I love it when he fills my ass and calls me his whore while he fucks me hard 😻😏

I’ve spent the last eight years in Miami, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that living here has its perks. And I’m not just talking about the beaches and the nightlife. This is where I met a man who drove me insane—a Dominican guy, tall, with dark, intense eyes that stripped me naked with a single look. But when he gets going, he turns into a complete animal.

It started at a club in Little Havana. I was out with my girls, wearing a tight red dress that hugged every curve and heels that made me walk like I owned the world. He was at the bar with his friends, but his eyes were locked on me. They weren’t shy glances, no. These were looks that promised things, that said, “I already know what you like, and I’m going to give it to you.” I went over to order a drink, and without a single word, he leaned in and growled in my ear with that rough, commanding voice that makes your skin prickle, “That dress is begging to be torn off you.” I laughed, but inside, I was already shaking.

That same night, in his apartment with a view of the city lights, he proved it wasn’t just talk. The second the door closed, he pinned me against it and kissed me with a hunger that stole my breath. His hands were already all over me, sliding up my thighs until he found nothing underneath my dress. “That’s my girl, you fucking whore,” he whispered, biting my neck. And instead of being offended, I got soaking wet. Because that word in his mouth wasn’t an insult; it was a compliment. It was permission to be my true self—the slut I keep hidden inside.

He led me to the bed not with romance, but with pure, raw urgency. He bent me over, face down, and lifted my hips, leaving my ass completely exposed. The first thing I felt was his tongue, tracing a hot path down my spine before diving without warning between my cheeks. I screamed into the mattress because no one had ever done it with that much devotion. He licked, sucked, and nibbled like he was feasting on the most exquisite thing he’d ever tasted. I was already lost, moaning and pushing my ass back against his face, begging for more.

“This pussy is soaked, but I know where you really want it, don’t you, my whore?” he said, and without waiting for an answer, he spit directly onto my asshole. The sound of his saliva hitting my skin turned me on more than any foreplay ever could. He used one hand to spread me open and the other to guide the head of his cock, which was huge and throbbing against my skin. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. “You’re gonna scream my name when I fill up this tight ass, you damn slut.”

And I did. When he started pushing in, I felt myself tearing open, but it was a delicious pain, the kind I’d always been searching for. He wasn’t gentle, and he wasn’t slow. He set the pace—dominant, possessive. Every thrust was a conquest. I was moaning like a madwoman, my face buried in the sheets, gripping the headboard for dear life. “Tell me what you are,” he ordered, spanking me so hard his handprint stayed on my skin. “I’m your whore,” I gasped, unable to stop myself. “I’m your good little whore.”

That drove him wild. He shifted his angle and started fucking me even faster, even deeper. I could feel him filling me up completely, every inch of his cock stretching me open. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back, forcing me to watch us in the mirror facing the bed. “Look at yourself,” he grunted, his breath hot on my neck. “Look at how much you love getting your ass fucked like the dirty bitch you are.” And it was true. I saw myself with glassy eyes, my mouth hanging open, my body slick with sweat, and it turned me on to see myself so submissive, so used, so completely his.

I couldn’t hold on much longer. The orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, shaking me apart, making me convulse without control. He felt it and growled, gripping my hips tighter as he pumped into me faster, until he finally let out a deep, guttural moan and I felt his heat flooding my insides. He came in what felt like endless pulses, filling me up until it started dripping down my thighs.

We stayed like that for a moment, panting, stuck together, without any words. When he finally pulled out, he gave my ass a sharp little slap and said, “That’s my good girl. My personal fucking whore.” And I knew right then that this wasn’t just a one-night thing. This was the start of something much more intense. Because when a man takes your ass and calls you his whore with that perfect mix of contempt and worship, it stays with you. Or maybe, it stays in you.