Fuck Ethan

I could feel him hardening beneath me, thick and insistent, pressing against the soaked crotch of my shorts. Every slow, teasing grind of my hips made him twitch harder, the heat between us unbearable. When I paused, aligning my aching slit right over the ridge of his cock through the fabric, the friction made my whole body shudder.

Our mouths crashed together, messy and needy, our tongues sliding as our bodies rubbed shamelessly. I was drenched — not just wet, but dripping — my slick soaking through my shorts and darkening the front of his jeans. His shirt stuck to his abs where my heat had melted into him.

I broke the kiss just long enough to yank my tank top over my head, my bare breasts bouncing free. His hands were there instantly, rough palms cupping me, thumbs flicking my nipples until they were stiff and aching.

And then his mouth — fuck — his mouth latched onto one nipple, sucking hard, teeth grazing just enough to make me cry out.

The orgasm hit me like a bolt of lightning.

I threw my head back, moaning loudly, grinding against him as the pulses of pleasure rocked through my body uncontrollably.

He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my skin, and suddenly he stood — lifting me like I weighed nothing — and tossed me onto the bed.

I barely had time to gasp before he was stripping his jeans down, freeing his cock.

And holy fuck.

It was even bigger than I'd dared to imagine.

Thick. Heavy. Veins bulging along the shaft. The head flushed dark, glistening with precum.

I scrambled out of my shorts, tossed them aside, and flipped onto my stomach, arching my back, presenting myself shamelessly.

I felt his breath first, hot against my slick folds, and then his mouth — his wicked, sinful mouth — diving in, tongue stabbing deep.

I cried out, fists bunching in the sheets, as he devoured me, drinking down everything I gave him.

His fingers explored greedily, slipping between my cheeks, teasing the tight ring of my asshole, circling it lazily until I was panting, begging under my breath.

He kissed my ass, wet and filthy, and then rose behind me.

I twisted my head enough to see him lining up that massive cock with my entrance, his hand steadying the fat, throbbing head.

I thought I was ready.

I wasn't.

He pushed in slowly, agonizingly slow, stretching me wider than I'd ever been stretched.

The burn made me whimper, but I pushed back against him, **** to take it, **** to be full.

Bit by bit, inch by thick inch, he buried himself inside until his hips were flush against my ass.

We stayed like that, fused together, trembling.

Another orgasm ripped through me without warning, my cunt clenching down hard around his cock, milking it, welcoming it.

He groaned, deep and primal, and started to move.

Long, slow strokes at first — letting me feel every ridge, every vein — before picking up speed, hips slamming into mine, the sound of our bodies slapping together obscene and perfect.

He leaned over me, his chest pressed to my back, and whispered filth into my ear:

"Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna give you every drop. Gonna make you mine."

I was beyond words, whimpering, gasping, clutching the sheets like they were the only thing anchoring me.

He made me beg for it — grinding against me until I was crying out for his cum, pleading for him to breed me, to claim me.

And when he finally let go, he drove in hard and deep, cock swelling, pouring molten heat inside me.

We came together — messy, ****, perfect — bodies locked tight, trembling and gasping against each other, the air thick with sweat and the scent of sex.