Chapter 56 : Intense Afternoon at the Parkers'
New York, Queens – Alex's POV
I stepped into the living room, the low lamplight wrapping the space in a warm, muted glow. May was already there, curled up on the couch with a soft throw over her legs. She looked up as I entered, the corner of her mouth lifting in that quiet, knowing way that always made something tighten low in my gut.
"Everything is ready ?" she asked, her voice smooth—almost inviting without meaning to be.
"Yes," I replied, keeping my tone even. Controlled. "Peter and Wendy are playing. Everything's stable. So I figured I'd step out for a bit."
May set her mug down, her fingers lingering on the rim for a moment before she leaned slightly toward me. Her hand reached out, brushing against my arm with a soft, deliberate touch that sent a quiet shiver through me. "You always look so composed," she murmured, her voice low and warm, like a secret meant only for us. "Like nothing ever shakes you."
I gave a faint, measured smile, feeling the weight of her hand on my arm, the heat of it seeping through my sleeve. "Most things don't."
"But something does," she said gently, her thumb grazing my forearm in a way that felt far from accidental. "Sometimes." Her eyes held mine, and in the quiet between us, it was clear she wasn't just talking about composure anymore.
I paused. Her gaze held mine — steady, curious, undeniably warm — and I felt the shift in the air between us, subtle but unmistakable. The kind of shift I'd been trying not to acknowledge for weeks.
I sat at the far end of the couch, leaving a polite stretch of space between us. Not far enough to escape the heat of her eyes.
She noticed. Of course she noticed.
"You don't have to sit so formally, you know," she said. Her tone was light, teasing, but there was an undercurrent beneath it — not hidden, just… restrained. "I don't bite."
I exhaled slowly. "I'm aware."
"Then relax," she said, nudging my knee with hers. "You're safe here. With me."
That small touch — innocent enough — sent a quiet jolt through me. I didn't move away.
Her lips curved into a knowing smile, her gaze lingering on me with an intensity that made my pulse quicken. "You look like you're carrying the weight of the world on those shoulders," she said, her voice soft but laced with something more deliberate. "You need someone to help you unload that burden."
I held her gaze, my expression steady despite the way her words coiled low in my stomach. "I manage," I replied, my tone measured but not dismissive.
"No one should have to manage alone," she murmured, leaning slightly closer, the warmth of her presence impossible to ignore. Her hand brushed against my arm again, this time with a firmer touch, as if testing the boundary between casual and something else entirely. "Sometimes, it's better to let someone else take a little weight off."
The air between us thickened, every word laced with an unspoken invitation. I didn't pull away, but I didn't move closer either. The restraint was there, still holding, though it felt like it was fraying at the edges with every breath she took.
There was no accusation in her voice. Just warmth. Familiarity. Interest she wasn't trying to hide anymore.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was warm. Heavy. Electric.
May shifted closer — just enough that I could feel her presence fully now, her knee brushing mine again. She didn't touch me otherwise. She didn't need to.
Her eyes dipped briefly to my mouth before rising to meet mine again.
"Alex," she said slowly, her voice low and warm, almost tentative. "If there's something you want… you can take me."
Her words lingered, heavy, and I caught the faint blush spreading up her neck. She paused, lips parting as if to take it back, but the unspoken tension held her there. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw it—embarrassment, yes, but also something hotter, something that made my pulse quicken.
Then she softened, her voice barely above a whisper. "…Tell me," she corrected, a small, nervous laugh trailing after. It wasn't just a laugh; it was an admission. Her hand brushed my arm again, her fingers tightening slightly, as if grounding us both in the heat of the moment.
The slip wasn't lost on either of us. It lingered there between us, a crack in the careful restraint we'd both been holding onto. And in that crack, something shifted. Something dangerously close to falling.
Her breath hitched, a soft sound that seemed to echo in the quiet room. I didn't hesitate. I closed the distance between us, my hand sliding to the curve of her waist, pulling her toward me. Her body responded instantly, leaning into the touch, her warmth seeping through the thin fabric of her clothes.
May's lips parted slightly, her chest rising and falling with a rhythm that mirrored the quickening of my own pulse. Her eyes darkened, the faint blush on her cheeks deepening as she let out a shuddering exhale. "Alex…" she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.
My fingers traced the line of her jaw, tilting her face up to mine. She melted into the touch, her skin flushing under my hand. Her breath was warm against my skin, and I could feel the way her body tensed—not in resistance, but in anticipation. Her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt, anchoring herself to me as if she was afraid I might pull away.
But I wouldn't. Not now.
Her heart was racing, I could feel it where my hand rested against her side, and the sound of her soft, uneven breaths filled the space between us. Her eyes searched mine, wide and expectant, and for a moment, she seemed to hold her breath entirely, waiting.
"I've thought about this," she admitted suddenly, her voice low and husky, as if the words had been waiting, too. Her gaze softened, almost vulnerable, but there was no doubt in it. "More than I should have."
Her confession hung in the air between us, and I felt something primal stir within me. My fingers tightened on her waist, pulling her closer still, until there was no space left between us. Her breath caught again, and she let out a small, desperate sound that sent a jolt of heat straight through me.
She wanted this. Needed it. And so did I.
New York, Queens – 3rd's POV
The space between their mouths vanished. It wasn't a gentle meeting but a collision of week of pent-up tension, a raw, hungry connection that shattered the last vestiges of restraint. Alex's hand, still on her jaw, slid into her soft brown hair, holding her to him as his other arm wrapped around her waist, crushing her against the hard line of his body. May moaned into his mouth, a sound of pure, unadulterated relief, her hands fisting in his shirt as she kissed him back with a desperate intensity that matched his own.
His tongue slid against hers, tasting the faint, sweet hint of her coffee, and a deeper, more intimate flavor that was just her. The kiss was a conversation of its own, a frantic, wet exchange of everything they hadn't dared to say. May's hips pressed into his, a deliberate, seeking motion, and he groaned, the sound swallowed by her mouth. He could feel the frantic thrum of her heart against his chest, a wild drumbeat echoing his own.
He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged. "May," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly thing he barely recognized. His lips traced the line of her jaw, down the graceful column of her throat, tasting the salt of her skin. She tipped her head back with a gasp, offering herself, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
"Alex…" His name was a prayer on her lips.
A sudden, sharp sound from down the hall—Peter's voice, loud and gleeful—cut through the heavy stillness. "Congratulations, Wendy! You did it!" His words rang out, bright and uncontained, slicing through the warm, hazy bubble of the living room like a knife. The real world, with its consequences and boundaries, crashed back in, raw and unyielding. Alex froze, his breath catching in his throat, while May's body tensed against his, her wide eyes locking onto his with a mixture of alarm and something deeper—regret, maybe, or fear. The moment shattered, leaving them suspended in the weight of what they'd almost done.
Alex's body went rigid. May's eyes flew open, wide with a mix of panic and unspent desire. For a long, suspended second, they listened, pressed together in the lamplight, two statues caught in a forbidden act. Silence. Then, the muffled sound of video game music filtered through the walls.
The danger, instead of cooling their arousal, electrified it. The risk was a drug, sharpening every sensation. Alex's gaze locked with May's. Her expression was no longer just wanton; it was daring. Taunting. It was the final permission he needed.
In one fluid, powerful motion, he shifted them. He turned her, his front to her back, his chest pressing against her shoulder blades. His arms circled her, one hand splaying across her stomach, pulling her snug against the undeniable, hard ridge of his erection straining against his jeans. The other hand came up, his fingers gently covering her mouth. A silent command. A necessary secret.
"Shhh," he breathed into her ear, his voice a hot, promising whisper that made her shudder violently against him. "We have to be quiet, May. So quiet for me."
She nodded against his palm, a frantic little motion. He could feel the damp heat of her breath against his skin. He nuzzled the nape of her neck, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and the rising, musky scent of her arousal. His hands worked with a swift, urgent efficiency. The button of her jeans popped open. The zipper hissed down. He pushed the soft denim and her simple cotton underwear down over the swell of her hips, down her thighs, just far enough. The cool air of the room kissed her exposed skin, and she flinched, then pushed back against him, a silent plea.
He freed himself from his own confines, his huge cockspringing free, thick and painfully hard. The broad, flushed head nudged against the damp cleft of her ass, and he felt her jump at the contact, a muffled whimper escaping his fingers. He reached between them, his fingers sliding through her slick folds, finding her entrance already wet and hot and ready. So ready. He circled it, coating himself in her essence, a low growl rumbling in his chest at the feel of her.
"You're so fucking wet for me," he whispered, the words vulgar and necessary. "All this for me, May?"
She could only nod again, her body trembling. He guided himself to her entrance, the tip pressing against her yielding flesh. He pushed, just an inch, a slow, initial stretch that made her gasp into his hand, her inner muscles fluttering wildly around the intrusion. She was tight, unimaginably tight, a silken, possessive heat that threatened to undo him immediately.
"Fuck," he grunted, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as he fought for control. He pushed deeper, another inch, the thick girth of him stretching her open in a way she clearly hadn't felt in years, maybe ever. His hand tightened over her mouth, stifling her cry. From the hallway, the video game music swelled, a bizarre soundtrack to their illicit coupling.
He began to move, shallow thrusts at first, each one sinking deeper than the last. The resistance of her tightness was almost unbearable, a velvet vise that threatened to unravel him with every inch he gained. His grip on her stomach held her steady, his other hand a firm, silencing seal over her lips. Her muffled whimpers vibrated against his palm, each sound a delicious reminder of how much she wanted this—how much she needed him. Her hips rocked back instinctively, seeking more, urging him deeper, and he obliged with a low growl of approval.
His pace increased gradually, each powerful drive of his hips burying his entire monstrous length inside her with a wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin. The sound was obscene, a symphony of their forbidden connection, punctuated by the faint hum of the video game music drifting from Peter's room. May's body shook under the force of his thrusts, her hands clawing behind her, grasping futilely at air before finally finding purchase on his thighs. She squeezed hard, her nails digging into the firm muscle there, as if she could anchor herself against the tidal wave of pleasure crashing over her.
He felt every incredible inch of her cunt milking his cock, her inner walls fluttering and clenching around him in a rhythm that mirrored his own. Her arousal drenched him, slick and hot, the evidence of her desire leaking down her trembling thighs. Her muffled moans grew more desperate, vibrating against his palm like a siren's call. She was close. He could feel it in the way her body tensed, in the way her breath hitched sharply against his hand. The coil of her orgasm tightened around him like a fist, threatening to snap at any moment.
His own climax loomed dangerously close, a tempest gathering in the base of his spine, spreading heat through his veins like wildfire. He drove into her with abandon now, deep and hard, his rhythm becoming erratic and possessive. His free hand slid up from her stomach to cup one of her breasts, his fingers pinching and rolling a taut nipple through the thin fabric of her sweater. She jerked against him, a silent scream caught behind his hand, her body shuddering violently as the first tremors of her climax began to ripple through her.
"That's it, May," he growled against her ear, his voice rough and dripping with raw need. "Let go. Come for me." Her body obeyed instantly, convulsing around him in waves of ecstasy so intense he almost lost control himself. Her inner walls clamped down on him like a vice, milking his cock with brutal efficiency, and he groaned deeply, the sound muffled by her hair. She was so tight, so perfect.
But he wasn't done. Not yet. As her orgasm began to subside, he didn't stop. He couldn't. His thrusts grew even harder, even deeper, chasing his own release with a primal urgency. The weight of his cock inside her stretched her deliciously, each drive pushing her closer and closer to another peak. He was relentless, his movements now a furious rhythm that left no doubt about his intentions—he was going to claim her, completely and utterly, and nothing would stop him.
"I'm gonna fill you up, May," he rasped, his voice raw with need. "Gonna pump my fucking seed so deep inside you. You want that? You want me to come inside this tight, perfect pussy?"
Her answering shudder was violent. She convulsed around him, her silent scream hot against his hand as her orgasm ripped through her, her inner walls spasming around his shaft in waves of intense pleasure. The feeling of her climax clamping down on him was the final trigger. With a guttural groan he stifled against her hair, he plunged as deep as he could possibly go and let go.
The first jet of cum was a powerful, scalding flood that erupted directly into her depths. May's body jerked against his, a second, surprise orgasm seizing her at the shocking, intimate heat of his release. Rope after thick, voluminous rope followed, painting her insides white, a seemingly endless torrent of his fertile seed. It flooded her channel, a copious, glue-like spill that seeped past where their bodies were joined, coating his balls and her thighs. The room filled with the sounds of their ragged breathing and the wet, sloshing noise of his continued, pumping ejaculation.
Inside her, the miracle began. His supernatural sperm, each cell vibrating with potential, ignored the typical biological constraints of her cycle. They triggered an immediate, forceful ovulation from her right ovary. A single, ripe egg was released, traveling with unnatural speed down the fallopian tube as his millions of swimmers surged upward, an eager army navigating her cervical canal with preternatural purpose. They swarmed the egg, a single champion piercing its membrane in a microscopic explosion of new life, the conception instantaneous and absolute. A wave of transcendent, cellular pleasure, far deeper than her physical orgasm, radiated from her newly pregnant womb, and her eyes rolled back in her head, her body going utterly limp against his, held up only by his strong arms.
The last pulses of his orgasm subsided. He stayed buried inside her, both of them dripping and panting in the aftermath. He slowly, reluctantly, removed his hand from her mouth. She drew in a huge, ragged gasp of air.
"Alex…" she breathed, her voice wrecked, trembling. "My God… what was…" She couldn't finish, her mind reeling from the physical and inexplicable emotional shift that had blossomed deep within her core.
He nuzzled her neck, his own body humming with a profound, primal satisfaction. He was still deep inside her, still semi-hard, his come still leaking out around the edges. The risk was still there. Peter was still just down the hall.
And Alex was far from finished. He shifted his weight, his cock stirring inside her sensitized, overfilled channel. May gasped, a fresh jolt of surprised pleasure shooting through her.
"Shhh," he whispered again, a dark promise in his tone. "We're not done. I'm not nearly done with you yet.
The silence in the hallway was a fragile eggshell beneath their feet. Alex guided her with a firm hand on the small of her back, his other arm hooked under her knees, carrying her the short distance to her bedroom. Her head rested against his shoulder, her breath still coming in soft, hitching gusts against his neck. The creak of the door opening sounded like a gunshot in the hushed apartment.
He shouldered it closed behind them, the soft click of the latch engaging sounding like a vault door sealing them in their own private world. He didn't set her down gently. He laid her on the bed with a purposeful gravity, her body sinking into the comforter. The lamplight from the living room was gone, replaced by the deep blue twilight filtering through the window, painting her skin in shades of silver and shadow.
Her eyes were wide, locked on his, reflecting the dim light and a bottomless, rekindled hunger. The scent of their first coupling—musky, intimate, theirs—still clung to their naked skin, mingling with the charged air around them. Alex stood at the edge of the bed, a dark silhouette of pure, unrelenting lust. His gaze burned into her, his body still thrumming with the raw energy of what they had just shared, and what was yet to come. The stillness between them was electric, a silent promise that their connection was far from over.
His cock, still slick from her, stood out thick and formidable against his stomach, a testament to the fact he was far from spent.
"Take off your sweater, May," he commanded, his voice low and rough with promise.
Her fingers, trembling slightly, obeyed. She pulled the soft knit over her head, revealing a simple, lace-trimmed bra. Her breasts were full, the nipples hard peaks pressing against the fabric. He drank in the sight, a low sound of approval rumbling in his chest. He didn't wait for more. He climbed onto the bed, his knees bracketing her hips, and leaned down to capture her mouth in a searing, possessive kiss. It was all tongue and teeth and shared, frantic breath. One of his hands tangled in her hair, holding her in place, while the other roamed down her side, over the curve of her waist, to the waistband of her jeans.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, over the trembling swell of her breasts. He mouthed one lace-covered nipple through the fabric, sucking hard, and she cried out, her back arching off the bed. "Alex!"
"Quiet," he reminded her, the word a hot whisper against her damp skin. He hooked his fingers into her jeans and the soaked cotton of her ruined panties beneath. "Lift your hips." She did, a desperate, willing participant, and he peeled the denim down her legs in one swift, ruthless motion, tossing them to the floor to join his own. He left her completely bare from the waist down, her glistening cunt exposed to the cool air and his heated gaze.
He shifted his weight, his hands gripping her thighs. "Now, pull your knees up," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Bring them to your chest. I want you open for me. Wide open."
A fresh wave of arousal, hot and liquid, flooded her at his dominant tone. She obeyed, bending her knees and drawing them upward, spreading herself for him in a gesture of utter submission. The vulnerable, offering position made her heart hammer against her ribs.
"Good girl," he murmured, and the compliment sent a shiver down her spine. He shifted, readjusting himself. He slid his arms under her knees, his powerful biceps supporting her legs, and she understood. She tucked her chin in, tilting her head forward, and he placed his forearms behind her neck, his hands clacking together. She was completely captive, immobilized in a deep, exposed position, her world reduced to the man above her and the painful emptiness between her legs.
The broad, round head of his penis found its way in again, forcing its way between her wet lips. She was still stretched by her first lover, but its impressive size promised a new and breathtaking fullness. He didn't ask. He pushed.
Oh god. Her eyes squeezed shut. The initial stretch was a breathtaking burn, a delicious, impossible filling that stole the air from her lungs. He was thicker now, harder, a relentless intrusion of heated flesh. Her inner walls, still fluttering from her recent orgasms, were forced to accommodate him anew, stretching taut around his invading girth. He sank deeper, inch by torturously wonderful inch, until his pelvis was flush against her ass, his balls resting heavily against her skin. He was buried to the hilt, and she could feel every throbbing vein, every ridge of him, imprinted on her sensitive inner flesh.
"Fuck, May," he grunted, the muscles in his arms straining as he held her locked in position. "You feel that? You feel how deep I am inside you? My cock is so deep in your perfect little cunt."
She could only whimper, a high, needy sound, as he began to move—a slow, deliberate withdrawal that made her inner muscles clench desperately, followed by a powerful, piston-like thrust that buried him to the hilt once more. Splutch. The wet, obscene sound of their joining filled the quiet room, each drive a masterstroke that left her gasping.
"You feel that, May?" he murmured, his voice gravelly and low, dripping with possession. "Feel how deep I go? Like I belong here, inside you." He thrust again, harder this time, the slap of flesh echoing. "My cock stretching you wide" he growled, the words filthy and forbidden, sending a jolt of shame and arousal coursing through her veins.
Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as he drove into her deeper, faster. "You know I shouldn't be doing this," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear, his tone dark and commanding. "I have a girlfriend, May. But look at you—desperate for me, taking every inch like it's all you've ever wanted."
Each word was a searing brand, each thrust a punishment and a reward. "You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his hips snapping forward with brutal precision. "Taking my cock like a champ, even though you know it's wrong. Dirty. Forbidden."
"I know it's wrong," she gasped, her voice strained and breathless as his cock drove into her with unrelenting force. "You have a girlfriend… and I… oh god, I could be your mother…" Her words were punctuated by desperate moans, her body trembling beneath his relentless rhythm. But even as the shame of their forbidden act burned in her chest, her hips arched into his thrusts, betraying her true desires. "But I want you inside me… I need you. I don't care how wrong it is… I just need you…"
Her confession was a raw, unfiltered truth, ripped from the deepest part of her. The taboo of their connection only heightened the intensity, each word a reminder of the boundaries they had shattered. Alex growled low in his throat, his hands tightening on her thighs as if to hold her in place, to keep her from slipping away from the reality of what they were doing.
"You want me?" he rasped, his voice thick with both lust and challenge. "Even though you know this is fucked up? You still want me buried deep inside this tight little cunt of yours?"
She whimpered, her head thrashing against the mattress, her inner walls clenching around him in a visceral response to his words. "Yes," she breathed, her voice trembling but resolute. "Yes, Alex. I want you. I want all of you. I don't care about anything else right now… just you. Just this."
Her words seemed to ignite something deeper in him, something dark and possessive. He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "That's my girl. My dirty, perfect girl." His thrusts became harder, more deliberate, each one driving her closer to the edge of madness. "You're mine now," he murmured, his voice a dangerous promise. "Mine."
She cried out, her body trembling as he pounded into her, the angle perfect, the head of his cock grinding against that sweet spot that sent white-hot sparks exploding behind her eyelids. His voice was relentless, a cruel reminder of the taboo they were breaking, heightening the intensity of every stroke. "That's it," he rasped, his breath hot against her skin. "Take it, May. Take all of me. Forbidden. Filthy. Yours."
And she did, her world reduced to the sound of his voice, the feel of his body, and the overwhelming, exhilarating wrongness of it all.
He established a brutal, perfect rhythm. Withdraw. Splush. Thrust. Glrk. His body slammed into hers, the force of it shaking the bedframe. Her held-up legs began to tremble uncontrollably. The pleasure was a live wire, sizzling through her veins, coiling tight in her core. She was babbling, half-formed pleas and curses muffled by the position of her own chin against her chest.
"Please… Alex… more… fuck…"
His thrusts became faster, harder, more demanding. He was a machine of pure pleasure, chasing his own release and determined to drag her with him. The thick length of his cock pistoned in and out of her with relentless precision, each powerful drive lighting up every nerve in her body. The wet, squelching sound of their coupling filled the room, a lewd symphony that only fueled their primal urgency. Her legs, still held up by his strong hands, trembled violently with the intensity of it all. She felt owned, claimed in the most intimate way possible.
The pressure built inside her, a screaming tension that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. Her inner walls clenched around him involuntarily, as if trying to pull him even deeper, to keep him buried inside her forever. She felt her second climax coiling, a supernova waiting to explode. Every nerve in her body was on fire, every fiber of her being focused on the delicious friction of his massive cock filling her to the brim. She could feel the head of his shaft grinding against a sensitive spot deep within her that sent jolts of electricity racing up her spine.
"Alex… oh god, Alex…" she whimpered, her voice breaking. Her hands clawed at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor her as he drove her closer and closer to the edge. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each one mingling with his own labored breathing. The room was alive with the sounds of their passion— the slap of skin against skin, the guttural growls escaping his throat, the high-pitched whimpers she couldn't hold back. She was unraveling, piece by piece, under his relentless assault.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath hot and heavy. "You're taking me so well, May. So fucking well." The praise sent a jolt of pure heat straight to her core, and she cried out, her body arching off the bed. His grip on her legs tightened, keeping her exactly where he wanted her—spread open and utterly at his mercy. He quickened his pace even more, each thrust a declaration of his dominance, each withdrawal a cruel tease that left her aching for more.
Her vision blurred as the pressure inside her reached its peak. She was trembling uncontrollably now, her entire body wound tight like a spring ready to snap. She could feel it building, that glorious, inevitable eruption that would consume her completely. "I'm close… so close…" she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. Her chest heaved with the effort of breathing, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest.
And then, with one final, brutal thrust, he pushed her over the edge. Her scream was muffled by her own knees as her climax shattered through her like a tidal wave, obliterating everything in its path. Her cunt clamped down on his cock in rhythmic, desperate pulses, milking him as if trying to draw every last drop of his seed deep inside her.
"I'm gonna come inside you again, May," he rasped, his voice guttural, strained with the effort of holding back his own eruption. "Gonna flood that pretty pussy with my fucking seed. You want it? You want me to pump another load this deep?"
"Yes! God, yes!" she cried out, the words torn from her.
It was all the permission he needed. With a final, earth-shattering thrust that seemed to touch her very soul, he roared, a sound of pure, primal triumph, and emptied himself into her. The first jet was a scalding geyser, a flood of his potent, supernatural cum that triggered her own orgasm instantly. Her scream was muffled by her own knees as her body convulsed around him, her cunt milking his shaft in rhythmic, desperate pulses.
Alex continued to pump, jet after thick, voluminous jet, filling her beyond capacity. Warm, sticky rivulets of excess seed began to seep out around the base of his still-pulsing cock, dripping down to soak the comforter beneath them. He finally stilled, buried deep, his body shuddering with the aftershocks. He held her there, locked in his embrace, for a long moment, both of them panting, dripping, utterly spent and connected.
Slowly, carefully, he unclasped his hands from behind her neck, lowering her trembling legs. They fell to the bed, boneless. He stayed inside her, reluctant to break the connection, his weight resting on his forearms on either side of her head. He looked down at her, her face flushed, her eyes glazed with a mixture of shock and sated wonder.
A slow, dangerously possessive smile spread across his face. His cock, still semi-hard, gave a thick, promising twitch deep within her overstuffed, fertile womb.