Homewrecker (18+)

Chapter 12

I haven't been able to orgásm in two weeks. Two weeks. Two. Weeks.

It was the day before I was to leave on the plane with Teresa, and I was naked and currently straddling a man with brown, shoulder-length hair and a murderous glint in his eyes. He was hot, nonetheless, and I should be fearful and hórny and not having to fake my moans, but here I was.

I was breathless, but not because I was falling head over heels for this man, or that he was so hot I was to orgásm on the spot. No- that can only happen with Mr. Rossi. I was breathless because I was being fúcked and that was the only reason, sadly. Or rather, I was the one fúcking him while he lays on his back and enjoys the view.

I wanted my pússy stretched around a certain someone's thick cóck, not a stranger I came across in the back of a pizza parlor who wouldn't stop looking at me. Though, masturbating alone felt quite lonely, and my fingers were constantly growing tired. It didn't take a genius to know that a lot of men would be willing to do the job for me.

Needless to say, he was rather excited when I sashayed over to him and squeezed his thigh. My age was nothing but a number- he was grateful to fúck a young girl with such a fresh and soft body. Nobody needed to know about it- being a minor was simply irrelevant.

I raised myself up and back down again, his length filling me fully, though my mind was far too occupied to even enjoy what was happening. I eyed the stack of three twenty dollar bills he'd placed on the bedside table.

Faking a moan, I squeezed my eyes shut and let his large hands squeeze my bottom as he rather forcefully lifted me up and brought me back down again on his cóck, my aśs being pulled and pushed together with his hands.

I accidentally let out a sigh, and then covered it up by moaning again. He didn't seem to notice.

Didn't want to scratch his ego- the man seemed to be having a great time.

"Baby," I murmured as I gathered my messy hair and draped it over one side. Standing up on the cheap hotel bed, my feet on each side of him, my pússy now abandoned from company, I jumped off. "Let's try something different, hm?"

I felt his eyes on my aśs as I jumped, which I felt jiggle and assumed was covered in the red marks he created. Men love to look at a woman after they've fúcked her, especially with red marks and cúm and bruises. It's as though they're admiring artwork they've finished.

"You are so fúcking sexy," he murmured hoarsely, getting off the bed himself, his long cóck erect and glistening. "Such a good girl."

I walked over to the wall adjacent to the bed, my bottom jiggling as I did so, his eyes pelting bullets of obvious arousal into my skin. Bending down slightly, my palms pressed against the wall, I spread my legs apart and looked down at the floor.

"Come on," I spoke, wiggling my body. "All for you."

And then, like a dog running to his master for a bone, the man pressed a hand against his cóck, spread my aśs once again, and shoved himself inside of my tight cúnt, uncontrolled breaths escaping my clenched jaw, my fingernails scraping against the wall.

A constellation of repeated names such as "sexy little girl, dirty slút," and more were grunted through his moans, though I learned to lock up my sensitivity when it came to it. It was almost like they had an urge to say it.

After several minutes, I felt his body jerk and shift, and he pulled out of me. His rough hands twisted my body around, and he came apart, his ejaculatión decorating my bare stomach in splatters.