No. Just some "twitching" - he´s trying to hold back

I felt him twitch again — deep, slow, heavy pulses inside me. Warmth spread through my whole lower belly like honey. It felt so good, so full, so… right. Another twitch. Then another. He just stayed buried all the way in, gripping my hips tight, holding me exactly where he wanted me. For maybe a whole minute he didn’t move at all — just throbbed.

I sighed happily into the pillow.

“I love how you control yourself,” I mumbled, words thick and slow. “You must be so close. I can feel every twitch inside me… it’s so nice. You have such big willpower. My husband always comes after like one minute. Seriously. The second I undress he’s already breathing hard. He just bends me over, puts it in from behind, shoots into the condom and then flops over and snores. I usually peel the condom off him, clean him up a little with my tongue, then go do the dishes.”

He laughed once — short and mean.

“Shut up, my little whore.”

“Okay,” I whispered sweetly. “Anything you want.”

“Now do me a favor.”

“Anything, darling.” I pushed myself up onto all fours, knees sinking into the filthy mattress. I looked back over my shoulder, over the curve of my butt, up at him with big glassy eyes.

“I need to take a shit,” he said casually. “I’ll be right back. You can relax a little, get a drink or something. Think about something sexy while I’m gone. Good?”

“Sure, whatever you say, baby.” I gave him my flirtiest smile even though my head was swimming. “Hurry up though… I want to feel you inside me again.”

He just grunted and walked off naked toward the little toilet door. For half a second I stared at his bare ass and realized… no condom. Nothing hanging off him. No latex.

Oh. He probably took it off to pee. Makes sense. He’ll put a new one on when he comes back. Obviously.

I reached for the glass again and took a lazy sip. The burn felt nice now. Familiar.

Inside the toilet he muttered to himself while he sat.

“Shit… already put two big loads into that little fuckslut and she didn’t even blink. This is fine. You’re not a ****, don’t worry. She’s loving it. Just to make sure… I’ll go for a third round. I’ve still got another load for her. Fuck, man, you’re good. She’s so young. So hot.”

His dick twitched against his thigh, already thickening again.

“This stupid little cunt has no fucking clue what’s going on. Gotta love ’em dumb. Dumb and knocked up.”

Then he flushed, washed his hands (I heard the water), and came back.

“Here, Tiffany,” he said, nodding at the glass. “Drink up, my little slut. Then come back to bed. My dick wants to feel that fertile pussy again.”

I giggled at the wrong name but didn’t correct him. I just drank another big swallow like a good girl, then looked up at him submissively, waiting for the next order. I actually felt excited to make him happy again.

“Turn around, slut. Show me that big juicy ass.”

I turned immediately, grabbed two fistfuls of the dirty sheets, arched my back and pushed my butt high in the air for him.

“Hands off the sheets. Put them back. Pull your pussy lips apart for me. Slowly… slooowly… yes. Just a little bit.”

I did exactly what he said. Of course I did. Fingers slippery, I spread myself open for him, feeling the cool air on the wet heat.

He groaned low in his throat when he saw me like that.

Then he pushed back in — half-hard at first, but thickening fast. I felt something warm and thick leak out around him and run down the insides of my thighs. Slick. Sticky. Wow… I must be really wet, I thought happily. He loves that.

He grabbed my wide hips — those “birthing hips” my mom used to joke about — and started thrusting again. Harder this time. More aggressive. I could feel how excited he was getting all over again. Every stroke hit deep, right against that spot that made my toes curl.

Then — clear as anything — he said it.

“I want to knock you up and send you home to your husband with your pussy full of my white gooey slime and with my baby in your belly. There’ll be so much jizz in you for the next weeks.”

I burst out laughing — a drunk, breathy little giggle that shook my whole body while he kept fucking me.

“That’s so ridiculous!” I panted. “So hot and so funny at the same time. What a crazy thing to say!”

I mean… obviously he was just talking dirty. Dirty talk was supposed to be filthy and over-the-top, right? That’s what made it exciting. He couldn’t actually mean that. No one would really do that.

“Yeah… the idea is kinda hot,” I admitted, voice wobbly with pleasure. “But you should come in the rubber, okay? My husband would literally kill me if he found out I cheated on him.”

And in my head I added the rest of the thought without even realizing how close it came to the truth:

Also if he found out another man got to come inside my fertile pussy and he never does… that would be enough reason for him to throw me out on the street.

The danger felt thrilling. Sharp. Sexy. Like standing right on the edge of something scary and delicious at the same time.

But still — in my hazy, happy little world — I was sure everything would be fine. He’d finish on my ass or my back or my tits this time. I’d clean up, catch the last bus, shower at home, slide into bed next to my sleeping husband, and this whole wild night would just be a secret little adventure I could touch myself to later.

So I just arched my back harder, pushed back against him, and let him keep going — moaning softly like the good little slut he kept calling me.

Completely convinced I still had everything under control.