He laughs, a low, throaty sound. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Carmine.” He reaches up to caress my cheek with one hand. His finger leaves a sticky trail across my cheek, still wet from my pussy. “You’re going to have trouble sitting down tomorrow, let alone walking.”

With that, he thrusts into me, deep, all in one shove. My pussy is so wet he glides all the way into me, and I scream out in sheer pleasure as his cock stretches my tight pussy. I can feel the plug deep in my ass still, and the thick girth of his cock straining at my pussy walls.

As I cry out, he slides his finger into my mouth. “Suck it,” he commands, and I clamp my mouth around his finger instinctively, tasting myself, my juices mingled with the sharp salt flavor of his skin.

He pulls back to thrust inside me again, keeping his finger in my mouth at the same time, his other hand clamped tight around my hip to hold me in place. I lick and suck at his finger, thirsty as fuck, while he builds up his pace, starts to fuck me in earnest.

“Fuck, Carmine,” he growls. “You fucking like that? You like my cock inside you?”

I moan into his hand, and he adds another finger to my mouth, then a third. As I lick and suck his fingers and thrust back against his cock, making the anal plug bounce inside me, I feel like I’m being fucked by three guys at once, every end satisfied, as full as I can be.

He shifts his hips, angles his cock so the head drags along my inner front wall, and I cry out again, the sound muffled by his fingers deep in my mouth, as he thrusts against my G-spot. A few more thrusts and I’m already at the brink again, my clit still sensitive from my earlier orgasm, my pussy straining to accommodate his girth.

He can tell. “That’s it, Carmine,” he murmurs. “Come for me again. Come for me, you filthy girl.”

I scream with the force of the orgasm that hits me. He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t even pause in his thrusts. His cock keeps driving into me, sending me over the edge, and making the orgasm last, my knees shaking, my belly tight, hands quivering.

Then he lets his fingers drop from my mouth, and I suck in a deep gulp of air, trying to catch my breath.

But he’s grabbing my hips with both hands now, driving full-force into me, and I realize he’s about to come too.

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“Fuck yes, Caleb,” I cry over my shoulder. “Fill me up. Fill me up with your fucking cum, come inside me.”

He growls and fucks me harder, so hard I can hear his balls slapping my pussy lips. I’m pretty sure my ass is going to bruise where his hips crash into mine, but I just push back against him, thrust as hard as I can against him. With a roar, he comes hard, still fucking me. I squeeze my pussy tight around him, milk every last drop as he thrusts away.

Finally, he slows, then stops altogether, his dick still deep in me. I squeeze my pussy again, and he gasps, his cock twitching inside me. He lets go of my hips, slowly draws his cock out of me. There’s a rush of my own juices, spilling down my inner thigh as he slides out of me.

I collapse forward onto the bed. I listen to the rubber snap of him rolling off the condom and tying it. Then he falls beside me a moment later, one hand resting on the plug in my ass.

“Oh, I can…” I reach for it, but he catches my wrist and folds my hands in front of me.

“Relax,” he commands yet again. And with a soft popping sound, he draws it straight out of my ass. Before I can make a move or offer to do anything, he’s already up off the bed, heading to the bathroom to take care of that and the condom. I’m not used to that. Not used to sharing my toys—or having help after everything is said and done. It’s nice to have someone else here. Someone else to come up with the ideas, someone else to take care of me at the end.

Not to mention someone else whose backside I can ogle while he does it. I smirk as I drink in Caleb’s sexy ass, and the sharp muscles of his back, almost as sexy as that V-cut on his front.

Then I roll onto my back and stretch. Before I even finish, he’s already back, lying beside me to wrap his arms around my waist.

“Shit,” I murmur, curling into his side. “That was…”

“Fucking hot as hell,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss my temple.

“Yeah,” I manage. I’m not sure how else to sum it up. I’d fantasized about this for so long—finding someone as kinky as me, someone who was into my same fantasies. Someone who’d be willing to get down and dirty with me. Not to mention have some fun with my toy collection.

But I never imagined it would feel like this. So comfortable, so easy. My other boyfriends or hookups would all act horrified when I told them about my kinks. If they let me talk them into trying anything, I still felt like a freak, a dirty weirdo who was corrupting them, or totally insane for wanting any of this.




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