Thread: New Queen // {BearXBarker}

Your skin reminds me, He placed kisses slow down her shoulder as his hand slid down her arm, Of brown sugar, He continued, kissing outwards before he moved back in. His other hand grasped her long hair and let his fingers slide through, admiring how it shone like dark silk. You're just as sweet. He offered the compliment, but she could only provide a soft wan smile. He was the fourth suitor that had called upon her, and the fourth that had haggled with the price as if she wasn't worth what he was expected to pay. But here he was, fawning over her as if she were a goddess. Samaira turned her head towards him and let a coy smile play onto her lips as she purred, Why don't you see how sweet I am on the inside? She teased, grabbing the hand that was sliding down her limb and guiding it to her breast, encouraging him to fondle her breast harshly. I think you would like it. She assured, able to feel his growing erection behind her as he pulled her body back against his own. His skin felt sweaty already and her stomach rolled. He pushed her forward rather unceremoniously and forced her onto her knees, pulling at the elegant dresses that she wore. He hiked her skirt up to over her hips and tossed them over her head, because this wasn't the moment he wanted to admire her beauty. His fingers moved now between her thighs and softly stroked her lips, suddenly shoving his middle finger up harshly into her sex. Ohhh, so wet. He growled back to her as he used his free hand unbuckle his pants, his pointer finger pressing gently against the puckered ring of her ass. Tell me you want it. It was a command, and like all others she knew the words and she pressed her hips back towards him, flexing her rear so that her rump looked rounder for him, Ohh, please. I want it so bad, She begged, her voice hiding the fact her face was as blank as could be. It was enough to stroke his ego into a burning flame and he pushed his digit into her tight rear. Her nose scrunched but she adjusted to it, letting out a low moan of faked ecstacy. Mmm, more. I want you . She begged from beneath the cloak of her own skirts, her body pressing back into his invading fingers as he started to work them in and out of her holes. It wasn't sensual to be 'pleasured' this way, but she moaned as if he were driving her wild. The moment lingered and she feared that he would drag every minute of this out, but she finally felt his fingers leave and the head of his short cock press against her ass. Good girl, He talked to her like she was a dog, grabbing her hips as he shoved his pitiful length into her without any preparation. She groaned, a noise that wasn't faked. It hurt, but she pretended to enjoy it. He didn't last long. Four, possibly five thrusts, before he let out a gasp and fell limp above her, hugging her hips as his cock emptied itself into her. She could feel it as he slid out, her nose wrinkling. Oh, sugar, He was back to the kinder version, caressing the back of her thighs as he watched his seed spill slowly out of her hole, You're too sweet for me. He left before she'd even gotten her skirts back down, shoving his cock swiflty back into his pants as he left the room. And like all others, she didn't miss him when he was gone. Her body ached but she was used to that. Samaira gathered up her money from her hidden stash and cleaned herself up before she left, heading out into the dirty streets that she worked at night. At nineteen, Samaira was a girl that had grown up too fast. She'd been a beauty as a child, her skin a golden-brown and her eyes as dark as chocolate. She had been once the pride of her village, because beauty like hers was rare in a place rampant with sickness. Her parents had been poor, so much that they couldn't feed her. At barely sixteen, they'd sold her to a man that had promised to put clothes on her back and keep food in her mouth. And he'd kept his promise. The only catch was that she'd been forced to service him in lonely nights. Then his friends.Then strangers. The names started to blur together and she'd long lost count. She'd lost her care. The sex was great, but her life had become an endless cycle of men that cared nothing for her. She couldn't even remember where they'd been since he'd stolen her from India. Samaira didn't let those thoughts linger. Instead, she let herself enjoy small treasures - such as fine silk headdresses and pretty skirts. She turned down an alley that was one street away from her most favored vendor when she saw a young boy skirt into it, a bag of potatoes in his arms. She paused in her tracks, watching as he hid himself against the wall. Men came, searching, but left. Her eyes must have been playing tricks on her... They must have been, because it wasn't the skinny and small boy anymore that stepped away from a hiding spot, but a man that looked strong and handsome, his thick locks hanging around a chiseled face. This couldn't be possible. I.... How... How did you do that? She whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to make sense of it all.