Chapter Five: Silent Nights (Claimed by my Bodyguard)

1555 Words
“It’s so big,” I say, taking off my clothes. My breasts bounce free, and his c**k twitches. I hold his c**k and rub it against my face, peering up at him through my lashes. “And your fat p***y took it all the last time,” he says. “Like it was made for it.” “Fat?” I rub the tip of his c**k against my lips like I do with a lipstick. “Just the way my c**k likes it.” He grabs a handful of my hair. “Suck it.” And I do. I suck, hoping I can impress him. My head moves back and forth while he unbuttons his sleeves, taking his shirt off to bare his abs. It makes me even hornier. His c**k gets sloppy as I keep sucking. My saliva mixes with his pre-c*m and I spit it on his c**k, rubbing it along his length like lubricant before taking him again, halfway, choking on it. Minutes pass. Then he takes control, f*****g my mouth the way he would f**k my p***y—no mercy. He holds my head firmly, pushing me against his c**k until his balls were almost reaching my chin. He bends to spank my ass and finger my p***y at the same time. I can’t take his full length. It’s too big. I only manage to take more than half of his length a few seconds before the urge to throw up hits me. The tip of his c**k touching the back of my throat. I gag repeatedly, gripping his thigh hard, my eyes teary, saliva dripping in long, thick strands from my mouth to my breasts. He releases my head, and his c**k slips free as I gasp for air. I thought I was going to pass out. Still kneeling, rubbing my breasts with the saliva on them, I’m dragged gently back to him. He holds my head, guiding his c**k back into my mouth. “You’re so beautiful,” he says while he f***s my mouth so fast. I moan around him, taking as much as I can, choking. “Such a good girl.” I slap his c**k against my cheek, my mouth full, giving him a slutty look. Then I pull his c**k out of my mouth only to suck his balls hard, before sucking and sucking his fat c**k, hollowing my cheeks until they ache, wanting him to c*m. “f*****g hell,” he groans. He tries to pull out, but I suck him deeper, reassuring him with my eyes that I can take it—that I want to swallow his semen. He explodes in my mouth, groaning, my brown hair wrapped in his hand like a ponytail. I hold his thighs and swallow everything. It’s hot and erotic. I shake my breasts for him, and he rubs and massages them, grabbing and sucking my hard n*****s, leaving it with a pop sound. I squeeze them together, creating a passage for his c**k. He put his c**k in-between my breasts and keeps sliding between them until he spills on my face and breasts. He rubs it over them, pinching my n*****s as I bring his c**k back to my mouth, sucking him dry. He bends to kiss me, grabbing my neck, sucking on my tongue. I lick his lips, and he licks my cheek. “You love the taste of my c**k so much, don’t you?” “Uh huh,” I hum, sucking his balls again and placing his c**k on my face. He smiles, lifting me to my feet. We kiss until we were on his bed. Goosebumps rise over my skin because I know I’m about to be f****d good. “I could be your bodyguard, your protector, your s*x toy,” he says. “I could be anything you want.” His mouth trails down my cleavage, my belly, then to my p***y which he sucks immediately. I lick my lips, lifting my hips, holding his head as he sucks my p***y. He plays with it, rubbing my labia and my c**t between his fingers before sucking again. He bites and sucks my c**t gently, like baby does to a breast. I moan. His tongue hits my p***y—hot. He licks, the tip dipping in and out before sucking my c**t again, then my whole p***y at once. Lick, suck, spread with his fingers, repeat. He doesn’t stop. He eats me hungrily, like my p***y is his last meal. And just when I think he’s done, he pushes his fingers deep inside me. My legs tremble. When he pulls out, squirt spilled out of my p***y. He thrusts his fingers back in and f***s me with them, fast, so fast that the wet sounds my p***y does sound unreal, like fabric being washed. No exaggeration. I squirt again, nearly screaming, but he covers my mouth with a kiss, his fingers still working. “You’re a f*****g s*x god,” I say as his mouth moves to my breast. “Says the girl who sucked my c**k so good I thought I’d pass out,” he mutters, pulling my n****e into his mouth and my breast jiggles when he lets go of it. His lips brush my other breast, but he doesn’t suck. His expression shifts—horny to worried in seconds. “What’s wrong?” I ask as he sits on the bed. I crawl to him, resting my chin on his shoulder. “Damian, tell me what’s wrong.” I kiss his shoulder, rubbing his chest, sliding my hand down toward his c**k. He stops me, holding my hand and pulling me onto his thigh–but not over his c**k. It happens fast. “You’re so strong.” I touch his arm, his chest, hoping he’ll smile or at least look at me. He doesn’t. I lean in for a kiss. He doesn’t let me. “What are we doing, Mrs. Moore?” “Huh?” His question throws me off, especially hearing him remind me I’m married. As if I could forget. “What do you mean?” No response. “Damian.” I lift his chin so he meets my eyes. “What happens when your husband gets back? I know I said I could be anything you want, your boy toy. But I can’t stand the thought of this ending when he returns. The thought of him touching you. Does he kiss you the way I do? Has he f****d you like I did? Your p***y weeps for me. It should weep for only me.” He speaks with so much pain and pleasure. He wants me to be his. Only his. But I am a married woman. I can’t deny my husband of s*x forever. I can only try for some time. “Stop.” I cup his jaw. “He’s my husband.” I make him look at me again. “Listen to me. I can’t deny him s*x for long.” “Do you love him?” “I could never love an old cheat.” My answer is too quick. He stiffens, as if my answer had hurt him. “What is it?” He clenches his jaw and looks at me, “He’s cheating on you? Is that why this is happening? You cheating on him with me to get back at him?” “No. Stop.” “Or maybe–” “Don’t say it.” I already know. “Or maybe you’re just using me to satisfy your horny self until your old man gets back.” His words sting. Bitterness rises in my throat. And I slap him before I can think. Horrified at myself, I get off his thigh to leave. But he grabs my hand, pulling me back onto him, arms locked around my waist. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Forgive me. Please don’t go.” He kisses my arms again and again. Tears roll down my cheeks. What are we doing? Is this something real? Something worth exploring beyond stolen moments? “I don’t want to lose you. You should be with me, not him.” he says, wiping my tears. “He’s a f*****g asshole for cheating on you” He looks so offended and hurt, like he couldn't bear the thought that I was still with my husband even when I know he cheats. Holding his face, I whisper, “Don’t ever think you’re my boy toy.” He nods, relaxing as I run my fingers through his hair. It’s so adorable–a grown, dangerous man showing softness. “Damian, I’ve always been attracted to you. I really do like you, and I’ve wished for a moment like this, being with you.” “I’m sorry. That was some bullshit thing to say.” He kisses my hand, fingers locking with mine. “And stop calling me Mrs. Moore. I’m sure you’re older than me.” “Doesn’t matter. I’m your bodyguard and you’re my boss, ma’am.” He’s teasing, and I punch him, but he doesn’t budge. “You just wait until I claim you,” he whispers in my ear, his c**k now pressing against my ass. “You’ll beg for your p***y to be free.”
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