Oregon~Another story by Killer

[ScreamqueenNkiller]

The following is a work of fiction inspired by real events, the characters and setting have been changed to create a better story for a wide audience.

The rain slick streets of a quiet Oregon town carried the scent of cedar and salt the night they first locked eyes. He was a carpenter pushing forty, broad shouldered and sun bronzed, with calloused hands that could coax beauty from raw timber and a quiet intensity that made strangers step aside. She was a newly divorced thirty something with wheat blonde hair that caught the dim bar light like spun gold, her body a soft hourglass of generous curves and toned muscle earned from regular gym sessions and stubborn pride.
For weeks they’d only known each other through late night phone calls (his low, gravel rough voice ***ting filthy pictures while her breathless laughter turned to moans). Every conversation ended the same…whispered promises of what he’d do when he finally had her alone, her shy at first, then greedy, describing exactly how she’d beg. The distance between their houses shrank with every word until neither could wait any longer.
Tonight, the hallway of her rented bungalow is dark except for the faint glow from the streetlamp outside. He slips in behind her the moment the door clicks shut…the following is a description of the events that followed in his own words.


“I slip up behind you in the dim hallway, my breath warm against your ear as my hand clamps firmly around your throat…not tight, just enough to feel your pulse jump. “Shhhhh,” I whisper, lips brushing your skin. My other hand dives lower, grabbing a thick handful of your ass, squeezing hard. “This is mine tonight. All of it.”
I guide you to the bedroom like that, one hand collaring your neck, the other wrenching your wrists behind your back, pinning them in an iron grip. You stumble a little; I steady you with a low growl. At the bed, I release your throat just long enough to shove you down. “On your back. Eyes closed.”
You obey, chest already heaving. I start with your jeans…***ling them down slow, deliberate, my face hovering inches from your heat. The scent hits me first: musky, wet, fucking intoxicating. I drag the denim off your ankles, but your panties stay. For now.
I hook a finger under the lace and yank it aside. My mouth finds you…soft kisses at first, teasing the edges, feeling you twitch. Then harder, open-mouthed, tongue dragging up your slit. I spread you with my thumbs and dive in, lapping slow circles around your clit until you’re dripping down my chin.
“You’re not coming until you beg,” I mutter against you, voice muffled. I seal my lips around your swollen bud and suck, gentle pulses, then flicking fast with the tip of my tongue. Your hips buck, I pin them down with one forearm across your stomach. The room fills with wet sounds and your ragged breathing.
“Please… can I…fuck…can I cum?” you gasp, thighs trembling.
“Not yet.” I keep the rhythm merciless, suction tightening, tongue relentless. Your whimpers turn desperate, high, broken little noises that make my cock throb against my zipper.
“Now,” I finally growl. “Cum on my tongue. Give it all to me.”
You shatter,back arching off the bed, pussy clenching in waves as you flood my mouth. I drink you down, licking through the aftershocks until you’re limp and gasping.
I crawl up your body, kissing a trail…nipples, collarbone, throat until my mouth crashes into yours. You taste yourself on me, moaning into the kiss as I grip the back of your neck and devour you.
“Ready?” I rasp against your lips.
You nod, frantic.
I line up and push in, slow, thick inches stretching you open. You’re so wet I slide deep on the first thrust, but I hold back, letting you feel every ridge. “Not yet,” I warn as you start to shake. I fuck you in long, deliberate strokes, your walls fluttering around me like they’re trying to pull me deeper.
My breathing turns ***istic grunts punched out with each thrust. “Tell me you want it inside.”
“Yes,please,fill me…”
That’s it. I slam home and unload, cock pulsing hard against your cervix, flooding you with heat. You scream my name, begging, “Can I cum?please?”
“Yes!! fuck!!!milk every drop.”
Your second orgasm rips through you, tighter than the first, legs locked around my hips as we both collapse, sweaty, breathless, utterly spent in the wreckage of the sheets.”