[Vol 2]Hardcore

Chapter 90 - Hardcore

The room was a humid, animal den of sex. Thick, wet, musky heat hung in the air like a second skin—the raw stink of two bodies that had already fucked hard and were nowhere near done. The sheets were a wreck: twisted white ropes around their legs, soaked dark in the middle where Nancy’s pussy had dripped and leaked every time Mike bottomed out. The mattress complained under them with every heavy thrust. The only sounds were the wet, rhythmic slap of his hips against her ass, the soft filthy squelch of his thick cock driving in and out of her dripping hole, and Nancy’s broken, hungry moans tearing out of her throat.

“More… fuck, Mike, more—” she gasped, voice cracked and desperate. Her nails raked down his back hard enough to leave angry red tracks, digging in like she wanted to climb inside his skin. “Don’t you fucking stop. Mike just ruin me.”

Mike was buried to the root, balls tight against her ass, his cock stretching her open on every slow, deliberate roll of his hips. He wasn’t just thrusting—he was grinding, working the fat head of his cock against the softest, most sensitive part of her, that swollen spot that made her thighs shake and her cunt spasm around him.

Every time he sank in, the pressure dragged a raw, guttural sound out of her. He braced one thick forearm beside her head so he could watch her face, the other hand cupping her full breast, thumb circling the tight, dark peak until it was hard as a stone. Then he dropped his mouth and sucked it in hard, tongue flicking, teeth grazing, biting down just enough to make her cry out sharp and high.

The sound vibrated against his lips. He kissed her through it, swallowing the next moan, tongue fucking into her mouth the same way his cock was fucking her cunt—deep, wet, claiming. Nancy opened for him like she was starving, tongue sliding against his, teeth catching his lower lip, hips lifting off the bed to meet every stroke like she was trying to take him into her goddamn womb.

“Deeper,” she begged into the kiss, voice ragged, spit-slick. “Don’t stop—please don’t fucking stop—fill me, stretch me, use me—”

Mike growled low in his chest and gave her exactly what she was begging for. He shifted his weight, hooked one of her legs higher over his arm, and drove in harder. The angle changed. His cock slammed against that soft, greedy spot inside her with every thrust now, wetter, louder, the slap of skin turning filthy and raw. Her cunt was a soaked, pulsing sleeve around him—hot, clutching, dripping down his balls every time he pulled back. He could feel how open she was, how wrecked, the way her walls fluttered and tried to milk him on every stroke.

Sweat slid down the valley between her breasts. He licked it, tasted salt and sex, then bit the soft underside of her tit just to hear her curse. Nancy’s hands were everywhere—clawing his shoulders, fisting his hair, sliding down to grab his ass and pull him in deeper like she couldn’t get enough of the stretch. Her mouth was open, panting, moaning straight into his ear now.

“Fuck me like you mean it,” she snarled, voice low and filthy. “Come on, Mike—pound that cock into me. I want to feel you in my fucking throat. Don’t be gentle. I don’t want gentle. I want you to wreck this cunt.”

He gave it to her. Hips snapping harder, faster, the wet slap turning into a brutal rhythm. The bedframe started knocking against the wall. Nancy’s moans broke into sharp, punched-out cries every time he bottomed out. Her pussy was making those obscene, wet sounds—squelching, dripping, greedy as hell. He could feel her getting closer, the way her walls started clamping down, fluttering, trying to lock him in.

Mike dropped his forehead to hers, breathing hard, still fucking her deep and relentless. “Look at you,” he rasped. “Taking every inch like a filthy little slut. Your cunt’s dripping down my balls, Nancy. You’re soaked. You love this, don’t you? Getting fucked open, used, filled—”

“Yes—” she choked, eyes glassy, lips swollen. “Yes, fuck, yes—don’t stop, don’t you dare stop—harder—”

He reached between them and found her clit, swollen and slick, and rubbed it in tight circles while he kept driving into her. Nancy’s back arched hard off the bed. A raw, broken scream tore out of her throat. Her nails dug deeper. Her cunt seized around his cock like it was trying to suck the cum straight out of him.

The room was nothing but heat and wet and the animal sound of two people fucking like the world was ending. Sheets tangled. Sweat flying. Her moans cracking into sobs of pure need. His cock buried to the hilt, grinding, claiming, ruining her from the inside out.

And neither of them was anywhere near finished.

Nancy’s legs locked around his waist. Her moans spilled straight into his mouth every time he bottomed out. He kissed her like he was starving for the sounds she made—swallowing every whimper, every broken “more.”

He pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back in. Again. Again. The wet sound of it filled the room. Nancy’s head tipped back, throat exposed, and he dragged his teeth along it before claiming her mouth once more.

“Mike—oh god—right there—”

He kept the angle, pounding that spot until her thighs shook. His own control was fraying; the tight, hot clench of her around him made his cock throb. He thrust harder, faster, hips snapping. One hand slid between them so his fingers could rub her clit in tight circles while he fucked her.

Nancy’s moans turned sharp, desperate. “I’m—Mike, I’m—”

“Come,” he growled against her lips. “Come on my cock.”

She shattered. Her pussy clenched hard around him, pulsing, milking him as she cried out into his mouth. The tight, rhythmic squeeze pushed him over. Mike buried himself to the root and came with a low, guttural sound, spilling deep inside her in thick pulses. He kept thrusting through it, riding the waves, grinding against her as both of them shook.

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