Sunday Snog time again, this week a snippet from That Filthy Book - be warned, though, it's steamy and it sets the stage for married couple Karen and Jacob exploring many dark and edgy fantasies.
As though my inhibitions had become as transparent as the window I was pressed against, I suddenly found it easy to let loose these new words. This was Jacob—I could say anything and it would be okay.
I took a deep breath; surprised by how husky my voice sounded when I started to speak. “Your cock is like a steel rod fucking against my clit. But I want more. I want you to ram it anywhere you want. Take me and do whatever you want with my body, Jacob. I’m yours. What I want doesn’t matter—this is all about you and sating your needs.”
He grunted, and, although he kept one hand tight on my arse, he slid the other upwards and tangled it in my hair, squashing it between my crown and the glass pane. He pulled me closer, my head and my arse, as if he couldn’t get near enough despite the fact that the fronts of our bodies were connected completely.
“Yes, that’s it, harder, rougher,” I gasped. “Do whatever you want. I’m just a rag doll. I’m here for your pleasure. It doesn’t matter what I feel. Hurt me, overpower me, drag me to hell with your most primitive desires and fuck me into oblivion. To a place that’s so dark and hot that I won’t even remember my own name. You own my cunt, my mouth, my...my arsehole. It’s all yours. Fuck me harder, Jacob, so much harder!”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he said, easing his head back to look at my face.
His eyes were wild and flashing; swirling vats of lust. It thrilled me utterly to see something so new and exciting in irises I’d stared into so many times, and knew like the back of my own hand.
“I’ve got to get inside you, now,” he groaned. He bent his knees and shoved his cock deep into my cunt.
I cried out at the forceful stretch of his invasion, but he silenced me with a savage kiss, his open mouth hot and wet and frantic. Against my cheek his breath was hard and fast as he pistoned his hips back and forth. Squeaks from my sweat-damp skin rubbing on the window filled my ears, and I had a fleeting mental image of what my soft, pale body must look like from the outside—my flattened arse pressed to a bloodless white with a big, hairy hand digging into the left cheek and creating dents. My pussy and the dark cleft of my anus exposed and my spine and shoulders shifting with the force of his thrusting...
Gasping for air around our passionate kiss, I locked my hands at his nape. My pussy squeezed him tight, building up to a fantastic orgasm. I remembered how much I enjoyed fucking while we were standing. His rock-hard pubic bone bashed into my clit so perfectly, dragging it upwards with each sublime thrust. Why had we gone for missionary so many times over the last few years when this was so divine? What else had we forgotten that was so good?
“More,” he said sharply into my mouth. “Come on, tell me more of what I should do to you, Karen.”
I willed my mind to work. It was hard when I was flying high on the thrilling ride to climax, but there was a scenario in my head. Like a seedling bursting through the soil, it stretched to my mouth.
Out it spilled.
“Don’t say my name.” I gasped as a particularly forceful thrust had his glans stroking my G-spot. “You don’t know me. This is a dark alley. I was going home after seeing friends for the evening. A lone lady, vulnerable, heels loud on the cobbles.” I paused to heave in a breath, my lungs desperate with the effort of talking as he pounded into me with fervour.
As if sensing my struggle, he slowed his hips but increased the depth of penetration. Every time he was seated to the hilt he jerked, hitting my cervix and reeling my clit into a wondrous state of building pressure.
With a little less air being shunted from my lungs I carried on. My lips touched his neck, just a fraction below his ear, where he smelt masculine and raw and the texture of his skin was smooth but tough. “You saw me, walking into this alley. You were rock-hard for a fuck, so hard, but you were sick of your own hand. Tired of getting yourself off while you looked at porn. So you decided to just take me against my will. It didn’t matter that it was me, it could have been any woman, but I happened to be there, that night, when you were feeling hard and brave and desperate. So damn desperate.”
“So how did it happen?” he whispered, breathily. He kissed across my cheek and nibbled the shell of my ear, the tempo of his hips a wonderful rhythm that kept my orgasm within reach but also under control. “I need to know. Tell me how we got to this stage. The me-fucking-you stage.”