As he smeared the head of his cock up and down her wet lips, she grabbed his hand. It wasn’t that she feared the pain, but that she wanted to watch her lips wrap around the head as he fully engulfed her tight cunt. Her mouth threatened to protest, but her eyes lit the way for his entrance into her starving wet walls. Inch by inch, those delicate lips parted, the head of his cock smearing with her honey. Pulling back, he slapped the mushroom tip on her swollen pussy, juices splattering on her thighs.
“You dirty little bitch. You told me you would never fuck me, yet you’ve already soaked me,” he said. Laughter followed his words. A cocky bastard by nature, that’s why she denied him. She would not be anything but another boost to his already oversized ego.
Her eyes to his, the fury inside of her grew like a building flame. If she didn’t stop him now, she never would. “Fuck you. Get the fuck away from me,” she screamed. Quickly placing her hand over her mound to detour his entrance. Did she think there was time to turn back?
The entire room filling with laughter, with one swift move, he flipped her to her stomach, nestling his cock between the cheeks of her ass. Not penetrating her, only laying it lengthwise against her backside. His mouth against her ear whispers what he would do to fill her mind with a rage that only he would know. His back arched, thrusting upwards, sliding against the crack of her ass, still, he did not penetrate her. Was he toying with his puppet? At times the strings to the marionette are as invisible as protests laced with lies.