The Interrogation Room Read Free Page A

as his cock hit the back of my throat.
     
    “Just relax and enjoy Jean-Claude,” I tried to say, my mouth full with his cock. I continued moving my lips around his cock, sucking with my mouth and tickling with my tongue, and slowly pushed my middle finger further up his ass. I knew that if I wasn't careful I'd make him come too soon. I began to fuck his ass with my finger as I bobbed my head up and down his shaft. My pussy ached for him. But he wasn't quite far enough along. I needed him to experience that beautiful agony just short of release.
     
    I slid a second finger up his ass. He bucked his hips against my mouth, making me gag again. I coughed. His cock was huge. Well-proportioned, but huge. I knew, at that moment, that I had him almost where I wanted him.
     
    “I haven't ever taken anything in my ass before,” he gasped, in between breaths. He was only a razor's width from the brink, but I couldn't let him come. Not yet. I wanted him to take that tight ass of his, those muscular legs and strong, confident arms, and hold me and fuck me in my tight aching pussy.
     
    A strange day that's getting even stranger , I thought. Here I was fingering the asshole of a handsome French security officer in a windowless interrogation room somewhere deep in the bowels of Charles de Gaulle airport. Somewhere else in the same airport, there was a piece of luggage with my name on it that had been packed with over a kilo of coke, by the looks of the photos, and I was on the edge of just being able to walk away from it all. And had I been in a sane state of mind, I would have walked out of that room and onto the next New York flight without a second look back. I would have been counting the seconds until the cabin door closed and the wheels lifted off the tarmac and we were on our way back to the good ole' USA. But I hadn't just walked away. My longing for Jean-Claude had gotten in my way. I wouldn't be leaving until I'd fulfilled that burning desire, that need to be filled and stretched out and fucked that I knew only one person could satisfy.
     
    “Oh mon dieu, oui ,” said Jean Claude. “ Oui, comme ça. ” It turned me on when he lapsed back into French. I thought his accent was cute.
     
    Couldn't I take you home? I'd present you to my friends as the officer who let me go and then filled me up with ten inches of Europe's finest French cock. Oh you will fill me up, won't you?
     
    Jean Claude's hips started to push more forcefully against me as my mouth sucked more pre-come from his cock. I knew that if I increased the pressure of my mouth only slightly, or jerked him off with just a slightly faster cadence, I 'd be swallowing his hot come in my mouth and that would be all. And if we had more time, if I knew I'd see him again, that would have been fine. But there wouldn't be another time. I knew that.
     
    I pulled my mouth off his cock and stood up in front of Jean-Claude. My nipples were hard and my pussy felt so empty that I could hardly stand it.
 
    “ Jean-Claude, do you want me? All of me? Because I'm ready for you. I need you.” My hand reached for his chest and I felt the hard muscle underneath. His mouth moved toward mine and we kissed again, slowly. I surrendered. It was as though my consciousness forgot the past and stopped considering the future. I was living in just that moment.
     
    Our kisses grew less measured, more ravenous as we devoured one another. He kissed me on the side of my neck again, and I moaned and felt a shiver of excitement from his touch. His hands moved to my tits, and I raised up my arms to take off my shirt. He slid it up over my head and threw it on the table with the handcuffs. I felt his fingers close around my nipples, sending those familiar electric sensations of pleasure throughout my body, awakening that fire building once more deep in my belly. I needed him inside me.
     
    “Turn around and lean over the table,” he said.
     
    I knew that this was it. This was it . The moment