Into The Arena Read Online Free Page B

laid on, striping the girl from shoulders to thighs. Amanda was louder than the previous loser and her wails and screams were plainly audible. It was music to Tara's ears and she gripped Conor's shaft fiercely as the writhings became slowly more sensuous and the screams became groans. Conor's fingers tormented her and by the time the whipping was over she knew she was perilously near an orgasm. She wasn't the only one she realised suddenly. All around her female hands had been slipped inside flies and were working on rigid cocks. At one or two tables, men sat back and women knelt before them, their heads bobbing up and down busily. It was too much for Tara, she had to get away.
    "The next one's a whip duel. Want to stay?" Conor whispered.
    "No, I.......let's go!"
    They hurried upstairs ignoring the knowing smirk of the desk clerk. As soon as the bedroom door was closed, Tara began desperately tearing at Conor's clothes, all the long day's excitements now focused on a greater need in her vagina than she had ever experienced before. Conor lifted her skirt and with casual ease ripped her thong straps, yanking the tiny gusset away from her open and lubricated lips. She almost came when she felt him tear the meagre covering so easily and had to lean on him for support. But at last she had got his belt and flies undone and pulled down his pants. She looked down in awe at what her hands held. The massive plum coloured helm and its vein ridged shaft thrust up from his thick thatch of hair. Her fingers could hardly encircle it and trailed over the slit which was already exuding pearls of pre-ejaculate. It was by far the biggest member she had ever encountered.
    "Oh Christ!" she murmured. "Oh yes!" She could feel her vagina clench and exude another flood of juice at the prospect of this monster stretching her labia and spearing up into her.
    But suddenly his hand was clenched hard in her hair and her head was wrenched back so that she had to stare up into his eyes. His face was set and stern. She felt an iron hardness in his nature beneath the casual, humorous self-confidence of the exterior. Tara thrilled with apprehension at the thought of being alone with this extraordinary man.
    "Now we shag till one of us can't go on. Right Tara?" he whispered fiercely. Again she felt as if she was stepping into a void and joyfully abandoned herself.
    "Yes, till one of us begs for mercy," she whispered back.
    They didn't make love. Not one kiss was exchanged that Tara could ever remember. It was simply her body versus his. The resilience of her vagina against the ferocity of his cock, the strength of her sex-drive against his endurance.
    Their first coupling, with him standing and she riding his shaft - legs wrapped tight around his hips, resulted in an earth-shattering, blinding orgasm for her as she let her weight grind her down onto the most divine penis her body had ever played host to. But he didn't come, and when she had finished writhing and moaning he lifted her off and threw her hard down onto the bed, on her back. Then he lowered his powerful body down onto her and she relished his weight, crushing her, pinning her down as he penetrated her contracted vagina. She groaned at the deliciously remorseless way his shaft lanced and stretched her, inch by inch. She was bucking her hips up at him urgently even before he was fully in, her nails raking his back, greedy for another orgasm of the sort she had always dreamed about but had never achieved before this night.
    And when his hard, pelvis-slapping thrusts began to batter her, she clenched every internal muscle she could, determined to milk those huge balls this time. Again and again he rammed her, shaking her like a rag doll but she clung onto him inside and when the world exploded in her head and she heard herself screaming in ecstasy, she was rewarded with the feel of his hot jets of sperm flooding the very neck of her womb.
    But that was just the first skirmish in a war of attrition.
    For