novelbest Chapter 272- Painted her Womb
Chapter 272- Painted her Womb
His hand left her wrists.
Both hands moving to her chest.
Finding both breasts.
His mouth came down.
He bit both nipples simultaneously.
Not together — his mouth on the left, his fingers on the right, both applying pressure at the same moment, the bite and the pinch arriving at the same instant.
"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! ’BASTARD’~!! OUNGH~!!"
PAH! PAH! PAAAH!
Her breasts bounced.
Both of them, released from his hands for one stroke, jiggling with the impact of his hips against her body, the full warm weight of them moving with the rhythm, the nipples pointing upward and dark red between the wet marks of his mouth.
Her hands had come back down from above her head.
One gripping his shoulder.
One in his hair.
Both holding.
Not pushing.
Not anymore.
The foam.
It appeared at the base of his cock first.
The thin, white accumulation of a tight cunt being used at pace — her walls gripping him so thoroughly, the friction so sustained, that the combined slick had worked into the specific texture visible around the root of his shaft on every withdrawal, coating him in the filthy, honest evidence of how completely she was taking him.
A ring of white and red around his base.
Building with every stroke.
He looked at it between thrusts.
Felt it.
The specific sensation of foam around a cock — the thin, airy texture of it, the way it cooled slightly with each withdrawal and warmed again on every return, the wet sound of it audible above her cries.
PAH! PAH! PAH!
"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! NGH~!! OUNGH~!! ’I CANNOT’~!!"
She was going to come.
She knew it the way you know things that are happening to your body before they happen — the gathering pressure deep in her pelvis, the tightening at her lower abdomen that had nothing to do with her intentions and everything to do with his cock finding the same angle on every third stroke that pressed directly against the front wall of her cunt.
’I don’t want to.’ ’Not with him.’ ’Not after everything he did in that other life.’ ’Not while I’m crying.’ ’Not while I can still feel the memory of being left to die by this exact man in this exact body.’
PAH! PAH! PAH! PAH!
"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!!"
Her cunt clenched.
Her whole body went rigid.
Both thighs clamping around his hips, her heels pressing into the back of his legs, every muscle below her waist contracting at the same instant in the full-body seize of an orgasm that had arrived without her permission.
She squirted.
Hard.
A pressurised jet that hit his lower abdomen and ran between them, soaking the base of his cock, the front of her thighs, the leather beneath her, the spray audible as a distinct sound above everything else.
"AAAAAAAHHH~!! HIIEEK~!! NGH~!! ’I HATE YOU’~!! OUNGH~!!"
Her walls.
The pulsing, milking clench of an orgasming cunt around his cock — rhythmic, deep, her interior gripping and releasing in long waves that ran from her entrance to the back of her walls, squeezing his shaft from every direction.
He kept going.
PAH! PAH! PAAAH!
Driving through every pulse.
Through every clench.
His hips maintaining their pace through her entire orgasm, her walls trying to slow him and failing, the foam at his base thickening with the additional slick of her squirt.
He came.
His hips pressed to the absolute base.
Fully seated. His cockhead against her cervix. His balls pressed flat against her ass.
And the load released.
Directly.
Thick. Hot. Continuous. Rope after rope of seed firing against her cervix in long, sustained pulses, each one pressing forward against the entrance of her womb with the accumulated force of a body that had been building toward this since the moment her mouth found his cock in this seat.
She felt every one.
Her cervix.
Warm. Wet. The heat spreading outward from the point of impact through her lower abdomen in slow, radiating circles.
Her eyes were rolled completely.
"AAAAAHHH~!! ’HOT’~!! HIIEEK~!! ’INSIDE’~!! OUNGH~!!"
He groaned.
The low, deep, honest sound of a man finishing somewhere he genuinely wanted to finish.
He didn’t stop.
His hips pulled back.
And drove forward again.
His cock — still hard, barely diminished, slick with seed and blood and her squirt — drove the load he had just deposited deeper with the first return stroke.
Her walls clenched on the wet.
The cum making a sound now on every stroke — a deeper, slicker, more obscene version of before, the seed mixing with the blood and her slick in the channel, being pushed forward on every entry and running out on every withdrawal in thin, milky rivulets that ran down between her cheeks onto the soaked seat.
PAH! PAH! PAH!
"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! NGH~!! ’YOU CAME’~!! OUNGH~!!"
"The first cream pie," he said.
He said it the way he said everything. Flat. Even. The simple observation of a man acknowledging a fact.
Her eyes, half-rolled, came back enough to find his face.
"Of our journey," he finished.
She gasped.
The specific, full-chest gasp of a woman who has received a sentence her body registered before her brain caught up with it.
’Our journey.’ ’He said our journey.’
No time to process it.
His hips blurred.
PAH! PAH! PAH! PAH!
"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!! NGH~!!"
He was fucking her through his own cum.
Every stroke pushing his seed deeper — driving it past the point where gravity would have taken it, pressing it against her cervix again and again with the specific, deliberate intention of a man who wants it where it cannot easily leave.
Her inner walls.
The raw, over-sensitized tissue of a cunt that had just had its first orgasm and had not been given a moment’s pause — each stroke registering with the heightened, almost unbearable precision of a nervous system that had used up its buffer and was now receiving everything directly.
"AAANGHH~!! ’TOO SENSITIVE’~!! HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!!"
He grabbed her nipples.
Both of them.
Not kneading.
Pulling.
His fingers closing around both peaks and dragging them upward, her breasts stretching with the pull, the nipples extending outward to their limit while his hips kept driving below.
"AAAAHHH~!! HIIEEK~!! ’LET GO’~!! OUNGH~!! NGH~!!"
She grabbed his wrists.
Both hands trying to pry his fingers from her nipples.
He pulled harder.
The stretch becoming the specific bright, sharp note of pain that sat directly beside an entirely different sensation and shared its frequency.
Her cunt clenched around him.
Hard.
The involuntary grip of a body that had just had its pain and pleasure wires crossed and had decided to respond to both simultaneously.
PAH! PAH! PAAAH!
"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! NGH~!! OUNGH~!!"
Her body was a rag doll.
That was the honest description of what was happening to her — her whole frame bouncing with his rhythm, her head moving against the door behind her with every forward push, her breasts bouncing in his grip, her hips lifting slightly off the seat on every deep stroke and dropping back down when he withdrew.
The SUV was shaking.
The suspension registering the rhythm through the chassis, the subtle, continuous movement of a vehicle whose rear axle was receiving information about what was happening in the back seat.
Through the partition.
The driver.
Neither focused nor able to pretend that the partition provided the kind of insulation that the current situation required.
The sounds were too comprehensive for that.
He noted it.
Felt something that was not quite amusement but occupied the same general territory.
Drove in harder.
PAH! PAH! PAH! PAH! PAAAH!
"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!! NGH~!! ’CRUXIUS’~!!"
He lifted her leg.
One hand finding the back of her right knee, pushing it upward and sideways — her body twisting with the motion, rolling from fully-on-her-back to a diagonal, her right leg now over his left shoulder while her left remained flat against the seat.
The angle changed.
Entirely.
His cock pressing through a new wall, the sideways tilt of her pelvis opening a different path, his crown finding a place in her it hadn’t reached before.
"AAAAAHHH~!! ’WHAT IS’~!! HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!!"
He fucked her faster.
The new angle allowing it — her body presented sideways, less resistance, his cock driving through the adjusted channel at a pace that the previous position hadn’t permitted.
PAH! PAH! PAH! PAH! PAH!
"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! NGH~!! OUNGH~!!"
The seed was running now.
From the entrance, down the curve of her ass, soaking the cotton of the panties still pulled aside, dripping from the fabric’s edge onto the seat in slow, thick drops that joined the spreading dark stain on the leather.
Blood and seed and slick.
All mixed.
All hers.
All his.
The combined record of the last twenty minutes sitting beneath them in the permanent evidence of what the back seat of this vehicle had witnessed.
He pulled out.
Fully.
The withdrawal sudden and complete, his cock clearing her entrance with the wet, audible drag of a shaft leaving a well-used body, and the immediate flood of what had been dammed up inside her — seed and blood and her own slick running from the open entrance in a thick, continuous stream, pooling beneath her.
She gasped at the emptiness.
The specific, involuntary gasp of a body registering the sudden absence of something it had been accommodating for twenty minutes — her entrance clenching on air, her walls contracting and finding nothing, the pulse of her cunt visible from outside as the ring of her entrance opened and closed in small, helpless rhythms.
His cock.
Still fully hard. Glistening. Coated from base to tip in the combined evidence of her — blood drying at the base, seed running down the shaft, slick making the whole surface mirror-wet in the interior light.
He looked at it.
Then at her.