Last Hope

My pants are so tight I’m afraid I’m going to pass out from blood loss.

I lick my very dry lips, imagining what it would be like to take one of those fat nipples in my mouth and run my tongue around the dusky areola. My hands itch to cup the abundant breasts and see if they overflow my own big hands.

I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth, forgetting I’m coated in Amazon mud. As the slimy, gritty sand coats my lips and tongue, I’m roused from my lust-induced trance. I conjure up the image of the last woman I laid hands on. See her blood, hear her screams. Remember the horror and fear and disgust that everyone around me wore. Spitting the sand to the ground, I snatch up her shirt and shove it to her. “What the fuck are you doing? Put this on.”

“No, we’re having it out right here.” She jerks away and the motion makes her breasts jiggle.

If possible, Godzilla swells even larger. A menacing rumble echoes between us. Her eyes widen when she realizes it’s from me. I shake the shirt in front of her. My desire for her is overriding all the shame and self-loathing I can muster.

“Put this on.” I enunciate each word so she can’t mistake my meaning.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Rafe, you are acting like a maiden aunt who’s never had sex before,” she jokes.

I freeze, just for a second, but she sees it. She sees my hesitation and I know the minute that she connects all the dots because her eyes widen and her mouth forms this perfect fuckable circle. Not one that I could get my dick into.

“Holy shit,” she breathes. “How is that possible? Look at you? You’re gorgeous. I mean, surely you’ve had offers? Is it a religious reason? Are you a monk? Like a warrior monk?”

I lunge at her but with my jacked-up eye and a forgotten pool of mud that I was using to cover her at my feet, I misjudge the distance and slip. She grabs for me but she loses her balance, too. I clutch her to me and twist so that her fragile, unprotected, naked skin isn’t touched by the dirt or rocks or branches. When her legs fall around my waist and she places her hands on my chest to push upright, I nearly come.

I’m dry tinder in the middle of the desert at noon and she’s the spark. My whole frame is seized with lust and my judgment is choked to death by desire. That’s the only explanation I have for digging my mud-caked hand in her dark hair and pulling her roughly against me.

She yelps in surprise when her mouth meets mine, but her lips part and her tongue darts out to lick the seam of my lips. I open under her assault. And then I can’t remember who started what, only that her mouth is wet and hot and her tongue is aggressive.

I open my mouth wide as if by doing so I can suck every ounce of pleasure out of her. I trace each lip with my tongue and then delve inside to stroke the insides of her cheeks, the roof of her mouth. I drag my tongue across the surface of hers as if I could tattoo my taste buds with her flavor.

And she kisses me back.

I drive my tongue into her mouth again and again. She curls her little tongue around mine, licking me with each stroke. I grab her ass and move her until her * is riding my cock. I know it’s huge. I know I could cleave her in two by trying to shove inside her body, but God I want to.

More than anything I want to rip down her pants, spread her legs, and plunge inside what I presume will be the hottest, tightest, wettest snatch in mankind.

Get off her, I yell at myself, but my mind isn’t in control right now. All thoughts of the curse, of the pain I inflicted in the past, of the warnings of my mother, of the beatings that she inflicted to make me learn my lessons, are subsumed by the blood that pounds heavily in my veins.

My cock strains against the zipper and she writhes against me. I don’t let her go for a minute because I know if I do, she’ll jump away from me and look at me as if I’m a freak. Even though I’m dying to tongue her nipples, which have hardened into tight points that are drilling themselves into my chest. Even though I would like nothing more than for her to sit her bare cunt on my face so I can eat her out. Despite all this, I won’t stop. For some reason she’s in her own lust fugue state and I’m keeping her there.

She moans against my mouth, and the vibrations she sets off inside my body are indescribable. My toes actually curl and my legs tense up. I’ve jacked off enough to recognize the signs of an impending orgasm but fuck if I know much about women. I can’t tell by her moan how ready she is.

I’ve watched porn. I’ve seen chicks squirt all over the camera but I know that shit is fake. Faker than a hooker’s love. I don’t have enough fucking experience to know if she’s going to fucking come.

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