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I can envision the glistening black spike of my heat and life easing past that porcelain entrance, opening parts of her left untouched for far too long and wrapping me in what feels like cold velvet. The next move of my hips is sharper, harder, causing her to dig her nails into my shoulders and cry out softly as I begin to bury myself past the meager resistance I feel within her.
For the first time in years, she has life inside her. Hot, hard and messy as it is fed deeper and deeper past those widely stretched and straining lips. She writhes and undulates like a silky serpent upon me, even as her nails rake shallow furrows over my flesh, releasing new trails of red down my front. I’m not going to last long. It’s been weeks and I’m only flesh and blood after all. She seems to know just how to move, just how to stroke her body back and forth over my sensitive flesh, using her depths like a soft sleeve to coax me onward. I can feel her growing warmer inside, leeching my own heat and growing increasingly slick from the steady trickle of pre I’m leaving within her. There has been so very much buildup to this moment that I don’t believe any male could possibly hold out long. Besides, there was more, so much waiting for her as she relentlessly shifts against me, showing me what it’s like to experience this with someone who isn’t screaming for mercy. Somehow… it makes me feel dirty.
I cum with a roaring shout, met with her own cry as I shove myself against her in as brutally firm a fashion as I can manage while still bound. She clings to me as if drowning as I feel every inch of my maleness wrapped with her increasingly warm inner walls. My shaft throbs and jerks, causing her to gasp at the feel of me swelling even further inside of her.