Take her from behind

“Wha-?” Alison clearly is not expecting me to pull out of her just as she climaxes.

“Oh don't worry, Angel.” I chuckle cruelly as I reposition her on her hands and knees. “Now that I've taken the fight out of you, it's time for me to show you something new.”

“I'm sorry, Sir.” Alison looks back at me over her shoulder, and to be honest I'm not sure if the look of confusion in her eyes is an impressive display of acting, or if her her sheltered upbringing has left her completely unprepared for this kind of fucking. “I don't know what you want.”

“That's because all your life you thought you'd be a man's cherished wife.” I growl as I place my hands on her hips and pull her back against me, trapping my throbbing manhood between my loins and her ass. “Well, that's all changed hasn't it?” I work my way back into her, in spite of how tight her teenaged pussy is she is so juiced up that I push in smoothly, stretching her open with my girth. “You're not a precious woman of virtue any longer.” Her moan could be either from the novel sensation of being skewered from behind or a reaction to my monologue or perhaps even both, but it is music to my ears. “Your city has fallen, and now you are mine. Not as a bride, but as a slavegirl to use as I like.”

“Not like this, Sir.” She moans softly, “Not like I'm just a animal to be bred.” I grab her hair and pull her head back sharply as I drive as deep as I can into her.

“That's exactly what you are, girl.” I laugh harshly, “I'm going to put my seed in your ripe womb again and again and watch as your belly swells with my warrior sons.” Alison's whimper is a mixture of terror and sheer carnal lust. With her views on abortion and her ambitions to change the world, I was expecting a renewed struggle until I explained to her about my vasectomy. To my surprise, instead of fighting me, the idea of a **** pregnancy only seems to add to her excitement and the bucking and twisting of her ass are timed to increase the depth of each hard stroke.

“What if they aren't boys?” In spite of her sexual excitement, Alison is as interested in my coarse threat as she is in the feeling of my fist in her hair and cock pounding her sex.

“If they're as pretty as you,” I whisper softly, “I'll let you keep them until they've matured enough to sell off as playthings to some horny old goat.”

“No, please.” She wails, “not that!” I spite of her protests I can feel the rippling of her inner muscles clenching my cock like a vice-grip. The added pressure brings me closer and closer to a mind shattering finale, more to the point Alison is also once again right at the edge herself.

“You'd better give me sons then.” I grunt, barely able to hold back. “If you don't I'll let my servants breed you, and I'll deflower your pretty daughters myself!” With that twisted mental image I collapse onto her back and we both end up gasping on her bed as wave after wave of pleasure wash over us.

“Oh my Heavens, Mr. P,” she gasps when she finally catches her breath enough to speak, “you are a truly wicked man!” With a sudden flurry of motion, she twists in my arms until she is facing me and her doe-eyes search mine with an intensity that I am not used to. I feel her small hands find my member that is still firm enough that she is able to push it back into her stretched out pussy.

“You may have done it, you know.” She sees the confusion on my face and explains. “You might have planted your seed in my womb. I might be pregnant...”