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Herding Cats 5
🕑 Added 2022-01-23 21:00:02 +0000 UTCHe planted his knees between Caroline’s splayed legs and came upright, now kneeling over her. His fingers dug into her thighs and opened them wide. The loincloth of her dress still covered her pelvis, but absurdly, with her bare legs vee’d to either side of it.
With a smile on his face, Brad took the loincloth in hand and flipped it up onto Caroline’s upper body. Caroline moaned, her eyes rolling with lust. With her panties off, she was exposed, and that felt like a sex act in its own right.
Brad looked down at her sizzling pussy, admiring the way her labia gleamed with wetness: “But I’ll tell you right now, I like your pussy. I’m going to like fucking it. Having it belong to me. From now on, whenever I see you walking around, whether you’re in a sheath dress or a set of pajamas, I’ll know that this sweet cunt’s underneath. And I know how it feels, Caroline Channing—wrapped around my cock, reducing you to nothing more than ecstasy.”
He ran his hand over her pussy, tweaking her clit, and Caroline’s hips writhed upward. She couldn’t wait to feel Brad ramming himself deep inside her, how hot she’d burn between his superheated cock and her superheated cunt. She moaned, looking down at the sizzling drops of precum bubbling from the tip of his dick.
Then, whorishly, Caroline pushed her hands into her cleavage and squeezed her nipples. Flashes of pained pleasure thrilled through her body, joining the lust boiling in her cunt. Looking down at his ferocious erection, she knew Brad was big enough to satisfy her, but she wondered if his obsession with her was enough to ensure he’d last until bringing her the explosive climax that she needed to be satisfied.
The neurosis of that worry at a time like this was soothing to Caroline, like a calm in the middle of her raging lusts. But it couldn’t last. Calm was something she was not meant to be while Brad was fucking her.
He thrust himself into her, his iron-hard prick going deep in her molten sex. Caroline’s doubts were extinguished. Feeling him inside her to the hilt, she howled like a banshee. It was almost too much, his burning cockhead so thick inside her; she didn’t know if she’d be able to last long enough for Brad to satisfy all his desire for her.
He held himself inside her as they both panted, trying to recover their breath, and Brad stared lovingly into Caroline’s eyes. She felt herself being swept along by his passion for her. It was almost enough to make her forget she was in the middle of being fucked. Not that she ever could forget the massive erection he’d fed into her. But she was in the middle of a cacophony of feelings, not used to how he was bombarding her with both sex and that… that look he was giving her.
Fresh tears swam to her eyes, but she smiled through them, showing Brad she wasn’t at all displeased. He wiped her eyes while rolling his hips, shifting his cock inside her, swamping her with fresh feeling that made Caroline gasp and tremble.
“It isn’t that you lost the money,” he purred.
“W-what?”
“You never cared about the money.” Brad kissed her, gently, spicily, toying with her face. It felt so hot that he could’ve been lighting a match on her flushed cheeks, her burning lips. “You liked it, but it wasn’t really important to you. What hurt was losing your father. You miss having someone around to be good for, to praise you, to tell you you’re a good girl.”
And for some reason, Caroline found herself nodding frantically, tears mobbing her eyes and pleasure filling her body, even as a tiny Max somewhere in her head couldn’t believe that she was so enthralled by a Wall Street Svengali (not that Max knew what a Svengali was—or what Wall Street was).
But if her own neurosis was a balm in the middle of all this intimacy and sexuality, so was Max’s borrowed cynicism. It gave her some measure of control. It kept her from admitting how good it felt to be out of control.
“You’re a good girl,” Brad said, actually licking her face from her jawline up to her eyelashes, taking off some of the tears that had trailed down her cheek. “You’re such a good girl. I’m going to reward you for being good. I’m going to make you feel like you deserve.”
Then he was fucking her, a burst of motion, barely coming out of her before he was pile-driving back in. As if that sudden jolt wasn’t enough of a shock, he rammed her faster and faster, his muscular hips bucking and rocking, his ass clenched as he plunged himself into her wet pussy. He was going at her cunt like a jackhammer and Caroline felt a little as if her battered body was about to split down the middle.
But this frantic fuck was just what she wanted, what she needed. She wrapped her long legs around his mercilessly rutting body, digging her heels into his back to spur him deeper inside her, trying to hold her womanhood at the proper angle to get as much of his pistoning cock as possible. And Brad rewarded her for having the audacity to go after what she needed.
“You’re a good girl, Caroline, a good girl,” he cooed as he pumped her, taking her so hard and fast. “Such a good girl to fuck.”
His soothing voice not at all like the viciousness with which he pummeled her body. Like he was punishing her for what a slut she was being, enjoying this so much—yet he was calling her a good girl… praising her for, yes, being so passionate, so responsive.
Brad wanted to please her, she realized. She was giving him what he wanted by enjoying herself. It made her feel so free and innocent to know that—shutting up all her neuroses and her dumb inner Max. She didn’t care if he was playing mind games; his mind games were about to make her—
“AIIEEE! I’M COMING! OHHH, IT FEELS SO DAMN GOOD! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! BRAAAD!”
“Say you’re a good girl!” Brad shouted in her ear. “Say it!”
With her orgasm at its peak, Caroline couldn’t resist him. Trying not to do what he said in the midst of all this pleasure was like a log trying not to burn in a fire. “I’m a good girl!”
“Good girls deserve to get fucked,” Brad told Caroline. All of her thin, supple body under his thrusts felt like a violin bow, stretched to the point of breaking by what he was making her feel. “Good girls deserve my cum.”
Seeing the look of joy in Caroline’s eyes—the hunger for his seed—Brad groaned and shot the first rope of his sizzling cum deep inside of Caroline. She felt his cock swell with the eruption, throb with each burst of blazing semen she was being fed… he pumped and pumped and pumped into her until his sticky ejaculate spilled out from Caroline, drenching the cape of her costume.
“I’m a good girl, I’m a good girl…” Caroline wished she wasn’t wearing such tight boots. With the blissful waves of her climax foaming over her, she wanted to stretch out her toes, fully luxuriate in the feel of Brad’s nude body covering hers, touching her bare skin, reaping all the luscious flesh she could present to him.
She wanted to be naked with him, rip away everything between them and keep him inside her, but she could hardly move, only gently swirl her hips back and forth around her impalement. Brad’s comforting weight sank on her as he unloaded the last drops of his hot jizz into her needy snatch. Caroline went cross-eyed, contenting herself with the feel of his issue inside her, sluicing out of her well-used pussy while she clung both to Brad’s body and the sex that had seared itself into her mind.
Brad’s rolling hips subsided down to a tender rocking motion, his pumping moving Caroline’s body for her, slowly and easily, wafting cool air against her overheated sex. As she lay there enjoying every joyous second of her fleeting consciousness, Caroline felt absurdly that Brad had fucked her so well she’d never need to have sex again.
“Good girls get bred,” she thought she heard him say before dozing off, and she happily noted that in her darkening mind.
Good girls get fucked, good girls get cum, good girls get bred…
***
“Where the fuck is she?” Max growled under her breath, making a circuit of the party once again. Not that it was a party anymore. Most of the guests had split off, some going to a new burger joint, others going to buy weed from a new dealer who was supposed to be particularly cheap, many others going to watch Chronicles of Riddick at some guy’s home theater. That last one had actually tempted Max, but she was just feminist enough not to abandon Caroline with a bunch of strangers at a party. Not that she could say the same for Caroline.
The only people left at this point, close to midnight, were those that had passed out, drunken themselves into a stupor, or maybe succumbed to some wasting disease. Max thought she might be the only one actually conscious in the whole place. She was tempted to rip something off. That would probably get her in trouble with Caroline. Though she was caring less and less what Caroline thought, since the B had faded on her, leaving her to hawk cupcakes to a parade of customers who clearly just wanted to leer at her. Yeah, maybe the Black Cat costume was a bad choice. She should’ve dressed as something less sexy, like a nun. Scratch that, like a Muslim.
Bored as much as she was aggravated, Max decided she might as well take advantage of the party being dead and use the bathroom without a line. The place had two: one had been designated the girls’ room and the other the boys’ room. Max used the girls’ room, even though she worried that just meant some guy didn’t want to fast-forward through his webcam feed.
She relieved herself—not easy in a catsuit—adjusted her costume back to sterling perfection, then emerged back into the world, hands soaped and scrubbed, to see Brad helping himself to some punch.
At lightspeed, Max gave herself a once-over: propping up her breasts, straightening her hair, cocking her hips. She usually wasn’t that sentimental about guys she’d blown; the reason she wasn’t wearing a mask was because he’d covered it with cum, after all. And, anyway, she was pissed at him! He’d stolen Caroline, her Caroline.
Max made herself forget how she’d readied herself for Brad in order to stomp over to him, brimming with righteous indignation. “Hey, dickless, where’ve you been? And where’d you take Caroline?”
“Caroline? We went to talk shop. I thought she mentioned it to you; weren’t you listening?”
You had your dick in my mouth, not my ear, Max thought, but didn’t say—bringing up that she’d given him a suckjob wasn’t really much of a ‘gotcha’. “Yeah, I know she went off with you, guy, where is she now? It doesn’t take an hour to talk shop.”
Brad smiled at her as he sipped his drink. “Are you sure? Maybe you’re just not much of a businesswoman.”
Max’s eyebrows quirked. What was that weird emphasis he put on the word ‘businesswoman’? Was he calling her a whore? Max had some experience with being called a whore—usually by other women, though. Maybe that she was why she didn’t get the impression he was being negative, exactly, but…
Brad picked up another Solo cup and filled it from the punch bowl. Seeing it, Max remembered what she’d done with all the cum he’d volleyed into her mouth. Was he implying he’d taken an hour to fuck Caroline, after how Max had emptied him out?
Comments
Shendude
This is hot. That is all.
