Dear Diary, I Met A Boy...

Dear dairy, I met a boy and he told me to "Stop trying to push my head away and take your licking like a good girl."

"Mmmhh..." He licked me again. His shaved beard tickling the insides of my thighs and his lips soft against mine... "You're dripping down my chin so I know you like this. Actually, I know you love this. Nothing makes my Ella moan more than a good tonguing. Am I right?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't find the words. Every feeling was ineffable and I was way too out of it to try to think, but he demanded:

"Answer me when I'm talking to you or I just might tongue your little clit all night." He laughed to himself, "Actually, I might do that anyway."

I lifted up on to my elbows again, so I could meet his gaze. He was waiting for my response and when the words didn't leave my lips. He gave me a sly smile and set back in.

I gasped and cried and tried to wiggle my hips away from his suctioning lips. Nothing worked. He led me there, arms wound around my thighs, pinning me wide and making me take it. Take the tonguing that kept teasing my clit with light licks. Take the bruising of his large hands sinking into my skin. Still, I loved it, I loved it so much I could feel myself clenching around nothing. I could feel my skin burning up under the masterful manipulation of my body. He was just having fun though, he wouldn't stop until I was mindless.

"Aaron." I said his name faintly. "I can't remember the question." Couldn't remember much other than how it feels to be his arms.

Dear diary, I met a boy and he told me to, "Arch your fucking back, Abriella. Don't make me tell you again." He pushed my back in, keeping my hips high with a steady hand. His thrusts were deep and hard. So hard they threatened to shatter my very bones and send me crashing through the mattress.

My body shook. My belly and my mind full of him. I could barely breathe. Barely see. My face pressed to the sheets. My mouth agape and my heart racing against the mattrass. He leaned over me. Sweaty chest to my back and I could feel him, pressing me into the bed. Anchoring me to the moment.

A tear slipped from my eye, not from pain, just pleasure. Always pleasure.

He whispered in my ear.

"Sweet sweet Abriella. Which pussy hugs me better than my girl's? None. That's why the rock on your finger could blind us both right now, right? Told the whole world you're mine. Now I want you to say it while I pound your tight pussy til you come. Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours. I'm yours. I'm yours!"

Dear dairy, I met a boy. He surrounded me with all the things my heart desired and loved me so intensely it terrified me. How would I do without him? Would I be able to breathe if I ever lost him. It was too much to let go, I knew I could never leave him behind.

"Aaron, I'm so close. I'm so close." My body shook. Unable to keep moving I stilled. "I can't. Help me." I whined the words. He grunted. My walls clenched. I could feel him throbbing inside me. It wasn't often that he made me ride. Neither of us would usually have the patience for my slow unpracticed moves. We'd be way too needy to endure it. Tonight though he told me I had to do it by myself. He told me he wanted to see me try. I struggled to take all of him in the beginning and now with each thick inch nestled inside me. I struggled to move. He filled me completely, taking all the slick space and I was hopeless to stop him. Helpless to resist it. The final piece of the puzzle left blank in the centre. He filled me to my centre.

"Put your hands on me."

"Your hands, Aaron." I gripped his hands bringing them to my hips. "Help me with your hands."

He gripped me so hard his clean cut nails sunk into my skin. He lifted me and I moaned. He brought me down hard as he drove his hips upward. I fell forward crying out, "Aaron!"

"Yes, Abriella?"

He lifted me again, drove himself deep. My back bowed, fingers curled against his sweat dampened skin. "Aaron!"

"Yes, baby?"

"It's too much. It's too much."

"That can't be true, baby. This is your dick so how can it be too much?"

"I don't --- I can't."

"Yes you can, yes you can, baby." He punctuated his claim with a hard thrust of his hips. The cramping in my belly was almost unbearable. My hands trembled as I tried to steady myself, balanced against his now bended knees, trying to give me comfort even though he was the one wrecking me.

"How can you say you can't take it, pretty girl? Wasn't this big cock made just for you? Didn't I stamp my name into this very pussy when I first took it? Hmm? Answer me! Don't you wear my ring? Doesn't this tight pussy belong to your husband?"

His barrage of questions were met with no answers just my parted lips and my quivering hole. Quivering. Clenching and unclenching, milking around flesh made wet from my excitement and thick from his. Angry veins pressed into soft flesh and throbbed so violently that I could feel each pulse with our stillness. He waited for my answer. My often patient husband. My often hungry husband. He ravished my body nightly. I should be able to take it. This pussy has his name engraved on every surface.

"Daddy, its just when you get so big it stretches my little pussy so much I can barely take it."

He growled. A low deep rumbling sound that didn't frighten me. If anything, I could feel myself dripping down between us. A wet delight hoping that I've provoked him enough to move him from hungry to starved. Patient to impatient. I want to make him desperate, so desperate that he can think of nothing else but planting himself deep inside my being.

He flipped us, putting me to my back and pinning my legs open with his hips. I gasped.

"Always been a little tease, haven't you? Since the day we met. Is this what you want, Ella? You want daddy to pound your little pussy while you do none of the work?"

The cry ripped from me as he surged into me to the hilt, pinning my knees to my chest and keeping me there.

"Yes!"

Dear Diary, I met a boy. He filled my heart with lust and joy. Dear diary, we fell in love and every night he made me come:

"Shhh, shh, that's it. That's my girl. Look how you're making it glisten, baby. Such a fucking princess making magic on daddy's cock. Whose tight pussy is like disney magic?"

"Mine." I hiccuped barely recovered from the earthshattering orgasm I just had. He was still thrusting, slow long strokes that made my wall quake. The remnants of my orgasm created a creamy ring around the base of his cock pushed there from his constant pounding mere minutes ago.

He thrusted hard with a disapproving click of his tongue. "I wanna hear her name, whose tight pussy was made by fucking fairies?"

"Abriella's!" I couldn't help screaming my answer, he was still so hard and I was still so sensitive. My body was daring me to try and come again.

"Who makes her man so hard he can't see straight?"

"Abriella." A whine. A whimper, he was starting to move again. Faster. Faster! Deeper. Harder! "Ah! Aaron. Please."

"That's right, say the name of the man you own. Say my name like you know you own me, woman. Say my name while you take my cock like you were meant to. Say my name, Ella!"

"Aaron!"

He pumped deep, stilled... jerked. "Fuck! Ella..."

Dear Diary, I met a boy and sometimes he comes home horny as a bull. He pulled me from my chair and bent me over our dinning table. He flipped my dress up. Growling at my ear that he'd needed me all day.

I heard his belt unbuckle. I felt my panties being ripped down my thighs. The force of his thrust sent my pelvis bashing into the glass table top. He reached arouns catching my clit under the weight of his index and middle fingers. He bucked against me, short deep thrusts. Grunting in my ears, "Every day away from you is torture. The only comfort I find is the beaconing I hear coming from under your skirt. Your little hole always calls for me as soon as I walk through that door. 'Welcome home.' Absolutely nothing feels as good as you do to me."

His fingers quickened on my clit, his thrusts deep and almsot painful. I could barely breathe, his other hand gripped my top, ripping the material so he could grope my breast. "Turned your man into an uncivilized caveman with this pussy didn't you, Ella? Look at me on top- of you as soon as I get home. Did you realize the type of man I'd become at 35 when you met me at 16, Ella? Do you like what you've turned me into? Trained a boy to be a man with this pussy, didn't you?"

His thrusts were more frantic now, sending my upper body crashing against the glass, my arms reached out to grab... anything. I moaned his name, "Aaron."

His fingers applied even greater pressure to my clit. I cried out.

"I dare you to try and take it away, Abriella." I was close, so was he. I could tell by how big he felt pushing into me. "I'd kill for this pussy, so go on and come. "

"I know you want to, baby..." Give me something to clean up! Come on baby. Give daddy something to clean up..."

Dear diary, I met a boy and he told me to, "Make a mess."