The Playboy's Proposition Read Free

against his hard
dick that was trapped between our bodies.
    He said, “Put your hands on your head, lock your fingers
together like that. Yes. Now, ask me to suck your tits. Say, please suck my
tits, Master.”
    I grabbed some air and managed to say, “Please, suck my ...
tits, Master.”
    “Say it again, like you mean it.”
    “Please, suck my tits, Master.”
    “Gladly, sweet one,” and he leaned forward and sucked one of
my nipples into his mouth.
    I panted and melted into the sensations of his hot mouth on
my breasts and his hands gripping my hips, pushing and pulling me against his
engorged cock, and me joining in the rhythm of the grind, my wetness smoothing
the ride.
    Michael nibbled at my breasts and nipples. Tiny little
bites, soft love bites. In between nibbles, he asked, “Do you like that?”
    I moaned out a yes.
    He bit down harder then said, “Yes what.”
    I gasped. “Yes ... Master.”
    He murmured, then continued suckling and nibbling my
breasts. I closed my eyes and rode him.
    When he finally pulled away from me, he told me to put my
hands on his shoulders for balance, then he had me rise up onto my feet into a
crouched position over his lap. He held his dick and had me lower my body until
the head of his cock was pressed against my opening. He told me to hold the
position.
    It was not an easy thing to do. I was trying to hold a low
squat, my knees spread wide to either side. I had a tight grip on his
shoulders, and within a minute my thigh muscles were beginning to ache from the
pressure of crouching. But the worst of it was having his dick right there,
teasing me. I wanted him inside me.
    Michael, meanwhile, was eyeing my pussy. I could not have
been more open to his view. He pinched and pulled at my labia.
    My legs began to quiver. He said, “Keep holding it. I love
seeing you like this. You’re all wet and slick, and ready for me, but you can’t
have it, not quite yet.”
    He pulled and pinched and pulled. I moaned. He smiled and
licked his lips. He said, “Tell me you want my dick.”
    I panted and answered, “Yes, I want your dick.”
    “No,” he said.
    I quickly responded, “Yes, I want your dick, please,
Master.”
    “How do you want it?”
    “I want it inside me, Master ... please.”
    “No, say it filthy and raw, and real.”
    I said, “Please, Master. I want your dick in my pussy.”
    “Whose pussy is it? You’re forgetting what’s what.”
    “Okay. Yes. Right. Please, Master, I want your dick in my
hole. I mean your hole. Fuck me, Master.”
    He growled and ran a thumb over my clit. I fought to hold my
position with my quivering legs.
    He gave me one last sharp pinch then said, “Lower yourself,
Sweet. Slowly.”
    I did. I felt myself stretch to take in the size of him, the
hard width and length. I groaned.
    He said, “Take it all. All the way. Yes, like that.”
    I could feel the head of his penis pushing deeply into me,
all the way down to the hilt. He filled me and then some.
    “Move your hips in little circles,” he said.
    I did. Mmm, so good. So good having him inside me. Then he
had me rise up again, back into my former position, and he had me hold it for a
few moments while he played with me, then I was allowed to lower myself back
down again and circle my hips. Then up again. Hold. Then down. And circle. Up.
Hold. Down. Circle.
    Every time he flicked my clit I was in danger of coming. He
warned me not to orgasm, ordering me to wait until he told me to come. I hadn’t
expected anything different. But it was hard. It was hard to take in all these
sensations, to feel the heat and pressure growing in my lower belly, and know I
couldn’t release it. So hard.
    He said, “I love seeing my dick slide into you. Your pussy
spreading open to take it all. Tell me you want to please me.”
    “I do,” I managed to say between my gasps. “I do want to
please you, Master.”
    “Good. Then take it all. Yes. Now switch to your knees ...
like that, yes. Hands back on your