Try to relax and let Rhys push deeper — your body will adjust to his size.

3 Breedmore Lane, Maplewood Suburbs, at 11:12 PM on Friday October 31, 2024

I force myself to breathe. In through my nose, out through my mouth, the way I do before panic attacks — except this isn't panic. This is the opposite of panic. This is my body being split open by something impossibly thick while three loads of cum squelch around the invading shaft, and my pussy is gripping him like it never wants to let go.

"That's it," Rhys rumbles, his massive hand still pressing flat against my lower belly. "Relax for me, bunny. Let me in."

I exhale deliberately, consciously unclenching, and feel my walls yield — just slightly, just enough. He pushes forward another inch and the stretch becomes a fullness that borders on transcendent. My body wants this. My arousal-drenched brain is screaming for more even as my muscles strain to accommodate his beer-can girth.

"Oh fuck," I gasp, my bound wrists twisting uselessly behind my back. The silk holds. I can't grab anything, can't brace myself — can only lie here blindfolded and take whatever he gives me.

"Three-quarters," Rhys announces, his voice strained with effort. His cock throbs inside me — I can feel each pulse of blood through the engorged veins ridging his shaft, pressing against my stretched walls like a topographical map of pleasure. "Tightest pussy I've ever had. You're squeezing me so hard I can barely move."

He withdraws — just an inch — and the drag of his veined shaft against my swollen inner walls sends lightning crackling through my pelvis. Then he pushes deeper, and I feel something give. My body opens for him completely, the last resistance crumbling, and he sinks to the root with a groan that shakes the chaise beneath us.

Ten inches. All of it. Buried inside a girl who lost her virginity two hours ago.

"Holy shit," Rhys breathes. "I'm all the way in. I can feel your cervix kissing the tip. You took every fucking inch, bunny."

He begins to move — slow, devastating strokes that pull nearly all the way out before driving back to the hilt. Each thrust displaces the cum already inside me, thick white fluid being pushed aside by his massive girth, squirting out around the seal of our bodies with obscene wet sounds. The blindfold amplifies everything — every ridge of his cock dragging across my G-spot, every slap of his heavy balls against my ass, the wet squelch of a cum-filled pussy being fucked by a cock too big for it.

"Callum," Rhys grunts between thrusts, his pace quickening. "You watching this? Look how her little belly bulges when I push in."

A hand — smaller, Callum's — presses against my stomach from the side. I feel the distension there, the way Rhys's cock pushes outward against my abdomen with each deep stroke.

"Incredible," Callum murmurs. "She's taking it like she was made for it."

Rhys's thumb grinds against my clit and I detonate — my pussy clamping around his impossible thickness in violent, rhythmic contractions, my entire body seizing as the orgasm tears through me. I scream into the darkness, my back arching off the cushions, my bound wrists straining against the silk, and I feel myself gushing — hot fluid spraying around his cock, soaking his pelvis, dripping onto the velvet beneath us.

"She's squirting," Rhys laughs, breathless. "Squirting all over my cock. Fuck, that's hot."

He doesn't slow down. He fucks me straight through the orgasm, his massive shaft pounding into my spasming pussy with increasing force, and the overstimulation borders on unbearable — pleasure so intense it curdles into something sharper, something that makes my toes curl and my thighs shake.

"Gonna cum," he growls, his thrusts turning savage. "Gonna breed this tiny bunny so deep. Gonna pump you so full you taste it."

He buries himself completely — his pelvis crushing against mine, his cock swelling impossibly wider inside me — and I feel the first volcanic eruption of his cum blasting directly into my womb. It's massive. Thick, heavy ropes spurting in pulse after pulse, his cock jerking inside my overstuffed channel, adding a fourth man's load to the three already pooling against my cervix. The volume is staggering — I can feel my belly growing warmer, fuller, the combined semen of four men creating a pressure that makes me whimper.

"Take it," Rhys groans, still cumming, his cock twitching through what feels like a dozen spurts. "Every drop. Four loads deep in this little breeding hole."

When he finally pulls free, the gush that follows is obscene — a thick river of white pouring from my gaping, stretched pussy, pooling on the velvet cushions beneath me. I lie there trembling, blindfolded, bound, overflowing.