Teach Me Dirty(100)

“God, Helen…” I was going to ask her to do it again but she didn’t need asking. She clenched and squeezed and my cock was straining. “Jesus!”

She giggled again.

“You think this is funny, Helen Palmer?”

She squeezed me again and pushed onto me and the tightness gave a little. I was inside, past the muscle, gripped tight by my sweet little angel.

“Not funny,” she hissed, “just f*cking dirty… sir. It feels like… it feels like I’m… you know.”

I knew what she meant. “Do it again,” I said, “push me out.”

No hesitation. She strained against me and tightened and I allowed her to push my cock all the way out.

“Fuck!” she cried out. “Yes… oh God yes.”

“You’re a dirty girl, Helen Palmer.”

She looked back at me, eyes dark, hooded, a salacious grin on her face. “I’m your dirty girl, sir. Fuck me!”

“My pleasure, Helen. My f*cking pleasure.”

She cried out as I pushed in deep, and she was so tight that I nearly shot my load in one thrust. I swore under my breath, and her tender squirming only exasperated the situation. I was twitchy inside her, my balls hot and tight and ready to f*cking explode.

I moved my hips so gently, delicate thrusts in and out until she was panting.

“Fuck… oh, Mark… f*ck…”

“Does it feel good?”

She moaned and nodded her head. “So f*cking good…”

“That’s my girl.” I thrust steadily, inching in and out. “I’m going to come in your tight little ass, Helen. I’m going to shoot my load so f*cking deep.”

“Harder…” she hissed. “I want it harder, like you said, hard and fast…”

She cried out as I lost my restraint, whimpering as I f*cked her deep, but it didn’t take long for the pain to morph into something so much better. Her hands flew out and grabbed the edge of the table and she mewled and whimpered and her body rippled as I slammed into her.

I slammed and thrust until my skin made wet slapping noises against hers and still she cried out for more. It was bliss, a perfect meeting of flesh, and I grunted and growled and pinned her hard.

“I’m on the f*cking edge,” I yelled. “Right on the f*cking edge.”

She yelped and shuddered and cried out with every thrust and her ass sucked at me, pulled at me, drew me all the way in and out in perfect harmony… “Fuck, Helen… Fuck.” And I was gone, pounding her deep as I exploded inside her. She took it all, took all of me.

I shivered the most glorious shiver as I came down, my cock spasming inside. My heavy breathing matched hers, calming in sync as my cock slipped away from her.

I touched my forehead to her back, held her, kissed her damp skin.

“So,” I said. “What do you think?”

Her ass shimmied under me, a soft giggle teased my senses.

“I think I’m a dirty girl, Mr Roberts, sir.”





Helen



Mr Roberts taught me dirty.

He taught my ass to take his cock, and my mouth to open wide for him. He taught my clit how to come for him, over and over again. He taught me where my g-spot is, and how much I enjoy his weight crushing mine.

He taught me the sensation of metal cuffs on skin. The blissful pain of wax, and teeth, and swollen tender flesh.

He taught me to display my naked body with pride.

He taught me how wonderful it feels to be kissed from head to toe and back again.

He taught me the pleasure of tangled limbs and slow, deep sex in the mornings.

He taught me how to scream, and how to call his name like it’s the only word in creation.

Mr Roberts taught me so much dirty, and I loved every single lesson.

But he also taught me so much more.



Mr Roberts taught me how to make croissants from scratch for breakfast.

He taught me to mimic the hoot of an owl with hollow palms and quick breaths.

He taught me how to prepare an open fire so that it lit quickly and lasted forever. Taught me winter shrubs in the garden. Taught me how good it feels to walk barefoot on frosty grass in the morning sun with his warm hand in mine.

He taught me to slow dance to cheesy old songs.

He taught me how to stretch the perfect canvas.

He taught me that the greatest companionship can be found in comfortable silence… or just the simplest of touches.

He taught me that the mundane little things in life can really be the most magical of all.

He taught me how to love completely, and how it feels to be loved completely.

And I loved him that much.

I loved him so much.

Oh God, I loved him with every single part of me.

It broke my heart in the most beautiful way to leave him on Christmas morning.

***

I’d promised my parents that I’d be home on Christmas Day. And then I’d promised them I’d be home in time to open my presents with Katie at stupid o’clock in the morning.

Mark woke me well before stupid o’clock. He woke me with kisses on my cheeks and a big bright smile, and an apple and an orange and a lump of coal.

I laughed.

“Tradition,” he said. “We’re creating new traditions every day.”