Virgin for Sale

His question is ringing around in my head.

We were really talking when the pain stopped.

“Come on, angel, tell me why you didn’t pick the fairy tale. I was surprised when I saw your picture there.”

“I take it you do this often?”

“No, I don’t.” Both of his hands rest beside my head. He’s so close that it’s hard to look away.

I don’t want to look away from him.

Biting my lip, I try not to move. He feels weird inside me. A good weird, but still strange.

I’ve never had a dick within me, and now there’s no going back.

“Surprised?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Good. I don’t do this often. So, figuring you don’t either, tell me why you didn’t pick the fairy tale.”

“Because I didn’t want the lie.”

“The lie?”

“The fairy tale ending is not what I’m getting. Far from it. There’s no knight or prince waiting at the end of the night. One-time deal where you experience everything. You love every second of it, but it’s a lie. A complete and total lie. I’d rather have the truth than that.”

“Interesting.”

stares into my eyes, I don’t know what he’s looking for, can’t even for

starts to

you’re not

me, moving in and out,

up completely, and the view of his cock is so sexy. Spreading my legs wide, I glance down and watch

I gasp.

A nice, tight pussy. You’re not a virgin anymore. I own that. I own that part of you, and

my sides, cupping my hip, holding it firm within his grasp as he goes harder, riding me, taking me to another

inside me, and I can’t look

The pleasure is intense.

and hot all at

need inside

my butt is on his thighs. I watch, unable to do or say anything as he strokes through my slit. He’s teasing my clit, and even though it wasn’t long ago I came, I can feel the

stroke builds my arousal until I can’t stand it anymore and come

that feels

off the walls. I never knew I could feel like this, and it’s driving

lets go of all restraint. He pounds inside me, fucking me harder than before. I wrap my legs around his waist, and

feel of his dick, the way his body holds

I’ll never forget this.

how little the romance was, I will remember

spilling out of his mouth at

bruises in the morning, but that’s

as wave upon wave of