I’ve never seen a cock in real life, aside from some unsolicited dick pics. Or some porn—don’t judge, I was curious.
But I knew those porn stars’ dicks didn’t reflect reality.
However, Creighton is totally porn-star level. Both in girth and length. Now, I’m having second thoughts about my earlier plans.
His index and middle finger slip beneath my jaw, lifting it, trapping me in the darkness of his eyes. “You going to wrap these lips around my cock and let me choke your pretty throat with my cum, little purple?”
Holy shit.
My heart jacks up in speed. He’s supposed to be silent, so how come he has the best dirty talk?
“Have you deep-throated another cock before, Annika? Have you let another prick fuck your mouth and turn your lips all swollen?”
My thighs clench together.
Seriously, he needs to stop talking like this. My actions are supposed to be about him, but I’m the one who’s getting shamelessly wet.
“Answer the question.”
“No, it’s…my first.” Like it’s his first.
I know because once, we played ‘never have I ever’ with everyone else, and he admitted to never having his dick sucked. A fact that made Remi throw a dramatic fit.
Ever since then, I think I’ve secretly fantasized about being the first girl to give him a blowjob.
Especially now that I realize he’s probably never allowed himself to receive oral because it takes away his control.
But he’s not stopping me now.
If anything, he’s watching me with fiery eyes and a lust-filled expression.
The fingers that were beneath my jaw push against my lips. “Open.”
I do, and he glides his middle and ring fingers all the way inside. He pushes them against my tongue, smears them with my saliva over and over.
I start to gag, spluttering around them.
“Breathe. If you can’t handle my fingers, how will you take my cock?”
I use his eyes as an anchor as I inhale through my nose. Slowly, the pressure eases and I lick his fingers. A low humming sound falls from his lips as he wraps his other hand around mine that’s on his cock.
Then he uses my grip to slide it up and down his length in a twisting motion, making me jerk him off. “Don’t just lick. Be a good girl, and use your tongue between my fingers.”
I do tentative thrusts between his fingers and quicken my rhythm. The more he releases pleasure sounds, the harder I go. My head turns dizzy from the overstimulation, and my thighs become so wet that I wish I could reach a hand down to touch myself.
Creighton pulls his fingers from between my lips and from around my hand. “Put my cock in your mouth.”
My lips wrap around his length, his authoritativeness adding heat and tension to the act. But my mouth is so small that I struggle. And he enjoys that, judging by the light sparkling in his ocean blue eyes.
I do as he taught me with his fingers, though they don’t compare to his monster cock. I breathe deeply, trying not to gag, and I lick the sides over and over.
He groans and my pulse picks up. Is it normal that I’m soaking my panties at the thought of his arousal?
That I want to deepen that look in his eyes, to trap it, and make sure I’m the only one he gives it to?
Creighton slides his fingers in my hair, fists it and wraps it around his hand, then stands.
I stare up at him as his other hand strokes my face with a sinister edge. “So beautiful and innocent, my little purple. So…breakable.”
My body goes rigid, but I still try to lick, to prove that I can give him pleasure the same as he can give me.
“I’m going to fuck your face until you choke on my cock. This might hurt.”
He thrusts his length all the way in and I gag, for real this time. I’m not ready for the onslaught of his power, for the way he’s using me like I’m a fuckable hole.
Tears sting my eyes and I’m not sure if it’s because of that realization, the suffocation, or the wetness smearing my thighs.
He uses his merciless hold on my hair as he thrusts in and out of my mouth. I choke and splutter, tears, drool, and precum trickling down my chin.
The erotic sound of his in-and-out mixes with the violent waves and crashes against my rib cage.
Creighton can’t feel pleasure without inflicting pain, so the more I gag and cry, the deeper he groans.
The harder he goes.
The more twisted he becomes.
This is so screwed up, but I must be as deviant as he is, because the further he takes it, the more brutal he gets, and the wetter I become.
He goes on and on, each of his thrusts like a direct stimulation to my starved core. Then when I think I’ll come from being deep-throated, a salty taste explodes all over my tongue.