Dreams of 18(84)

I shake my head, eating my candy like a greedy girl.

But then, I stop sucking. I stop swirling my tongue over it, chasing my own taste, and bite down on it, instead.

Because he enters me in one push.

I don’t even know when he snapped the condom on – probably when I was still delirious from his candy fucking – and now, he gets all the way inside of me in one easy stroke, taking away all my breaths and all the emptiness that I was feeling.

Then he throws my thighs over his arms and pushes them back into my body.

My pussy feels even tighter like this. With my legs thrown over my ears and my sneakers up in the air. The laces are undone and flutter around us, swaying in and out of my vision and somehow, it makes me even hornier.

“Your pussy tastes like she’s mine,” he finally finishes his thought from before and I moan around my lollipop.

He draws his shaft back and out before shoving it inside again, punctuating it with his dirty words. “I want her on tap, your cunt. I want your tight, teenage cunt on tap, baby.”

Another drive of his cock, followed by another moan of mine at how good he stretches me.

“And I want to fill her with lollipops. I want to fuck her with them. And then, I want you to suck on that pussy-flavored candy while I fuck you with my cock and blow my load all over you.”

At this, I moan the loudest. I even pop the pussy-flavored candy out of my mouth to tell him, “Yes, you can have her. You can have all of her. All of me. I’m your slut. Your whore. Your everything. I’m yours, Graham.”

His expression shifts.

It becomes even fiercer and sharper. More than even last night when he took my virginity. In fact, it’s the sharpest and most ruthless I’ve ever seen and I know what it is.

Or what it looks like.

It looks like love.

This dream-maker, dream-causer, dream-weaver of a thing that I want to grab with both my hands. I want to grab that look and never let go. Never lose it. Never do anything to jeopardize it.

I never want him to stop looking at me like that. Like he’s in love with me.

A second later, he pops the candy out of my mouth and throws it away before kissing the fuck out of me.

Before fusing our bodies together and slamming his cock into me. Pounding and ramming and beating up my horny channel as he fucks me. Plows into me like a beast.

It’s even more intense than last night. The way he’s riding my pussy.

His strokes are harder and more powerful. More possessive. Like his need for me only increased after he had one taste of me.

Like he wants me even more now. Like he needs me more.

He needs me so much that he can’t control himself.

He slams into me over and over, slapping our flesh together, smacking my ass with his pelvis. He drives into me with such ferocity that my legs go all the way back and hit the wall. The headboard hits the wall too.

It’s like he’s trying to find something inside of me. He’s trying to find a thing he wants, a place he wants even, so he can live there.

His hips work double time as he pounds my pussy and searches for this elusive thing.

And it’s so good, so fucking wonderful that I grab onto his ass and make him go harder. I make him go deeper than before. I make him stretch me out more, stretch me out so much that I never feel empty.

That I never feel hollow and lonely. That he finds whatever he wants and takes it from me and keeps it for himself. Keeps me for himself, even.

Because unlike him, I feel it for real.

I feel this love for real. This need to be his and his only.

This need for him to look at me like this. Like he’s drowning in me.

In fact, he gets his arms out from under my legs so he can clutch my face with them, with his hands like yesterday. But the way he’s digging the pads of his fingers in my cheeks and my scalp is so much more intense and dominating than last night.

There’s an urgency in him, in the way he’s holding me. Like I’m his lifeline. Like I’m the thing he’s losing himself in but at the same time, I’m the very thing that’s going to save him, as well.

I would think about it more if not for his cock. If not for him fucking me, driving into my body that my tits jiggle, my teeth clatter and my whole soul shakes.

And all the while he’s staring at me.

He pushes and pushes into me. Pushes into my snug channel, made snugger because my legs are thrown up by my ears.

But see, they’re not as stable as they were before when he had his strong, sweaty arms under them, keeping them straight and pulling them taut.

So he finds another way.

He stops and pants, “Hold onto your laces.”

I’m reluctant to let go of his ass but I know what he means. Even through the lusty fog, I know he’s asking me to grab onto my fluttering shoelaces because he wants me tighter.

And I want that too.

I want to be nice and tight for him that I feel every inch of his thick cock.

So I do it.

I hold onto the laces of my sneakers so my pussy is nice and tight for him.

So my pussy grips him and keeps him inside of me as he fucks me and fucks me.

Until that look in his eyes, that fake love blows up. It explodes into this big, huge thing that feels so real and amazing and wonderful and heartbreaking that I come.

I clench around his cock and his drives become rough and haphazard.

He jerks and twitches, his body slipping over mine with the sweat, the friction we’ve created. And then, he comes too.