion’s gaze turned to my breasts, his breath coming quick, his cock deep inside of me. And then he began to pound me. He forced his cock deep inside of me, pounding me hard, in and out, in and out so fast that I couldn’t distinguish any single movement. All I felt was burning. My pussy was on fire. That was how it felt, like everything below my waist was engulfed in flames. I never knew fucking could feel so damn good.

I lifted my legs, pointed my toes, and bounced up and down no his huge cock. He fucked me hard. Sweat covered both of us, dripping from his muscular pecs onto my breasts, but I didn’t care. We were two animals, fucking madly. I moved my hands from his arms to his back, which was as muscled as the rest of him, and dragged my fingernails down his skin.

“Yes,” he moaned. “Fuck, yes.”

His voice was like a trigger. When I heard it, something fired inside of me. His cock pounded into my sweet spot, each thrust jolting heat through me. My pussy went super-tight around his cock, so tight that I could feel him forcing past the tightness to keep fucking me. I had never squirted before—I didn’t even know I could—but I did then. My head became heavy and I clamped my eyes shut and buried my face in his sweaty chest, pressing the wolf mask against his skin, and I squirted all over his huge, hard cock. He kept pounding me as I came, my screams muffled by the mask and his chest, and then he grabbed my throat, choking me.

He released me for a short second. “Do you like it like that?” he breathed.

I had never tried it like that, but the idea of the lion grabbing me, choking me, turned me on even more. “Yes,” I nodded. “Do it.”

He grabbed my throat and I was utterly helpless. His cock moved fast, pounding me, and then I came again. I came hard, so hard that I didn’t even realize that he was coming, too, until afterward, until he rolled to the side and lay on his back.

I leaned up in the bed, sober now, my limbs aching, panting like after a ten-mile run.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” the lion said matter-of-factly. It didn’t have the ingratiating, flattering tone that other men would use when saying something like that. He really meant it, I felt.

“Me, too,” I said honestly.

We said little else. When we dressed, we kept our masks on. Neither of us asked for the other’s name. I think we both knew that that would ruin it. This night had been something magical. Knowing who the lion was, knowing who the wolf was, would break the magic.





Eli



The morning after I met the wolf woman, with her perky breasts and her amazing figure, with her tight, hot pussy and her amazing ass which I could not get out of my head, I got a text from my mom saying she wanted to meet. I really could not get this woman out of my head. I’d booked the hotel room so I didn’t have to travel through the city at night when I was drunk, but I’d never imagined having amazing sex like that with a complete stranger. My nose was filled with the scent of her perfume, which was a curious and beautiful mixture of fresh-cut grass and rain.

Before meeting Mom, I checked out of the hotel and rode the bus to my apartment in the center of the city. I was a second-year at Bristol University (I had left the halls and the animal-like living behind, mostly) and now rented a one-bedroom slap-bang in the middle of Bristol. I showered and changed, my lion mask atop my wardrobe in case I needed it again. Breakfast was a quick bowl of cereal and a huge mug of coffee to fight away the mild hangover.

I never learned her name. That was what got me the most. I had spent a night with this woman without ever learning her name. It was horrible. I needed to know her name. I needed to know her. She was easily the best sex I’d ever had. When I’d told her that, I’d meant it. I was usually pretty calm, pretty laid back. I didn’t go crazy with anxiety when I had to give presentations at university, like some of my classmates did, and I wasn’t squeamish about talking to women. But when I thought of the wolf woman, I felt like a boy at a school disco. My palms became sweaty and I found myself staring at the floor.