Burn Me Up, Like A Witch, Baby Turn Me On.

Now She's Goin' to Town with Her Lips on My Boomstick

Hello everyone, I know this took way to long but here it is. The very long (seriously, like three years) awaited chapter.
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Before I could even think, Mike had turned me around and pinned my hands behind my back, holding my wrists with one hand. He slid his other hand down my back and over my behind, giving it a squeeze. I bit my lip, trying to hide my slightly laboured breathing.

"If this is too much for you, say pineapple," he said. I furrowed my brow. But nodded, that was a conversation for a different time.

He pushed my mini-dress up so that my panties and garter belt were exposed. He ran his hand over my behind again before giving it a swift and hard smack. Then he set his hand back down on me and slid his hand between my thighs. Without a warning he pushed a finger into me and I cried out. No one had ever touched me like this, and it was making me intensely hot. My cry in pleasure earned me another swift smack to the behind.

"Hush," he said, continuing to plunge in and out of me with his finger. Suddenly he stopped, and I could feel him undoing the latches of my garter belt. Soon, he was pushing my panties to the floor. His fingers returned.

This wasn't enough. I wanted him too bad for just... fingers.

"I want it," I mumbled, trying not to cry out in pleasure.

"What?" He almost barked.

I repeated myself louder. "I want it."

"Did I tell you to speak?" He said harshly. I bit my lip. This was turning me on way too much, him being in control. I shook my head. I could practically hear his sinister grin. "That's what I thought. Now tell me."

"I want it!" I cried out. He smacked my behind again harder than before. I winced slightly, but honestly, I liked it. I had fantasies, I won't lie.

"Beg," he said, his breath on my ear. It was almost enough to send me over alone. I didn't know what to say, so I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Please sir, can I have your-" the alternative name for man junk or a rooster.

He growled a low, "Fuck," before he slammed into me so hard I thought I could see God. His hand snaked up over my mouth before I could make a sound. "Don't scream."

I nodded and his grip on my wrists tightened as he pounded into me like I was a nail and he was a hammer. But, fuck, it was fucking amazing. And so intense.

I've never been, for lack of a better term, fucked like this in my life. Where has Mike been all my life?

He wrapped his arms around me and picked me up, making sure he was still in me, and the fact that it was huge help that matter. He set me down in front of the couch and pushed my face into the couch cushion.

It was almost too much to handle, he was giving me almost too much. It was rougher than my first time. I couldn't help but to scream, and God was it ever. I was screaming so loud it echoed throughout his living room and he growled low.

"I love making you scream." He said, grabbing some of my hair as he continued fast. It was all getting to be too much. I could feel my body ready to release, I think he could to. And before I knew it, I was there, crying out. It was so intense it made my legs shake.

I could hear Mike's laboured breathing and his thrusts were getting sloppy. Before long he was there too, slightly slouching on me. He released my hair and let my arms go. I practically collapsed on the couch and he sat down beside me. I didn't even notice he took a second to put on some boxers.

"Are you okay?" He asked, giving me a concerned look. I nodded. Worry was in his eyes. "You sure?"

"Yes," I said finally, still feeling drained. I didn't realize that could take so much out of you. He slid his hands under my arms and pulled me up next to him swiftly, putting his arms around me and holding on. I laid my head against his shoulder. "That was amazing."

"Yeah?" He chuckled. "And that was just with my hands."