#25 seems a perfect fit for Marty Scurll
Fingers gripped my hips, pressing hard enough to bruise. The sound of skin slapping filled my bedroom as the Villain had me bent over the side of my bed. I squeezed and pulled at the blue sheets, trying to hold on for dear life.
“Marty! Fuck!” I cried out nearing my orgasm from his merciless pounding.
He pulled out and gave me a quick swat on the rear. Hard enough to make a sound, but light enough to not hurt. I still let out a whimper from the loss of him inside of me.
“I want to hear it again.” He flipped me over to face him, “Tell me what you said earlier.”
I bit my lip, quivering with need, “I think Dean Ambrose is good looking.” I whispered.
Earlier we had decided to watch RAW for shits and giggles. Playing a drinking game along with the show. Marty didn’t seem to take too kindly of me commenting on Dean Ambrose’s looks.
“I ought to spank you again for not telling the truth, Love.” He smirked, “You said he was ‘hot’. Well, my darling, would you rather Dean Ambrose fuck you instead of me?” He pressed his member against me, sliding it through my folds to tease me.
“No, Marty, please. I’m sorry!” I wiggled closer to him, “I only want you.”
“And you’ll get only me.” He slammed himself back into my heat, “You’re mine. I don’t share. Not even in your wildest dreams.”
My eyes rolled to the back of my head as Marty thrust in and out of me with all the force he could manage. I cried out at the peak of my climax, moaning with pure pleasure.
Marty grunted and his hips bucked against me one last time before he followed with his own orgasm. “Mine.” He growled with a kiss on the nose.
“Your’s.” I replied out of breath.