Millie
Viktor drives us to his penthouse downtown, and I can feel my panties getting soaked as I mentally replay the moment that his hand slipped down my body and tore my underwear down. I always thought I was the kind of girl who valued slow, tantric sex, but being with Viktor makes me feel like I’m ready to jump into his lap and grind on him as he swerves through traffic. I’ve never wanted someone to make me their whore more in my entire life, and I know that’s exactly what Viktor wants to do.
When we arrive at the penthouse, I’m shocked to discover that he not only owns the entire building but that he has a private elevator that takes us to the very top of the skyscraper, spitting us into his living room.
I have barely any time to gaze at the intricately decorated luxury apartment before Viktor grabs me and lifts me off the floor, wrapping my legs around him and bracing me up against the wall. He kisses me deeply, just as he had at the restaurant, and now I feel uninhibited enough to truly melt into the experience and let him take me completely.
He bites my lower lip and feels my left breast as he grinds his hard cock between my legs. I can feel that it’s huge, bigger than anything I’ve ever had before. While this possibility fills me with a pointed sense of both dread and curiosity, I know he’s got me wet enough to take the whole thing.
I’ve done it once before, and I can do it again.
Just as I begin to grind into him and find a rhythm, he removes me from the wall and tosses me over the side of the couch, pulling my panties off completely and exposing my bare ass, still a bit red from when he’d spanked me days before.
“I see you haven’t forgotten our previous encounter,” he scoffs, smacking me just above my thighs, causing me to yelp.
When the sting dissipates, it emphasizes the throbbing in my pussy, and I spread my legs for him, showing off how slick and swollen he’s gotten me before he’s even fucked me.
He spanks me again, this time a bit lighter because I’m still sensitive. At least he isn’t a complete monster, but something about that is even more alarming. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a little bitch about having me come around, I wouldn’t have to be doing this,” he says. “This is for your own good.”
Having the spankings reframed as a punishment for being cold and indifferent towards him ignites something deep within me that desires nothing more than to be punished by his hand for whatever he pleases. I want to be his plaything.
He momentarily stops spanking me, running his hand up my inner thigh and teasing my pussy with two of his fingers. I want him to spread me wide and take me. I need to feel him inside of me again, and I’m growing more and more impatient the longer he toys with me this way.
Just as I feel as if I’m going to scream for him to fuck me, I hear him undoing his belt, and my stomach drops in excitement and anticipation as I remember the overwhelming sensation of feeling him slide deep inside of me for the first time.
I’m dripping down my legs now. I’m ready for him.
He teases the opening of my vagina with the head of his cock, and I press myself into him without a second thought, begging him silently for more and more until he’s pounding me mercilessly.
He chooses instead to ease inside slowly, allowing me to feel every inch of himself as he slides in. The pressure of him throbbing against the inner walls of my pussy makes me grip the couch cushions until I’m damn near clawing a hole through them.
I feel his hands on my hips where they fell so naturally before, clasping around the crest of my hip bones as he begins to move rhythmically against me. I’m already standing on my toes as I’m overwhelmed from the sensation, and if I’d known him a bit better, I’d probably be ready to cum in a matter of minutes.
But I can’t let him win so easily.
I ease myself down into the couch more, allowing him to penetrate deeper as I struggle to hold back the wave of nearly incapacitating contractions that are building up inside my entire lower body. Just as I’m certain he’s about to cum before me, he slows down, tormenting me as I dance on the edge of orgasm.
He knows what he’s doing. He’s going to make me cum first.
He shocks me back into my body by spanking me again, this time harder and more targeted than he had been before. Then he was only playing. Now he wants me to know exactly who I belong to, and he’s going to remind me again and again until my brain is empty of anything but his enormous cock.
I arch my spine as one of his hands reaches up my back and wraps around my throat, pulling me up closer to him and bending me nearly in half as he continues thrusting hard and fast. I’m dripping down my legs now, helpless to the now-excessive amount of arousal I’m experiencing at Viktor’s hand. I’ve never felt so captivated by the way a man has handled me during sex, and right now, I would let him pick me up and toss me around like a ragdoll.
Just as I’m nearing the edge again, ready to succumb to the vicious pulsing in my pussy, he picks me up and places me on the back of the couch so that I’m facing him, and I wrap my arms around his back to keep myself from falling backward.
His hand finds my hair, taking a fistful at the roots and pulling my head back as he begins to kiss my neck, increasing the aggression of his rhythm and overwhelming me with a sublime rush of pleasure that I’m certain is taxing my dopamine receptors like they’ve never experienced before.
Is this how addictions begin? I’m certain there’s an element of addiction to sexual attraction, especially under such circumstances. Right now, Viktor is my drug of choice.
He slows down again, softening his grip on my hair without completely letting go and allowing me to fully feel the extent of ecstasy that he’s gifted me. As I’m growing closer and closer to orgasm, he chooses to indulge me instead of tearing me down from my precipice, angling my hips upward to give him the most depth.
Only a few thrusts later, I’m nearly blind from the rush of my climax.
I dig my nails into his back as he fucks me relentlessly, prolonging my pleasure as long as he can. I’m moaning so hard that my breath is getting caught in my throat, and I’ve never heard myself sound so desperate and submissive during sex before. Viktor has brought out something primal in me that no man before him has been able to come close to. I want to melt into him and allow him to take me over and over.
He picks me up from the back of the couch and shifts me to the nearest wall, holding me up as he had before and fucking me against the firm surface. I feel like I’m flying, being held up so effortlessly as he thrusts his cock in and out of my dripping wet pussy like it’s nothing.
The way he looks into my eyes as he nears orgasm sends a chill up my spine, as if he’s both in love with me and waiting to swallow me whole.
When he cums, he grips me so tightly in his arms that for a moment, I feel like I could be crushed into fragments of myself. I feel his cum pumping into me, filling me up with something I really should be doing my best to avoid.
His breathing slows, and he pulls away from me a bit, gazing into my eyes as if I’m the one who has shown him a whole new side of himself instead of him revealing something in me.
I couldn’t have had that kind of impact on him. There’s no way. I’m sure he has sex like this often, like a performance.
He’s about to say something when his phone begins to ring obnoxiously in his coat pocket, and he awkwardly slips away from me, composing himself as he fumbles for his phone.
“Stepan, what’s up?” he says, his expression turning from contented awkwardness to stone-cold sober.
Whatever is being said is bothering him deeply, and I feel the flush of anxiety coming over me. The tension in the air has changed the atmosphere completely.
“Shit, okay. I’ll be right there,” he replies after an uncomfortably long period of silence. He hangs up the phone, and his eyes tell me that his night is about to take a turn for the worst. “Hey, this is really unfortunate, but I have to go take care of something. You can stay here while I’m gone, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way back, okay?” he says as he places his phone back into his pocket and pulls his keys out.
“Um, yeah, that’s fine,” I reply, uncertain of whether or not it’s appropriate for me to be staying in his apartment. I haven’t gotten a good look at it quite yet, but from what I’ve seen, he’s got quite a lot to preserve here. I’m practically a perfect stranger. How can he trust me so quickly?
“Alright, good. I’ll see you later. Just try to relax,” he replies, and before I can respond, he’s out the door, swiftly locking it behind him and leaving me in the eerily quiet space of his perfectly furnished home.