Chapter 3

He lubed up his cock, then leaned down and spit directly onto my asshole.

I gasped at the suddenness of it—and the sheer filthiness that thrilled me to my core.

He slapped my spread, dripping pussy, hard.

Shockwaves of pleasure and pain tore through me, and I couldn't believe how much I loved it.

I’d never been struck like that before—and never by you.

He lined himself up, rubbing the head of his gorgeous dick against my tight virgin hole.

You had poked and teased my ass before—pressing the tip inside—but I always made you stop.

I didn’t make him stop.

I couldn’t.

(She pauses, clearing the table methodically, almost teasingly slowly as she speaks. I start to say something—maybe ask a question—but she cuts me off gently.)

“I'm doing you a favor even telling you this,” she says with a smirk. “You wanted to know. So hush and listen.”

She flashes a grin, then continues her story as she moves the plates into the sink and starts rinsing them.

I gasped and moaned as he pressed the head of his cock inside, stretching me wider than I ever imagined possible.

And then, uncontrollably, I screamed, “OH FUCK, JAKE! YES! YES! YES! MORE!”

I tried to push back, desperate to feel more of him—but he held me firmly in place.

He was in control. He owned my virginity now. And he took it.

Once he worked his thick cock all the way into me, he paused—burying himself deep—and pushed gently, letting my ass adjust around him.

I could feel his balls resting against my thoroughly-fucked pussy.

My pussy was throbbing. Pulsing. Begging for attention.

But he stayed focused on my ass.

He began fucking me with long, slow strokes.

I could feel every inch of him—invading me, stretching me, filling a place that no one—not even a toy—had ever touched before.

Oh my fucking god, it was incredible.

I started bucking against him, as best I could with my wrists still cuffed, begging and pleading.

“Use me. Fill me. Please!”

(She moves over to start wiping the countertops, talking casually—like she's narrating an ordinary day.)

(I shift uncomfortably on the barstool, feeling her words hit deep. She notices and smiles knowingly.)

There was a strange, overwhelming pressure building deep inside me. It made me feel like I would explode.

Jake comforted me through it, moaning and praising me for giving him what he’d fantasized about for years.

As the pressure grew unbearable, I screamed, “I’m gonna cum! Jake—I’m cumming!”

He encouraged me, thrusting harder, pulling my hair.

“Cum for me, whore. Cum on my cock. Let go, slut.”

And I did.

I erupted—not just an orgasm, but an explosion.

I squirted for the first time in my life—flooding his sheets, soaking everything beneath me.

It was uncontrollable, unstoppable.

I screamed, I bucked, I thrashed—and he held me tight, never letting his cock leave my ass.

(By now, she’s moved from the kitchen and we both settle onto the living room couch—her folding her legs neatly, smiling sweetly as she picks up the story without missing a beat.)

As I collapsed, trembling and overwhelmed, I heard him growl, “My turn.”

And then he began pounding my ass.

There was no gentleness now. No patience. He fucked me with raw, wild, carnal passion—and I loved every brutal second.

I started begging, “Cum in my ass! Fill me! Please!”

I chanted it like a prayer.

“I love being your slut—your whore!”

And then I felt it—him swelling, throbbing deep inside.

With one final thrust, he pushed deeper than ever before, and I felt his cock jerk as he emptied himself inside me. I could feel every pulse of his orgasm—every rope of cum shooting into my bowels.

I collapsed against the bed, panting. Spent. Owned.

He lay over me for a moment, kissing my sweaty back.

“How long can you stay?” he murmured.

“Until I’m too sore to continue,” I panted.

We stayed like that for what felt like an hour, though it was probably only minutes.

Finally, he slid his cock out of my thoroughly used ass. He uncuffed my wrists and kissed them tenderly.

“Join me in the shower when you can.”

I tried to follow immediately—but my body betrayed me. I crawled off the bed, aching, stretched, leaking, and utterly fulfilled.

I staggered into the walk-in shower, where Jake stood waiting, smiling.

“You okay?” he asked.

I grinned up at him, exhausted and blissful.

“I’m fucking wonderful. And so are you.”

Seeing his beautiful, now-clean cock dangling in front of me, instinct took over.

Without a word, I tilted my head up and eagerly sucked him into my mouth.

He groaned—low and deep. “Good girl.”

Hearing those words—good girl—made my pussy flutter again, even though it felt like my body had nothing left to give.

I licked and sucked him slowly, lovingly, savoring the taste of him as he grew hard once again between my lips.

He smiled down at me, then gently moved me to the shower bench. The water poured over my skin as he poured soap over my tits, massaging it in with strong, deliberate hands.

“Hold them together for me,” he ordered.

I squeezed my big, slippery tits tight around his cock, shivering at the sensation.

He began fucking my tits—another first.

The feeling of being used purely for his pleasure thrilled me beyond words.

I looked up at him, moaning, “I love your dick. It's beautiful and perfect.”

He grinned darkly. “You’re the perfect slut fucktoy.”

My pussy tingled again at the filthy compliment.

“Thank you. Cum all over me like a slut,” I pleaded.

He moaned, fucking between my tits faster.

“Lean back. Hold your tits up for me,” he growled.

I obeyed instantly, smiling like a giddy girl.

He gripped his cock and stroked it furiously, calling me his fucktoy, his cumdump—and at the last moment, instead of cumming on my tits, he splashed his thick, hot ropes across my face.

Some landed in my mouth. Some in my hair. All over me.

I winced, squealed, closed my eyes—but before I could react, he pressed his cock against my lips.

“Finish it up.”

I sucked him back into my mouth eagerly, swallowing the last few drops.

My hand moved instinctively to my pussy again—rubbing myself feverishly.

“That’s the slut I knew you could be,” he said, watching me feverishly touching myself. “Covered in cum and playing with your cunt like a needy little whore.”

(I shift slightly on the couch. She catches the movement from the corner of her eye but simply smirks and continues.)

I whimpered, desperate to cum—but he stopped me again.

“Get your hands off your pussy. Clean yourself up. Join me in the living room. We have much more to discuss.”

Obediently, I stopped. Even though my body screamed for release, I knew better than to disobey.

Everything he had done—everything he told me to do—had been perfect. I trusted him.

I rinsed myself thoroughly, scrubbing away the sticky mess. It took longer than I expected, but the memory of how it got there made every second erotic.

As I cleaned, I thought about everything that had happened.

Everything I had done.

Everything I had become.

There was no sadness.

No regret.

Only excitement.

I didn’t just want more.

I needed it.

I resisted the urge to touch myself again, remembering that Jake had plans for me.

I dried off carefully, stepped into the bedroom, and saw the silk robe and panties waiting for me.

I ignored them.

Instead, I walked into the living room completely naked—no modesty, no hesitation—ready for whatever my new life as his toy would bring.

To Be Continued.