She walked into the bar like she owned the place, short skirt riding high on her thighs, no bra under that tight tank top. I bought her a drink, we talked shit for ten minutes, and then she leaned in and said, "My place. Now."
We barely made it through her door before she had my cock in her hand, stroking it hard and fast. "Fuck, you're thick," she muttered, dropping to her knees right there on the hallway floor. Her mouth was hot and wet, taking me deep, tongue swirling around the head while she sucked like she wanted every drop. I grabbed her hair and fucked her face, hips pumping, balls slapping her chin. She gagged but didn't pull back, spit running down her chin onto her tits.
"Get up," I growled. I spun her around, bent her over the couch, yanked that skirt up. No panties. Her pussy was already dripping. I slammed into her in one thrust, burying myself balls-deep. She moaned loud, pushing back to meet every stroke. "Harder, fuck me harder," she demanded. I pounded her, skin slapping, her juices coating my shaft. Every time I pulled out I could see how slick she was, then drove back in, hitting her cervix.
We moved to the bedroom, her riding me next. She ground down, clit rubbing against me, tits bouncing. "Fill me up," she said, eyes locked on mine. I flipped her onto her back, legs over my shoulders, and fucked her deep and fast. Her cunt clenched around me when she came, pulsing, pulling me in. I didn't pull out.
I shot my load inside her, thick ropes pumping deep while she kept grinding, milking every spurt.
We went again in the shower, her bent against the tiles, water running over us. I fingered her ass while I fucked her pussy, then switched, stretching her tight hole with my cock. She came again, screaming, and I unloaded a second time, this load going straight up her ass.
A week later the burning started when I pissed. It got worse. Discharge, that tell-tale itch. I went to the clinic. Chlamydia. Positive. I knew it was her. No one else. She had given it to me during those raw, bareback fucks, her wet pussy taking every drop of my cum while she passed it right back.
I texted her. She didn't deny it. Instead she sent a photo of her own test results and a message: "Come over. Let's do it again." I went. The sex was even filthier now that we both knew. She rode my cock while whispering how she wanted to give me more, how she loved feeling that load knowing what it carried. I came inside her twice, hard and deep, the risk only making it hotter. We kept going all night, dirty talk about who else she had fucked, who I might pass it to. Every thrust felt more intense, more forbidden.
By morning my balls ached from how many times I had emptied them into her. She smiled, cum leaking down her thighs, and said, "Same time next week?" I already knew the answer was yes. The infection was mine now, and the way she gave it to me made every raw fuck worth it.
