Ninong, Please: Touch Me Like It's a Sin

I shouldn’t be here. I knew that the moment I stepped out of the cab and walked into that hotel lobby. But I didn’t stop. I went straight to the elevator like my heart wasn’t racing, like my knees weren’t weak. Room 609. That’s where he told me to go. My phone buzzed just as I stepped in. Ninong: "Door's unlocked. Come in, baby." Tangina. He called me baby. My stomach flipped. My skin heated up. I bit my lip and pressed the button. This was wrong. Every part of this was wrong. But I couldn't help it. I wanted to see him. I wanted to feel him. Again. When I opened the door, he was already standing by the window, shirtless, with a glass of whiskey in one hand. “Ninong,” I breathed. He turned around slowly, eyes dragging up and down my body like he owned it. “You wore the dress,” he said, his voice low and thick. I looked down. Thin straps. Short hem. No bra. “You told me to,” I said, closing the door behind me. He smirked. “And you always listen like a good girl, don’t you?” I nodded. But I was already shaking inside. His voice, his stare, the quiet tension in the air lahat yun nakakalasing. “Come here,” he said. I walked to him, step by slow step, until I was standing right in front of him. He set the glass down. His hand came up to touch my chin, gently lifting it. “You don’t know how hard it is to stop thinking about you,” he whispered. “Every fücking night, I picture you like this. Begging for me.” “Ninong…” I whispered, almost moaning his name. He leaned down and kissed me. And just like that, everything else disappeared. His lips were soft at first, teasing. But then he deepened the kiss, tongue pushing into mine, his hand already sliding down my waist to my ass. I gasped when he grabbed it tight and pulled me against his bare chest. I could feel his diçk already hard through his sweats. “You missed this, didn’t you?” he asked. I nodded fast. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” “Me too,” he growled, and then he kissed me again—harder this time, hungrier. He backed me up toward the bed, kissing and grabbing every inch of me. By the time the back of my knees hit the mattress, he was already pulling my dress up. “No panties?” he grinned. “You told me not to wear any,” I whispered. “Fuçk. You’re such a dirty little girl for your Ninong.” His fingers slid between my thighs. I was already wet. “So wet for me already,” he said, eyes dark. “Did you touch yourself before coming here?” I looked away. “Maybe…” He grabbed my chin again, making me face him. “Tell me.” “I did. Twice.” “Fuçk, baby.” He groaned and kissed me hard. “You’re gonna make me lose control.” Then he pushed me down on the bed, knelt between my legs, and spread them wide. He didn’t waste time. He buried his face between my thighs and licked me like he was starving. “s**t!” I cried out, grabbing his hair. “Fùck, that feels so good…” His tongue moved slow at first, teasing my c**t, then dipping into my hole. I couldn’t breathe. My body was shaking. “You taste so f*****g sweet,” he moaned. “You love this, huh?” I nodded, hips grinding against his face. “Yes, yes—don’t stop, please…” He sucked my c**t hard and slid two fingers inside me. I almost screamed. “You’re already so tight,” he said. “Fuçk, I need to be inside you.” He stood up, pulled off his sweats, and his diçk sprang free thick, hard, veiny. My mouth watered. “Open your mouth,” he said. I obeyed. He slid the tip in slowly, watching me the whole time. I licked it, sucked it, let my spit drip down. “Good girl,” he groaned. “Fuçking perfect.” Then he pulled back and laid me down again. “You ready, baby?” “Yes, Ninong. Please fuçk me.” He grabbed my legs, lifted them over his shoulders, and slid inside me in one deep thrust. “Fuçk!” we both moaned at the same time. He didn’t stop. He thrust hard, deep, steady. The bed creaked under us, headboard banging against the wall. “Shìt, you feel so good,” he growled. “So tight, so warm.” I wrapped my arms around him, moaning into his ear. “Harder, please fuçk me harder!” He slammed into me, over and over. Sweat dripped from his body onto mine. I was gasping, moaning, biting my lip to keep from screaming. “Say it,” he growled. “Say who owns this pussy.” “You do, Ninong! Fuçk, it’s yours—only yours!” He kissed me again, rough and messy. “You love this coçk, huh?” “Yes! I love it, love how it fills me up, how you f**k me like you own me…” I came hard, shaking, legs trembling, toes curling. He wasn’t far behind. “Where do you want it, baby?” “Inside,” I begged. “Please… fill me up.” With a loud groan, he slammed deep and spilled inside me, thrusting through it, milking every drop. We collapsed together, panting, sweating, bodies tangled. After a long silence, he kissed my forehead. “You okay?” I nodded, still catching my breath. “That was insane.” He smirked. “Next time, we’re doing it in front of a mirror. I want to see your face when I f**k you.” I giggled. “You’re crazy.” “No. I’m addicted.” He kissed me again. “To you.” And I knew right then, this wasn’t going to end anytime soon.