Amber
Perfectionism was her poison; willingly drunk from the chalice of defeat that created her anxiety.
But it was those flaws that led to the connection with her soulmates—their eyes had bled with the warmth and love that she so dearly missed. Her pain was her humanity, it was a door to her inner world and thus it was the union of their broken hearts.
Amber knew exactly how Hikaru's outburst would go. He would rush in through the door with cold stung cheeks, and they would circle him— a confused crowd of panicked, quivering bodies. Then he would talk about what she'd said, possibly more dramatized. Perhaps, a tad different, but good enough to give them the gist of her story; good enough to transfer the broken parts of herself into their hearts. Good enough to act as arrows pierced into their unwilling flesh, blood will spill in the form of tears.
They should be sad.
It felt better knowing that they'd feel like shit; that there would be regret and guilt on their faces. That they would wait at home for her, trembling and worried about what she might think of them. Some couldn't endure the wait, and she could feel it from the way her phone buzzed in her pocket, trembling against her ass with their essays in her messaging apps. Essays that she would read later because she didn't want to read them now.
Let them wait and let them fear.
The taste of vengeance was bittersweet—a concoction that her heart relished with smacked lips and licked fingers. She was disgustingly pleased because in her head they deserved to feel every ounce of pain that she felt; and in her head, she hoped that Rumiko was screaming her little lungs out and wailing like her life depended on it.
Show them no mercy, only pain.
She hoped that they would suffer in her absence, stand in her shoes for just long enough for the ocean of reality caressed their cheeks and threatened to suffocate them. It never would, of course it wouldn't with a team of six able bodied men, but at the very least they would sink in the muddy waters of guilt. At the very least, they would be filled with anxiety and trepidation.
Amber was at fault too for not voicing out what she truly wanted. Her lips curled, teeth biting upon the flesh until pain unfurled upon the surface coaxing her back to reality. The exhale that followed was breathless. All the wrong words and all the wrong tones had been used throughout her postpartum journey, rookie mistakes and bad decisions that could have been avoided.
That and the fucked up need that churned between the apex of her whenever her baby sucked her nipples all wrong. Her soulmates weren't wrong, she too had expected a dry spell after giving birth especially with a child like Rumiko.
Amber should be married to her bed, begging for sleep. She should be wanting nothing else but her monster of a baby on her boobs. Hell, what she should be according to the rest of the goddamn world was a woman obsessed with her daughter.
But instead, her damned thighs had squeezed together for relief, and her clit had thrummed throughout the night despite her sleep addled mind. Her body had shivered and craved for touch; her soul was begging for love that it could not get from her daughter. And she wanted—no—she dreamt about fucking: deep raw sex with a cock that filled and emptied her, and a body that burned and melted against her skin.
She'd once bounced Rumiko on her hips, eyes glazed, lips parted as she stared at the wall thinking about the past, illusions of the filthy things she'd done. She stopped because of her baby, but she continued, zombie-like in the shower with her fingers toying at her clit and her knuckles buried in her pussy. No orgasm was achieved because the baby cried for her. There was no time to take care of herself.
She didn't do it often, masturbation. No sane person would with a baby that screamed every five minutes, there was no time to take care of her pleasure adequately. But her mind would wander off as she went through with her mundane but exhausting tasks, and she did think about it sometime. Her eyes would drift to her soulmates' groin, subconsciously craving for their love.
Her freedom from her child should be spent sleeping, but instead she wanted sex. She wanted kisses that were more than chaste sweetness, she wanted raw carnality and not intimacy. They loved her, she knew that. She knew that. She knew that. And yet it wasn't enough.
Because Amber was a horny idiot and nothing like the other mothers of the world. And now she had the perfect situation, a blessed opportunity to fuck the kinkiest soulmate of the group. And dear God, was she a sinner for the bubbling pops of euphoric anticipation that grazed her skin and pounded thick like a drug in her heart?
Amber wanted nothing more than to be pushed down and fucked like the animal she was, ravaged and filled until her insides could only remember him, and her body burned with the imprints of his hands. No words just emotions, just lust, just love.
She stumbled on the steps and large hands caught her lower back, steadying her body. In response, her neck prickled from the heat of Casper's gaze on her skin, watchful and ever so sensitive of her emotions. He held her close but yet not close enough. And her eyes danced up his skin, moving to settle on his face.
He was grateful for her choice, and he made that clear with the rainbows that sparked in his eyes, spurts of a bond that was beginning to return as electric heat fizzled in the air between them.
She inhaled, relishing the clean, beautiful scent of linen and soap, then groaned low in her throat at the sexy musk that was all him. A scent that stained his cock and was tasted most deeply when his slit tickled her tonsils. And then she wondered how long had it been since she'd had the time to even think about how delicious his smell was and how much her pussy quivered in his presence.
Criminal would be a good word to use to describe exactly how smouldering hot Casper was— breath-taking with his honeyed tanned skin, and then a handsome face destined for an erotic mafia trope but was all sweet fluff when dimpled and full of smiles. He wasn't smiling now as he pulled her closer, his eyes reading her every move, dark could be dangerous if she didn't know him.
Casper didn't know what she truly wanted, he wasn't sure how much and he wasn't sure why.
Her eyes crinkled; lips twitched as she pulled him up the steps. And still his hand remained on her lower back, rubbing slow smooth circles as they approached the door. Slow, too slow. Too hesitant, too many questions. Too many what ifs. The stain of his thumb on her skin was faltered, not hard enough and not confident enough.
Restrain was in his every move.
They stood under neon lights and the shadow of buildings climbing with mould, the cold whistling in their hair and the space glowing a deep blue. He seemed to wait, burning with confusion yet fizzling with heat. His eyes that glowed and shimmered in the darkness, were twisting into solid smouldering gold that lit her skin on fire.
Her belly fluttered, clit pulsed, and heart pounded. The spark was always there covered in layers of responsibility but as they stood outside of the unmanned building, the flames began to spiral within them. A thrum of desire bounced between their eyes. Her every step was another metaphoric lightbulb turned on in his head. Yet the questions remained even as they stood at the door.
Are you sure?
She didn't want to talk and when he tried to kill the embers with an open mouth and stammered words about talking and cuddling. She silenced him with a slam of her thumb on the neon buttons, choosing an average time and an average room. And before he could pull out his famous black card, she had her cheaper plastic jammed into the machine, sliced smoothly through the paywall. It beeped loud in their quiet and his breath was exhaled, shaky and sweet.
A key card slipped from the slit of the automated box.
His eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, understanding dawned. She didn't want to talk because tonight he was hers. And she'd paid for his time, not him. A strangely symbolic act in a place of sin. She would have her fill of him until dawn and they would run away from reality until they couldn't run no more.
Casper
She didn't want to talk.
She didn't speak when they entered the love hotel, one that was decently reputable and not too expensive. But he was paranoid enough to fiddle with the back of the doors in their room and the slotted spaces where spy cameras could be placed. He found none.
There was a nervous stutter in his throat when she moved into the space to inspect it. And the stutter remained even when his cock twitched in his pants and throbbed harder as she ran her hands over conveniently designed sex furniture, leading to an intense zing of filth that squeezed tight in his chest.
What did she want?
It was a foolish question considering their location. But the possibilities and permutations of her needs, and the options and choices he could make were far too many and her wordless actions told him nothing but sex. His breath caught when she stepped out of the shower, steaming from her bath.
There was nothing sexual in the way she dressed, but the darkness of her hair, wet and the fluff of her robes over naked skin had something hiding within him slithering to the surface. He wondered if she knew how much he wanted to see her with his cum smeared all over her face, soaking with her fluids twitching upon the bed with her legs spread. Her eyes wet with pleasurable tears, and her skin red from his deranged touch.
But it wasn't about him tonight, it was about her and how she wanted to use him.
He didn't know whether to turn the shower hot or cold when he stood under the spray, cock in his fist, aching and blossoming red at the head. Then his fingers moved down the silver of piercings: bars and a ring that was thick at the head. He shivered when he tugged at it, his penis spurting with beads of his pleasure. The excitement made his legs shake harder.
Oh God, he needed her so damn much.
He entered the room expecting to kiss her, ready to tongue her slit and suckle the powerhouse between her legs. Oral sex was an act that he genuinely enjoyed and was looking forward to with the prospect of hearing her shake and whimper under his mouth. But his heart flew when he found her with a hand between her legs, already ready before he could begin.
She was masturbating
Her fingers flicked and twisted, thumbs rubbing at the fleshy pearl. Her back was arched, her eyes glazed and just as dewy as her skin. She was burning pink with heat and her naked generous breast was crushed against her palm with unbridled pleasure, milk dripping down her body in response.
And between thick lower lips oozed a silky liquid that glistened and dripped down dusted peach skin. The palm left her breast, wet with milk as it slipped into her pussy, three fingers all at once. Then four, too quickly, too rapidly, too desperately.
She was preparing herself for him.
The raspy chocolate sweet moan that escaped her lips was a caress from the Goddess of Love upon his very soul. And then her eyes moved to his, filthy as it rolled upwards through her orgasm, earth shattering as she quaked and heaved, turning over to curl into her pleasure, absorbing the shivers as she held herself.
He was stupid for waiting so long. They were all fucking idiots. His lips curled, growl erupting from his chest raw and animalistic. This was her when they rejected her advances. This was her in the deep of the night cumming with her own fingers instead of the seven men that stood beyond her door. This was pleasure that they wanted to see but refused to only because they thought she didn't need it.
How many nights had she spent alone with her fingers on her clit?
How many times had he missed the chance to taste her pleasure?
Why didn't they know?
The realisation that they'd all been masturbating alone despite the paper-thin wall that stood in their way was a rippling pounce of unforgiving disappointment on his chest. It was a different kind of pain that hit him, one that pierced his gut and burned bitter inside.
He went to her in quick strides. He was so fast that his body swept towards hers in a blur, moving to spread her legs apart through her orgasm. He couldn't help himself as he pulled her ass up into the air, cunt against his face, belly folding into soft curves.
His lips latched upon her clit—soft and silky wet as it throbbed against his tongue to the beat of her heart. She screamed, bucking against his mouth, but he continued, licking as if his whole world depended on it. As if she were his salvation, and as if his only goal in life was to bring her to an orgasm that had her thighs shaking and cum squirting over his face.
Her whimpered notes turned into raspy pants as her sensitivity morphed into an elongated slope towards pleasure. Her groans were a heavenly song to his cock that bounced on his belly, tall and thick with want. It slapped as he moved, body curled as he licked and fucked her with his fingers until her legs were kicking and her fists were clenching against sheets.
So desperate, so receptive and so damn eager to orgasm.
It was exhilarating when his digits, so much larger and longer than hers breached and stroked at the spongey curved mass of her cervix. He found space in her sticky walls, drenched in her fluids as he curled his hands upwards against the rough spots that made her quiver.
He grounded against it, thrusted his fingers in hard with the knowledge that she loved it. He knew that from the slams of her fists against the bed and the wild buck of her body as she rode his fingers and then his tongue.
She was insatiable and a meal to his salivating cock. He smiled licking his lips as he kissed her inner thigh. Her breath was warm and shaky when it left her, shakier when he found the rhythmic pattern that made her sing. He went faster and then harder, and her body undulated and curved.
She didn't want to talk, she wanted to cum.
Her orgasm came quicker than he expected, her legs clamped around his head forcing him to sink nose deep against the thatch of curls between her legs that stank of good apples and a beautiful woman. He was choked against her cunt, tongue swirling and prodding at the hooded bundle that made her turn mad with lust.
And in delicious response she thrashed against him, pelvis lifted as high as her body could go. The warm sticky wetness squirted from her pussy, threatening to drown him in her fluids. It spilled down her skin, ruining the clean sheets, drenching his cheeks, noisy and filled with her pleasure. She came hard, arms wrapped so tight around herself that milk dribbled from her lactating breasts
There were pleas from her lips, messy and thick with her pleasure as it dribbled from her mouth in a filthy mess of drool. She pooled at his knees, shivering through the explosion as her soul left her body and then was restored by the little death that only he could give her.
La petite mort.
The knowledge of what he'd done filled him with horror. His eyes widened as his fingers splayed over the scar of her surgery, moved down her belly to feel for blood. The concern shocked him; the distraction was enough for his cock to wilt. But only just a little with the smell of her cum in his nose and the taste of her pussy on his tongue.
"Are you ok—"
Amber slammed the concern down with an angry growl that was followed by a glare that startled him. She lifted herself up, wrapped her knees around his waist, eyes boring into his soul. And for a brief heated moment they were locked in a battle, watching and waiting for the other to speak.
But she squinted, observed him for a second. Then smiled. Her grin grew Cheshire like, head tilted, eyes wide and thumb to her bottom lip. A rude tongue prodded at the edge of her cheek and revealed itself, erotic and wet at the edge of her mouth.
The smirk that followed was so dirty that his heart escaped his throat in a flurry of thundering pounds. Her feet nudged at his cock, and it bounced to her touch, shivering as silvery thick pre-cum spilled from the tip. He reached for the condom without a word.
"No."
He stopped before he could break the plastic; brows knotted as he glanced at her. She licked her lips, then pursed swollen red flesh. The words that spilled from her mouth surprised him.
"I've got an IUD, and I've checked with the doctor. I can have sex now."
"What?" The information was unknown; the knowledge was new. How could she have done it without telling them? Why didn't he know? Why didn't she tell him? It sent a jolt of ice through his skin, like a wet finger down his spine. "When? How?"
"The moment I could." There was a tic in her brow, a bounce of muscle in her jaw. "As early as I could prevent this from happening again."
His lips parted with questions, but her expression was a wall of stone against his concern. He moved to take the lube instead, palming it over his cock and soaking it in silky dollops that highlighted the veins that riddled his length. He decided to let it go, choosing to look at her again.
Her tits were still sleek and shiny with her cum and milk, and he couldn't help his eyes from tracing the curve and then to her nipples that were now swollen red and protruding for latching.
Beautiful.
The sight made his cock harder, and his balls ached and tightened with the need to cum. He was so fucking ready to sink into her, bury himself deep inside her warmth and lose himself to her cunt. He bit his lips so hard that he tasted blood.
He would be the first man in their family to have her raw.
"What do you think?" she asked with a gesture down her body, the subject changed, brow raised, and body splayed. Her eyes were cast downwards as if she expected a negative response, but the words that flowed from his throat were that of honey straight from his heart.
"You're softer."
He groped at her flesh as he slid his cock between her folds slowly drenching them both with a mixture of silky lube and cum. He moved lazily, sloppily pleasuring her clit and her breath hitched. He feathered his touch up her skin, meandering his fingers over her hips.
"Sexier."
He touched her breasts, squeezed, and then watched as milk dripped from her nipples like blessed offerings from his lover. He scooped the ooze of white with a finger and placed it on his tongue. It was strangely sweet.
"Better."
Her cheeks reddened and her smile stretched, lazy and inviting. "Thank you." She moved, fingers pulling up the silk of her skin to her nipples. He stared, tantalized as she rubbed at her nipples and milk oozed from the tip unlocking a feral need in him that he didn't know he now had.
He was burning.
Her gasp was rewarding when he slid in the head of his cock by accident from the sloppy wetness of her. And they both groaned as he entered. His cock filled her slow and steady, pushing through impossibly warm folds that hugged his length and drew him deeper. She was so wet that each drag was audible in sloppy swallows of her slobbering cunt.
The pleasure was indescribable. His gasps were breathy with timbre as he inhaled and exhaled in shallow pants; his body was locked in melting gold and filling souls. It was so good that he couldn't do anything. He couldn't think of anything. All he wanted to do was fuck.
Suspended and floating within the soup of lust, his body was taut from the need to stay still. His eyes were glazed as pleasure beyond his imagination filled him to the brim until his thighs were quivering from the stress of it all.
It was everything.
The pain of his pleasure, the heat of her cunt melting his cock, the sweet, delicious silk of her insides that fluttered and squeezed around him fuelling his body with an inhumane pleasure. It was nothing like sex with other women, it was nothing like anything he'd ever felt. He could cum hard right then and there if he wanted to.
Within her his cock jerked and wept, and his slit fluttered, blood pulsating through him so hard that he felt it at the head of his penis. Sweat dripped from his body as he held on, the jerky flutters of his hips—completely controlled by his weeping cock—was erratic.
She was so fucking good that he wanted everything.
He wanted to go rough.
He wanted to spread her wide and pound into her so hard that she'd feel it through her bones.
He wanted to punish.
He wanted to take.
He wanted to be selfish.
And just as he struggled with the need to reign himself in, he devoured the dull fully blown dilation of her pupils. He filled himself with the mouth-watering view of dripping breasts, a soaked sexy body and the lewd visual of her: hastily gulping deep swallows of air from the fill of his cock in her, and then the enthusiastic rock of her hips against him. She too was just as aroused and just as fucked up.
He wanted to go faster.
But still he moved in scant, almost lacklustre pumps in her cunt not wanting to hurt her as he circled his hips, soaking the fleshy head and then allowing the silver ring at the head to nudge at her G-spot. He couldn't let lose himself in her, for fear that he might hurt her. And thus, laboured and controlled, he emptied and crammed her full her in disciplined short thrusts that was only for her pleasure.
Weak thrusts.
He feared her realisation and thus his fingers moved, thumbing her clit as he fucked her with slow strokes. Each thrust made her arch and squeeze around him, tightening over piercings and swallowing at hard flesh.
But she was slippery and sopping with cum, and with the generous dollops of pre-ejaculate dripping from his cock he found himself sinking deeper into her. And her smile was growing more and more lascivious and knowing with each slide until he was pinned to her, and her cunt was suckling him down.
Fuck.
"I can't," he started to say, "you're—"
"I'm fine," she hissed, angry as she moved to push him down.
He fell to the bed in a low thump, the dislodge of his cock led to a spurt of their fluids which bubbled from her pussy. But she impaled herself upon his cock until the head kissed at her cervix and he was all the way in. He gasped.
"Stop fucking holding back on me Casper," she growled, bouncing over him with a zeal that had his hips propelling upwards each time she moved.
His breath hitched and his cock squirted another mass of thick bountiful pre-cum within her. He groaned, a throaty moan as he tried to steady her hips. The pleasure ballooned and rose, crippling his attempts to stop her. And she continued, riding him in ways that turned him into a wanton pussy starved man as she squeezed him as hard as she could.
"Stop telling me what to do, and what should be done. And what's good for me! I don't give a fuck! And I don't want you to give a fuck. I want you to show me everything. Every fucking thing you can and want to do to me."
"You don't understand—" he hissed through his teeth, "—what you're asking for."
"I want what she had!" Her words were hissed toxic that poisoned their souls. "I want what that man did to that girl in the club. Show me what you're capable of goddamn it." She clawed at his skin as the pleasure hammered through his soul. "You like my fucking breasts! You want to play with them? Fucking play with them! You can't be that much of a pussy! You dick!"
He roared, so damn aroused that he couldn't take it any longer. He pounced on her, cock slipping out and for a moment they stared at one another, breaths heaving until their lungs were filled. And then he spoke.
"Green for yes. Yellow for fear. Red for stop."
"Fine."
Amber
He refused to give her what she wanted.
The rage sifted through her, a turmoil of inner heat that latched upon her body like a devil to her nipples. Only what frothed forth was not the sweet whispery thin milk that nourished her child, but the dredge of her soul. It was all of her in its festering, fermenting blackness; the rotten purpled black hues; the distaste and anger for her own existence.
She hated herself, that goody-little-two shoes that tried to be nice all the time. For once in her damn life, she wanted to be naughty. She wanted to be bad, she wanted to be punished, to be used and thoroughly fucked. She wanted to be control, she wanted to see him ruined, she wanted to see him mad.
But he remained worried for her. The bigger person, the pure kind man that was more—fuck, she didn't want to use this word—like a blood relative than her lover. It was a mask over his true, damn self. And she knew that from the colours in his eyes, and the lack of her prints on his skin.
No access to his soul.
The disappointment brought forth a warm, wet primordial darkness. And her consciousness was left sitting in a vast pot of nothingness. Her mind was no larger than her tolerance for her soulmate—as small as a cracked grain of rice, not enough for a rodent starving for a meal.
She was lost in this mad, mad world of desperation. She craved the physical touch that he could give without those soft little questions. Are you okay? Is this too much? Am I going too fast? It seemed to translate into twisted mockery in her head, one that told her she was a weak little glass figurine on his shelf. Maybe even, just as much of a baby as Rumiko was to him.
Fuck, she hated it.
She wanted him to break her.
This rugged masculine beauty of tanned gold hues, devil whetted jaw and eyes that were so honest she could sink herself in its dripping hazel malt and forget about everything. There were no lies in his soul, he didn't conceal that side of him on purpose; he remained so goddamn clumsy, so goddamn nervous, so damn worried.
And yet behind all that was the coolness of stoic steel behind that sweet side of himself. The one that was insane, filthy, so goddamn wrong, so goddamn bad.
And the ice was all here now, dancing throughout the room, lashing upon her skin in its delicious pent upglory. His tongue darted, a brief break in the coldness that scared and yet excited her so much that her body twinged with heat.
His hands fisted her hair, as he moved to a stand, breaking free from the bed to tower over her much smaller frame. He was silent when he took a step back and her breath hitched as he pulled and she moved eagerly to the edge.
There he stood, tall, strong and naked. Yet there was no shame in his face, not a bit humiliated by his nudity or the glistening thick cock that shimmered with rings and studs. He stared at her, watched her with fire in his eyes that coaxed her nerves ablaze.
Was he backing out of this? Was he afraid? Her cunt pulsed, anguish dripping, and it clenched and unclenched for the boiling hot steel that it once grasped between the emptiness within her. The sticky remains of him slipped from her pussy and it dripped, a slow ooze over her throbbing clit.
Greedy, his hand pulled to her neck, squeezed at the vein, thumb to soft flesh, just as beads of her cum and his dribbled down her behind. There was no kindness when he groped her breasts and it spluttered with milk. As he touched his gaze transformed, from seedy reservation to a spitting cough of slimy glee.
The delight shone through, no longer reserved, no longer afraid of hiding the thoughts behind other concerns. And the smile flickered in the darkness like candlelight, like fire. The dimple was an irony.
And with a tone of indifference, the words dripped from his lips, coy and dark. "Kneel."
The word sliced through the air, knife-like as it punctured through her own defiance. The tension broke, shattered into a thousand pieces as her air choked in her throat. Tall, imposing, impossibly handsome he didn't give a fuck about her reaction, an annoyed frown darkening the wrinkle on his brow.
"What? But—"
He fisted his cock, red and angry between veiny hands. His fingers toyed with the rings. And she stuttered, legs moving up and then down as her body struggled to not listen. Awkward, her legs hung as she considered what to do but jerked as he spat—an exhale filled with rolled-eyes and annoyance that it had her gaze snapping up to his with her irritation. How could he—
"Kneel," he repeated, voice lower, vocals frying her insides.
This time it seared through her with its demand. It was harsh, torn with a thousand needles and drenched in gasoline. Flamable, it threatened her destruction. The end of this scene. The end of this gift.He would not allow her this chance with this side of himself if she refused him again.
The threat was underlined by the steady beat of the muscle that danced within clenched jaw.
And it filled her with dripping arousal as her eyes zeroed in to the bounce of his thick hard cock, all angry and red, still wet with her pussy and his cum. Power rippled as he moved and her knees were now edging towards the ground, slow as she moved, slow as her hands draped over her thighs. It felt slower in her head, impactful when it thudded to the ground.
Her cunt throbbed with her excitement
"Open your mouth." She parted them, slowly, clumsily and his smile stretched. "You're mine." He told her, more fact than a suggestion as his thumb drifted over her bottom lip, tugging at the dip. "Mine to command, mine to fuck, and mine to use." His words, so potent with craze had her heart soaring in her chest.
"You want me to blow you?" Her words were shaky, they escaped her before her brain could work in whispery tones. But he ignored her question, rubbing her lower lip slow and sensual and it did things to her insides, melting it into a warm goo. And then with a tongue placed between teeth he smirked.
"You will thank me for this," he warned.
He drew closer, the head of his cock nudged against her lips, the piercings were warm but colder than the fire of his flesh. And her mouth parted, gingerly, slowly, unsurely. The humiliation burned within her licking in her chest, but she allowed it because of the throb between her legs. His cock sank in, resting on her tongue, salty and slimy with their pleasure but addictive in all the wrong ways.
How she could enjoy such a disgusting mixture was beyond her. But when slathered over a rod of thick, heavy pleasure that jerked with life on her tongue, it was aphrosiadiac that threatened to make her cream herself and squirt all over the floor.
Instinctively, she suckled on the head, lapped at it the way she was taught, the way she was told to back home. The way that should bring him to easy orgasm,but his fingers clung to her hair, knotted at the back of her head.
And despite her desire to suck him dry, despite the quick laps of her tongue over his fluttering slit and then to his frenulum where skin parted to reveal sensitive glans. There was no break in the strong solid hum of velvet timbre in his voice.
"Pinch me for Red," he told her, his last warning, his kind reminder.
He was moving as he spoke, pushing himself deeper, stabilised by a careful hand on her head. And there he rested for a moment, the twitch of his cock deep within her throat; as deep as he could go was spent gauging her abilities. And she tried to take him all in, swallowing him down to break the gag. The slow beginning thrusts of his hips were anticlimactic.
But then he seemed to give zero fucks about her. Because he pushed harder, forced himself deeper until the head tickled the back of her throat and her tonsils were wrapped around the glans. The gag begin, a retch that had tears blooming, blurry in her eyes.
And instead of waiting for her he took it as a fucking sign to slam her head down into his pelvis rough and painful until his cock was bruised against her throat. And he did it again and again, until a whimpered sound was released from her throat in violent gag.
She was choking and then she was not, her saliva gargled and her throat constricted as he fucked her throat like he would her cunt. There was no care with each haphazard slam of her head to his pelvis. Her nose burried against his pelvis, his balls slapped against her chin.
No fucks were given as he used her until it hurt to breath and she was gasping, and trying to inhale. Her teeth grazed him as she struggled but he didn't seem to care as he held her head and used her the way he said he would. He didn't give a fuck even when the retch gave way to a small flood of fluids that spurted around his cock; the remains of the water she'd drunk instead of the food she should have eaten.
Even then he didn't care. With no pinch to his knees, with her hands so determined to stay between her legs, he would not stop. He wasn't her Casper anymore as his eyes, so hazel, so dark and yet so red clung to her, watched her until veins popped over his skin. Until his lips parted and a pant was exhaled in a wet throaty groan.
His end was near and she took it all, allowed him to choke her towards seconds of dizzying faint as they each dared the other to sign a word of Red. As she took each painful gasp of oxygen to live, and he pulled himself to nirvana.
And the longer she allowed him, the bigger his smile. The stretch so manic that she couldn't recognise him as his smile vibrated through him, and his eyes grew mooned with his pleasure. He barked a laugh when he sped up and she surrendered. And his length swelled with each thrust, balls tightening as his orgasm neared.
Each gasp of air was life-threatening need. Each moment of oxygen necessary as he pulled free and entered and then pulled free. He was close and she saw it in the spasm of ecstasy that was a torrent through his system. He was no longer a man but her rutting animal as words spilled from his lips in a rush of growls, tones that she'd never heard on his lips before.
"My sweet girl, so damn precious. Going to drown you in my cum, dirty little slut." The hissed words that took more effort to verbalize from the pleasure. And the eyes that turned her way, doubled and blurred from the tears were a mire of adoration. "I want you so damn fucking much."
Tears came with the pain but the pressure of his cock didn't stop, and she was so aroused that her clit begged to be touched with each throaty groan. There was no relief even with her fingers twisting at the nub, flicking it as if her life depended on the act. The pleasure made her swallow harder, and he only moved faster the pre-cum flooding her mouth, bitter, sour and salty.
She didn't cum from her fingering, so focussed on opening and receiving his pleasure. But Casper did as he plunged deep and released all that was pent up deep within his balls. The bellow was hoarse through his throat as he roared.
"Open wider," he snapped, hands braced on her head. Voice ravaged by his need. "Don't think about fucking swallowing."
His taste was heady, his length hot and heavy on her tongue as he lodged himself and allowed thick ropes of hot seed down her throat, oozing in spurts of pleasure. He held her there refusing to let go, and there he pulled, allowing a heavy wad to rest on her tongue thick with his dirty scent. His cock was freed through closed lips that he kept closed with a hand to her mouth.
"Breath through your nose, pinch me if you can't," he ordered and she did, each breath a dragged inhaled like a drowning child.
His cum remained salty on her tongue, slimy and it should disgust her the way pleghm should in her mouth, but instead her pussy dripped and the scent was so thick with his musk that her clit threatened orgasm. The snort escaped him, and it startled her. Shame filled her, knowledge that he knew that she enjoyed it made embarrassment colour her cheeks.
"Open."
And she showed him the cum on her tongue, eyes wide at the surreality of what she'd done. It was so damn fucking dirty, so damn fucking filthy that she couldn't believe what they were doing.
"Swallow."
She tipped her head back, semen oozing down her throat and then closed her mouth, swallowing with a strange lack of gag. His smile grew, genuinely pleased by her performance as he stroked her cheek. To the bed they went and there he parted her thighs.
"Say thank you," he murmured, fingers twisting over her lips and then dipped to her mouth, digging for her tongue.
"Thank you," she answered around his digits.
"Thank you master," he reminded.
Her snort was incredulous, the scene familiar to her. "I'm not your master."
His eyes narrowed, gritted teeth and harsh exhale. But his smile was flickering, wide and so damn deranged. This was a side of him she'd never seen before, lost in the lust that he concealed so desperately. He cradled her cheeks, and tasted her tears sucking on the nub of his thumb.
"Still, so damn naughty."
He pushed her down, flipped her, pinning her hands behind her back. Then flourished a flogger that he'd found from god knows where, showing her the flared leather. There was a moment as his composition broke through a whispered word of reminder. In seeped the Casper that wanted to cuddle with her, but this time she appreciated his appearance.
"I won't hit you hard, just enough to surprise." There was a pause and then a final warning. "Tell me your safe word, love."
"Green."
He moved, humming a slow song as he darted the strands between her parted legs, the leather was cold and she squirmed as he rubbed it on her clit, dragging it up and down, strumming the bundle of nerves. It was enough to get her closer to orgasm and she shuddered, body quivering as she oozed with her arousal. She was almost at the edge when he stopped with a laugh.
"You cum so easily. Would be interesting to watch you try with the edge of a table."
She flushed at his words. But he distracted her with his hands, feathered over her skin, darted down cream flesh and over the curves of cellulite and rough squeeze of fat. She flushed at his touch, the grope was vulgar. The feel of wet leathery strands over her skin even more so.
"A beautiful canvas," he assured in a low hiss, "so perfect, so exquisite."
He brushed the flogger over her skin. It swished and there was a sudden pinch on her back that had her arching in shock, but as promised it wasn't painful, just surprising. And yet her cunt dripped with arousal, quivering with sensitivity and awareness of what it could do.
Her breath was choked as it escaped her.
And then he continued, swishing it over her thighs, her back, her skin as she clung to the mattress wanting to look at him but being unable to. With a dig of his palm on her rear, he pulled her up, ass in the air, displayed for his viewing pleasure and she burned, shivering as her pussy was kissed by a waft of cold air.
"Count."
She exhaled. "One."
The flogger swished, whirred through the air, the blow blossomed over her ass, a sensation that consumed her whole.
"Two."
He moved to her inner thighs and it snapped, a jerky hiss that burned a little more than before, scorching her as she twisted and then to her pussy, a softer stir of strands snapped over sensitive flesh.
"Three and a half," she chuckled and he growled.
The next one hit her, swung hard and fast on her ass, lashed out in spiteful anger, it burned as she jerked her ass higher for him. And yet, like the dirty whore she was, her cunt dripped with more of her juices it splattered down her thighs.
"FUCK!"
She snapped, more curses at the edge of her tongue and then there was a whir of vibration a dull hum pressed upon her clit and the snarl on her lips transformed into a desperate moan, whiny with need. It dug to the right of the bundle of nerves, pushed against the spot that brought her the greatest pleasure. And it left just as quickly, replaced by the flogger that snapped against her skin.
The scream was ripped from her, not because of the pain but because of her inability to cum. She'd been so close to an orgasm that she could taste it on the tip of her tongue, but he took it away from her with a haughty snap of leather.
Foolish, it said. You don't get to cum.
Her torture was not just the surprise of pain, but a mixture of edged pleasure. She bit her lips as he continued, fists curled over fabric clunched between knuckles, as her skin turned pink and then red. Her nipples hardened and seeped with milk, and her eyes were glazed as drool dripped from her opened mouth.
He made her knees weaken with pleasure as the orgasm peaked and ebbed with each random dig of the vibrator upon her clit. And then he made her gasp as the pain snapped her away from the need to cum. It was exquisite, fire licking torture that pulled her far into the the heavens of ghostly white. She arrived at a place of neverending need, and there she sobbed begging to orgasm.
"Please let me cum."
"Not until you learn."
"Please master."
"Continue counting," he hissed. It ruined her, and she found herself sinking into a soupy irritated goo that had her whimpering out her need. She begged as her ass quivered, shaking as he once again pulled away like the bastard he was.
"Safe word baby." He urged, the words different as her voice trembled to new heights.
"Green." And yet tears dripped from her eyes, it wasn't about the physical pain. What Casper did to her was nothing that she couldn't withstand, more than anything she'd imagined.
She loved it and but she wanted so desperately to cum that she could imagine the feeling of it. She could picture the brilliant violent quake of her body, she could picture the throws of pleasure that swerved through her. The spasms, the pleasure that blossomed from her cunt and spread throughout her body in a wave of weakening muscle.
God, she could almost taste it.
"Tell me your safe fucking word!"
"GREEN!" The sob was exquisite, a breakthrough to her cunt as the flogger tapped against her clit, so swollen that it almost hurt. The pleasure was just as sweet as it was strange and she was shivering as her pussy wept and salivated. Her heart was hammering as whimpers escaped her lips, flood gates bursting with her as she struggled to control what couldn't be controlled. "M-master, I'm going to—the toilet. I need to go—"
The squirt that followed, soaked and then exploded into full blown piss had her crying out her shame. She shivered as warmth splattered over her legs, cried harder as she wet herself before his eyes. Her orgasm was never attained, but her bladder was shamefully emptied. She blubbered out her apologies, whimpered as she huddled within herself.
How dirty she was. How disgusting. How fucking filthy—
But he didn't seem to give a fuck, because a warm mouth latched upon her as the last traces of her fluids dripped upon the soaked bed. His tongue coiled upon her clit. It lashed, strummed and then twisted around and around, painting her name again and again until her orgasm burst through her in a scream.
Her body arched against his lips as the pleasure rolled through her pulling her soul free from her body. Her mind was pure white relish, and she could do nothing but feel, as she settled on the bed, shivering from the aftershocks, warmed by what he'd done. He turned her over, careful as he lifted her shaking frame.
And then uncaring that his dick had just been in her mouth. He kissed her the way the sun drapped over the moon in an eclipse, the way dew settled upon the grass, and the stars caressed the night sky.
His tongue was in her mouth tasting himself, curling over hers and sucking at the salt of him. But he didn't care, just as much as she didn't give a damn about the taste of her in his mouth. And he swallowed her down hungrily, pulling her so close that his cock was now pressed to the seam between her legs.
"Wasn't too much?" he whispered into her ears, kissing the tears away and cradling her the way her Casper would. He broke composure for a brief moment just enough to check on her state of mind. "Talk to me."
"It was perfect," she answered, heart beating fast as she stared into his eyes so that he could see the truth in them. Then she closed them as he took her into a deep kiss, lips locked he entered her once more. Her eyes flew wide open, a gasp escaping her.
This time it was a full deep stroke that had her choking as his fingers danced over sensitive skin. The piercings bobbed, rubbing her insides as he entered her, the silver bobbed digging into spots in her that writhed and squeezed. The carnal side of him blossomed, as his body went still. His eyes were glazed, slicked with unfocused need but yet so damn absorbed by the sensation of her swallowing cunt.
"You're so damn fucking tight." His eyes quivered, rasped as he snarled. "I'm going to fuck you the way I fuck your throat. And youre going to take it nice and good for me."
He dug his nails into her and then he began, thrusting so hard and so deep that she was gasping against his lips, her insides were rammed and then reshaped for his liking and he relished her groans.
He smiled at the twist of her hips as she hissed from the dig of his cock in her, furious as it went slamming in and out of her. He squatted over her, crude as he pounded down into her body until her pussy gushed around him and her legs just had to part with renewed flexibility.
"Let me hear you," he demanded, a spanked hand over her ass as he fucked her until her toes curled and uncurled again and again. The sting made her squeal, the rainbow handprint that lingered made her swell with pleasure. "Let me listen to you." Again she squirted just as he tugged at her nipples, relishing the feel of her breasts until milk streamed from the tips.
Their fluids frothed between them, more cum squirted and drenched over fabric as she was used and pounded into. And she allowed him to hear her, her moans of pleasure. It was unlike her, but he'd broken a wall that she'd held on with the flogger and now she was loose with abandonment.
"Look at you, begging for my fucking cock!"
"P-PLEASE! PLEASE DON'T STOP!"
"Such a dirty fucking girl, you've been dreaming about it all this time. Are you happy now that you have me?"
"CASPER! OH GOD, I'm never going to—I can't I need this now. I need this." The sheets tore under her hands as she gripped them for strength, but he didn't stop as he tugged her tighter and his pace grew only faster.
"Be a good girl and call me what I told you to call me!"
"M-MASTER!"
The pleasure was too much, the speed was overwhelming and Amber tried to slow him down to catch her breath as spots showed in her vision. But he kept on going, fingers thumbing her clit, even as she squirted around him, allowing her no rest or respite. She was way too fucked to care as he spread her eagled to allow the greater pierce of his shaft into her cunt.
"How many times have you cummed, you fucking bitch?" He strummed harder, uncaring that it now brought her just as much pain as it did pleasure. "You're going to cum one more fucking time for me."
"I-I've lost count this—" she couldn't quite put it into words, her hands clawing over his back. It left a rainbow of marks, heated imprints from the soul. "I'm—I'm cumming I—AAAAH."
And there in the space of constant neverending orgasm, lost in bliss, her mouth gaped and then spread into a stupid well fucked smile as she stared up at him, into the shifting gold of his eyes with loose, hanging limbs and a lolling tongue. She bounced and he laughed, insanity spiking as she squirted again all over him, soaking them both with whatever fluid that remained in her weakened body.
Writhing he came within her just as she did against him, spurted ropes that drenched her insides hot and heavy as he screamed into her skin. And together they strained and splattered, dousing the bed with their fluids until nirvana was attained and pulsating bliss filled whim. His words were huffed as he rolled over, scooping her into his sweaty embrace.
They spent a few minutes just panting against each other before they could speak again.
"Sweetheart." He uttered, voice over used from the grunts of his pleasure, raw from everything.
The bed was completely soaked but Amber didn't care as she shook against him, lost in the feeling of him still pierced within her even as his cock laid flaccid and weak between his legs. Casper continued to look at her, and her into the daze of neverending esctacy.
"Was that okay?" he whispered, suddenly shy, suddenly lost. And she turned to stare at him, momentarily lost in everything they'd done together. Then her smile escaped her, so wide that it hurt her cheeks. With all the energy she could muster she began to speak through a raspy throat.
"I came my brains out, I swear I've lost all of my fluids. I'm parched as fuck. "
"Right, we should have taken a break." He turned, opening the bottles of water on the drawer with a twist of his wrist.
"Are you kidding?" She gulped down the water as he held the bottle to her lips and then his. "I'd have started giggling at you, I'd have lost it. " He blushed at her words, fiddling with the plastic bottle in his hands.
"I don't want you dehydrated because of me, love."
Casper stroked her cheeks, painting colours over her skin, making her finish the bottle of water as he studied her face, focussing on the dips and bends of her features. He seemed to absorb her in the depths of her colourful eyes, watching as their souls blossomed and moulded into one.
"You're beautiful, your soul is so beautiful, " he breathed as he cleaned her with a towel, wiping away the cum and the sweat that stained her skin. "I love you so much. Thank you for that." The appreciation was soft and intimate, slow and whispered.
Her voice was coloured with warm delight. "I love you too, Casp. That was amazing. Can we do it again?" He chuckled, kissing her with a gentle tongue, intimate and slow. He finished it with a kiss on the tip of her nose.
"Not now. We should take a bath and then sleep."
"Maybe not here," her nose wrinkled as she glanced at the soaked sheets, "we ruined the bed." Her lips pursed, with the effects of lust now gone from her mind the sight of it was pretty damn disgusting.
"You're right. Come on, I'll wash your back." He took her hand and she sat up, wincing as her insides quivered.
"Fuck, can still feel you in me. I don't think I can walk for awh—CASPER!"
She burst into giggles as he scooped her into his arms, carrying her as he moved to the bathroom. Their bath was filled with laughter as they teased and kissed, heart so full of love that they couldn't keep their hands off one another. Casper took her to a restaurant for a late supper of stew and then they booked a hotel where they slept curled in each others arms, well-sated and loved.
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A/N: Read 10+ chapters ahead on Patreon: patreon.com/tinyeyecat