Her senses drowned—the scalding heat of him, the sharp tang of precum and slick, the wet, rhythmic squelch of her pussy, her skin a live wire under his gaze, her pulse a deafening roar in her ears.

"More," she rasped, voice a broken, pleading thread, her clit throbbing so hard it hurt.

He surged forward, his cock splitting her open, her pussy swallowing him with a wet, greedy schlorp, walls gripping every vein, stretching until she felt him in her fucking soul.

When he bottomed out, balls pressed flush against her ass, the base ringed in a thick froth of her creamy slick, she screamed—a raw, primal howl that shattered the air—her pussy clamping like a furnace, pulsing violently around his full length, the stretch a perfect, ruinous ecstasy.

He groaned, forehead crashing to hers, his cock twitching deep, her cunt milking him with every shuddering heartbeat, her body a trembling, overwhelmed wreck.

"All of you," he whispered, voice a sacred vow.

He pulled back from her pussy, forearms caging her head, his face a breath from hers, eyes blazing with a devotion that seared her soul.

"I'm going to enter you again now," he vowed, voice a low, seismic thrum that pulsed through her core.

"Slow. So fucking slow. I want you to feel every inch. Every vein. Every ridge. I want you to know what it's like to be stretched around my cock, filled so completely you'll never remember empty."

He guided the head to her entrance.

The touch was a cataclysm. His cockhead, scalding, impossibly rigid, pressed against her swollen, glistening lips, her pussy clenching reflexively, a desperate, slick pull that made them both gasp. The air crackled, thick with his dark, honeyed scent, her senses drowning in the wet heat of their arousal.

He pushed forward—agonizingly slow—the flared crown stretching her open, her pussy lips splaying wide, pink inner walls flashing, straining to swallow his girth. Her cunt burned, a perfect, soul-shattering pressure, every nerve screaming with the exquisite invasion, her vision fracturing into white-hot sparks.

"Breathe," he groaned, voice raw with restraint. "Fuck, Patricia, breathe. Relax for me. You're so tight."

She sucked in a trembling breath, her pussy fluttering, forcing herself to yield. Another inch slid in, the head popping past her entrance with a wet schlick.

"Oh god," she mouthed, silent, the fullness from just the crown a revelation that rewrote her existence.

He paused, her entrance clamped like a molten ring, slick glazing his head in creamy sheen. Then he pressed deeper, his shaft thicker than the crown, veins dragging over her raw walls, each ridge a lightning bolt, her clit pulsing in sync, tears streaming as pleasure-pain consumed her.

Five inches. Six. He reached depths no one had touched, stretching her so full her bones sang, her pussy gushing, slick flooding his length, dripping in hot, sticky torrents. "You're doing so good," he praised, voice wrecked with awe.

"Taking me perfectly. Made for me."

Her pussy spasmed, walls milking him, a fresh deluge easing his path. Seven inches. Eight. He pulled back—slowly—the drag of his shaft a torturous ecstasy, her walls clinging desperately, squelching wetly.

He thrust back in, filling her again, a possessive, deliberate rhythm that claimed her soul.

With one final, reverent push, he bottomed out. His hips flush against hers, his entire magnificent cock buried to the hilt, the head kissing her cervix.

A silent, violent scream tore from her as an orgasm remade her—a continental shift, her pussy pulsing in slow, rhythmic contractions, walls crushing his length, milking every vein, a soul-deep quake that shattered her from within. Her senses exploded—the scalding heat of him, the musky tang of slick and precum, the wet, rhythmic schlorp, her skin a live wire, her heart a deafening roar.

He held still, his cock throbbing inside her, trembling with restraint. "I'm going to move now," he whispered, voice a sacred oath. "Slow. I want to feel everything with you."

His pace was devastating—slow, deep, perfect strokes, less sex, more possession. Each thrust was a vow, his cock dragging over her G-spot, sparks detonating with every pass, her pussy singing, walls rippling in frantic worship.

His hands cupped her marked breasts, thumbs circling her hypersensitive nipples, cascading pleasure layering over the stretch.

His aura intensified, a forbidden righteousness, phantom touches licking her skin, amplifying every sensation until she was sobbing with need.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, kissing tears from her cheeks, voice thick with adoration. "The way you take my cock. Your body marked by me. You're the most perfect thing I've ever seen." Her heart clenched, his words a balm to twenty-three years of invisibility.

He shifted, angling perfectly, the next thrust grinding against her G-spot, stars exploding behind her eyes.

This was no fucking—it was a sacrament, his cock worshipping her, claiming her. The pleasure built, not a crash but a tide, filling her soul, layer upon layer. "I'm going to make you come like this," he vowed. "Slow. Deep. Just from my cock inside you. From being seen. Worshipped. Loved."

Loved. The word was a lightning strike, her pussy convulsing, walls clamping in a relentless, soul-deep rhythm. The orgasm was a slow, seismic quake, her cunt milking him, pulsing in waves that rewrote her essence, her body arching, tears streaming, her soul laid bare.

He kept moving, prolonging the ecstasy, his cock dragging over that spot, whispering, "You matter. You're everything."

As the waves ebbed, he rasped, eyes burning, "I'm close. Where?" He asked teasing although he already knew where she wanted him to pour it all.

Her hands cupped his face, mouthing with desperate clarity: Inside me. Fill me.

"Okay," he breathed, burying himself to the hilt. He came.

His cock throbbed violently, scalding ropes erupting, flooding her with primal heat, coating her walls, a possessive brand. Her pussy pulsed, milking every drop, the warmth spreading, filling her completely. He collapsed, a protective cage, his cock still buried, kissing her forehead.

"Thank you," he whispered. "For letting me show you what you deserve."

Patricia held him, his cum inside her, his cock stretching her, her soul whole. For the first time in twenty-three years, she was seen. Worshipped. Claimed.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.