“Wendy,” I breathe out on a sigh, “How will I ever fit inside you?”

Leaning forward, I take her pussy in my mouth, lick up her center, my fingers still deep inside her walls. When she cries out, I punish her by sticking a third finger quickly inside her cunt. Her breaths come harshly; I can hear her panting increase as I suck her clit in between my lips. Her hands find my hair and she tugs on it, urging me to stop. With my free hand, I slightly rise up on my knees and cover her mouth.

“I’m going to make you cum so hard you scream, Wendy. Now, be a good, naughty, girl and cum for me, baby. I want to feel you squeeze my fingers tight with your pretty, wet pussy.”

She moans into my hand. Slowly, I lower my face back down to her center and as soon as my mouth sucks down on her clit she explodes. She bites my hand, screaming just like I said, as her orgasm courses through her. Screaming out in pleasure. Yelling out in pain. I force my fingers deeper, curling them and running them through her thick wetness as her center convulses around them. She squirts in my mouth with such force I groan out in bliss. Her hips raise off the bed and I release her mouth to force them back down, devouring her cunt until her screaming stops.

She whimpers as I lick up her velvet center more tenderly. She shakes as I pull my fingers from deep inside her and kiss her slick, sensitive skin.

“What do you want now, Wendy?” I whisper. Looking up, I watch her panting from her release. Standing, my cock rests at her entrance and I instinctively press my hips forward, my cock sliding up, over her wetness, my crown hitting her clit. My dick needs to feel the pleasure that just exploded across my tongue, so I urge her to answer me, “Do you want what I want?”

“Please,” she begs, and I’m fucking done for. “Please, Peter, don’t make me wait any longer.”

Fisting my length, I press into her tight opening for the first time, her center sucks in my crown easily before we both hiss out in response. She cries, her sex unwilling to open further and the pain I feel from needing more, but not wanting to take more if it’s going to hurt her, is evident in both of us as I lean forward and grit out, “Wendy, Darling, I need you to relax for me.”

“I can’t,” she cries. “It hurts.”

I cage her in, my forehead resting against her own, as I try my hardest not to press into her any further until she is ready. Against every part of my body that tells me not to say what I am about to say next, I whisper, “We can stop.”