The door creaked open just enough for me to slip inside, my cock already hard just from the thought of what I was about to do to you. Page, you were oblivious, sprawled out on the couch in nothing but a tiny tank top and those cheek-hugging panties that barely covered your fat ass. I watched from the shadows as you scrolled through your phone, completely unaware that your world was about to get a whole lot filthier.
I moved silently, my bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floor. The scent of your cheap body spray and something sweet—probably the vanilla candles you love—filled my nose as I stepped closer. You still hadn’t noticed me, too lost in whatever mindless shit you were reading. That was fine. I liked it better this way—when you had no idea what was coming.
I dropped my jeans first, letting my cock spring free. It was already dripping at the tip, the head swollen and throbbing. I gave it a slow stroke, watching you as you shifted on the couch, your thighs pressing together. You were turned on, even if you didn’t realize it yet. I could smell your arousal, that sweet musk that drove me fucking wild.
Then I made my move.
I dropped to my knees behind the couch, my hands gripping your waist hard enough to leave bruises. You gasped, your back arching as I yanked you toward me, your fat ass pressing against my face. I didn’t give you time to protest. I buried my tongue in your crack, licking a slow, wet stripe from your clit up to your tight little asshole. You moaned, your hips jerking, but I held you down, forcing you to take it.
"Fuck, you taste so good, Page," I growled against your pussy, my voice rough. "So fucking sweet. I could eat this ass all day."
You tried to squirm, but I pinned you with one hand on your lower back, my other hand sliding up to grip your throat. Not enough to choke you—just enough to remind you who was in control. "Stay still," I ordered, my breath hot against your soaked cunt. "You don’t get to move until I say so."
I dove back in, my tongue fucking your asshole now, lapping at it like it was the last meal I’d ever get. You were whimpering, your fingers clawing at the couch cushions. I pulled back just enough to spit on your hole, then pushed two fingers inside, scissoring them open to stretch you out. You cried out, your body trembling.
"Please—" you begged, but I cut you off with a sharp slap to your ass cheek. The sound echoed through the room, your skin pinkening instantly.
"Please what?" I taunted, dragging my wet fingers up your crack before pressing them against your lips. "You want me to fuck you? You want my cock in that tight little ass?"
You nodded, your eyes wide and desperate. I didn’t make you say it out loud. I didn’t need to. I could see it in the way your body betrayed you, in the way your thighs shook.
I stood up and pressed the head of my cock against your ass, already slick with spit. You were so fucking tight, your hole clenching around me as I pushed in inch by inch. You screamed, your back arching as I bottomed out inside you. I didn’t wait. I pulled back and slammed home again, my balls slapping against your pussy with every thrust.
"Fuck, your ass is perfect," I grunted, my fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. "So fucking tight. I could wreck this ass all night and you’d still beg for more."
You were a mess beneath me, your moans turning into broken sobs as I pounded into you. I reached around, my fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in rough circles. You came hard, your walls fluttering around my cock, milking me as I kept fucking you through it.
But I wasn’t done.
I pulled out, my cock glistening with your spit and my pre-cum. I flipped you onto your back, your legs shaking as I lifted them over my shoulders. Then I was inside you again, this time with your tits bouncing in my face as I fucked you into the floor.
I leaned down, my mouth finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss. "You love this, don’t you?" I growled against your lips. "You love being my little fucktoy, getting used and abused whenever I feel like it."
You moaned, your nails raking down my back. I could feel my orgasm building, my balls drawing up tight. I pulled out just in time, stroking my cock over your tits before I came, ropes of cum painting your chest and face. You looked up at me, dazed and breathless, as I smeared it into your skin.
But I wasn’t finished with you yet.
I grabbed the mayo from the fridge—you always had some lying around—and slathered it onto my cock. You looked up at me, confused, but I didn’t give you time to protest. I shoved my fingers into your mouth, forcing it open before pressing the head of my cock against your lips. You gagged as I pushed inside, the mayo mixing with your spit as I fucked your throat.
"Swallow it," I ordered, my voice dark. "Every. Last. Drop."
You did, your throat working around me as I came down it, filling your stomach with my cum and mayo. When I finally pulled out, you coughed, spit dripping from your lips, your eyes watering. I didn’t let you clean up. I dragged you to the shower, turning the water on cold before pushing you against the tile.
I dropped to my knees again, this time eating your pussy like a starving man. You came twice more before I finally let you collapse against me, your body limp and trembling.
We were both wrecked—physically, emotionally, completely undone.