Page 51 of Craving Demons

He wanted more. And horny me wanted to give it to him.

But stupid, responsible me was stronger and a good fingering was all I’d permit. At least for myself.

“You want to come?” I purred, squirming on the couch and shaking my tits a little for him.

“Tell me how.” His words were clipped. I knew he was desperate for me.

“Got a condom?” I asked, knowing I was sending the wrong message since we weren’t going to have intercourse. But given that I didn’t have anything else to wear except extra panties, I didn’t want to leave work covered in cum.

He raised a brow, but didn’t otherwise question my request, and went to his desk, returning with an extra-large Trojan. Yeah, of course, it would be extra-large.

I shifted so I was sitting on the edge of the couch, not bothering to do anything to cover myself. My tits were still on display, pushed up by the taut top of the dress and I kicked off my panties — they weren’t much use to me now anyway — and sat with my legs wide, so he could see my pleasured pussy.

“Here,” I said, taking the condom from him and tearing open the foil as he began to undo his pants. “Stop,” I purred. “I want to do that. I want to feel you.”

His gaze came up to mine and I smiled as I reached out to run a hand over his pants, caressing over the bulge of his cock and savoring his shudder of pleasure.

With a groan, he drew his hands back and I undid the button and the zipper of his expensive pants revealing a pair of silk boxers and — God I hope my eyes didn’t bulge too much — his massive cock straining to get out.

Slowly, trying to tease him like he’d teased me, I slid his pants down to his knees then pulled the front away from his boxers before shifting them down and licked my lips at the thick length of man-meat that throbbed before me.

Boy was I going to enjoy that… when I was no longer off men, of course. And right now I was still off men. Really.

I rolled the condom over his cock, savoring how hard he was for me, and glanced up at him. His jaw twitched and his eyes were hooded, barely open as he let out a ragged breath.

Yeah, this is payback.

I pulled him close, my hands going around to grasp his tight ass, forcing him to step in between my legs and placing his cock right where I wanted it. Leaning forward, I let out a hot breath over his tip and began stroking him, my mouth watering and my desire starting to pick up again. But sucking him off wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to watch him come, wanted to see him fall apart in my hands, like he’d done with me.

“I know you want to come,” I whispered and leaned back, wanting him to see all of me, my exposed tits and my legs spread wide as he gazed down. “Close your eyes and imagine letting loose without this condom on, covering me with your cum.”

“Fuck,” he grunted.

He was already so close, I could feel it in the trembling of his body, the twitching strain of his flared and heated erection, so, I was surprised when he didn’t come right away. Instead, miraculously, he held on, his cock swelling larger still, throbbing in time with the rapid beating of his heart, getting closer and closer to the edge.

I slipped a hand down to cup his heavy balls, feeling their weight and massaging them while my other hand ran to the tip of his cock and squeezed hard before continuing to pump his length in savage strokes.

“Fuck!” he growled. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

His hips bucked and every muscle in his body tensed. With a long, loud groan and the most amazing, fierce, and strained expression, his cock pulsed, and hot cum shot into the condom, making the end bulge.

Holy fuck!

And it just kept coming, each spasm pouring more and more into the condom. His balls contracted and tightened as he emptied himself. I knew condoms could hold a lot, but I was beginning to worry he’d overflow this one.

But eventually, his breathing began to slow and his cock started to soften and the condom held it all in.

Wow… just wow.

With a grunt, he took control of himself, grabbing the condom and retreating to his desk to toss it into his garbage with a wet and heavy thud. I didnotenvy the janitor who was going to find that.

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t fucking hot,” I said. I got up and slowly shifted myself back into my dress, but didn’t bother with my panties. I’d go commando until I could get to my purse and grab a new pair.

“You’refucking hot,” he groaned. Then he quirked his head to the side, brow furrowing just a little. “That tattoo you have. Is that a Celtic Rose?”

My tattoo? Oh!

I slid a hand over my dress to the spot low on my abdomen. No one had been meant to see that. I’d gotten it after I’d decided to go off men, so I hadn’t had it very long. It was a stylized rose-in-bloom made of crisscrossing red lines, like a Celtic knot. The flower sat over my uterus with a winding stem — in the same Celtic style — delving down toward my lady parts.