Soft

He didn’t pound into her.

Not yet.

Instead, his hips began to grind in slow, syrupy strokes, dragging the thick length of his cock through her soaked, swollen cunt. Every inch slid along her slick inner walls, stretching her wide again with that unbearable, smoldering fullness.

Shlk… shlk… shlk.

Each thrust sent a soft, wet sound echoing in the closet, vulgar and rhythmic. Her body, still raw and overstimulated from the orgasm he’d wrung out of her minutes ago, trembled helplessly around him. Her pussy clutched at him involuntarily, like it didn’t want to let go.

He drove in deep, bottoming out with a muffled grunt, the base of his cock grinding against her aching clit. Then he rolled his hips in a slow circle, grinding inside her, making her body sing. Her legs twitched. Her lips parted on a breathless gasp.

And then his mouth found her tit.

Not rough. Not ****.

Worshipful.

He cupped the curve of her breast, thumb flicking the nipple with practiced ease, then leaned in and sucked her into his mouth—wet and hot, tongue lapping slow circles around the stiff bud before he closed his lips and suckled hard.

Mmhh… mmph… His mouth worked in tandem with his cock, dragging a ragged little moan from her throat as he thrust deep again, hips rolling, chest flush to hers. She could feel everything—the warmth of his mouth, the scrape of his stubble, the way his thick shaft filled her completely and stretched her open just enough to ache deliciously.

Her back arched against him. Her legs wrapped tighter around his hips.

He didn’t let up.

He sucked harder, tongue teasing, then dragged his mouth across her chest, leaving a wet trail of kisses down to the other nipple—licking, then biting it softly before closing his lips and sucking it deep into his mouth.

The pulse of her heartbeat pounded in her clit.

Her cunt was soaked, obscene, his cock driving through it with maddening pressure.

Shlk… shlk… shlk.

Her juices coated his shaft, wetting his thighs, slicking down the inside of her own. She could feel the mess they were making—his balls slapping lightly against her ass with every deep stroke, the wet squelch of each thrust filling the closet like applause.

Then he moved again—up her throat now, kissing, licking, biting. Her pulse thudded beneath his mouth. His tongue circled her neck, then dragged across her jawline to her ear.

He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, breathing hard.

“You’re gonna come again,” he whispered. “I can feel it.”

She shook her head.

But her body betrayed her—again.

Her cunt tightened around his cock, muscles fluttering, begging for it.

He grinned against her skin. “There it is…”

His hand slid between them, thumb finding her clit, rubbing it in tight, slow circles as he thrust deep—again and again, the head of his cock kissing that sweet spot inside her, the angle perfect now.

Her legs locked. Her breath stuttered.

The sound that left her throat was half-cry, half-moan.

He was going to make her come again.

And he knew it.

“Come on, baby,” he breathed. “Let go. Let me feel you.”

She tried to hold on.

Tried to keep some sliver of dignity.

But it ripped out of her—violent, hot, all-consuming.

Her climax exploded in her like a scream she couldn’t voice. Her pussy spasmed around him, milking his cock with wet, pulsing contractions as she came hard, harder than before, her body jerking, breath **** in her throat.

Her nails dug into his shoulders.

Her moan was muffled, strangled, but ****—“uhnnhh—ahh…ahhh—”

She rode the wave, hips bucking into him, her cunt gushing around his cock with every pulse. Wet heat spilled down her thighs, soaking the towels beneath her, squelching between their bodies.

He groaned deep and thick in her ear, cock twitching inside her as he stayed buried to the root, letting her ride out every last spasm.

She collapsed against him, limp, ruined.

Chest heaving. Mouth slack.

He held her tight.

Still inside her.

Still hard.

Not finished.

Not even close.