Flirting Has Consequences free porn video

Slightly startled, Carissa turns when she hears my voice. She didn't expect to hear my voice at the gas pump behind her. If she is staring, she certainly don't remember. Tall broad shoulders, with short gray hair and dark eyes crinkling to bit of mirth around the corners. Mid fifties she thought, perhaps a bit older. A sophasticted man, but it's the mischievous look that always captures her attention. Eyes like those beg for a tease. my eyes slowly traversed the length of her body, stopping briefly in a way of assessing and taking stock. I lifted MY head and nodded ever so slightly, flashing a grin as if to say I liked what I saw. Slightly embarrassed but highly intrigued by the way I grazed her body so carefully, she found herself thinking that one good turn deserved another. I had returned to my car to fill my tank. I was facing her, one hand holding the pump, the other on my hip. She is still smiling as she spotted the washer fluid half way between us. She sauntered over and carefully placed her feet far enough apart to comfortably bend at the waist while she grabbed the handle of the wiper. Her spaghetti strapped low cut top, now gaping at the front, showed just enough of her smallish breasts and the distinct line between tanned and creamy white flesh. Still bent over, she hesitated, and raised her head to meet my eyes before lifting the wiper from the watery bin and grabbing a clean blue cloth from the holder. She wanted me to know this is solely for my pleasure. As our eyes locked, she realized I fully appreciated the game. She flashed a grin my way as she stood up and returned to her car.

I took a picture of her and sent it to my assistant with a message, I recieved a message back the information requested. Carissa; age 22, never married, no current steady boyfriend, is in marketing divison and attending the conference today. Carissa has been looking forward to this conference for the past six months--ever since she had been promoted to assistant manager of my company's marketing division. She is looking forward to meeting some of her new colleagues in other companies, honing her leadership skills, and making contacts that might prove valuable in the future. At the first conference session, Carissa had the good fortune to be seated next to a older man, probably thirty years older. He was well over six feet tall, with a square jaw, gray hair and dark eyes. My name tag indicated I held an important management position in one of her industry's leading companies, and Carissa knew immediately that I was someone she should get to know. My name is John, she found out as they introduced themselves, and she is attracted to me immediately. They exchanged little asides during the afternoon presentations and she could sense that the attraction is mutual. When the sessions are over, they shook hands and parted, but not before I held her hand just a little too long. Carissa's knees suddenly turn to jelly, and a she feels that fluttery sensation in her belly as she headed back to her room.

She only had an hour to get herself ready for the cocktail reception that is being sponsored for the attendees by one of the conference vendors. Inspired by her meeting with me and the delicious feelings it had stimulated, Carissa set aside the conservative business suit she had planned to wear in favor of a sexy black dress that she had purchased in a boutique as she shopped the day before. She had hoped the dress and sexy lingerie she'd also purchased. But, instead, here she is, slipping the thigh-high stockings over her shapely legs and allowing the tiny black silk thong to nestle seductively between the cheeks of her firm, round ass. As she smoothed the dress and ran her hands over the delicate fabric, Carissa wondered whether she should be wearing the new balconette bra. It lifted her breasts dramatically to emphasize her cleavage, but didn't quite cover her nipples, which would most certainly show clearly through the wispy fabric of the short black dress. She was a little uncertain about the thigh-highs, too, as the dress was flared from the waist and so short that the tops would surely show if she got the least bit careless with her movements.

Besides, she is hoping against hope that I would be at the reception and she can't wait to see my reaction. After applying the finishing touches to her makeup and her dark, curly hair, Carissa is out the door and riding the elevator toward the penthouse suite where the reception is to be held. She made her way from the elevator to Room 4901 and stepped through the open door into a crowd of conference participants. They are huddled tightly in little bunches in the posh suite, eating, drinking, and attempting to impress each other. Carissa immediately caught sight of me, as I'm taller then most of the people there. I'm holding court with a knot of about six people gathered around me. She took a glass of wine offered by one of the waiters as she entered and casually made her way toward my group. She is careful not to look as if she is seeking me out, but in reality, she can't wait to be close to me. Carissa feels the crowd in the room part and dozens of eyes fix on her as she moves gracefully toward where I'm standing. But she didn't care about those dozens of eyes—she is only interested in seeing the expression in those dark eyes of mine when I first see her. She is not disappointed with my reaction, as I noticed her just as she positioned herself on the edge of the small group I had taken over. Those intense eyes locked onto her and glided over her body, pausing at all the right places. I made no pretense of making this a casual glance. I'm taking my time and memorizing every curve of Carissa's luscious body, and she feels her cheeks flush at the directness of my gaze. With one of my colleagues in mid-sentence, I abruptly step away and reach for Carissa's hand.

I took it in mine, and surprised her by twirling her around as if we were on the dance floor. Smiling broadly, I gave out a long, low whistle. Carissa is embarrassed by the attention I'm drawing to her, and she is made further uncomfortable with the knowledge that her little pirouette had probably exposed the tops of her stockings. Maybe more. " You're definitely not dressed for work this evening, Carissa," my eyes surveying her once more before lingering a little too long on her breasts. She is now acutely aware of how hard her nipples have become. " Just what is it you are dressed for?" As Carissa tried desperately to think of an adequate comeback, her full, red lips parted as if she were about to speak. But nothing came out, and she stood there with an expression that is some weird combination of sexually aroused and downright goofy. Finally, she is able to form a coherent sentence, " Oh, I found this little thing when I went shopping yesterday. I thought I'd test drive it tonight." Her cheeks reddened further as she realized how lame that sounded, but she tried to hide her discomfort behind a smile. I smile back, making Carissa feel a little more confident, but then quickly knocked her off balance again. " Well, I plan to get behind the wheel myself tonight. I always enjoy putting a new model through her paces." Carissa is suddenly aware that I had been guiding her as we talked over to a far corner of the suite, away from the bar and most of the people. The hum of conversation is much lower as we separated our selves from the other guests and I lower my voice to just above a whisper. " Did you wear that special outfit for me tonight, Carissa?" There went the knees again. And the butterflies are back, too. She realized her back is literally against the wall and that I'm standing much too close for comfort. Although we weren't actually touching, I had taken over about 95 percent of her personal space. And my smell.

That familiar but indefinable aroma that said MAN. She is also acutely aware of my eyes again, now staring quite obviously at her cleavage. I'm making no pretense of being discrete. It is as if I wanted her to be sure and notice that I'm noticing. And, of course, it would be impossible not to notice those 34-C breasts, which are lifted high by the new bra and put on display by the deep V neckline of her dress. And I'm at least a foot taller than her 5 feet, 3 inches, had the best view in the house. Carissa is still trying to figure out how to answer my question . . . without admitting that the answer is yes, she did wear the dress for me tonight. And yes, she wore the stockings, the bra and the sexy little thong for me, too. " It's okay, Carissa. Sometimes I tease a little too much. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable." Then I made her even more uncomfortable by reaching out and resting my hand on her shoulder, allowing the back of the hand to just graze her left breast as I did so. Even my ever-so-brief touch causes her nipple to grow rock hard and put itself on proud display through the thin black fabric of her dress. But at the same time, my big hand resting on her shoulder made her feel somehow safe. She relaxed a bit as she gazed up into my dark eyes. The next half hour passed quickly as the two of them talked and touched and acted as if they are the only people in the room. Carissa surprised herself at how much she revealed to me about her personal life—the rocky relationship with her boyfriend, her enjoying this chance to get away and gain a little perspective. We talked about her work and me, and before we knew it, most of the other guests had trickled out of the room. On the way out, one of the men who had been talking with me when Carissa arrived, called out, " Hey John, some of us are heading down to the lounge to keep this party going.

Come join us!" I waved at him to acknowledge the invitation and returned my gaze to Carissa. " How about it? Are you up for another drink? I'll even let you dance with me if you ask real nice." How could she possibly turn down an invitation like that? I took her firmly by the arm and hustled her out into the hallway, calling for the last group from the reception to hold the elevator. The two of them slipped in just before the doors closed and they started the long ride down to the hotel lounge on the first floor. Carissa is positioned in front of me, who had casually rested my hands on each of her elbows. I wasn't holding them, exactly, just sort of maintaining contact. And, truthfully, the feel of my large hands on her bare arms was very nice. Comforting and arousing at the same time. The elevator made several stops on its way down, and by the time they had reached the 30th floor, Carissa and I found themselves at the back of the car with quite a crowd pressing toward them from the front. Being smaller than almost everyone in the elevator, she found herself being jostled around a little, and she instinctively leaned back into me for support. As she is thinking how nice if feels to have this large, steady figure to lean on, she feels my hands grip her elbows more firmly and pull her back even closer to me. Now, not only are Carissa's head and shoulders resting against my chest, her hips are being pressed tightly into my thighs and crotch. Realizing that she is perhaps a little too close for comfort, she attempted to move forward a little, but my firm hands kept her in place, and actually pulled her to me even tighter.

It is then that Carissa first became aware that my cock is nestling squarely between the upper part of the cheeks of her firm, round burr. Carissa gasps audibly at this intimate touch from a man, she hadn't even known for eight hours, and at the realization that this relative stranger is pulling her tighter to me. I lean over her shoulder, put my mouth very close to her ear, and whisper, " Shhhhhhh." And with that, she feels my cock begin to slide slowly and sensuously along her backside as I begin to move against her—imperceptibly to the rest of the elevator passengers—but oh so obvious to her! It isn't long before the two of them developed a nice little rhythm to their movements—quite subtle, but extremely erotic. She closed her eyes and pressed back into me, trying to visualize the cock that is bringing such pleasure to her. It is not completely erect, but she can feel it growing with each little movement she made against it. She is sure it is big, maybe abnormally so. And not just in length. The girth of it is what made her gasp when the thing first pressed against her. It is easy for Carissa to feel it as it slithered against her backside. Her dress is extremely thin, and her tiny thong provided no cover at all beneath. The elevator lurched to a stop for more passengers on the 10th floor, and as they climbed aboard, Carissa is pressed even harder into my invading cock. By now, her main concern is the moisture that had been building in her pussy ever since I took her arm at the reception. She knew I had been making her wet from the moment I asked if she had dressed for me that evening.

But by this time, her arousal—and therefore her lubrication—are nearly out of control. Carissa bit her lip and hoped her juices would not escape the little black thong and start dribbling down her legs before the elevator reached the lobby. When the chime sounded to signal their arrival at the first floor, she almost jumped out of her skin. She had closed her eyes and drifted away to another place, aware only of the feel of my huge cock caressing her backside and my strong hands pulling her to me. Her senses and emotions are on fire, and the sudden chime and the slight jolt as the car came to a stop, caused her to gasp audibly. Several pairs of eyes turned toward the back of the car before the passengers begin to depart. She and I were the last to exit. I pressed one hand lightly into her backside as I escorted her into the lobby, which is now teeming with conference participants, some getting ready to head out to dinner in Dallas, and others heading for the lounge to continue the party. Carissa knew instinctively that she should get right back in the elevator, push the button for the 12th floor and retreat to her room. She should call her boyfriend, make small talk about the conference, tell him she missed him, then go to bed early and masturbate for the rest of the evening. After the ride down the elevator with my cock shoved against her, she knew she is going to cum very soon. The only question is how she is going to do it. And she understood that she would be making a deliberate choice between masturbation and me.

The elevator doors slide shut. And there is Carissa, still standing in the lobby, worried about the state of her saturated thong, and ready to head to the lounge with the biggest cock she has ever felt. And with a man she hardly knew attached to it. The hotel lounge is down a long hall from the lobby, and she can feel the pulse of the music before she even got to the doorway. There is something primal about the throbbing base. It even made her forget about the pounding of her heart for a moment. I open the door for her and guided her through, and we were hit in the face with the full effect of the live band. It is a five member group covering a lot of oldies from the 60's and 70's—music that her parents had made her listen to as a child and which she had come to enjoy as she matured. " When a maaaan loves a womaaaan . . ." As soon as I heard the old Percy Sledge classic, I didn't even wait to find a table. I just grabbed her and pulled her onto the small dance floor, which is rapidly filling with other couples. She recognized several who had been at the reception upstairs earlier. She tried to keep me at a "safe" distance as we begin to sway with the sensual music, but it quickly became apparent that "safe" is not my style at all. My strong arms wrap around her waist, and I pull her close. Her face is pressed into my chest and she closed her eyes and luxuriated in that MAN smell once again. Our feet are barely moving, but our bodies swayed back and forth. " If she plays him for a fool . . ."

Suddenly, she is aware of my two hands on her backside, pulling her to me. She is now close enough to feel IT again—IT being that monstrous cock of mine. Only this time, it is getting harder. Somehow I had adjusted myself so that the thing is snaking its way upward, beginning right at the top of her opening and rising to just below her breasts. With this arrangement, the base of it is rubbing her already-swollen clit as I moved, while the rest of the shaft sort of rolled back and forth across her belly. We were so close, and the fabric of her dress so thin, that Carissa can actually feel the outline of the large head that topped the shaft. She closed her eyes and imagined how it must look. She KNEW how it felt as it touched her . . . it felt exciting . . . and naughty . . . and oh, so sexy. And even though thoughts of her boyfriend flashed fleetingly through her mind, she chose to focus on the sensations of that moment. She is feeling things she hadn't felt in a very long time. And she has finally discarded her vain attempts to keep her arousal under control. Carissa pressed her face to my chest with a long low moan and closed her eyes, as she feels her nectar begin to ooze from her panties and trickle down both thighs. " Cause baby, baby, you're my world . . . " As the song ended and the band moved into another—this time a fast one with a primal beat—I locked my arm tightly around her waist and led her over to a dark corner of the lounge, just inside a little hallway that led to the restrooms. Once again, her back is against the wall, but this time I'm definitely touching her. At least my cock is.

My hands are resting against the wall on either side of her face as I lean into her and continue to move my body sensuously, as if the band is still playing " When a Man Loves a Woman." Only this time the music filtering across the dance floor is loud, and hard, and primal. The beat of the base is almost identical to the beat of her heart at that moment—pounding, pulsing, wild. I seem to be oblivious to the people who occasionally made their way down the narrow hallway to the restrooms, although each time someone passed, I lean my body closer to her to give them room. Of course, the effect is to grind myself more fully against her pussy. " John, please. I'm going to have to see some of these people tomorrow. I don't want them thinking I'm some kind of slut." I responded by leaning away from her a little bit, but only so I can slide my right hand between them. I begin to press it between her legs, forcing them open, while I grasped the fabric of her dress and begin to inch it upward. I wadded the thin material in my hand, causing the hem to creep higher. My fingers snaked down and caught some more of the dress and inched it upward further. Soon I had lifted the dress high enough that the tops of her stockings and parts of her creamy thighs are visible to anyone who passed by. And still, that hand pressed against her pussy. Only now the feeling had changed—from erotic to invasive. And, of course, she can still feel IT pressing against her. And IT seems to have grown even larger, harder . . . scarier.

" All right, John, that's enough." Carissa's voice is stern this time, but she definitely sounded more confident than she felt. It is clear, that if I decided to do something, there is no way she could prevent it, short of screaming for help and becoming the focus of every eye in the place. This time, I remove my left hand from the wall and slid it down the front of the low-cut dress. My hand found her left breast, and begin to massage it and pinch the nipple roughly, even as my other hand worked its way fully beneath her skirt and started rubbing her pussy outside the thin thong. Carissa is suddenly embarrassed that I had made her so wet. She knew I could feel the moisture that is dripping down her thighs, and she feels truly ashamed of herself. Was I really going to fuck her right here in the lounge? The rational part of her brain told her no, but everything she is feeling at that moment indicated otherwise. Carissa is beginning to panic, and the eroticism, she had felt earlier as we were dancing, had been replaced with fear and regret. She thought of her boyfriend. How could she have done this to him? How could she have actually worn the outfit she purchased for him, just to impress this beast who is forcing himself on her? She thought of her job—the one she'd only had for a few months. What would her boss think about her when word got back about how she'd behaved at the conference? Fucking some guy in the hotel lounge is definitely not part of her job description! And this asshole that was forcing himself on her right now. Where did he get the idea that she was so fucking easy? Well, maybe she didn't want to answer that last one. Suddenly, her fear turned to anger, and Carissa begins to struggle. But I simply held her two hands and leaned harder against her. And to make it worse, I laughed at her!

The laughter is more than Carissa can take, and she did something that surprised even her. And it certainly surprised me . . . as she braced her left leg against the wall and thrust her right one upward, catching me right in those big balls of mine with her knee. It was probably surprise more than pain that caused me to lose my grip momentarily—just long enough for her to slide from underneath me and hurry back toward the door of the lounge. Fortunately, a man on the way to the restroom inadvertently moved between her and me, giving her a bit of a head start. As she hurried across the dance floor, Carissa tried to smooth her skirt down and re-position the top of her dress so she'd look somewhat respectable when she got back out into the light. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of me. I had thrown the unsuspecting man out of my way and was coming after her. Carissa threw open the lounge door and hustled down the hallway toward the lobby and—she hoped—to safety. But suddenly, a large hand gripped her shoulder and another circled her waist from behind. I had caught up with her just outside a carved wooden door with a sign reading, " Library." I threw open the door and pushed her inside. She looks at me, and is petrified by what she saw. My brown eyes are hard now and my jaw is set. But I wasn't looking at her, exactly. It is more as if I'm looking through her. Instinctively, she knew she needed to keep quiet. She is afraid of what would happen if she didn't. She no longer had any idea what I'm capable of. Carissa's heart inched its way into her throat as I turned around and locked the only door to the empty room. Then I turned to her and smiled—a smile without any warmth or humor.

" Now, Carissa. Where were we?" True to the sign on the door, the room actually is a library—a luxurious one at that. It apparently had been set aside for hotel guests as a quiet place to read, do office work and the like. Three walls were lined with rich oak bookcases, and a massive brick fireplace stood as a focal point on the fourth. Comfortable chairs flanked by tables and reading lamps were scattered around the room, and the dark hardwood floors were accented by several colorful area rugs placed strategically around. A large couch covered in dark brown leather stood in the center of the room, facing the fireplace. Carissa and I seem to notice it at the same time. " This will do quite nicely," I hissed, as I pull her toward the couch. With one rough shove I bent her over one of the overstuffed arms, pressing her face into the soft leather. " My god, John, you don't want to do this!" " Oh yes I do, baby, and you want it, too—ever since the cocktail party. Don't think I didn't notice how hard your nipples were in that sexy dress you wore for me." " But, John . . ." " And you enjoyed that elevator ride as much as I did. Didn't you?!" For emphasis, I pushed her face harder against the couch. Carissa is ashamed that the answer is yes, but she wasn't going to give me the satisfaction of admitting it under these circumstances. But I wasn't really looking for an answer, anyway. And the next thing Carissa knew, I lifted the hem of her dress and threw it up over her back, leaving only the tiny thong and her stockings below her waist. In another few seconds, the thong is gone, too, as I slide my big hand under the waistband and tore it from her body.

With her near-perfect ass bare and thrust upward and her body totally under my control, she has never felt more exposed, either physically or emotionally. " Please, John, how can you possibly do this?" " How can you possibly think I wouldn't do this, baby? You've been flirting and flaunting yourself all day. Did you think you were going to give me a peck on the cheek and send me back to my place to jack off?" Carissa feels one of my hands release its pressure on her back, and she hears the jingling of a belt buckle. She struggles to turn her face to the side just in time to catch a glimpse of that free hand sliding my zipper downward. My slacks slide down my legs to the floor, and it is then Carissa realized I hadn't been wearing any briefs. No wonder she could feel the outline of that big cock so clearly! And then she saw IT for the first time. And IT is every bit as big as she had fantasized. Only in her fantasy, she had dreamed of meeting IT on much friendlier terms. The cock is the biggest one she has ever seen in person, full 9 inches long. The shaft is as big around as her slender wrist, and it is topped by a massive head as large as a plum and about the same color. She can see the veins tracing their way up and down, giving it the look of ridges and valleys under the taught skin. Pre-cum is already oozing from its hole, making the purple head glisten in the subdued light of the library. " My god," she thought. " He's really getting off on this."

But before she could think any more, I took a step forward, allowing just the tip of the massive cock to touch her for the first time, leaving a little wet spot on her left buttock. I then used one foot to kick her legs farther apart, took my hard cock in hand, and begin tracing the head along the outline of her wet slit. I slide it along the length of her several times, leaning in a bit to part her labia slightly. Carissa groans at the feel of it. She is afraid of what a cock that large might do to her tight vagina, but she is ashamed to admit that the feel of something so . . . so alien, aroused her as well. The juices that are oozing from her pussy at that moment are not left over from the elevator ride or the dancing in the lounge. They are stimulated by the look, the feel of my huge, angry cock. But Carissa's arousal is mixed with anger, shame and a feeling of total helplessness into a cocktail of emotions that she can't even begin to understand. The only thing she understood for certain is that she is going to be fucked—probably roughly—and with no regard for her enjoyment or feelings. " For god's sake, John, if you're going to do this, put on a condom!" Carissa can't bear the thought of me spraying my seed inside her and, god forbid, getting her pregnant! But I didn't say a word. I just leaned my body harder into her, guiding my hard cock barely past her labia, which are stretched to the maximum trying to accommodate the massive head. She held her breath as she feels it push past her delicate opening and begin to inch its way slowly inside. " You've been wondering how this would feel for the past two hours, haven't you, baby?"

" No," she hissed back, " I've been wondering if you were enough of an asshole to actually do this to me!" " Oh, baby, you did it to yourself." And with that, I lean over her, resting my hand on the sofa near her head, and with my other hand, brought my hard throbbing cock up between her parted thighs to the warm, hungrily clasping lips of her cunt. Using the blood-filled head to part the fleshy folds, I inched my cock forward until the throbbing tip is
pressed against the moist opening. Carissa turns her head to one side, closing her eyes with a shuddering chill as she feels the immense cock make warm, wet contact with the ragged, sensitive edges of her moist pussy. She held her breath for an eternity, lying perfectly still, waiting for the agonizing pain of my cock driving home in her burning belly. " Oooooooh," she gasps as she feels the pressure against the tight fleshy sheath increase, slowly parting the
pubic curls and spreading the taut lips. " Oh, God... Aaaaaaggghhh," she choked as the tip slips through, painfully stretching the tight opening until Carissa feels as though her thighs are splitting apart from the relentless pressure. I held back as long as I can, an evil leering grin across my face as I look down at the helpless, innocent young woman sprawled beneath me, while the throbbing head of my cock disappears into the blonde curly hair of her pussy. God, it is more than I can stand. I had to fuck her... I had to fuck her now!

I fell forward with a slap as our naked bodies smack together, her soft breasts smashed against the sofa beneath my weight. I thrust my hips forward as I fell, and my long thick cock slams into her cunt like a loaded truck, pushing the soft, pliable walls in rippling waves before it. There is no stopping it until my balls slap heavily into the upturned crevice of her buttocks, and my pelvis ground tight against her naked butt. " Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" she screams beneath me. Never before has she been so completely filled, and my cock feels as if it would rip her in half at any second. I lay still for a moment, my head against her back. Neither made a sound for a long while and then Carissa feels the unmistakable throb of my swelling cock, buried deep in her belly. It jerks up another half inch as I shove it up inside her. " Oooooowwww... you're hurting me," she grunted breathlessly, her face contorting from the deeper, sharper pain. " I told ya I'd stretch that tight little pussy of yours wide, Carissa," I sneered above her, flexing again. " Aaaagggghhhh," she groaned deeper this time, the blood vessels in her neck standing out from the agonizing pressure of her resistance. " Like it, baby?" I growled She didn't answer. " I said... Like it baby?" I gave a hard lunge with my hips, burying my hard cock a little further in her tightly clasping sheath.

" Ooooooo, yes... yes," she cries, terrified to say anything to offend me. " Beg me, then," I hissed between clenched teeth. Carissa squirms from the searing pain. " No... No, I can't." She knew she must escape this final humiliation, if she didn't, there is nothing left, no self-respect, no pride, no fidelity left to her boyfriend. She can't let me have the lewd satisfaction of hearing her beg for it like some slut off the street. I throbbed deeper, and she gritted her teeth to stifle the pain. " Beg me, bitch! Beg me!" " Ooooooh, yes," she sobbed, her resistance broken by
the burning pain and the helplessness of her plight. " Do it to me... do it to me." " Not like that," I growled. " Say fuck me!" " Oh, fuck me! Fuck me!" she screams. Her humiliation and degradation are now complete. She will never be the same again. She has allowed herself to lose control, to surrender all the things she thought were right, and with this man, of all the men on earth. Carissa's body begins to react involuntarily. There is no longer any reason to hold back, to fight the lewd ravages of passion coursing through her. She has lost the battle and nothing can save her now. She feels the burning flames of desire grow hotter and hotter as I begin to mercilessly ram into her, slithering my thick, heavy cock into her hungrily nibbling vagina in a slow erotic rhythm that soon caught her up.
I remembered the first time I'd seen her, how I wanted even then to get in her tight little pants! Well, now I'd show her! Now is my chance!

Her legs spread wide as I stood between them, slamming into her with plundering thrusts, burrowing to the hilt in her innocent young vaginal passage. I slaved over her, moving suddenly into longer smooth strokes that brought my cock almost all the way out of her tightly clasping sheath on the backstroke and then thrusting forward up into her uplifted buttocks until I hear the loud, wet slap of my balls against the unprotected crevice of her anus. I reach down around the smooth, undulating cheeks of her ass and fondled and played with the soft, contracting lips of her pussy where I entered her, bringing softer moans of abandoned passion and at the same time I feel the ever-widening passage of her vagina flowering in its greedy desire to suck in all of my hard, throbbing prick. I'm slamming into her like a pile driver, hot and pulsating and deep, as she squirms beneath me. Her sharp nails dug into the leather sofa as moans begin to come from her half-parted lips. I knew she is almost there, and I clenched my buttocks together tightly in an effort to hold back the seething flood of sperm boiling in my loins. Her gasping moans became a continuous cry, a long, mournful pleading for fulfillment coming straight from her belly. " Oh, God, I'm going to cum... I'm going to cum!" She begins to push back against me, her hips grinding savagely back to meet my deep thrusts halfway. " Don't stop! Don't stop!" The dam suddenly burst. I can't hold back the scorching flood no longer, my cock jerks as the hot, white semen raced along the shaft of my cock and spurted in rapid-fire bursts from the throbbing tip deep into the aching depths of her belly. " Oh, no... not now... Don't stop now, please! Just a little more! I'm almost there! Please!"

" Noooooooooooo," Carissa wails as the orgasm overtook her. Her face contorted with anger, pain, pleasure, and a hundred other emotions. Wave after wave washed over her as she buried her face in the leather couch to muffle her sobs. In her almost unconscious state, she is vaguely aware that I'm still cumming as well. She feels me make two final thrusts, as my cock jerks spurting another load into her. For a few moments there is almost complete silence—only the sound of heavy breathing and the little sobs that Carissa is trying to catch in her throat before they burst out and give me the satisfaction of knowing I had taken her body so completely. " Now, aren't you glad you didn't miss out on that, baby?" It me, but Carissa is hardly even aware of me in her near-total exhaustion. She just lay limp across the arm of the couch, her butt still up in the air. She hears me zip my trousers and fasten my belt. Then she hears something that made no sense to her. " Thank you for a great fuck...see you in my office tomorrow." Carissa looked around, she opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. " By the way, Carissa," I added as I looked at her over my shoulder. " I have some business with your boss. And, of course, you and I will be having dinner one night. I'll be in touch." I finished straightening my tie and turned toward the door. " You'll understand if I don't see you home. And with that, I disappeared through the door.

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