Girl Trade - full length erotic adventure novel (Xcite Erotic Romance Novels) Read Free Page B

wasn’t that, of course, far from it, but the pure mechanics of sucking that man’s cock had become unconsciously no different from sucking Bobby’s cock, something he couldn’t get enough of, and something I had control over, as I had control over Bobby.
    Was that why I had grown bored with him? Was that why I had set off for the most remote part of the Canary Islands on my own? I had wanted an adventure and got more than I’d bargained for.
    Perhaps I had been spanked for trespassing and giving head in this way was payment for my being helped to get back to La Gomera?
    I comforted myself with this thought and did that thing I know men like: I rimmed the eye of his penis, the tip of my tongue nursing and nudging all the nerve endings on the bulging head. He stiffened and relaxed again. He was in no hurry. He pushed his cock back into the depths of my throat, gripped the scruff of my hair and forced my head back and forth in slow even strokes. Just as it had felt as if my arms were a machine as I swam to the island, now my whole body was a machine focused on the turbine of my stretched mouth slipping and sliding and slurping and sucking at his engorged penis.
    The man started to groan and grunt. He was about to come, but at that moment, he removed his cock and sprayed his seed over my face, into my eyes, my nose, the sticky hot goo running down my cheeks, dripping from my chin and landing on my breasts. After overcoming my fears and trying my best to be a good sport sucking his cock, I felt dirty, sullied, dumbfounded. No man had ever done this to me before. It was so degrading, so decadent, so alien to who I was. Who I thought I was.
    The man let out a long sigh and pushed his cock back into my open mouth. I started sucking him off again, the flesh greasy and moist with his semen, and I kept on draining that length of flesh, drawing out every last speck of sperm until his cock grew flaccid and he withdrew.
    If I thought it was over, it wasn’t. He shook his penis a couple of times, let out another sigh, and pissed over me. It was hard at first to comprehend what was happening as the yellow arc of hot pee struck my face and I sat there on my knees as the liquid ran over my neck, my breasts, my waist, into my pubic hair and down over my thighs. I wanted to move away, but I was paralysed in shock, with horror. I closed my eyes and squeezed my nails into my palms. I couldn’t imagine anything more degrading, more perverted, more beastly. Being pissed over made sucking the man off and even being spanked seem normal.
    He shook the drips from the tip and tossed his cock back into the folds of his tunic. As he did this, he looked back at me and I saw in his inscrutable expression a trace of condescension. I felt debased and demoralised, but at least I hadn’t antagonised him. He was a man and I was a naked young girl. I had made a mistake setting off for the island without wearing my costume and he had taken advantage of me. It was unforgivable. It was totally unacceptable. It was probably illegal. But it was natural, too, and more terrible imagining what had happened there on the beach than what had actually happened.
    Deep down in a secret place I would rather not have peeped into, I felt an inexpressible sense of incredulity that I had been able to perform fellatio on a stranger and, dare I admit it, a sense of strange obscene pleasure. Girls have fantasies of being alone on desert islands, of being naked and having sex with men who appear from the sea. I had lived the dream, the fantasy. Being spanked and sucking his cock had been terrible, yet not so terrible.
    But why had he pissed over me when he could have turned away and pissed on the beach? What did this mean? Was I marked as his property as dogs mark trees and doorways? Was it to show that I was nothing, less than nothing, that to him I meant no more than the patch of sand where he could have aimed his urine? I had a million questions and I was still on my knees