“FUCK ME! Oh god, please fuck me!”
He chuckled softly around my shaft. “Wish I could, sweetheart. I’m a pure bottom… can’t stay hard enough to top. But I can make you feel like a girl if you let me.”
The dirty promise sent me over. I screamed as I came — thick ropes shooting straight down his throat while my ass clamped and spasmed around his fingers. It felt like the orgasm ripped through both ends at once. I collapsed, panting, covered in sweat.
That was night one.
We met every single evening after that.
Night two he had me naked on the bed in five minutes. He spent forty minutes just eating my ass and fingering me open, three fingers this time, scissoring and stretching while he told me how pretty my hole looked when it winked. I came twice — once from his mouth on my cock, once just from his fingers milking my prostate.
By night four I was begging before I even took my jeans off.
“Please… finger me deeper. Make me your little slut.”
He loved it. He started calling me “princess” and “good girl” while he worked my hole. I didn’t correct him. The words made my cock leak.
On the fifth night he brought his friend.
The friend — let’s call him Raj — was forty-eight, tall, muscular, thick-chested, with a heavy seven-inch cock that was already rock-hard when I walked in. He looked me up and down like I was prey.
“So this is the tight young ass you’ve been telling me about,” Raj said, voice deep. He stepped close and cupped my chin. “From now on, you’re not a top anymore. You’re my little girl. Understand?”
I nodded, heart hammering.
Raj stripped me slowly, then pushed me onto the bed on all fours. He rolled a condom on, lubed up, and pressed the fat head of his cock against my hole. The older guy sat in the chair stroking himself, watching.
“Relax, princess,” Raj growled. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you like the pretty girl you are.”
He pushed in. Inch by inch. The stretch was insane — bigger than fingers, hotter, alive. I whimpered like a girl. When he bottomed out, balls deep, I moaned loud and long. He started slow, letting me feel every ridge, then picked up speed. Hard, deep strokes that slapped against my ass.
“Say it,” he ordered, spanking me. “Tell me what you are.”
“I’m… I’m your sassy little girl,” I gasped, voice cracking higher than normal.
He laughed and fucked me harder. “Louder, bitch. Arch that back. Show me how much you love cock.”
I did. I pushed back, moaning, whining, calling him Daddy, begging him to ruin my boy-pussy. The older guy watched, jerking faster. Raj pulled out, flipped me onto my back, threw my legs over his shoulders, and pounded me missionary-style while staring into my eyes.
“Look at you… taking it like a good girl. You were born for this.”
I came without touching my cock — just from the relentless pounding on my prostate — shooting all over my own stomach. Raj followed seconds later, groaning as he filled the condom deep inside me.
After he pulled out, he reached into his bag and pulled out a silky pink babydoll nightie — the kind his wife wore. Tiny lace trim, see-through mesh, short enough that my ass would hang out.
“Put it on,” he commanded.