Sam twisted her hair, gave her that inch. Then he was yanking her back as her convulsions made her throat cinch around the flared ridge of his swollen cock. Down again, forcing her head forward and twisting it. Then quickly back.

Her stomach ached from the sudden spasm. Tears of fear and hurt lined her cheeks. She felt one warm droplet hang from her chin.

"Move your tongue, baby! Like you're licking a popsicle!"

The thick hand tightened in her hair. Marcia let her tongue trace the bulged shape along the underside of the cock. His prick was swollen tight with blood. It was hot too and very, very smooth.

She didn't like it, didn't like the cock she was being forced to suck… and yet there was some other side, another part of her that responded to that swollen prick between her lips. Just so he wouldn't ram his cock into her throat again. She licked, hoping to entertain him enough… enough for that anyway.

"You never sucked a man's cock before… I can tell." He smoothed the side of her face. "I didn't mean to be so rough, Marcia. I mean, I dig you plenty. I dig you more than any other chick I've had."

He pulled her face away from his hot cock. It slipped over her bottom lip. She looked dazedly at the swaying cock half a foot from her mouth. She looked wearily up at Sam. Her back and neck ached from being in such an agonizing position.

She wished he would let her up onto her knees. He let her hair go and her head flopped down into the softness of a pillow. She didn't try to get loose. She felt suspended, floating. Her cunt was too wet, too warm. It felt uncomfortable, as if it were leaking through her panties.

Footsteps.

The bed sagged behind her as Sam crawled onto it. He bent to kiss the backs of her knees. She didn't move a muscle. Marcia closed her eyes tight and thought of her bed at home.