Slut indiscretion

I would make him angry by pretending that he wasn’t doing it right. I would try to insult him and make him angry. I loved angry hard sex. “What’s the problem? Don’t you want it?” I would egged him on and it always worked. He would fuck me harder. “Don’t be a whimp,” I often shouted while he was humping me. “Fuck me harder. Pound me, baby. Pound my ass. Pound it baby.” He stepped up his game when he heard those words. I loved it.
“You are asking for it bitch. I’m sure as Hell gon give it to you.” He would say as he started humping with aggressiveness. I felt my body jolt with each stroke. “Yes, yes yes.” He was doing just what I loved and believe me the man didn’t disappoint me at all. I feel that when a man fucks me hard, he aint joking. He wants the pussy bad, and that validated me. Mr. Smith and I didn't speak a lot of words because moaning, screaming, and groaning were our only means of communication. However, we did seem to read each other’s minds. After that first time we would have sex twice a week at least
Mr. Smith was a great and considerate lover and great sex buddy. He even bought me sexy lingerie to wear, but that was because he got more out of it than I did. He loved to pretend that I was his girlfriend and watch me parade around the office dressed in skimpy lingerie. It gave him a massive hardon, and he made sure that I saw him fondling himself to my sexy dancing and dirty talk. “Don’t you want some of this good ass-cunt sugar?” I said things like that and shook my ass at him. I saw an immediate effect of my sexual presence, and sometimes I shudder to think how I could bury all that cock in my tiny asshole. Yet somehow I always manage to bury his hungry cock to the hilt. “Do you like seeing me in sexy lingerie I'm wearing ?” I continued to tease and shake my bubble ass, and my hormone enhanced breast. We both got what we wanted: I liked teasing him, and he liked watching, until we both needed relief. That’s when the hard, hot and heavy fucking started. That’s what I live for.