Creamed - Page 35

Not a girl anymore, not a virgin. A woman.

My woman.

Pulling my shirt she has on wide open, spraying what few buttons there are holding it on her across the floor, I slide it off her.

I make a mental note to buy more shirts.

Hell. A whole shirt factory. Seeing her in my clothes is the biggest turn-on.

She curses under her breath suddenly, swearing and grunting as her hips gyrate. Then, grinding down onto me as I start to pump in and out of her.

Spotting the vanity unit, I figure it’s easiest to rest her there.

Save her leg and ankle any more work, and it’ll let me fuck her while I watch her back and ass in the large mirror.

All the mirrors in the bathroom are working in my favor right now. And if I’m not looking my woman right in the eyes, I can see her from almost every angle.

Both of us moan louder once she’s perched at a perfect height, and with her resting on the vanity, I can start to work my way in and out of her.

Slow at first, and then harder and faster.

Something else we both discover quickly is Mandy’s new favorite thing.

“Foxx,” Mandy wheezes, looking up at me. Her eyes are dark with her arousal, her mouth making a perfect ‘O’ shape as I hit her biggest pleasure center for the first time.

Her whole body jerks, and she swears, “Fuck… I never thought… anything… could feel… this… good,” she stammers.

Her voice breaks with each fresh thrust of my hips. The sound of my body pounding against hers echoes off the walls, making me growl even louder.

My seed rises in me as my balls clench, and I grit my teeth some more, but it’s clear she’s ready to come for me again.

“Foxx…,” she whimpers, cautioning me she’s ready to come again.

“Cream all over me, Mandy,” I tell her, focusing on her face as I feel her shudder.

Her sweet pussy is quivering in an instant climax, making her squeal. And even if I could hold it another second, I wouldn’t.

This is me, planting my seed in my woman. And the whole room feels like it’s shaking once I do.

My powerful orgasm, stronger and harder than anything I’ve ever felt, makes her call out my name again. Begging me not to stop as she has wave after wave of herself creaming all over my cock.

“My cream and sugar,” I rumble. “Mine.” And I hold myself deep inside her, struggling to keep a hold of her as she slides on the marble vanity that I can feel is hot to the touch.

Her full body orgasm, along with mine, makes my own solid legs feel a tremor in them.

Still mindful of her ankle, I shift myself on my feet to make sure she’s supported and stroke her hair back from her face.

Her sandy blond hair is dark with her sweat, and the steam from the tub suddenly moves between us as if we really are in the clouds.

“Foxx, the bath!” she exclaims, cut a little short by another fresh wave of satisfying sounds.

“It’s got an overflow outlet…,” I say, kissing her full on the lips, pressing my mouth hard on hers, and squeezing all of her closer to me.

Her stiff chest melts against mine like a spent storm throwing the last of its fury against the shore.

“We… I… we did it,” she gasps, and I feel my body shake with a silent chuckle.

“We sure did. I mean, we are,” I tell her, watching her giggle until she jerks and shudders, the little aftershocks still running through her.

“You’re not my little virgin girl anymore. You’re my woman. All woman now,” I tell her proudly, holding her head and neck, kissing her forehead before we hold both ours together for what seems like forever.

“Thank you, Foxx,” she finally murmurs, feeling limp in my arms. Fulfilled. Spent.

“Thank me for what?” I whisper, shifting my head back to see her baby blues flash with so many emotions.

“Just… thank you,” she says softly, and I hug her as I lift her.

I note her little pout when I feel myself sliding out of her.

I already miss being inside her. But damn. If I’d been hard like that for much longer, I don’t know what I would’ve done.

Claiming Mandy has quelled my need to have her, deflower her and fill her with my seed. But it’s only made me want more of the same from her.

And she can have it on tap anytime she wants it, day or night.

Hooking my arm under her legs, I ask how her ankle feels, making her flush a deeper red through the mist of steam.

“Honestly? I can’t feel my legs right now, but I think I’m good,” she says in surprise.

She trails her fingers through the waiting bathwater, and I ask if it’s too hot or too cold, knowing I set the thermostat for Goldilocks mode.

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