Read Online The Christmas Exhibition by V T Vaughn - Free Book Online Page A

eyes. “I need this.”
                  I grinned, placing one hand on my member and the other around her waist. “You're going to get fucked hard, little girl.” I positioned my cock at the entrance to her cunt, glided against her soaking lips and pushed hard and deep inside her.
                  Jill slapped my chest. “What the fuck are you doing, you fucking idiot?” she demanded.
                  I was speechless.
                  “How dare you!”
                  I bucked my hips angrily up against her, grinding my cock to the base inside her pussy.
                  “Fuck!” she screamed. “You fucker!”
                  I seized her chin and forced her to look down at me. The pom-pon swung out of her vision.
                  “You fucker, Matt, what are you doing to me?” She was shrieking, arching her back and shoving her cunt aggressively onto me. She slapped my chest suddenly again, stinging and reddening a palm print.
                  “What?” I was clenching my teeth.
                  Jill threw her hands around my neck, slid forward and swallowed my tongue in her mouth, pushing her breasts against my chest and the velvet insides of her vagina up and down on my cock. “You...” She was insatiable, biting and licking my tongue. “... Know how I feel...” She sucked swiftly on my lips. “... About letting you...” She pulled my head back and devoured my neck. “Fuck me without a condom!”
                  I clasped her breasts in my hands, massaged each areola simultaneously and pinched her nipples gently, fearful of a rebuke for my more aggressive nature. “Yet your cunt would've loved that bastard Sean fucking you without a condom.”
                  My words met with the desired effect, as Jill's body careened suddenly backwards, rocked by convulsions. “Oh God!” she cried, shutting her eyes.
                  I suckled on her tits, ramming my cock up inside her.
                  “You fucker! Fucking me without a condom. No! No! No!” Yes! Yes! Yes! Her demeanour cried. “Dirty fucker!”
                  I wondered where her mind was. On Sean? On his fingers? His lips? Or the gap in his fly?
                  “Give me it, baby.” Jill's fingernails scraped my neck to my shoulders. “Give me your inexperienced cock. Show me what I've shown you.”
                  I held her hips down on my thighs, and fucked forcefully and speedily up into her. “Slut!”
                  The Santa hat fell from Jill's head to the floor. “Shit, Matt.”
                  “What are you thinking?”
                  Her body stretched. Her pert breasts pointed outwards and upwards.
                  “Answer me, slut!”
                  Her throat gargled. “Sean,” she managed hoarsely. Her pussy lips swallowed my cock to the base. Her clitoris hit my groin. Her juices exploded suddenly, and saturated my pubic hair in a mix of our moistures.
                  I stood, lifting Jill with me.
                  Her torso was a turbulence of orgasmic destruction. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
                  I placed her on the coffee table, paused to position my pupils on hers, then fucked violently into her.
                  “Oh my God!” she screamed, as my balls slapped against her thighs and the wood of the table. Sounds of sweat and love juice grinding together coursed the room. Jill was powerless to proceed in any direction but the one dictated by her climax. Her eyes rolled back in her head. “Jesus, Matt, give me it harder! Give me it! Treat me like a slut!”
                  “You are a slut!” I bellowed, and shoved her back on the table.
                  Her head smacked off