Fuck her

You shove Marsha back onto the bed, the old mattress groaning under her weight. She lands sprawled, sports bra rucked up over her breasts, leggings peeled halfway down her thighs. You’re on her before she can catch her breath, mouth latching onto one stiff nipple, teeth scraping, tongue flicking hard. She arches off the bed with a ragged, ear-splitting cry that echoes off the cracked ceiling. Your hands **** her thighs wider, nails digging crescents into soft skin, tracing the faint bruises Ricky left earlier.

Lower now. You drag your tongue down the center of her sweat-slick torso, tasting salt and desperation, until you reach her swollen clit. You suck it between your lips, flicking mercilessly, two fingers plunging into her dripping cunt and curling hard. Marsha’s hips buck wildly; her hands fist in your hair, trying to pull you closer, deeper. She comes with a broken scream, thighs clamping around your head, pussy pulsing so hard you feel every contraction against your tongue.

You don’t let her recover. You rear up, snatch the thick, black dildo from the nightstand (ten inches, ridged, still warm from the drawer), and without warning drive it straight into her ass. Marsha’s back bows off the mattress, a shocked, guttural howl ripping from her throat. You twist it deeper, watching her hole stretch greedily around the shaft, then start fucking her with short, brutal thrusts. Her eyes roll back, mascara streaking, another orgasm tearing through her so violently the headboard slams against the wall.

You’re dripping, aching. You yank the dildo free with a wet pop, grab the double-ended strap-on you keep in every bedroom you might use, and buckle it on fast. The silicone end slides into your own soaked cunt with a delicious burn; the other juts out, thick and menacing. Marsha watches, lips parted, chest heaving, pupils blown wide with lust.

You shove her legs up to her shoulders, fold her nearly in half, and slam home. The base grinds against your clit with every thrust; the ridged shaft drags across your front wall while you pound into her. The room fills with wet slaps, her choked sobs, your own low growls. You fuck her harder, faster, the bed frame rattling like it might collapse. Sweat drips from your jaw onto her tits.

The pressure coils, snaps. You come with a snarl, hips stuttering, vision whiting out. Marsha follows a heartbeat later, her cunt spasming around nothing, ass clenching on the memory of the toy, a final, shattered scream tearing loose as her whole body convulses beneath you. You ride the aftershocks together, locked tight, trembling, until the world comes back into focus.