The Murdered World 32

“When someone gives me something, I take all of it,” Frank gritted out, reaching down to coil his hands in Christina’s fiery hair. Holding her in place while he lifted his hips from the mattress, grinding his cock into Christina’s recalcitrant throat. “Come on. Those first few inches are getting cold. Why don’t we put them somewhere warm?”

Christina answered with a gag, her throat rebelling, her eyes wide and panicked. Trying to nod even with her throat spiked full, no more room for what was being forced into it—her lust could only go into lips chewing and sucking and smacking around his member.

She touched her fingers to the portion of his length her mouth couldn’t touch. It thrummed madly. Christina eagerly stroked what she couldn’t suck, lovingly twisting her closed fingers up and down his engorged shaft.

Frank was unsatisfied. Even as he grimaced with appreciation at her efforts, he forced her face lower, lower, demanding the added tightness of her virgin throat. She pumped harder on his length, trying to placate him, but Frank wanted all of her gullet sheathing the raging erection she’d given him.

“HHNNGG! You enjoy having a dick in your mouth, don’t you? I must not’ve cooked enough for you—now you need a bellyful of cum!”

Christina sensed how close he was to giving her what he promised. She sucked harder than ever and tried to force her way down his lengthy endowment. His cock jumped against the roof of her mouth. Then she felt the totality of his lust, piled high and delivered right to the back of her throat.

The first explosion punched into her throat, scorching as if in punishment the unexplored country that had so far avoided being wrapped around his phallus. It was followed by rhythmic spurting of Frank’s seed; blast after blast like he was firing every round in a full clip. Christina savored the taste of it, nearly orgasming herself while she desperately swallowed all he had to feed her.

It was a flood of cum, a torrential storm. As much as Frank desired Christina, added to that was the interrupted passion he’d had for Lucy, now finally given expression. And still he managed to hold back at the last, to work his prick away from Christina, so that when he erupted for the last time, his love covered her gorgeous face like warm honey, erasing every feature with a drenching of whiteness.

Now Christina knew why his girlfriend had left his last blowjob unfinished. When Frank came, it was like he was turning on a firehose. She was about to say words to that effect, but once she opened her mouth, in the space of a syllable Frank had her by the hair and was shoving himself between her parted lips.

“Again,” he told her, and his voice left no room for argument. It worked on Christina deep in her cunt.

She felt herself clench and thought that she wanted him in her pussy, fucking her, not her mouth… but if Frank were interested in hearing any of that, he wouldn’t be in her mouth. And she might not want him to fuck her, if he were to let her tell him what to do.

His cock was still half-hard and throbbing from being in her mouth. When she moved her lips on it, it throbbed harder, stiffened a little. And seeped fresh precum onto Christina’s tastebuds.

Usually, all Christina would be doing now was literally polishing off a man’s erection. Getting the last treasured drops of his prodigious load. Kissing and licking the used up hard-on before it went totally flaccid, which was counterintuitive, because it fueled her own arousal right after she’d taken away the guy’s ability to do anything about it.

Often she would’ve liked it if her lover were able to stiffen up for her and really let her have it, so she got both the fun of a blowjob and a good fuck in the same night. But it was wishful thinking. By the time a man was done being limp, her initial ardor had faded. It took effort to keep her horny during that time—effort Angel had almost never put in.

And here Frank was. Only he wasn’t going to pleasure her. He was going to make her suck him off again. It seemed fitting somehow, as a way to dance on the grave Angel Mercader would never have. How he would’ve loved to treat her like this, fuck her like this. But Frank was actually doing it.

He twisted Christina’s hair, paining her scalp, and reminding her that she would have to finish what she started.

“Suck,” he snarled. “It’s not coming out of your mouth until you’ve taken it all.”

Frank felt her obey, drawing at his manhood like the undertow of some beautiful beach, seeming to lengthen his organ with every pull. He watched her cheeks narrow inward and wanted to ram himself right down her throat, filling that grasping suction until she choked.

But not yet. He would only be able to subject her to so much of that treatment. Best to save it for the end, when he was nearly finished. For now, he rewarded her for her submission, petting her hair and feeling a purr from Christina shake his flesh.

“Use your tongue,” he rasped. “Show me how much you like the way that cock tastes.”

Her tongue slid across his member, soft and firm. All of her felt that way: warm, moist, loving. Her mouth, her tongue, her lips… he couldn’t resist. Frank’s ass clenched as he thrust into that decadent sensuality, reaping untold amounts of pleasure from dragging himself through her unready gullet.

“Good. That’s real good,” he groaned, breathing the words out through his teeth.

He held the back of her head now, one hand keeping her in place, the other delighting in the silkiness of her hair. He withdrew, letting her sputter and gasp in breath, but he was driving back into her soon enough.

Her throat roiled, rebelling, gagging and gurgling as it was penetrated, but it wasn’t Christina resisting, it was her body. Frank felt how she quivered with enjoyment at being used. He pulled out again, let her breathe again, and stroked her hair some more as he would soothe an agitated horse. Putting her at ease with praise and comfort so she knew this wasn’t an assault—it was her being used to her fullest.

“Just like that,” Frank husked out. “That’s how you suck my dick.”

Christina mouthed his prick like it was a lollipop. She felt its hardened, rubbery feel all over her lips, burning her tongue. She couldn’t believe what she was doing; it was as hard to fit into her mind as Frank’s cock was to slot into her throat.

She could almost descend into some mindless state of rhythm and taste, put under by Frank’s harshly crooned words and surprisingly loving touch. Then she’d remember the cum strewn over her face, feel the bulge in her throat where he’d holstered himself, and think again of what a whore she was.

How she seemed to like being a whore, the lower the better. There wasn’t any honor in being a wife, not to a pig like Angel, but there was in being a whore good enough for this man…

Frank kept driving into her mouth, making her take more, showing her she could take more, even with her teeth gently grating against his shaft, her throat so tight that his foreskin was dragged back and forth on his rutting cock. It filled Christina’s throat and with him holding her down on it, she felt the muscles roiling, unable to decide whether to accept his intrusion and suck it deeper or to expel it.

Frank allowed neither. He held her down his erection with a viselike grip until her throat got used to the idea of being fucked.

“That’s enough for today,” Frank exhaled, grimacing, twisting his head slowly from one end of his pillow to the other. “All you have to do is swallow now. Just swallow. Let me know you appreciate how much cum I’ve got for you.”

In a heated delirium, Christina believed him like she was hearing gospel. She sucked harder and Frank rewarded her immediately, giving her a mouthful of salty cum. It spurted over her tongue and hit her tonsils. She didn’t like it, imagining how it would feel in her cunt, where it should be, getting her off instead of using her as a simple receptacle.

But the taste was intoxicating. Maybe he’d broken her in, dominated her so thoroughly that she actually liked the rank taste he splattered her with. Christina didn’t know. Her own mind was a whirl. But Frank’s satisfied moans, his approval, it fired in her like a lit flare.

She’d pleased the impossible man, made him happy with her. That made her bruised throat and the pungent musk all glow to her.

“Mmmmmm,” she mumbled around the thick gag still in her mouth.

She’d managed to conquer Frank somehow, as much as he could be conquered. Christina sensed he was a slave to his desire as much as her, only able to wheeze and pump his spurting prick deep into her mouth. His thick arms bulged as they forced her down against his flexing hips, making her take all of his endowment whether it fit or not.

Christina still sucked him as he rutted her, came in her. Emptying him out had become a matter of honor with her. She had to get every last drop of his white-hot cum. She was as hungry for it as she had been for his cock.

Now, sated and nearly sane, Christina could see how desperate she’d been. It had all made so much sense at the time… now it did in a new way. She just needed to be fucked.

She swallowed and lapped up and gloried in his cum until his erection had melted and lost any taste of semen at all. Only then did Christina let it pop out of her mouth. She could’ve gone on milking that thing all night—but Frank probably thought she was enough of a slut already.

She only wanted him to know that she was available; that she was willing to bet she wanted to be fucked as much as he wanted to fuck her. But Christina couldn’t have him thinking she was cheap.

Two lines of cum dribbled from the corners of her lips.

“Go wash up,” Frank told her.

“Buh?” Christina asked, or at least made a sound like she would make if she were asking him something. Her head was down on a thigh that felt powerful as an oak and she enjoyed staring at his fallen manhood—it seethed like it still wanted to fuck her, if only there was any more cum to pump into her holes.

Frank sighed. “Fine. Take a minute. You’ve had a long day.”

Christina shut her eyes. The wiry wakefulness that had driven her to Frank was entirely gone. All she felt now was contentment. She didn’t even mind wearing his cum. Warm and soft, she wanted to rub it all over her body, but she was just so tired. Even her horniness wasn’t a match for how exhausted she was…