Jasmine's mind went blank, shock and raw sensation crashing over her in the same breath. In all her thirty-two years, no one had ever taken her ass, not once, and now Arin had simply rammed himself inside her like a battering ram claiming a forbidden gate.
Her eyes flew wide, mouth falling open in a silent scream; for a long second no sound escaped her at all.
Then the pounding began, brutal, relentless, each thrust driving deeper than the last, stretching her impossibly tight ring to its limit.
"Annh! Ahh, annhh!" The cries tore from her throat whether she wanted them to or not.
'Oh my god… he's tearing my ass apart. What the hell is wrong with Arin? He's never been like this… this has to be the Viagra, those damn side effects, but why is it hitting him so hard?' she thought in frantic fragments, trying desperately to resist the savage invasion.
"A-Arin… please, listen to me!" she managed, voice shaking with every violent slam. "You're going to rip me in half!"
He didn't even flinch. Ten minutes of merciless anal pounding, and still no sign of slowing, no flicker of recognition in those empty, glazed eyes.
Pinned beneath him, wrists trapped, all she could do was endure and pray the madness would burn itself out. Her body betrayed her anyway. One brutal climax ripped through her from the sheer overstimulation of her untouched hole.
"Annh… Arin… stop, please, this is too much…!" she sobbed, but the words fell on deaf ears.
She felt it then: his cock swelling impossibly thicker, throbbing with urgent pressure.
"No… Arin, not inside my ass… please, annhh—". Her plea dissolved into a broken wail.
'If he floods my ass I'm going to cum aga—'
"ANHHHH~~!"
*SPLURT—SPLUUUURT—SPLURT!*
Hot, heavy ropes erupted deep inside her bowels, less thick than before but still scalding, marking her in the most forbidden way. The sensation shattered her; her vision blackened for a moment as she collapsed face-first into the mattress.
She thought it was finally over.
Then his hips rolled again, slow, deliberate, still rock-hard and hungry.
"Huh? No… no, no, no—Arin, please, no more, I'm begging you!" she whimpered, tears streaking the sheets.
He didn't hear her. Didn't care. His fingers dug into her bruised cheeks, spreading her wider as he resumed the punishing rhythm, churning his own cum deeper with every thrust.
For another five agonizing minutes, Arin rutted into her like a starved wolf, hips snapping with savage, unbroken rhythm.
"Anhh… ahh… ahh… A-Arin… ahh…". Her moans had turned thin and ragged, her mind fraying at the edges from sheer exhaustion.
Then, just as she steeled herself for yet another endless round, Arin froze mid-thrust. A low, guttural exhale rasped out of him, and his body went slack. Like a marionette with its strings sliced, he collapsed backward, his cock sliding free with a lewd, wet pop.
A thick flood of warm cum immediately poured from her ruined, gaping ass, streaming down her trembling thighs and soaking the already-ruined sheets. The sudden emptiness, the filthy rush of release, sent one last involuntary shudder of twisted pleasure rippling through her wrecked body.
She lay there gasping, shaking, utterly spent.
After several long minutes, she turned her head.
Arin was sprawled on his back, dead to the world, chest rising and falling in deep, unconscious sleep, while his cock still jutted skyward, swollen and angry-red, twitching now and then, as if silently warning her the night might not truly be over.
—————
Two days later – 11:32 a.m.
Arin's eyelids fluttered open to the soft clacking of keyboard keys.
*click-click-click*
The first thing he saw was Jasmine hunched over her laptop at the small desk by the window, sunlight pouring across her shoulders.
"A-Aunt…?" His voice came out a dry croak.
She startled, spun around, and the moment she saw his open eyes her face crumpled with relief. The laptop was forgotten in an instant. She bolted to the kitchen, returning seconds later with a tall glass of warm water.
"Arin… oh thank God, you're awake." She dropped to her knees beside the bed and pulled him into a fierce hug, pressing his face into the soft warmth of her chest. "I was so scared…"
With gentle hands she helped him sit up, propping pillows behind his back, then carefully tipped the glass to his lips. He drank greedily—he hadn't had a drop in two full days and nights.
"Aunt Jas… what happened?" he rasped once the glass was empty, confusion clouding his eyes. "I barely remember anything after the orange juice…"
…
Half an hour later, after she'd poured out every shameful detail (the secret purchase, the double dose, the hours he'd spent lost in that terrifying, animal haze), her voice finally cracked.
"…that's what happened. I'm so sorry, Arin." Tears welled up and spilled over, sliding down her flushed cheeks.
He lifted a shaky hand and gently brushed them away with his fingertips.
"Hey… don't cry, Aunt Jas," he whispered, voice still rough from two days of silence. "I forgive you. Really. Just… please don't cry."
sob… sob…
A small, sheepish smile tugged at his lips. "Aunt… I'm really hungry."
She let out a wet, relieved laugh. "Yes, yes, of course. Give me one minute."
She rose quickly and disappeared into the kitchen. Arin sank back against the pillows, too weak to hold himself up for long.
His gaze drifted to the window, where the curtains were drawn back, letting morning light flood in, gilding the floorboards and the little table in warm gold. The faint scent of fresh roses drifted through the room, sweet and deceptively peaceful.
Moments later she returned with a steaming bowl and a spoon. Settling carefully on the edge of the bed, she scooped up a bite and brought it to his lips.
Arin opened his mouth without protest, letting her feed him like he was a small child again. He ate greedily, obediently, swallowing every spoonful until the bowl was scraped clean and the plate of toast beside it had vanished.
Only when the last crumb was gone did he finally lean back, exhausted but full, and offer her a faint, tired smile of gratitude.
She set the empty bowl on the nightstand and smoothed the blanket over his chest, her fingers lingering just a second too long.
"Get some more rest, okay?" she whispered, voice still thick with guilt and relief. "I'll be right here if you need anything."
Arin gave a tired nod, his eyes drifting across the room. His phone lay on the nightstand beside the bed, bathed in soft morning sunlight, half-hidden beneath a stack of papers and almost eclipsed by the vase of rose.
He reached over with a faint grimace, unlocked the screen, and watched the missed notifications cascade in.
Then one message stopped his heart cold.
Mrs. Olivia: Next class, come straight to my office after yoga class.