Blake Michaels - Ass Reaming

But I was not to be denied. I needed that cock. I had to have that cock.

My face fell to it. I swallowed, hard. I gagged. I choked. Saliva spewed from my lips, wetting his groin. My eyes watered. My ears rang.

Whizz! Whizz! Whizz! The thong beat me over and over.

But I was not to be denied. Cock… I had to have cock.

The sudden boldness of my attack caugM him off his guard.

He was mine. He was spread under me.

I took his balls in my hand and pulled them forward, mashing my face into them hard. Pressing down on them with all my might.

I ignored the pain in my throat. I ignored the ringing in my ears. I was going to have his cock.

I shoved his balls deep between his legs, pulling his cock up straight away from his body.

I raised my head and slammed it back into him. I took him to the hilt. I swallowed his manhood. I was serving my master.

Slobber flowed from my mouth but I couldn't be bothered by it. I lunged at his crotch, over and over, each time lodging his rampant rod in my throat.

I forced the head to creep down into my larynx. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't make a sound. I could only cling desperately to this pole of life.

I could only serve my master.

"Oh, shit… is she something else. Wow!" Bruce was talking to Lana.

"Watch this whore work. Watch her. She eats that cock like it's a matter of life or death. Now that's the mark of a good slave."

I continued my ravenous attack on his manhood.

He pulled my head up, yanking roughly on my hair. He turned my face to his.

He spat in it! Then he slammed it back into his groin.

"Okay, you slut," he spat, his words drenching me in depravity. "Eat. Suck. Love. Worship… "

His cock was rigidly unbending. It was inflexible. It was a steel shaft spearing my face over and over, with my full consent. With my total desire. With all my strength.

"Oh, God! Suck it… yeah… slave… suck it good."

He began. His words spilling from his mouth rapidly. Each one of them pulling me deeper and deeper into the pit of sexual madness.

I couldn't have stopped if I had to. I couldn't have taken that cock from my face if that was the only thing left to do in life.

I would have died with it lodged in my face. I would have killed just to have it lodged there.

I was aware, vaguely, of my cunt being toyed with. It was a mouth. But I had my mission to complete. I had to see it through.

With animal fury I continued pounding down on the groin under me.

Now and then I heard an unintelligible sound slip from my mouth. I heard my breath rap as I gulped in fresh air, only to renew my attack.

I felt the bed bounce, felt the body rise and fall under me.

I was relaxed. The cock was passively allowing me to feed on it.

Like a maggot I devoured it. I fed on it. I thrived on it. Each lunge gave me renewed strength.

My ears were plugged. My eyes were blinded by my own tears. I could barely see.

My nose was stopped up, the slave was insane. The slave was killing herself.

The slave was me.

"Yeah… just a little more, that's it, just a little more, those lips, that mouth, oh, you mother fucker! You've done it… you've got that milk you've been after… drink it… drink it… " I gulped. I drank.

The thick globs of his sperm splattered against the roof of my mouth. They filled my throat. The taste was strong, very strong. The odor reached my plugged nose. It cleared it!

I devoured it. I swallowed it. I drank it. I ate it.

His shaft vibrated with its orgasm. It throbbed and pulled at the sides of my mouth and throat. It lunged into me. It ran from me.

But my mouth would not be denied. I chased it. I cornered it. I captured and devoured it.

Finally there was no more; I slowed my pace. Finally I stopped.

I raised myself to my knees and looked at the man lying beneath me. He was gasping. He was panting. He had spent himself. His long, sensual body still smelled of passion, of sex.

I wanted him to fuck me. I had to have him fuck me. I continued toying with his softening tool. Little drops of life appeared at the opening. My tongue snaked out and whisked them away as soon as they formed.

I straddled him.

I placed the head of his still semi-hard cock at the lips of my cunt.

I felt myself falling over the edge of the bed, my face stinging from the clout he had just given me.

"Not yet, you starved, depraved no good mother-fucking bitch! Not until I tell you. That cock is going in your cunt only when I'm good and ready for it to happen, understand?"

I was, after all, his slave.

It was very late when I awoke from the sleep I had fallen into after Bruce and his friend, Lana, left. I had to go to sleep. I was completely exhausted.

But now I was wide awake, and it was three in the morning.

I thought of making some coffee and turning on my television, but the itching sensation in my groin told me I needed the company of people, particularly, males.

I slipped into a light dress and walked down the two blocks from my apartment building to the all night coffee shop.

The streets were deserted.

Inside the diner there was only one other patron; a black man.

I sat at the other end of the counter and ordered coffee from the little old man who waited on me.

I tried to ignore the black patron, but my mind wouldn't leave him alone. It continued to dwell on the thought of his nude body pressing down on mine; and his big cock fucking me.

I stole a glance out of the corner of my eye and saw that he was eyeing me, too.

I finished my coffee and left.

Walking down the street slowly, I soon felt a hand around my shoulder. I turned; it was the black man.

"It's a little late to be out walking alone, isn't it?" he asked in a soft, well modulated voice.

"I just live down the block," I said, looking at his crotch.

His pants were tight and I could tell that there was something bulky housed there.

"Do you live alone?" asked the very attractive black man.

"Well… yes," I hesitantly said.

I wasn't certain that I should give out that kind of information to a total stranger.

"What are you doing up this late on a Sunday night?" I asked.

"Just killing time. I really don't have anything to do," he went on, "so I thought I'd kill some time by taking a walk. Do you mind if I walk with you?"

"No," I said before I could stop my thought.

I was beginning to want this man. He got to me for some reason. He was very attractive, and I still needed satisfaction. What I had had in the afternoon had nearly whetted my sexual appetite.

Bruce… I wondered what he would think if he knew what was on my mind.

Would he be offended at having a black cock up his slave's pussy or ass hole?

The thought intrigued me. It would be degrading to tell him, later.

I had resolved.

"I know this may sound silly," I began, "but why don't you come back to my place. We can talk, if you like, because" I don't really feel sleepy, myself."

"That would be fine with me," he agreed, his voice remaining calm and controlled.

We were in my apartment in no time.

"Make yourself comfortable," I offered. "May I fix you a drink?"

"That would be nice… bourbon, if you have it," he finished.

I poured him a good, tall drink and sat next to him on the couch.

Here, in the light of my living room, I could see the outline of his cock. It was, it seemed, huge. I hoped it wasn't all balls.

"You don't look very comfortable," I said, getting up and walking around behind him. "Why don't you slip this off?" I said, slipping his jacket off his shoulders. Under it, I felt the muscular arms flex and move fluidly with my motions.

He leaned forward silently, and allowed me to slip his jacket off.