Russian.
“In your mouth,” Sergei pants, rising up on his elbows to watch. “Suck me.”
59
Lolita Lopez
How can I deny him? I slick my lips with saliva and take the top part of his cock between my lips. My tongue twirls around the head. Releasing him, I lick my palm and use the wet skin to stimulate him with long, tight strokes. Sergei’s stomach muscles contract and he inhales sharply. Clearly whatever I’m doing is working.
I flick my tongue against the bumpy ridge just below the head of his penis and then suck the same spot. Sergei falls back, his elbows collapsing, and starts cursing in Russian again. At least I assume it’s cursing. From the tone of his voice, he sure as hell isn’t reciting nursery rhymes.
“Let me stand.”
I scramble off him. Sergei stands and rids himself of his trousers, boxers, socks and shoes. He stands over me and pets my hair. Somehow I’ve assumed the role of submissive while he plays the master. I like the idea of giving sexual power to him.
There’s something alluring about the idea of not being in control just this once.
Sergei takes hold of his fat cock and rubs the head of it against my lips. It oozes pre-cum and I lick away the salty cream. He nudges my lips and I let him in, my mouth opening like that of a baby bird. With the finesse of a pro, I swallow him deep. My nose bumps his neatly trimmed pubic hair. Taking controlled breaths and relaxing my jaw, I let him sit in the warm, wet depths of my throat. His fingers caress my cheeks. When he takes hold of my head and gently, slowly pumps his hips, I experience a thrill of excitement. I relinquish control, knowing that if things do go too far I’m ultimately the one with all the power. One good bite, after all…
Sergei ramps up the pace of his thrusts. There’s something so incredibly dirty about the squishy sounds his cock makes as it slides in and out of my mouth. It makes my pussy drip and clench. Jeez, maybe I really am a freak.
I reach down and strum my clit as he fucks my mouth. With my other hand, I steady myself against his muscular thigh. Sergei grips my hair in his hands, his fingers tightening. My scalp burns—but it’s a good burn. The kind that makes me feel alive.
The kind that heightens all sensations and takes this experience to a whole new level.
60
Bad, Bad Things
Some part of me wants him to treat me as roughly as he did Cruz. A bigger part is thankful he doesn’t because I’m just not ready to live out the fantasies that turn me on so bad.
My fingers slide through the slippery juices coating my pussy lips and find their way inside me. And it feels so good. I’m getting it from both ends. I can almost imagine what it would feel like to have another lover with us, maybe Fox or some male stranger we pick up at a club. It’s a dirty thought that spurs me on, makes me moan around Sergei’s thrusting cock.
“Ofelia.” He says my name with such intensity, with such need. “Ofelia!”
He’s going to come. I’m struck by the urge to beg him to come on my face or to give me the fabled pearl necklace but I don’t. I’m too shy for such a kinky request. “Come on my face!” is probably a bit too much for a first encounter.
Sergei stiffens and shoves his dick deep inside my mouth. It pulses and shoots its load, missing my taste buds as it splashes the back of my throat. I do my fellow cocksuckers proud and swallow without gagging.
He pulls out slowly and falls to his knees in front of me. Wrapping an arm around my waist, Sergei draws me tight against his heaving chest and devours my mouth. His tongue searches for something as it touches the insides of my cheeks and my palate. It dawns on me that he’s tasting himself.
I’m reminded of a conversation with Jolie once about snowballing. This is the closest I’ve ever come to that particularly kinky act. It makes me shiver with the sheer dirtiness of it.
Sergei’s nimble fingers find my clit. Still kissing me, he strokes me until