I couldn’t believe I was doing this—letting a man twice my age have his way with me, but there was something about Paco that made it impossible to resist. His confidence, the way he touched me like he owned every inch of my body, the way his rough hands knew exactly where to linger. I was supposed to be home, cuddled up with my boyfriend, but instead, I was kneeling on his bathroom floor, my lips wrapped around his cock after he’d just fucked my tight little ass raw.
His cum dripped down my throat as I swallowed every last drop, the salty taste mingling with the remnants of my own arousal. I moaned around his length, my fingers digging into his thighs as I cleaned him off with my tongue, savoring the way he groaned above me. His dick was still half-hard, twitching in my mouth, and I knew he’d be ready to go again soon.
It started with a ride home on a rainy night. I’d been walking under the downpour, soaked and miserable, when he pulled over and offered me a lift. I should’ve said no, but something in his dark, knowing eyes made me hesitate. He took my hand to help me into the car, and the moment his fingers brushed against mine, I felt a jolt of electricity I hadn’t expected. His touch was possessive, like he was already claiming me, and I hated how much I liked it.
We ended up at his place—some sleek apartment with dim lighting and a view of the city. He poured me a glass of wine, his fingers lingering a little too long on my wrist, his gaze dropping to my cleavage more than once. I should’ve left. I *told* myself I would. But then his hand was on my knee, sliding up my thigh, and all my protests melted away.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he murmured as he unzipped my jeans, his breath hot against my ear. “I bet you’ve never had a real man inside you, have you?”
I should’ve lied. Should’ve told him I was experienced, that I knew what I was doing. But the truth slipped out before I could stop it. “No… I’ve never—”
His fingers found my panties, already damp from the way he’d been looking at me all night. “Virgin?” he guessed, his voice rough with amusement. “That’s even better.”
Before I could protest, he had me bent over his couch, my jeans around my ankles, my ass bare to his hungry gaze. The first slap of his palm against my skin made me gasp, the sting radiating through me, making my pussy throb. He spanked me again, harder this time, and I whimpered, my fingers clawing at the cushions.
“You like that, don’t you?” he growled, his cock pressing against my ass. “You like being a bad girl for me.”
I couldn’t deny it. The humiliation, the roughness—it was intoxicating. When he finally pushed inside me, it burned, but the stretch, the way he filled me completely, made my head spin. He fucked me like he owned me, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises, his grunts filling the room as he pounded into me.
I came so hard I nearly blacked out, my body trembling as he emptied himself inside me, his cum leaking out of me for hours afterward.
Now, as I knelt before him, cleaning him with my mouth, I knew I was ruined. There was no going back. Not after this.
“Mmm, fuck, Isis,” he groaned, tangling his fingers in my hair as I took him deeper. “You’re such a good little slut for me.”
I pulled back just enough to smirk up at him. “And you love it.”
His chuckle was dark, promising more. “Oh, I do.”