Kiara
After dinner, he guides me to his room. The lights are dimmed, creating the perfect ambiance for the filthy sex we're about to have. I feel a mixture of excitement and butterflies. This could be the best or worse decision of my life, and I'm ready to find out.
"I'm going to strip you now," he asserts, his voice filled with authority and desire.

"Okay."
His eyes narrow, and immediately I remember that during dinner, he asked me to call him chef.
What in the Gordon Ramsey smut is happening right now? No wonder his cooking was so amazing! I should've guessed he was a chef after that delicious meal.
"Yes Chef." My heart quickens, feeling a surge of anticipation. I trace my tongue along my bottom lip, meeting his gaze, which brims with a ravenous desire.
He pushes my pants past my hips, slowly and tentatively, and I step out of them as they pool at my feet. Then, he yanks up my shirt and tosses it on the floor. I quickly cover my large breasts with my hands.
He growls, "don't you dare hide your delicious body from me!"

"Uh sorry...Chef," I stammer, my cheeks flushing as he firmly guides my hands back to my sides.
"Bend over for me. Now." he demands.
Apparently, I'm not moving fast enough for him because he pushes me forward on the bed. My legs shake as I brace for penetration, but then I feel his hot breath at my core. I moan as his tongue glides down my slit.
"Mmm so sweet," he groans. "You ever been tasted like this, Cupcake?"

There goes that nickname again. Is it crazy that I'm starting to like it?
"No, my ex didn't like giving oral," I answer softly.
He chuckles, his breath fanning against my pussy, "talk about boring."
Before I can reply, he goes back to licking and sucking at my flesh like a starved man at a buffet. "Oh fuck!" I gasp.
Is oral really supposed to feel this good?
He chuckles darkly. "I think you're ready for what I have next."
He sinks a finger into me, thrusting in and out of me at a slow pace. Then, he adds another. Moving in sync, he begins thrusting his digits inside of me as his tongue swirls over and over again on my clit. With two fistfuls of the bedsheet, loud moans escape from my lips and fill the bedroom. Fortunately, I'm drowning in pleasure, and don't care how embarrassing I sound.
In no time at all, I become a whimpering, quivering mess as an orgasm threatens to ricochet through me. But then he suddenly stops, and the pressure goes back down.
"No!" I cry out in frustration.
He chuckles again. "You won't be coming anywhere but on my cock." I tense as his tongue is replaced by the crown of his manhood. He teasingly traces it up and down my pussy lips. "Be a good girl and relax for me."
I moan, pressing my ass back against him so he begins to stretch me. My pussy aches with unbridled need. If he isn't in my guts soon, I might die.
I have never felt desire like this for anyone. No wonder sex with Jordan always seemed so...one sided. After he came, he immediately went to bed and I would have to use my handy dandy vibrator to get myself off.
Now that I think about it, was I boring or we just didn't have any compatibility? I was unhappy with him after a few months, but I stayed because it was nice to be wanted. I bet he felt like King Shit when he was fucking both me and my sister.
My thoughts are interrupted as he slowly works his dick inside me, opening and stretching my walls around him. I didn't get a chance to look at it before, but it must be huge because I feel like it's splitting me in two.
Once he has filled me to the hilt, he stills, waiting for me to get used to his size. "You're so fucking tight, Cupcake," he grunts.
And he's too fucking big!
My face twists in agony. If I make a sound, I won't be able to hold back the scream, so I bite my cheek instead. As the searing burn gradually melts into pleasure, I rock my hips slowly back and forth on his cock. I find a steady rhythm and completely lose myself in the sheer ecstasy of it.
I start to wonder if I'm doing a good job. I don't mind him fucking me from behind, but I really wish I could see his expression. What if I'm not pleasing him correctly?
He suddenly hisses through his teeth, "Goddamn. This pussy is so hot, so wet, so tight for me."
Well, I guess that answers my question. His voice sounds strained like he's trying his hardest not to bust right now. I can't lie and say that doesn't stroke my ego a little.
He grips my hip with one large, calloused hand, the other on the nape of my neck as he pushes my face into the mattress. I arch my back to give him better access. All I can do is hold onto the sheets as he fucks me with a fast, punishing rhythm.
"That's a good fucking girl," he purrs, "take everything I give you."
He pulls me flush against his muscular chest. With a firm hand wrapped around my throat, he latches the flesh of my neck into his mouth, sucking hard.
The thought of him marking me is so hot. He's leaving something to remember him by, at least for the next few days until the bruise heals.
Even more aroused, although that seems impossible at this point, I throw my ass back, meeting him thrust for thrust until we're fucking at a frenzied pace.
"I'm so close, Chef!"
That seems to make him lose control as he finds an angle that sucks him deeper into me, reaching parts of my body no one has ever touched before, even my vibrator. Each thrust is like a shock of pleasure to every nerve ending in my body, quickly building the pressure in my belly. His breathing grows ragged, droplets of perspiration dripping onto me. He must be close as well.
"Come for me," he growls.
He doesn't have to tell me twice.
"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuuuuuck!" I scream, shuddering as the most intense orgasm I've ever had rips through me. The aftershocks trigger his release, and he roars loudly as I clench around him.
"That's it, Cupcake. Milk me," he pants huskily.
I obey, tightening and releasing my pussy muscles over and over until every drop of his seed has been squeezed into the condom. After he catches his breath, he tosses it into the garbage can near the bed.
I'm left breathless, sprawled on the bed, as he gazes down at me with icy eyes and an enigmatic expression. "Good night, Cupcake," he murmurs, tugging up his joggers before vanishing from the room.
My lips purse, a wave of disappointment washing over me. I want more. Need more. He promised me an entire night of sex, so why the hell is he running away after one round?