It’s been two weeks. Two weeks of filling her greedy, needy cunt with my seed and trying to knock her up. The guys know we’re together. They’ve backed off entirely on the issue of her being a witness. Now they wanna meet her, get to know my girl. I’m just waiting for the right time. I want her ready. I want her to know without a doubt she belongs to me.
She called her mom like I told her to. Did everything the familia wanted and asked of her to make them comfortable with her being mine. There’s nothing standing between us now.
I smirk as I walk up the stairs. Rigs follows me and I let him, but I put my foot in front of him to stop him from coming into the room. he’s used to it now.
I shut the door and turn to face my sweetheart. She’s tied up on the bed. She tells me she hates it, that I can trust her and don’t have to tie her up when I leave. But that pussy of hers is always soaked when I get home. Her pussy knows it belongs to me. She’s ready for me every day. I know it’s 'cause she’s tied up. She says she hates it, but I know she’s lying. She fucking loves it.
She’s gagged for being a naughty girl this morning. Her panties are in her mouth for talking back to me. I need to get more ties. I’ve got one around her wrists, one keeping her panties in her mouth, and two more around her ankles, keeping her spread open for me. I went all out this morning since I knew I wouldn’t be long. I wasn’t gone for even an hour. And every minute was fucking torture for me. I kick my pants off and walk closer to the bed.
I stare at her pussy that’s just waiting for me. It’s glistening with her juices and my dick jumps in my pants with a desperate need to be inside her.
My eyes lock on hers. “Did you learn your lesson, sweetheart?” She nods her head obediently. She’s fucking perfect. She’s my obedient sweetheart. All fucking mine.
“I’m not sure you did.” I shove two fingers into her tight pussy and pump them in and out. She pulls against the restraints, but her ass isn’t going anywhere. Her moan is muffled by the panties in her mouth. I pull my fingers out before she can cum and remove the tie from around her mouth. She spits out her panties and pants. Her eyes are on me, just waiting to hear what I have to tell her. So fucking perfect.
I smack a hand down on her pussy. Slap! Her head falls back, and she moans again with pleasure. It’s music to my ears. She’s so fucking close already. I love keeping her on the edge. “Now, whose pussy is this?”
“Your pussy,” she’s quick to answer, and I reward her by pushing down on her clit and rubbing small circles. She struggles against the pleasure.
“Damn right it’s my pussy.” I push against her front wall with my fingers and smile as her walls tighten and her cum soaks my hand. She’s been waiting for a full hour to cum. I should give her another.
I pull the ties free from around her ankles, but keep her wrists bound. My hips keep her legs open as I line my cock up. I lean down and kiss my sweetheart and she kisses me back with passion. I slam into her all the way to the hilt and fuck her mercilessly. She pulls her lips away to scream out my name.
That’s right. My name. This pussy is mine. She’s mine, all fucking mine. I pick up her legs and place her calves on my shoulders. Her eyes go wide as I slam in deeper and deeper, taking her to a new edge of pain and pleasure. Her pussy is so fucking tight like this. She’s squeezing the hell out of my dick.
“Vince!” she yells out, as her legs start to tremble. Fuck yeah. Keep screaming my name.
My balls draw up watching her chest rise and fall, and her eyes nearly roll back in her head. My spine tingles as I push my dick as deep into her as I can. I cum violently as the head of my dick butts up against her cervix. A shudder goes through my body as her pussy spasms just as violently, matching the intensity of my orgasm, and she cries out in pleasure.
My lips crush against hers, silencing her moans and I reach one hand up to untie her wrists. It doesn’t take long. I’ve had plenty of practice.
Her hands grip and tug my hair and she kisses me harder. She fucking loves me. I know she does. I wrap my arms around her body and roll her onto my chest. She pulls back with her eyes closed, lips slightly swollen from our bruising kiss. Her hair’s a mess, looking just-fucked and her skin is flushed. The sight of her in complete rapture makes my heart swell.
All that shit was worth it.
“You got some boxes, baby,” I call out over my shoulder as I pick up a box. She’s been getting a shit-ton of packages. Books, makeup, clothes, art supplies, all sorts of shit. It makes me happy that she’s finally feeling more comfortable with me buying her things. Not to mention that now she’s got her painting hobby to have something to focus on.
I look suspiciously at the box in my hands and then at the remainder of the packages on the porch. They aren’t marked or labeled in any way. I don’t fucking like it. At first I assumed they were something she ordered, but there's no indication that these were sent through the mail. Someone left them here. I hear her coming down the stairs and I hold an arm out to stop her from coming any closer. I don’t know what’s in the boxes, but she’s not going to be around when I open them.
“Elle, don’t--” She pushes past me and screams out.
“Fucking bitch!” Elle cuts me off, and I turn to her in shock. That kind of language doesn’t come out of my sweetheart’s mouth. Her eyes are glassy with tears, but her facial expression reads that she’s pissed.
“They’re mine. I didn’t get a chance to unpack them. My mother must’ve brought them over.” I can feel her anger brewing. All over her mother. Sandra. What’d she do now?
“What’d she send you?” I can only guess that whatever's in the box, it’s not wanted or needed, based on how Elle kicks the box and storms away. I debate on taking the boxes inside, but I’ll wait till I find out what they contain.
“Sweetheart, answer me,” I call out for her across the hall. She falls into the sofa looking defeated. Sandra really pisses me off. The only time my sweetheart is unhappy is when she hears from her mother.
“They’re my boxes of things that were at her house. At my house. I didn’t even get to unpack them.” She pauses and then continues. “I told her she could come for a visit.” She presses her lips together and crosses her arms over her knees, pulling them into her chest. She’s a mix of hurt and anger and I’m not sure which is going to win out.
“Okay?” I don’t understand. I must be missing something.
“I told her I couldn’t give her any money since I wasn’t working, but she could come see me if she wanted.” I know all of this already. She asked me what I thought about that arrangement beforehand, and I agreed that would be wise. Elle’s a smart girl. Plus, she enjoys this arrangement as much as I do. She hasn’t done a damn thing suspicious and asks for permission before doing anything. I get the feeling she really enjoys me having the control in our relationship, which I fucking love.
“I’m missing something,” I say. The tears in her eyes fall down her cheeks and she wipes them away angrily.
“I didn’t tell you what she said,” she answers.
“She said I was a selfish bitch for abandoning her, and that I could come get my shit.”