Once he finishes filling my mouth with hot, thick cum, he doesn’t let me rest. He flips me over onto my stomach with a rough shove, pressing my face into the mattress. I can hear the zip of his pants and the snap of his belt. I’m already shivering, my ass arched high in the air, waiting for him. I feel his hand slap my cheek hard, the sting making my pussy soak through my thin panties.
“Good girl,” he growls, and then I feel it—the blunt head of his cock rubbing against my wet slit. He doesn’t use any lube; he doesn’t need to. I’m dripping for him. With one powerful surge, he rams himself inside me, splitting me open. I scream into the pillow, my fingers clawing at the sheets as he begins to fuck me with brutal, mindless efficiency.
Every thrust is a reminder of who I belong to. He reaches around to grab my breasts, kneading them roughly while he hammers into my ass and pussy, switching between the two just to keep me guessing. The sound of our skin slapping together fills the room, a wet, rhythmic thud that drives me insane. I’m just a slave to his lust, a piece of meat for him to use whenever he feels the urge. I beg him to go harder, to break me, to leave me shaking and spent before the sun is even fully up.

















