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Pearl Necklace (pt. 2)

Real men give pearls!
A pearl necklace? I’ve known this man for a few weeks and he already wants to give me expensive jewellery? This makes no sense . My inner-self and I are completely confused.

Seeing the confusion on my face, Jason adds, “It’s a sexual pearl necklace. Don’t worry, I’ll show you.” With that, he shifts his hips and lifts me off him slightly. More proof of his extreme fitness. He reaches into the space now created as I’m no longer on him and pulls out his cock. How could I have missed the monster I had been sitting on this entire time! Goodness, I was so into what he was doing to me that I completely forgot that all of this was making him hard as rock.

It’s easily eight inches long, perhaps more. At least three inches around and solid as a pole. If I was afraid of losing my virginity to his two fingers, you can bet I was terrified of the damage his cock could do to me. It would split me in half for sure. I’d be sore for weeks, if not months!

As I tear my eyes from the monster he’s unleashed from his pants, I look up to find Jason looking straight at me. Obviously, he’s pleased with the reaction he’s gotten out of me. He starts to jerk his cock a few strokes. Then he lets it go and it bounces to rest on my stomach. I look down and see that it’s oozing pre-cum, which is now connecting with my bellybutton where it’s contently lying.

As I make a move to end our straddling-session, Jason grabs my right hand, saying, “Oh no you don’t!” He moves my hand to his cock and says, “Move it up and down; make me happy. When you get to the top, give it a light squeeze.”

I do as I’m told, watching as he seems to grow even harder at my touch. When I squeeze at the top, that’s when more pre-cum emerges from his slit. It’s slowly cascading down to my hand, almost coming to thank me for releasing it from its sexual prison. I don’t want it on me, so I move my hand back down.

Seeing that I don’t intend to bring my hand back up, Jason grabs my hand and begins to move it up and down slowly. As he’s doing this, he says, “Yalina, look at me. This is the stuff real pearls are made of, and don’t you ever forget it.” With that said, he quickens his pace, never taking his eyes off mine. I have to place my left hand on his chest to maintain my balance, as his movements have me riding him. As he sees he’s nearing to release, he stops on a down pull to catch his breath, not wanting to cum too quickly.

He pulls my right hand off his rigid cock and up to the pillow where his head is resting, making me lie down on him again. He uses this motion to pull me into an intense kiss, one I hadn’t realized I had been yearning for. My lips open to receive his extended tongue, unable to resist this intimacy I’ve come to welcome and enjoy. His kisses I can handle; his kisses won’t hurt me. Our tongues dance like they’re on fire. Removing one from the other may cause WW III. We kiss for a few more minutes, but I have to pull away slightly to catch my breath. Our eyes make four, and I give him a quick peck on his lips.

With a swift motion, he’s flipped me over so I’m now on my back and he’s lying on me between my legs. His hand snakes between us and his fingers find my treasured area again in my jeans. In go his two fingers again, quicker than my mind can register that I should try to shut my legs. He’s moving in and out, and again the unwelcome pressure is there. I look up at him and shake my head no. He brings his head up to my ear and whispers, “How many times do I have to tell you you’re mine?!” With that he sticks his tongue into my ear again and pushes his fingers a bit deeper. Our bodies shift upward together: me trying to run from him; him trying not to lose the connection. He hasn’t broken the hymen, but it damn well feels that way.

He leans off of me, fingers still inside, and looks down at me and our scene. His cock is still as stiff as a metal pole and I notice I now have pre-cum all over my lower stomach and the front of my jeans. I guess it had been stuck in between us this whole time. He’s still moving his fingers inside of me extremely slowly. I guess my body has gotten used to the intrusion as it’s no longer extreme pressure, just slight pressure, to make the presence of his fingers known.

He notices the mess on my jeans and asks, “Are you sure you don’t want to take these off?” He tugs at the button that closes above the zipper.

Knowing that my last bit of clothing may be the difference between my leaving this place still a virgin and my complete surrender, I reply, “It’s all I have left.” With that he removes his fingers from my panties, that’s when he notices the baby blue La Vie En Rose boyshorts I have on. “Very nice,” he says, running a finger along the elastic.

I think he’s finally had enough of me as we’re no longer connected in any way. But then he puts the two fingers that were inside of me onto his cock and begins to wipe my lady-juices all over himself, blending our two fluids into one smooth one. I can’t believe him. He proceeds to put his hands onto the waist of his sweatpants and starts pulling them down. Inch by inch, more of his glorious thighs and tight ass come into view. He’s pulled off his Calvin Klein boxers at the same time so he’s naked in front of me. He’s naked in front of you! My inner-self notes. Holy shit!

As I’m enjoying his slow strip show, I realize he’s still between my legs. I guess that’s just in case he moves and my legs clamp shut to end his progress. I don’t blame his caution. He’s lying on me again slightly as he needs to lift his knees off the bed to fully remove the pants. While close to me, he kisses me to remind me why we are doing what we’re doing. With every last shred of fabric off his body, he kneels between my legs again and begins to stroke his monster cock with his left hand. His right hand comes up to squeeze my breasts and he lets out a long sigh.

I don’t dare move. I’ll let him get his pleasures out and maybe he’ll be too winded to complete this mystical ‘pearl necklace’. He’s squeezing me and stroking himself, a mission clearly taking place on his face. Then he moves his whole body up my body until he’s lightly sitting just below my breasts on my ribs, most of his weight resting on his knees as not to hurt me. I place my hands on his abs as his cock seems to be coming for my face. He removes my hands and pins them to each side of my head. He’s holding my hands down while his cock nestles between my breasts. Then he starts to move his hips back and forth, his cock moving back and forth between my precious tits. He’s found a rhythm that he’s enjoying. I watch in horror as more pre-cum gets painted onto the top of my chest and between my breasts on his strokes, coating me with his man-made lubrication. His cock continues to get closer and closer to my face as he gets more into it. I turn my face, not wanting it to accidently slip between my lips. Now that he’s so far up, the tip is actually reaching my neck on his pushes. It feels so odd, but I can tell he’s really into it. Safer to keep it up here than down there. My inner-self notes.

Suddenly, he stops his riding of my chest (titty-fucking, I later learn) and starts to stroke his cock furiously. I think he’s mad with me or that I’ve done something wrong. “Yalina, I can’t hold back any longer. I’m cumming baby. Ready for your pearls?!” And with that his cum comes flying out of his slit. He has his cock positioned so that it’s aimed at my neck. Rope after sticky, thick rope lands on my chocolate-porcelain skin. Pools of cum connected by ropes. Looking down at my chest, I see why it’s called a ‘pearl necklace’, and I’ll definitely cherish this new sensational gift. At least seven or eight ropes have landed on me. I’ve watched porn before and this definitely looked like something out of the movies.

As he finishes squirting on me, the last of it lands between my ample breasts, like he’s trying to outline a path for next time. This little bit he rubs in like lotion. He then takes his cum-covered fingers and sticks them into my mouth. Again, my body reacts by sucking his fingers like his cum is the cure for diabetes. It’s salty, yet unlike anything I’ve ever tasted. Makes me wonder ...

He notices my reaction wasn’t to pull away or curse at him. Mental note taken for next time. Jason then leans down and kisses me tenderly, like I’ve just saved his life. No words of gratitude are needed as I know he appreciates what I’ve just gone through for him. As traumatizing as it was for a virgin, it was an experience of a lifetime, one I’m glad I didn’t pass up.

Jason trails kisses from my lips down my neck, and back up to my ear, where he whispers, “And that, my dear, are the pearls that real men give.”

(Thank you for reading ... feel free to comment!)

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