Chapter 61 : First Meeting as a Concubine (Part 2)
New York, Queens – Alex's POV
Her body was still trembling beneath me, our sweat cooling in the sticky afternoon air. I stayed buried inside her, feeling the last aftershocks of her climax flutter around my softening cock. The room smelled of us—of sex, of her perfume, of my cum. I shifted my weight off her, and she made a soft, protesting sound in the back of her throat.
"Don't go," she mumbled into the pillow, her voice thick and drowsy.
"I'm not going anywhere," I said, rolling onto my side and pulling her against me. I traced the line of her spine with my fingertips, feeling the delicate bumps under her damp skin. "We're just getting started."
She turned her head to look at me, her eyes heavy-lidded and sated. "Started? Alex, I can't feel my legs."
I grinned, my hand sliding down to cup the perfect, round curve of her ass. "Then it's a good thing you won't need them for what I have in mind."
I gave her a light slap, the sound a sharp crack in the quiet room. She yelped, a fresh jolt of energy shooting through her, and I felt her pulse jump under my palm.
"Up on your hands and knees, May," I commanded, my voice leaving no room for debate. I gave her no time to hesitate, my hands gripping her hips and maneuvering her with a strength that always seemed to surprise her. She was so light, so easy to position exactly how I wanted her. Mine.
She complied, pushing herself up with a soft grunt, her beautiful ass presented to me like an offering. Her skin was flushed a deep pink from our earlier efforts. I ran my hand over one smooth cheek, then the other, admiring the view.
"Now, lift this leg for me," I said, my voice a low growl as I tapped her right thigh. "Up and out. Show me everything."
She obeyed, lifting her knee and planting her foot flat on the mattress, opening herself up obscenely wide. The Burning Man. From this angle, I could see everything—the swollen, glistening lips of her pussy, pink and used, still dripping with my last load. The tight, clenched star of her asshole. The way her inner muscles fluttered, anticipating me. Fuck.
I knelt behind her, lining my cock up again. It was already hardening, thicker and heavier than before, fueled by the sight of her complete submission. The broad head nudged against her slick entrance, and she gasped, pushing back against me instinctively.
"Easy, baby," I murmured, one hand splaying across the small of her back to hold her steady, the other guiding my dick. "We're gonna take this nice and slow. I want to feel every inch of you clenching around me."
I pushed in, just the tip, and paused. The stretch was exquisite for both of us. A choked sob escaped her. "Ohhh, God… it's so much…"
"It's exactly what you need," I corrected her, my voice rough against her ear as I leaned over her back. I began to thrust, shallow and slow, each movement a deliberate claiming. Squelch. Slip. Squelch. The wet sounds were lewd, beautiful music. Her tits swayed wildly beneath her with every rock of my hips, and I reached around to palm one, squeezing the soft, heavy weight, pinching her nipple until she cried out.
I set a brutal, deep rhythm, my hips pistoning, driving into her with a force that shook the entire bedframe. Thump. Thump. Thump. The headboard slammed a steady beat against the wall. I doubted any neighbor could mistake the sound for anything but what it was.
"What was that, May?" I whispered, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. My voice was a dark, intimate thing, meant only for her. "It sounds as if someone had just slammed the apartment door."
Her whole body went rigid around my cock. "W-what? No…"
"As if Peter were coming home sooner," I continued, my thrusts never faltering, each one punching a desperate gasp from her lungs. "What if he's walking up right now? What if he finds out you're mine now? That his sweet, innocent Aunt May loves getting railed by her neighbor, that she can't get enough of this cock."
She whimpered, her walls clamping down on me, and I felt her shudder as another wave of fear-fueled pleasure ripped through her. "Alex, please… don't say that…"
"Why not?" I growled, my breath hot against her neck. "It's the truth. You're mine, May. And if he walked in right now, he'd see it too—see how much you love being filled up, how much you need me." I thrust harder, deeper, emphasizing every word with the snap of my hips. "You're not his aunt anymore. You're my good little concubine."
Her moan was a broken, desperate thing, and I knew she hated how much it turned her on. But she couldn't deny it—couldn't deny me. She was mine, and no one else's. Not even Peter could change that now.
"Alex, please…" she moaned, a fresh wave of heat gushing around my shaft at the filthy fantasy. Her body was betraying her, loving it.
"He'd hear you," I hissed, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back, arching her spine. "He'd hear you begging for it. Tell me what he'd hear, May. Tell me what you are."
"I'm your whore!" she screamed, the words torn from her, raw and honest. "I'm your filthy little cunt! Please, don't stop! Fuck me! He can hear! Let him hear!"
"That's it," I grunted, the validation fueling my frenzy. I drove into her harder, my balls slapping against her wetness with every deep plunge. Smack. Smack. Smack. "He'd see your face. See how fucking gone you are for this cock. He'd know his aunt is a greedy slut who needs to be filled up."
I could feel the pressure building again, a familiar, undeniable tightening in my groin. My fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hip, sure to leave bruises. I wanted her to see them tomorrow and remember.
"I'm gonna come again, May," I warned her, my voice strained. "Gonna pump another load straight into your womb. You want that? You want my cum mixing inside you?"
"YES! YES! FILL ME UP! BREED ME, ALEX! PLEASE!" she shrieked, her own orgasm tearing through her, her cunt clamping down on me like a fist, milking me, pulling the seed from my soul.
With a guttural roar, I gave it to her. I slammed home and erupted, a hot, seemingly endless flood pouring into her depths. SPLOOSH. GUSH. SPLURT. Rope after thick rope fired deep inside her, painting her insides white, claiming her, marking her as mine. Her walls clenched around me like a vice, milking every last drop of my essence from me. I could feel her trembling beneath me, her body writhing in ecstasy as she took everything I had to give.
"Fuck, May!" I growled, my voice raw with need. "Take it all, you greedy little slut. This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be filled up, to be mine. That's it… take every fucking drop."
Her moans turned into incoherent babbles as I continued to pump my seed into her, each spurt hitting her cervix with a force that made her arch her back and cry out. The heat between us was unbearable, our bodies slick with sweat and cum. The scent of our passion filled the room, mingling with the sound of our labored breathing.
I held myself there, my cock buried to the hilt, pulsing within her as the last remnants of my release spilled forth. She was so tight, so warm, so perfect. I could feel her walls fluttering around me, still trying to milk every last bit of pleasure from me even as I started to soften. Her body was a temple, and I was the devout worshipper, offering up my offerings with every thick, sticky load.
With a final, satisfied groan, I leaned over her, my chest heaving as I caught my breath. My hands gripped her hips tightly, leaving marks that would serve as a reminder of this moment for days to come. She was completely spent, her body limp and trembling beneath me, but she was still mine—still trembling with the aftershocks of our shared climax.
May collapsed beneath me, her body a trembling, sweaty mess, utterly spent. Her ragged breathing filled the room, punctuated by the faint drip… drip… of my cum leaking out of her and soaking into the sheets. I stayed buried inside her for a moment longer, savoring the tight, wet warmth that still clung to my softening cock.
Finally, I pulled out with a wet shlurp, and she whimpered weakly at the loss. I rolled her onto her side, pulling her back against my chest, my arm draped heavily over her waist. She felt so small against me, so pliant and exhausted. Her skin was slick with sweat, but I didn't care. If anything, it only made me want her more.
I nuzzled into the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her—sex, exhaustion, and a faint hint of her perfume. My thigh pressed against hers, and I could feel the warm, sticky evidence of our fucking seeping onto my skin.
"You're done already?" I murmured, my voice low and teasing, my hand sliding down to cup her mound, feeling the heat there. "And here I thought we were just getting started."
She groaned softly, her body twitching in protest. "Alex… I can't…"
I chuckled darkly, my fingers brushing over her swollen lips, teasing the sensitive flesh. "Oh, you can," I purred, my grip tightening slightly. "You don't get to tap out until I'm finished with you."
Her breath hitched, and I could feel her pulse quickening under my touch. She was tired, but she was still mine—still willing, still eager, even if her body protested. And I wasn't done with her. Not even close.
Her breath was a soft, warm rhythm against the pillow, a stark contrast to the desperate, animalistic pants from just minutes before. I held her from behind, my body a solid wall of heat against her back. My arm was a lazy, heavy weight draped over her waist, my cock still semi-hard and nestled in the warm, slick cleft of her ass.
I let the quiet settle. The only sounds were our breathing and the distant hum of Queens traffic far below the window. I shifted, just a little, and my softening length slid through her damp folds with a soft, wet shhhlick. She made a tiny, sleepy sound in the back of her throat—not quite a moan, not quite a sigh. A sound of pure, uncomplicated contentment.
This, I thought. This was a different kind of power. Not the raw, commanding force that had her screaming my name into the mattress, but something quieter, more intimate. The power to make her feel so safe, so utterly claimed, that she could simply melt.
"You still with me, May?" I murmured, my lips brushing the delicate shell of her ear.
"Mmmhmm." It was a drowsy, almost drunken hum. "Don't think I can move. You broke me."
A slow smirk spread across my face. "Good." My hand, which had been resting on her hip, began to move. Not with demanding insistence, but with a slow, exploring curiosity. I traced the delicate ridge of her hip bone, then swept my palm inward, over the soft, flat plane of her stomach. Her skin was like warm silk under my touch. I felt her muscles quiver, a faint, involuntary response to my touch even in her exhaustion.
My fingers climbed higher, skating over her ribcage until my palm cupped the soft, heavy weight of her breast. I filled my hand with her, savoring the perfect, pliant feel of it. Her nipple, already peaked and sensitive, hardened into a tight bead against my palm. I circled it with my thumb, a slow, relentless pressure that made her arch her back just a fraction, pressing herself more firmly into my chest.
"Ohh, Alex…" she breathed out, her voice thick with sleep and rekindling pleasure.
"Just relax," I whispered, my voice a low rumble against her back. "I'm just enjoying you. My concubine. My beautiful, worn-out fuck." I squeezed her breast gently, then rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, earning another delicious shudder. I could feel the steady, heavy beat of her heart under my palm. Mine.
My hand left the sweet weight of her tit and journeyed downward again, sliding over the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip. This time, I didn't stop. My fingers trailed through the damp, soft hair between her legs before sliding lower, over the smooth, round swell of her ass.
She tensed for a half-second, a flicker of anticipation. My touch was feather-light, tracing the crease where her thigh met her buttock. Then my fingertips found the tight, hidden pucker of her asshole. I didn't press. I didn't invade. I just rested my finger there, a silent, teasing promise, circling the clenched muscle with a touch so light it was almost maddening.
"So perfect," I whispered, my cock beginning to harden in earnest against her, stirred by the filthy, intimate touch. "Every part of you is just fucking perfect, May. This tight little rosebud… I dream about it."
She whimpered, a soft, broken sound. "Alex… I'm so tired…"
"I know, baby. I know." I continued my gentle, circling massage. "I'm not asking for it tonight. This is just for me. To feel it. To know it's there." I applied the faintest amount of pressure, just enough to make her gasp and her body clench around nothing. "But you should know… when you are ready… when you finally give this to me…" I leaned in, my voice dropping to a possessive growl. "…I'm going to remember that you saved your anal virginity for me. And I am going to ruin this perfect little hole for any other man, ever."
"Yesss…" The word was a hiss of pure, submissive desire. "It's yours. I'll give it to you. I want you to be the first… the only…"
Her confession, so sleepy and honest, sent a jolt of pure lust straight to my dick. It was fully hard now, a thick, demanding presence pressed against her. I shifted my hips, the broad head of my cock finding her wet, waiting entrance from behind. I nudged forward, just an inch, and we both sighed at the exquisite, familiar stretch.
"Gonna fuck you slow now, May," I murmured, my arm tightening around her waist, pulling her even closer. "Just like this. You don't have to do a thing. Just feel me."
I began to move. Not the frantic, piston-like drive from before, but a slow, deep, rolling rhythm. Each thrust was a long, luxurious glide into her warm, welcoming depths. Squelch. Shlick. Glorp. The wet sounds were obscene and perfect. I kept one hand on her breast, gently kneading the soft flesh, while the other stayed on her ass, my thumb still making lazy, possessive circles around that forbidden tightness.
She was moaning softly with every inward stroke, a continuous, low stream of pleasure. "Oh god… oh fuck… it feels so good… so full… don't stop… please, Alex, just like that…"
Her words were slurred, her body completely pliant in my arms. She was letting me take my pleasure from her, too exhausted to actively participate, yet every soft, involuntary clench of her cunt told me she was hurtling toward another climax. The dual sensation—my thumb teasing her asshole while my cock plunged deep into her pussy—was pushing her over an edge she didn't even know was left.
I could feel my own orgasm building, a deep, coiling pressure in my balls. My gentle pace began to falter, my hips starting to snap with a little more urgency, a little more force. The bedsprings began to creak again, a gentle accompaniment to our ragged breathing.
"I'm gonna come, May," I grunted, my voice strained. "Gonna fill this sweet cunt up again. You wanna feel it? You wanna feel my hot cum flooding you?"
"Yes! Please! Fill me up, Alex! I want it… I want to feel you pulse inside me…"
That was all it took. With a final, deep thrust that buried me to the hilt, I erupted. A hot, voluminous flood shot into her, rope after thick, relentless rope. SPLOOSH. GUSH. SPLURT. It felt endless, a claiming that went right to her core. Her own orgasm gripped me instantly, her inner walls fluttering and milking my cock for every last drop with a series of weak, desperate spasms.
I held myself there, pulsing, until I was completely spent. We were both panting, slick with a fresh layer of sweat. I felt her body go completely, utterly limp in my arms. Her breathing evened out into the deep, slow rhythm of sleep within seconds.
I softened inside her, but didn't pull out. I just held her, feeling the warm, sticky proof of our fucking seeping out around the base of my cock. I nuzzled her hair.
"That's my good girl," I whispered to her sleeping form. "You rest now." My hand slid from her ass to rest protectively on her stomach, over the place I'd just filled.
I stayed like that for a while, savoring the feel of her soft, sleeping body cradled against mine. Her breathing had settled into a deep, rhythmic pattern, and her limbs felt heavy with exhaustion. I carefully slid out of her, my spent cock still slick with our shared fluids, and rolled onto my side to gaze at her.
She looked so peaceful, her dark hair fanned out across the pillow, her lips slightly parted. My May. Mine. I brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. Her skin was warm, her expression serene. I took a moment to make sure she was alright—her breathing steady, her body relaxed, her forehead free from any signs of discomfort.
Satisfied, I eased myself off the bed, moving slowly so as not to disturb her. I grabbed the duvet from the foot of the bed and draped it over her, tucking it snugly around her shoulders. She shifted slightly, murmuring something unintelligible in her sleep, but didn't wake. I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment to inhale the faint scent of her shampoo mixed with the musk of sex.
Then I straightened and padded quietly across the room to gather my clothes. I dressed quickly, my movements efficient but silent, unwilling to break the stillness of the room. As I buttoned my shirt, my eyes drifted back to the bed, to the gentle rise and fall of her chest under the covers. A strange mix of pride and tenderness swelled in my chest—pride that she trusted me enough to let me take her like that, and tenderness for the way she lay there, so fragile yet so utterly surrendered.
I slid my shoes on and cast one last glance at her before slipping out of the bedroom. The apartment was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. I moved through the space with ease, my footsteps light on the creaky wooden floors. At the front door, I paused, my hand resting on the knob.
"Rest well, May," I whispered softly into the empty apartment, then stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind me with a barely audible click.