That night, when Victor got home, I met him at the door in lingerie, and I was blowing him before he even shut the door.
“That’s fucking great, Anna,” he grunted when I had his little chubby in my mouth.
Victor had a nice cock, nothing special, five inches, reasonably thick, and eager. I just didn’t see it enough. I sucked his dick while he pulled off his clothes. He grabbed the back of my head and pounded my mouth. I swallowed him whole, but I wanted more. I pulled away.
“Fuck me, Vic,” I moaned.
Vic was close to Rick, and they were both close to dick, which was what I desperately needed.
I pulled away and got in front of him on all fours. I wiggled my ass up at him.
“Right here?” he asks.
The front door was closed, but it was glass. Unfortunately, the house was off the street, and the glass was treated to be one way. No one could see us. And I wished so badly that someone could see us. What I wanted right now was to be bad. I’d love it if Victor fucked me in the street so the whole neighborhood could see.
“Fuck me, Vic,” I insisted, wiggling my butt and fingering my pussy.
He fell to his knees and gave me what I wanted, sliding his dick in my wet canal. He thrust to the hilt. It felt good.
“Harder,” I demanded.
He pulled out and thrust back. He was holding my hips, but his hands weren’t grabbing me the way I wanted. I wanted him to fucking take me!
“Harder,” I grunted. “Fuck me, Rick.”
Whoops. Did I say, Rick?
Vic didn’t notice. He was thrusting now. Finding a rhythm. I wanted more. Needed more. I want him to spank my ass. I wanted him to treat me like a whore. I wanted him to use me. I grabbed my ass and started fingering that other tight hole.
It had been ten years since Vic took that back door. All I had for it was one of my silicone boyfriends.
“Fuck, Anna,” he grunted.
My fingering my own hole was too much stimulation for Vic. He shuddered, thrust, and came.
Eight thrusts—I counted—and he was done.
I needed more.