Charlotte

Charlotte

Sixty-Four Years Later

Damn it. The sly, skanky, dirty bastard was doing it again. His fingers tightened around my throat as he knelt behind me.

"Just one more, Charlotte," he said predictably.

"You said that the last four times," I managed to gasp out before I gripped his thigh and tried to sit back on his dick, but his grip on my neck didn't allow me to move.

He held my neck in place before he began to move slowly back and forth, rubbing his dick inside me, making me groan in frustration.

"Your wet cunt says otherwise," he said pulling me backwards, making me arch my back. "One more baby, and I will pound your cunt so hard that you will feel me for days."

I knew I was in trouble when his hand moved past my belly and between my legs. His fingers began to circle my clit, and my legs trembled.

"Be a good girl for me," he murmured. "Besides, thirty is a nice round number."

My head fell backwards when he ground himself against my ass while rubbing me harder.

"Fine," I said.

He pushed me face down onto the bed and held my throat before he began to thrust in and out of me, barely giving me time to brace my legs in the new position. I gasped for air when his fingers tightened around my throat. His dick was battering my insides as he had promised, and I spluttered as I came around his cock with my pussy spasming around him.

Fuck it. It was worth it.

The End.