Orange On The Bed ✓

021

Kristoffe St. George

He dragged me somewhere else I am not familiar with. He didn't stop until I'm back again facing the front porch of his house. He didn't enter it sadly, instead, he changes course and tug me to the path through the backyard. "Get in," he said, referring to the stairs that are pushed underground.

"Are you keeping me here?" I countered in a hollow yet pitiful tone. "Fine, I will do what you wanted, but at least get me somewhere more decent, okay?"

"Your lame plans aren't going to work now, Kristoffe." He retorted, and he even released my hand with a silly smile. "Since you are agile and so hard to resist this, then I should probably use force now." He put his hands on the hem of his shirt, then slowly pulling it up onto his head. "You'll get down or I'll reap off all your clothes so we could start it in a terrible way?"

I have no choice, that's why I softly walk down in the dark narrow path. Every inch of me is trembling, but not from the cold and suffocation inside. I can sense John Paul's body closing behind me, he's utterly tall in every way, and that's what I'm afraid of. And suddenly I hit a soft matter on my feet which causes a loud thud and John Paul's body to completely press on my back. "We are home," he whispered in my ear.

Not by a second, a white florescent undresses the shadows looming unto the walls and furniture. I gulp in anticipation seeing those kinds of stuffs. There are cuffs, blindfolds, leather belts, curved beds, sex toys, and whips. I started patting my feet to turn back, but I saw John Paul once again. Naked. He had his pants torn down, I can only see his grey boxers. "You have to choose one; willing sex or rough fuck?" He darkly chorused.

"N-neither..."

"So you're going to pick rough fuck? I didn't think you were this kind of sadist, St. George." He chuckles, mocking my deep answer.

"W-why are you doing this to me? I don't deserve this." I just stated.

"Because you owe me this sex. Do you have ever thought that I am only looking for one night stand with you? It's not like I am going to slave you, Kristoffe. If you have just given it before, maybe there are no casualties has been done." He shrugged. "Now, choose." He commanded.

"I-I don't know-"

"Just pick a fucking choice!!!" He shouted. It echoed surprisingly, and I have to choose now. I have to choose now...

"The first one," I muttered. Burning all of my butterflies as it abnormally causes me to flushed.

"Then... Shall we?" He mustered up with a white smile, giving a palm at the front of me. He leads me to other doors and doors until we stopped in a decent place I'm looking for.  "Kiss me." He whispered.

Without wasting any time, I slip into madness and lock lips with him. I draw more and more sexual tension while dancing my tongue synchronizingly with his'. In my mind, I was with March. His lips are warm and plump, hooding me some hormones to pent my tent. I started feeling aggressively needy. I put my hand at the back of my kisser, so is he. Then his manhood reaches my stomach as I clung my fingers to it.

All I knew was March... He's kissing me. Doing me in every way. He torn my shirt and disadorn my pants. Then my shoulder were pushed...

I suddenly came back into reality. I felt the cold air hitting my bare skins, as well as seeing John Paul eyes me hungrily. "I didn't know you're quite the type I am looking for." He then push down his underwear to impress me, which none of it happens. So, I came to readdress him as March to cope up. He crawls down at the bed with me, he stops at my level then kisses me more ravenously. His lower body's weight was destroying my insides. His boner and mine are giving me erotic ideas.