A whole lot more

Emily stayed where she was—bent over the chair, legs spread, the insides of her thighs wet with streaks of cum and her own slick. Her pussy, still stretched and trembling from the second boy’s finish, twitched around emptiness, aching raw, flushed, and gaping. Her climax had hovered so close it was unbearable, then slipped away, leaving a deep, pulsing frustration thudding through her clit and low belly.

And then—

Another presence.

No teasing. No laughter. No voice.

Just pressure—huge, blunt, and sudden—pushing against her soaked entrance.

And then in.

The third cock drove into her with a single, devastating thrust—so thick it **** her open with a sharp, wet schlop, sliding into her with the weight and girth of something that had no business fitting, veined and wide enough to leave her gasping as her folds stretched taut around him.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t wait.

There was no hip-to-hip contact, no guiding hands—just a relentless, battering cock plunging through the hole in the wall, burying itself into her again and again with brutal, unyielding ****. The tip slammed her cervix with every thrust, bruising her from within, each impact a deep, jarring shock that made her cry out and rock forward in place.

Her pussy squelched with every stroke, her juices gushing around the thick shaft, spraying messily down her thighs and the tile floor below. Her inner walls clenched hard, struggling to accommodate the sheer width of him, her whole body jerking with every pounding push.

“Ah—fuck—fuck, he’s too big—” she sobbed, her voice cracking.

But she didn’t move. Couldn’t. Her cunt was stuffed full, her body reduced to a pulsing channel wrapped around a cock that felt like it was rearranging her from the inside.

And he kept going.

Wham. Wham. Wham. Through the wall, deeper every time, battering her from the inside out, his cock hammering her cervix like a battering ram. She could feel the curve of him, the veins, the sheer unrelenting girth dragging her walls apart with every inch. Her clit throbbed untouched, her thighs trembled, her knees buckled beneath her.

And then—she broke.

The orgasm that had hovered at the edge came roaring back, crashing through her with blinding ****. Her pussy locked down hard, milking him in wild, **** spasms, her juices gushing out in violent sprays, soaking her inner thighs, the seat, the floor. Her scream echoed against the tile, cut off by her own gasping sobs, body convulsing, twitching under the **** of his cock.

He didn’t slow.

He fucked through her orgasm, using her spasming, dripping cunt like a hole designed just for him—through the wall, relentless, pounding, thick and deep, unbothered by how violently she was shaking beneath him.

She was drooling onto the chair, her cunt a sloppy, wrecked mess clinging to every inch of his cock, still spasming, still leaking.

And he wasn’t even close to done.