Beguile

17 To prove like a whore

Kurt groaned, the sound deep and almost pained.

"Faster," he urged, his voice rough and desperate. I tentatively increased my pace, my fingers gliding up and down the length of his member.

His breathing grew heavier, each exhale a ragged sound that seemed to fill the room. I watched his face contort with pleasure, his eyes half-closed, lips parted. Despite my inexperience, I could feel his response to my touch, his body tensing and trembling.

As I continued to stroke him faster, his groans became louder, more insistent. The room felt charged with a strange energy, the air thick with anticipation. I could feel his member pulsing in my hand, the veins standing out against the taut skin.

Suddenly, his body stiffened, and with a final, guttural groan, he climaxed

Hot liquid spurt from him in rhythmic pulses, coating my hand and dripping onto the floor. Then his body relaxed, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

When the tension in the room subsided, I watched Kurt reach down, his fingers gliding through the sticky liquid cooling on his thigh. He scooped it up with a deliberate motion, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Open," he commanded softly. I immediately parted my lips as he glide it down my tongue.

The taste was bitter, a sharp tang that contrasted starkly with the smooth texture. I swallowed, the unfamiliar flavor lingering on my palate, making me shiver slightly.

"You haven't done as you were told yet," he said, a hint of impatience in his voice. "Come on. Prove it like a whore."

Surprised, I hesitated before lowering my head, my lips brushing the tip of his member. I moved cautiously, my breath warm against his skin, unsure of what to do next.

"Tongue," he instructed.

I looked up at him, uncertainty clear in my eyes, but slowly extended my tongue. Kurt took a hold of his member, guiding it to rest on my tongue. "Just like that," he murmured, his voice softer now.

I began to move, my lips stretching to accommodate him, each motion sending a sharp pain through the corners of my mouth. His member was thick and firm, the veins protruding and adding a textured sensation against my tongue and the roof of my mouth.

As I struggled to maintain a steady rhythm, the taste and feel of him became overwhelming. His impatience grew evident.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. His grip tightened in my hair, and with a sudden, forceful motion, he pushed me down, forcing his entire length into my mouth. I felt a sharp tear at the sides of my lips, pain mixing with the sensation of fullness that made my eyes water.

Kurt began to guide my head more aggressively, his groans growing louder with each thrust. His thighs trembled against my cheeks. And he pushed me faster and faster, the movements becoming a blur of motion and sensation.

His climax approached swiftly, his body tensing even more. With a final, guttural groan, he released deep in my throat, the hot liquid shooting down in powerful spurts. He held me there, forcing me to swallow every drop. I gagged slightly, the bitter taste filling my senses, but I obediently swallowed.

It was strange, but oddly I felt it shoot straight down to my core.

Finally, he released his grip on my hair, his breathing heavy and labored. I pulled back slowly, my mouth sore and my lips swollen.

He smirked, licking the top of his lips as he looked down at me with a predatory satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

I met his gaze, and for a moment, I saw my reflection in their dark depths. My hair was a tangled mess, wild strands clinging to my damp forehead. Blood smeared my swollen lips, mingling with the white remnants of his release that were smeared across my chin and cheeks.