He Pins Her Down and Takes Full Control

Nia was still flat on her back on the penthouse rug, sweat pooled in her navel and hair stuck to her neck, when Reuben’s hands found the soaked panties he’d shoved aside instead of taking off. They were twisted at her hips. He ripped them down her thighs and off her ankles and threw them somewhere behind him.

He shoved her knees apart and dropped his mouth on her cunt before she could close her legs. His tongue went straight to her clit. It was still swollen from the first time and it hurt. Not a bad hurt. A raw one, like a bruise being pressed. She jerked. Her hips lifted off the rug. He pinned them down with both forearms and kept licking, fast and wet, the same rhythm that had already made her come once.

She could feel his come leaking out of her onto the rug. He lapped it up with her slick and didn’t slow down. His stubble scraped the inside of her thighs and the soft skin around her lips every time his jaw moved. Then one forearm stayed clamped across her hip and the other arm came off her. That hand slid down between her thighs and two fingers pushed into her. She was open and loose from him and they went in easy, but her walls were puffy and every drag of his knuckles registered. He curled them. Her stomach clenched. He sucked her clit into his mouth and held it there against his tongue, and she heard him swallow. Heard it. His breath came hot out of his nose against her mound.

He groaned into her. She felt it more than heard it, a low vibration straight through her clit that made her thighs snap shut against his ears. He didn’t stop. He groaned again, longer, and the hum of it ran up into her pelvis. Nia grabbed his hair. Gray at the temples, wet with sweat. She pulled. He sucked harder. Her heels dug into the rug and slipped. Her clit was so oversensitive that every pass of his tongue was too much and not enough at the same time. She was shaking before she knew she was shaking.

He pulled his mouth off her with a wet sound and crawled up her body. His cock was hard again, thick, the head shining with his own come and her slick from where it had run out of her. When his face reached hers she could smell herself on his mouth. He kissed her once. She tasted her cunt and his come on his tongue. He didn’t ask. He reached down, notched the head against her opening, and pushed.

The head caught on the swollen rim. He pushed again and it popped in. She was so puffy from coming that the stretch felt new, like the first time he’d ever done it. He slid in slow, pushing his own come back up into her ahead of him, and she felt every inch of the shaft drag past walls that were still tender. His pubic bone met hers. Then his weight came down. Chest on her tits, stomach on her stomach, hips on her hips. Her lungs compressed. The breath she’d been holding went out of her in a thin sound and she couldn’t pull a full one back in.

He started moving in short, deep strokes that didn’t pull out far. He didn’t need to. He was already all the way in. His hips held hers flat to the rug and she couldn’t move them an inch in any direction. She wasn’t sliding. She was pinned. Her breathing broke into shallow gasps timed to his thrusts because that was the only rhythm her chest was allowed. Every stroke pushed the air out. Every withdrawal let a little back in.

Sweat made their skin stick. She heard it, his chest peeling off her tits and slapping back down, wet and tacky. The rug pile ground against her shoulder blades. Her hands didn’t know where to go. She grabbed his back and her fingers slid on sweat. She grabbed the rug and it burned her palms. She ended up with her arms flung out and her nails dug into the pile. He was heavier than her. Older. Stronger. She couldn’t move him and he knew it.

He put his mouth against her ear and kept it there.

“Still so fucking tight,” he whispered. Low, rough, right against the shell of her ear. “I just came in this cunt and it’s already sucking me back in. You feel that? That’s me stretching you open again.”

Nia turned her face into his neck. He didn’t let her. One hand fisted in her hair and held her head still so his mouth stayed locked to her ear while his cock kept driving in. Sweat dripped off his forehead onto her cheek. His balls pressed wet and heavy against the seam of her, below her cunt, and ground there every time he bottomed out, a slow smear of heat against her perineum that never lifted away.

“You’re going to take another load,” he whispered. “I’m not done. This pussy doesn’t get a break. Feel how hard I still am inside you.”

She felt it. She felt everything. He fucked her like that until her legs started to shake again and her cunt started fluttering around him. Then he pulled out.

The emptiness was sudden and wrong. Her cunt clenched on nothing. His come and her slick ran straight out of her, down between her cheeks onto the rug. He got up on his knees, grabbed her under the arms and hauled her up with him as he stood. Her legs didn’t work. They hung. He got her upright against his chest, and for a second he held her there by the armpits like she weighed nothing. Then he shifted his grip, one arm dropping to lock under her ass, the other hand flat between her shoulder blades, and her feet cleared the rug. She felt the mess running down the inside of both thighs as he turned and dropped into the leather armchair by the window with her held against him. He kept her lifted. Her knees dangled on either side of his hips, not touching the seat yet. Her cunt hung open over him.

“Put it in,” he whispered against her ear. “Line me up. Now.”

Her hand shook. She got it between them anyway, wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock and dragged the head up under her until it nudged her swollen opening. It was slick with them both. She held it there.

He let go.

For one second she was falling. Then she landed on his cock and it drove up into her, almost all of it, in one drop. It punched a sound out of her. Her knees hit the leather, cool and slick against her skin, and her ass came down on the tops of his thighs with the last bit of him still outside her. She was full before her brain caught up.

He grabbed her ass with both hands and started lifting her and slamming her back down. Fast. Hard. The chair legs skidded on the floor. Her tits slapped his chest. Her hands were on his shoulders and kept losing grip, sliding on sweat, so she hooked her fingers behind his neck to stay on. She had no say in the pace. She felt like a sleeve he was using. He hauled her up and dropped her and hauled her up again.

His mouth found her ear and stayed.

“Ride it,” he whispered. “That’s it. Take it deeper. Your cunt is making a mess all over my balls. Hear that? That’s how wet you are for an old man’s cock.”

She could hear it. Wet slaps every time she landed on his thighs.

“You’re gripping me,” he whispered. “Every time I drop you, you clamp down. You don’t want to come off it.”

She didn’t. Each drop drove him into the front wall of her cunt and set off a deep ache behind her navel that got worse every time. Her jaw went slack. Her hearing dropped out for a second and came back with his voice still in her ear.

“I can feel it coming,” he whispered. “Your breathing changed. You’re close. You’re going to come on this cock whether you want to or not.”

Her breath was hitching in short bursts. She couldn’t stop it. She put her mouth on his neck and made a sound there that wasn’t a word. He sped up. Her thighs burned. Sweat ran down between her tits and over her stomach and pooled where their bodies met, slicking the place his cock split her. He was slamming her down so hard her clit mashed against his pubic bone on every stroke. She bit his shoulder. He groaned into her ear.

“I’m going to fuck the come right out of you,” he whispered. “Right now. Hold on.”

He yanked her down and thrust up at the same time, his hips lifting off the leather. The last inch went in. He went further than any stroke before. Her ass flattened against his thighs. There was no gap left between them. The head of his cock jammed against her cervix and stayed there. He locked his arms around her waist and held her impaled. She couldn’t lift off. She couldn’t move.

“Fuck,” he whispered against her ear, gutted, barely sound. “Fuck. Right there. Stay.”

For one beat nothing happened. Just pressure. His cock crushed against the end of her and her whole pelvis was one solid ache. Then her body seized. Her cunt clamped down on him in hard pulses she couldn’t control. She came with her mouth open on his shoulder and no sound coming out at first, then a broken moan lost against his neck. Her legs kicked once and went rigid. Her nails dug into his back. She twitched around his cock, over and over, stuck on that one deep point, coming so hard her stomach muscles locked and her teeth closed on his skin.

He came while she was still clamped on him. She felt the heat of it pumping in thick pulses against her cervix. He said one word into her ear, “Nia,” and then it broke into a sound. His arms crushed her ribs. He didn’t pull out. He kept her sitting on it.

They stayed like that in the armchair. His cock was still buried to the base and still twitching. Her cunt was still fluttering around it in aftershocks she couldn’t stop. The sweat was cooling on her back. Her forehead was on his shoulder and she couldn’t lift it. She could only feel him inside her, hard, full, her own thighs shaking against his.

His hands slid down and gripped her ass again. He shifted his hips once, a small grind up into her that made her whole body jerk. His mouth came back to her ear.

“Don’t get up,” he whispered. “You’re staying on it until I’m ready to go again.”