I Love To Ride A Good Firm And Veiny Cock
The sun hung high in a cloudless sky as Samira stepped off the bus, her skin shimmering with a light sheen of sweat. The heat was oppressive in this part of the Middle East, but it didn’t deter the voluptuous 18-year-old from her quest. She had heard rumor of an American soldier stationed nearby, a man known for his impressive endowment and bedroom prowess. And she, an adventurous young woman, was determined to see if the tales were true.
Confidently, she sashayed towards the barracks, hips swaying sensually. The guards eyed her hungrily as she passed, but she paid them no mind, her focus singular. Inside, the building was quiet, most men out on patrol. But she found who she sought easily enough – the name Tate disconnectedly stenciled onto a door.
She knocked, once, twice, three times before the door swung open. Tate stood there, shirtless and sweaty from his own exertions in the gym. His eyes raked over her hungrily, taking in the way her traditional robes clung to her curves. “Can I help you, miss?” he asked, voice low and gravelly.
Samira smiled, infusing it with a coy, sensual allure. “I’ve heard many, many good things about you, infiltrator,” she purred. “Things I am anxious to experience firsthand.” Tate stared, clearly taken aback by her boldness. But Samira saw the way his flesh began to stir under the stretchy fabric of his fatigues.
Slowly, she reached out, dragging a manicured finger down his broad chest. Tate’s breath hitched at her touch, thighs clenching and cock rapidly swelling to full size. “I want to taste you,” she whispered hotly, already falling to her knees. Samira reached for his zipper with nimble fingers.
Tate grabbed her wrists just as quickly, yanking her back up to standing. Their eyes clashed, his molten with suppressed need, hers defiant. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, girl,” he growled.
“I know exactly what I want,” she returned, leaning close until her lips brushed his as she spoke. Tate’s pupils blew wide. In one swift motion, he flipped her around and pinned her against the wall, rutting his straining erection into the cleft of her ass. Samira gasped, the contact electric. She could feel his size, his throbbing girth.
“Yes,” she hissed. “Give me what I need.”
Like a wild animal, Tate tore at her robes, shredding the delicate fabric to get at her skin. He cupped her heavy breasts roughly, thumbing her nipples to aching peaks. Samira ground back against him, desperate, wanton. She needed him inside her, stretching her, filling her.
He stripped her bare and threw her on his narrow bed, drinking in the sight of her bared curves with lascivious eyes. Samira spread herself wide, hand gliding down to stroke her slick folds. Tate watched, transfixed, before shucking off his pants in a flash. His cock bobbed free, angry red and pulsing, the veins running along it testament to his arousal.
He lunged at her like a man starved, burying his face between her thighs and lapping at her passage with long, slow strokes of his thick tongue. Samira’s head fell back on a scream, thighs clamping around his head. He tongued her to a writhing helicopter of pleasure, before finally mounting her, lining himself up.
With one brutal thrust, he sheathed himself to the hilt. Samira came with a shriek, nails raking down Tate’s back as he stretched her impossibly wide. He set a brutal pace, pummeling her, hips smacking against hers wetly. In mere moments, he was biting his lip, jaw clenching. “Gonna come,” he grunted between clenched teeth, hips doubling their ferocity.
“Yes, fill me,” Samira pleaded, ready to milk him. As if the gods themselves had heard her prayer, Tate let out a harsh bellow, slamming into her one final time before coming hard, cock pulsating as it pumped load after load of thick, hot seed into her welcoming womb.
Samira screamed as his essence poured into her, writhing like a woman possessed. As he collapsed onto her, utterly spent, she nipped her teeth to his earlobe and whispered, “Again.”
And again. Tate fucked her for hours, his stamina prodigious as her body racked with orgasms. They came together in the manner of animals, wild and untamed, flesh slapping on flesh, clenching and quivering and spasming, until they collapsed in a tangle of sweat-slick limbs.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in vivid swirls of orange and red, Tate rolled on top of her once more, cock still semi-hard. “Again?” he asked, the words
husked and gritty. Samira just smiled
secretly, and drew him into a searing kiss, sending them spiraling towards oblivion. And the sun set, andطيبة أمور with it. Yet Samira and Tate lay entwined, replete, unaware and uncaring, lost in the depths of their passion’s all-consuming flames.
