Ella perched at the hotel bar, her skin prickling with restless heat as she toyed with her wine glass. She’d scrubbed the day’s grind off in a steamy shower, trading her stiff suit for a loose top that grazed her curves and leggings so tight they moulded to her thighs, Richard’s admitted obsession, confessed in husky whispers over months of dirty calls and texts. Tonight, her work trip had aligned with his freedom, and the pent-up lust between them was a live grenade, ticking down.
Her phone buzzed. Here. Where you at? Her cunt throbbed at his words. Bar, left corner. Baggy top, black leggings, hurry the fuck up, she typed, smirking as she sipped her wine, legs squeezing together.
He strode in moments later, tall, all muscle and menace, his eyes slicing through the dim light until they locked on her. That filthy grin spread slow across his face, and her breath caught, pussy already slick. She stood as he closed in, legs trembling, and planted a teasing peck on his cheek his stubble rough, his scent a drug of cedar and sweat. They dropped into their seats, the air crackling. The bartender slid him a whiskey, but Ella’s focus was on his hands, big, rough, made for wrecking her.
“Drive okay?” she purred, voice thick, barely pretending at small talk.
“Fucking endless,” he growled, eyes devouring her leggings, tracing the outline of her thighs. “But I’m ravenous now, and not for food.” The raw edge in his tone made her clit pulse. She leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “So how do we… work up that hunger?”
His gaze turned molten. “By fucking you senseless first.” The words hit like a slap, and she squirmed, soaked. They tossed around the idea of dinner, bullshit pleasantries, before downing their drinks in sync, glasses clattering, and bolting for the lifts.
The lift doors shut, and Richard pounced. He slammed her against the wall, mouth crashing into hers, wet, filthy, all tongue and teeth. His hand dove between her thighs, cupping her through the leggings, grinding his palm against her swell until she whined into him, dripping through the fabric. She clawed his back, hips bucking, but the lift slowed, forcing them apart, panting, feral, as they stumbled to her room.
Inside, restraint shattered. They collided, kissing like starved beasts, tongues tangling, her nails raking his neck. Fully clothed, they hit the bed, her grinding her soaked crotch against the bulge in his jeans, his cock straining to break free. She yanked at his shirt, desperate to rip it off, when he pulled back, voice a low rasp. “Fuck, I’m sweaty, give me a quick shower.” He smirked, shedding his jacket as he swaggered to the en-suite, leaving her throbbing and unhinged.
The shower hissed on, and Ella’s control evaporated. She tore off her clothes, top flung, leggings peeled down her slick thighs, panties a drenched scrap and dove under the sheets, naked, cunt aching. The water cut off, and Richard emerged, bare and dripping, cock swinging heavy and thick, precum beading at the tip. Her mouth watered—he was massive, veined, a weapon built to ruin her.
He slid in beside her, grinning like a devil, and their mouths fused again, sloppy, bruising, all heat. His hands roamed, kneading her tits, twisting her nipples until she gasped, then sliding down to tease her sopping folds. She gripped his cock, too fat to fully wrap her fingers around, pulsing hot and stroked him, imagining it choking her throat, splitting her wide. He growled, shoving two fingers inside her, pumping hard, curling against her G-spot as his thumb mashed her clit. She bucked, whimpering, teetering on the edge, but he wasn’t done.
He flipped her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, the other guiding his cock to her entrance. He teased her first rubbing the fat head along her slit, coating it in her slick, tapping her clit until she begged, “Please, fuck me.” Then he thrust in, deep and brutal, stretching her so wide she screamed. He didn’t stop pounding her relentlessly, hips snapping, balls slapping her ass. She wrapped her legs around him, heels digging into his back, urging him deeper.
Sweat beaded on his brow as he fucked her harder, shifting angles hitting her sweet spot over and over, making her sob with pleasure. She clawed the sheets, then reached down, rubbing her clit in frantic circles as he railed her. The pressure built, unbearable, the orgasm slamming through her, spasming around his cock, gushing wet as she shrieked his name. He kept going, thrusting through her waves, dragging it out until her vision blurred.
But he wasn’t finished. He pulled out, cock dripping with her cum, and flipped her onto her stomach. “Ass up,” he commanded, voice rough. She obeyed, trembling, presenting herself, pussy swollen, glistening. He gripped her hips, plunging back in, fucking her from behind with savage force. The new angle had her moaning into the pillow, every thrust jolting her forward, his hands bruising her flesh. She slipped a hand beneath herself, teasing her clit again, chasing another high.
He slowed suddenly, torturing her, long, deep strokes, letting her feel every inch. “You like that?” he rasped, slapping her ass hard. “Yes, fuck, yes,” she gasped, pushing back against him. He sped up again, relentless, grunting as he slammed into her, the bed creaking under them. Her second orgasm built fast, white hot, blinding and she came again, harder, screaming as her cunt clenched, milking him.
He groaned, thrusts faltering, and pulled out, still rigid, slick with her juices. She collapsed, chest heaving, and glanced at him, his cock twitched, untouched by release. “Fuck, you okay?” he asked, voice hoarse, concern flickering.
“More than okay,” she panted, smirking through the haze. “You didn’t cum.”
“Not yet,” he said, that filthy grin returning. “I know you want a condom if I do” After a pause adding “Lets grab one.”
She laughed, breathless, already craving him to destroy her again.
OxonWoods Man 