Celi Shiel Tue May 23, 2023 1:31 am
Celi positively keened as John nibbled and sucked at the tender skin of her neck, her head unconsciously falling to the side invitingly as he left possessive hickeys and bitemarks across her fair skin that'd be near impossible to hide if she'd dared to try.
They were down right claiming in their existence, the fresh angry red bruises marring her otherwise clear and pristine alabaster skin, marking her as his in the most obvious way.
But hiding them was certainly the furthest thing from the rosettes mind right now.
If anything, if her crying and near worship of his name and what he was doing to her was anything to go by, she'd gladly wear them as she proudly sauntered her way out of the school on his arm.
Given that she could still walk after this that is.
Even as he ravaged her, going at a furious pace that left her breathless and her chest heaving, yet still crying out for more. His fingers almost lightly and deftly played with her sensitive clit with the ease of a master, his talented digits causing her legs to tremble like a newborn fawns as he sank deeper and deeper into her core with every thrust. Rolling his hips sinfully as he did so, teasingly, just to make her walls quiver and squeeze around him, molding her core perfectly to his shape.
She'd lost count of many times now he'd charged past the gates to her fertile womb, his tip tauntingly bumping into the back of her most sacred chamber and causing her to gasp and groan, knowing she liked it when he buried himself deeply so. His cock sitting right at home in her depths, and the thought that he was so deeply imbedded in her still made her hotter than she could've ever imagined, and had her juices flowing readily down her thighs as her walls quaked and gripped him in need.
Wanting him to fill her yet again with his thick and potent load.
It was funny, to many, the very idea that the Celi Shiel of all people could be reduced to a moaning and wailing minx was beyond impossible. A fantasy if anything else, of a reality that could and would, never be. She was proud and proper they'd say, far too above her peers to mingle with anyone below her standards, and far too much if a perfectionist to settle for anything less of flawlessness in a relationship.
Much less be content to hang out with a guy like John Wilder.
Oh, how those masses could suck ass right now.
John of course, had none of the charisma, charm, or riches that the mindless many thought she'd adore. He had no suave or smarts to get him by, and his status to most was below par.
Especially when compared to hers it seemed.
Yet, despite the two of them being the polar opposites in every way, despite her acts of annoyance and resistance to his advances. It was John alone, and no one else, who she trusted enough to reduce her to a shivering and sensitive mess in his arms.
He'd seen through her mask of a perfect and well-bred lady, seen her supposed "proud, cold, and haughty" attitude for the scared and guarded girl that she was. He never threw flowery flattery at her, never bothered trying to make her swoon with sweet nothings, to win her over with gifts and luxuries, or wow her with an intellect he didn't possess.
Instead he persistently followed her, chatting with her and teasing her like they'd known each other for years, treated her with a familiarity and kinship that he only reserved for a select few.
He may have been one of many who had been trying to woo her, to win her over like the prize many thought she was. But John was the only one who had ever treated her like a human, he was the only one who took in all her angry rants, cold stares, and stubborn attitude with an amused smile. Provoked her even, into outbursts just to rile her up, all with a satisfied smirk on his face as he took her assault like it was nothing.
And yet despite all that, he pursued her, protected her, and let her be herself without having to constantly be on guard or wear a mask. And she loved him for it.
So she had no trouble at all throwing away something like a falsified pride or a supposed haughty attitude in the name of passion, the only barrier really in her way was her own shyness and modesty and quite frankly, he'd tossed those out the window ages ago into their lovemaking.
"Pleeeease!" Celi wailed, using what little strength she had to push back into his hips to get more of him inside her. Her walls were fluttering and rippling around his thick girth again, her release falling upon her as she felt her body try and welcome all of him in as he coaxed her closer and closer to the edge with his teasing and talented fingers egging her on.
She wanted his cum, she wanted his thick seed resting hotly in her belly, and she shamelessly told him as much as her body shook and her back arched into him. "Pleeease John, I want you! I want your cum! Fill me...pleeease!"
Home
Celi Shiel
