The Valentine Package

This man, this photographer inside of her, on top of her, taking what he wanted from her body brought out some new undiscovered side that Sara simply could not ignore. She raked her nails against his back, feeling them leave marks as he began to fuck her.

She wanted to be used. She wanted to be treated like a whore; she wanted him to find her desirable. She loved the look of her legs wrapped around his tight ass, pumping into her, how her high heeled shoes went perfect against his skin, how she had to hold on, her grip intense, and her knuckles coming white as she was bombarded by her own pleasure, running through her with each hard stroke of his cock.

He fucked her, hard enough so her entire body moved against him on the bed. She felt like a ragdoll, being torn in half, ravaged in every way possible. She wanted to cry out his name, to tell him that he was hers, but she didn't even know his name.

Why didn't she know his name?

Instead, she bit him, holding back her own scream as she came once more. Her pussy gripped his cock, his mad thrusting inside of her, forcing her open and pushing her pink velvet walls wide, and she could only hold him until he stopped.

As she came it was too much, and it was not enough at the same time. She wanted him out of her, she wanted more. She kissed him fiercely, finding his lips, wanting to hate him and take him over and over again.

He came inside of her. His cock pressed in deep, and then erupted hot and fierce. She loved the feeling, as his cock twitched, filling her to the brim. He kept it deep inside of her, until he was finished, holding her down as she still quivered and shook under his strong and gentle touch.

She felt him finish, slowly withdrawing from her. She could do little to stop him, but her weak grip did want to keep him next to her. Instead, she fell from his touch, lying spent across the Valentine sheets, against the pink velvet drapes and curtains surrounding them.

It took her time to get back to herself, remembering who she was and what she had done. For the time being Sara could only breath, feeling her body tingle with the past sensations, pins and needles of pleasure keeping her pussy enticed and twitching as he leaked out of her.

"I...," she said, as soon as her voice caught, "I should be going."

He nodded. He was dressed once more, and held the camera up. She didn't move as he took another picture of her. She wondered what it would look like, to see her laying back, relaxed, still twitching from what he had done to her.

Slowly, she got up, and retrieved her trench coat. It only made her feel like that much more of a whore when she put it on, knowing she would have to walk back to her car wrapped up in this, another man's cum leaking down her thighs. And even that thought turned her on all the more.

"You will get the package in a week," He said, pulling away the blanket to reveal his apartment. It was like pulling away the warm walls of sleep, and ending the dream. She walked out, on unsteady legs, heading back towards the door she had come from.

"The package?" She turned, her hand resting on the door.

"Valentine package," He said, glancing down at the camera. She had forgotten. Sara blushed, how silly of her. She had come here for a sweet erotic Valentine's package.

"Come back in a week. They'll be ready."

Sara pulled away, biting her lower lip. It would be a chance to see him again, to see his pictures, the selfish acts of wanton display for him, and indulge in his every fantasy once more.

She glanced down at the not quite closed trench coat, seeing the nightie underneath.

"I forgot to give you back the lingerie," She said.

He shook his head, grabbing hold of the door, "Keep it. Wear it for me when you get back."

Sara could only beam, buttoning up the coat. She smiled at him, eyes sparkling with her own awakened desire.