I need like. Thomas breeding. Michael pent up over winter breeding. Hot summer day fucking in the car w Lester breeding. Bo under the gas station w anger issues breeding (begging)
Tw: smut, adult content, mention of murdering
It was a hot Texas evening. The sun was already setting, painting the slowly darkening sky in red and gold. The heat was corresponding. Only the steady chirping of crickets broke the dead silence of the abandoned county.
The hot Texas wind blew through the deserted streets, and you sat on the porch of the Hewitt house, watching Thomas tinker with the old pickup truck. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to the elbows, revealing the bulging veins on his tanned arms. His thick fingers were actively fiddling with the wires, and the sight made you bite your lower lip and squeeze your thighs together. His favorite jeans clung tightly to his thick ass, leaving no room for imagination.
You sighed, leaning against a post on the porch, your thoughts slowly drifting far beyond the boundaries of morality and Christian shame. Apparently, this was the time of the month when you wanted your man the most. Your desperate sigh didn't go unnoticed. Thomas looked up from his work and gazed at you, his eyes filled with soft love and concern. His breathing through the mask was labored in the heat, and the dark strands that had escaped from the low ponytail you'd tied his hair into a few hours earlier fell in carefree waves over those gentle blue eyes.
You smiled at the thought of his attention. Today, you wanted to look stunning. You were wearing the best dress you had in this damn crazy house. The light red fabric hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating your thick ass and beautiful breasts. And oh my, your womanly tummy looked very appetizing in it. But unfortunately, your husband didn't pay you much attention all day, too busy with his household chores.
You stood up from the porch and slowly approached Thomas, swaying your hips lazily. Those attentive blue eyes shyly darted from your thighs to your face and back again. Even after all this time together, Tommy couldn't get enough of you.
Your hand rested on top of the car's sun-warmed surface. You bit your lip seductively, giving your husband a slow once-over.
"Tommy, don't you like me anymore? Why don't you pay attention to me?" You said in a mock-offended tone. You knew it wasn't true. You knew your husband was just busy, but you'd been missing his attention lately.
Thomas grunted, his hand sliding to yours, intertwining his thick fingers with your slender, delicate ones. He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a wet kiss on the ring on your finger. A silent promise.
But it wasn't enough for you. You wanted the passion you had in the beginning, so wild and alive. You knew that Thomas was a gentleman when it came to his beloved woman, but right now, you wanted the rough beast inside him.
You leaned against the car, bending over in a way that gave Thomas a wide view of your accentuated cleavage. And it didn't escape his keen eye.
Thomas had been holding back all day, his patience slowly tightening like an old, rusty spring, ready to snap. You, his sweet, pretty little wife. The way you leaned against the kitchen counter, thrusting your juicy ass out. Or the way you slowly bent down to pick up the laundry that had fallen to the floor, your breasts bouncing with each movement. Or the way you slowly licked your spoon at dinner, knowing full well that he was watching. It was as if the devil himself had sent you to test his self-control, his ability to restrain his base instincts. And he tried, he really did. Thomas was well aware of his responsibilities, of protecting and providing for his family and for you. And that's exactly what this shiny ring said, which he once so gently placed on your fragile finger, when you didn't turn away from him, didn't run away, but accepted him wholeheartedly. And his thread of patience slowly cracked.
And now this revealing dress that doesn't hide anything. Your thick ass and thighs that he loved to squeeze, or that cute belly and sides that he loved to caress and bite, making you blush. Those beautiful tits that could one day feed his child. And...
And that thought was decisive. You, so beautiful and full of his child. That thought definitely did something to him.
You could see the gears turning in his head, the warm look turning darker, heavier, more hungry. And that was all you needed. You took his hand and led him home. It was getting late, so everyone was probably in their rooms, except for Monty, who might still be watching TV in the living room. You wanted to take Thomas to the basement or your bedroom, but as you passed the kitchen, something clicked in his head.
The man grabbed you in his strong arms, causing you to squeak in surprise, and dragged you into the kitchen. With a a clever move, he lifted you up and sat you on the kitchen counter. Thomas spread your legs and got on his knees, burying his face between your thighs. You smiled contentedly, leaning back and slowly lifting the hem of your dress with your free hand. Thomas noticed the beautiful lace panties he loved so much on you. A low growl escaped his throat. Your hand slid to the strap on the back of his head and gently unfastened the mask, placing it on the table. "Come on, baby. Make your mommy happy, won't you?"
He didn't need to be told twice. He pushed the fabric of your panties aside with his thick fingers, revealing your wet pussy. His control was completely gone. His face was buried in your pussy, licking your juices with such fervor, as if he had been starving for weeks and you were his only source of nourishment. His thick tongue relentlessly slid along your wet walls, his lips occasionally closing around your swollen clitoris. It was too good to be eaten by a cannibal in this way. You bit your lower lip, your body instinctively wanting to pull away from the too-intense touch, but Thomas's strong hands held you in place. Your thighs clenched around his head, causing him to growl in satisfaction. The hot knot in your stomach gradually tightened, making you whimper and writhe under your husband's insistent caresses. He caressed your wet folds, rubbing the remains of his nose against your hardened clit, and it was too much.
You came with a soft squeak as Thomas continued to devour you like a starving man. The sensation made your toes curl and sent a pleasant, sweet shiver down your thighs.
Soon, Thomas stood up from his knees, his face glistening with your juices, but he looked as content as a well-fed cat. His tongue frantically licked up whatever he could reach, and then Thomas wiped his face with the back of his hand.
He leaned forward, covering your lips with his in a desperate kiss. Your hands reflexively went to his shoulders, wrapping around his strong neck. As he continued to attack your soft lips, Thomas's hands slid down, unbuttoning his tight jeans. You broke away from him, breathing heavily, and your gaze dropped. And boy, just one look at his cock was enough to make you damn wet and needy again. It was big, bigger than average, and thick. Obviously, you would need both of your hands to wrap around him properly. His thick cock couldn't even stand up properly under its own weight. Your hand slid down, caressing the reddened head, and Thomas let out a soft moan as he leaned into your touch. It was always different from when he touched himself. Thomas was big and rough, with rough skin and a strong grip. You, on the other hand, were beautiful and gentle, with a soft touch filled with love and affection. And that's why, even after all these years, he was so hungry when he saw you.
Thomas growled at you to remove your hand and leaned closer to you. His thick cock gently rubbed against your wet folds, causing him to moan.
You let out a soft whimper as he entered you by a couple of inches. Thomas's face was buried in your shoulder as he tried to be quiet so as not to wake up his family. But it was very difficult when you felt so good.
The heat of your walls made him whimper, your pussy reflexively clenched around his length, unwilling to let go. With one hand, Thomas leaned on the countertop to avoid crushing you, his other hand rested on your belly. He gently squeezed the pliable flesh. As he continued to gently enter you, he could feel his own cock under his hand. This feeling made him growl possessively..
His hands grabbed your hips, forcing you to lie on the table and spread your legs wide. Thomas leaned forward, pressing you against the cold surface with his weight. His cock penetrated deeper in this position, almost touching your cervix and causing your eyes to water. Thomas squeezed your ass so hard that it would leave bruises, and he began to thrust forcefully into your wet pussy.
The kitchen was filled with the wet sounds of slapping and your gasps. His heavy balls banged against your ass with a loud sound, and your face was buried in Thomas's shoulder. His coarse pubic hair tickled your clit, making you whimper, and your nails scratched his back, causing Thomas's movements to become deeper. He was going to fill you with all his cum, ensuring that you would soon be full of his child. He would do it again and again until your plump belly became round, and he could feel the gentle swell of your baby under his hand. It would be his baby, his little princess or little prince. Your baby.
Thomas let out a soft growl as you came, your pussy clamping down on his cock like a vise. He came, feeling your wet heat around his over-aroused cock. Thomas gave a couple more lazy thrusts, painting your insides white. You could feel his creamy come filling you to the brim, your belly starting to bulge with the amount.
But Thomas wasn't in a hurry to pull out of you; he wanted to make sure his sperm would give you a baby. His strong arms held you close, stroking your trembling back. But damn, you finally felt so full. Even if your favorite underwear was ruined. You could almost feel your uterus being fertilized, and you knew that you and Thomas would see it in the coming months.
Winter in Haddenfield was always quiet. Very quiet. It was always like that. It was as if after a hard week of Halloween, the whole town was falling asleep with Boogeyman.
The wind was rustling outside the window, white flakes were settling in soft piles on the white windowsill.
You were sitting on the couch, reading a book, a blanket was gently wrapped around your legs. The fire in the fireplace was burning lazily, the remnants of wood were crackling loudly, creating a pleasant atmosphere. Your eyes kept sliding to Michael. His stone figure had been standing motionless by the window for half an hour, his gaze fixed on the empty street. He wasn't wearing his usual jumpsuit, but instead had on loose dark sweatpants and a black, tight-fitting T-shirt. He loved these simple, fitted outfits, not understanding the current fashion trend for looser, oversized clothing. A familiar mask covered his face. He rarely removed it, even when he was with you. It seemed to be an integral part of his identity.
Suddenly, you felt a hand on the back of your neck. It was large and warm. You didn't even hear him approach, but you didn't flinch. You'd long since become accustomed to his peculiarities. Your head reflexively tilted back at his touch. You could hear his breath, slow and heavy. His presence enveloped you like a leaden blanket. His hand slid to your throat, gently squeezing, then up to your chin, tracing the line of your jaw. He was studying you. Searching for something you couldn't quite identify. You slowly closed the book and placed it on the armrest of the couch.
You could feel your heart racing under his light touch, and your own breath growing heavier. The room was gradually getting warmer, even though the fireplace had long since gone out and the window was slightly ajar, allowing a slight breeze to enter. It was a strange, tingling sensation beneath your skin. A sense of anticipation.
With the arrival of winter, Michael always became slow, almost lethargic, like a bear that should have hibernated long ago but somehow hadn't. He was still as quiet as a ghost, but his presence was more sleepy, tangible, as if his body was storing energy for something.
The wind outside the window was starting to howl, and you could actually feel the biting cold on your skin. Michael, as if sensing your thoughts, stopped and lowered his hand.
You threw the blanket off your legs, got up from the couch, went to the window, and closed it tightly, pulling the curtains shut. The room was instantly plunged into a pleasant dimness. You could feel his eyes on you, watching, feeling. Michael clearly had something on his mind.
As soon as you turned around, you were immediately pressed against the wall by his massive body. Michael was tall enough to make you feel tiny. You could see his chest rising and falling under that tight black T-shirt. You could see the outline of his strong arms, his strong abs, and his thick thighs.
Even through the mask, you could hear his heavy breathing. His big hand rested on your cheek again, his thumb slowly sliding down your soft cheek to your neck. Looking, studying.
You could feel your heart racing, the hot candle in your belly slowly igniting into a full-blown inferno, spreading like fiery lava through your veins. You could have sworn your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. It wasn't like you'd never done this before, but it was still unfamiliar to be so... desirable in his eyes. Always. Every inch of your skin made him feel an almost instinctual hunger that never seemed to subside.
His hand slid to your thigh, found the rim of your warm pajama pants, and pulled them down. Michael's large hands wrapped around your ass, lifting you up with ease. Your arms reflexively wrapped around his neck, and your legs wrapped around his broad waist. You could feel his growing bulge through the two layers of fabric separating you, and the sensation made the heat in your body even more unbearable.
Michael rolled up the edge of his mask just enough to reveal his nose and lips. His face was covered in a light stubble, and his lips were parted in anticipation. He leaned in towards you, burying his face in your neck. You could feel his mouth on your skin, wet and hot, and he made soft noises as he left hickeys and teeth marks on your shoulder. You bit down on your lower lip, pressing your hips harder against his. Michael made a low, growling sound. His fingers dug into your flesh, likely leaving bruises.
You gripped the hair on the back of his head with your fingers, pulling him away from you. Michael grumbled in displeasure, but he obeyed. Without hesitation, you covered those swollen pink lips with a kiss.
Michael responded to your kiss with clumsy eagerness, still struggling with kissing, as if he were an animal incapable of kissing. But his inexperience was compensated by hunger and persistence.
He literally tore off your underwear and with fumbling fingers unbuttoned his own pants, pulling them down a little.
Michael pinned you against the cold wall with his weight, his hands holding you in the air like a weightless doll. He slipped two fingers into your hole. You gasp, burying your face in his shoulder. Michael's breath quickens, his fingers moving slowly but surely, causing you to whimper softly as you try to take more.
He doesn't give you time to fully adjust to the feeling of being filled, as his fingers are immediately replaced by his cock. He enters you almost halfway and pauses when he hears you hold your breath and feels your body tense. His breathing is loud and heavy, filled with desire and hunger, a need to possess you. You can feel his eyes sliding over every inch of your body, looking for even the slightest hint of permission. It's like a dog waiting for its master's approval.
Michael's hand slides down your stomach, caressing your thighs, your torso, and your chest. His touch is like burning embers, his fingers rough and scarred from years of solitude and life on the run outside the hospital. Yet there is a strange, almost loving gentleness in his touch, as if he truly wants to hurt you, to defile you, to destroy you. And yet, he wants it. He craves it like a predator craving its prey. He wants to possess you, to consume you, to never let go of you again.
Finally, you nod. Barely. A silent agreement. And the last lever in his head snaps.
Michael thrusts into you to the hilt, fast and hard. His large palm rests on your stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock inside you. A low growl escapes his chest. You whimper softly under his weight as he pins you against the wall. It was as if all the power he'd been holding back for the past couple of months since the end of autumn had been building up for this moment, to push you to the brink.
Michael moved slowly but painfully deep, turning you into a sticky mess in his arms. You buried your face in his neck, inhaling the scent of his sweat and the lingering taste of wood and blood on his skin. He pushed you against the wall, his hands leaving bruises on you as a mark of possession, and his teeth biting into your neck and shoulders, as if he were an animal trying to mark you.
You shudder under his grip, feeling a pleasant warming sensation in your body. The contrast between the cold, rough wall and his strong, hot body pushes you to the brink. Michael's cock glides perfectly against your favorite spot, as if it was made to pleasure you. His movements become deeper and more erratic, until he stills with a quiet sigh. His face is buried in your neck, his breath shallow and heavy. You feel the warm jets of his essence filling your insides. You come with a sharp, quiet squeak, clinging to him. Your body trembles, and your legs feel weak. You go limp in his arms, becoming a boneless doll in his embrace.
Michael carefully lifts you off the wall and carries you somewhere. His strong hands lay you on the couch, and you make a soft sound as his cock slides out of you. But before you can say anything, he puts your underwear back in place, making sure not a drop of his seed gets on the couch. Michael covers your body with blankets, creating a protective nest. He settles between your legs, his mask completely covering his face again. He nuzzles his nose into your stomach, his arms wrapped around your thighs. His breathing slows, as if he's falling asleep. Sleepy. Content. A well-fed predator.
You stare at the ceiling with half-closed eyes, feeling the sticky fire slowly seeping into your bones before you finally close your eyes wearily.
The heat outside was unbearable. The sun was high in the sky, and it didn't seem like it was going to set anytime soon. Even the dense trees lining the roadside couldn't shield the skin from the scorching light.
The air inside the car was hot and stuffy, and the half-dead air conditioner had given up half an hour ago, turning the already unbearable heat into a living hell. The only hope was to open the windows completely, but even that didn't help. The sun's rays penetrated from all sides, heating up the metal.
You were reclining in the back seat of the car, where there was at least a little bit of shade, and sweat was dripping down your back and neck. Even Lester's large T-shirt, which you had taken over a couple of months ago specifically for this weather, wasn't helping. Lester was sitting in the driver's seat, smoking something and staring out the window at the endless highway. The combination of cheap weed and leather made the heat in the car even more unbearable.
But there was something much hotter in your opinion. Lester. Your Lester. Wearing a loose t-shirt without his usual shirt on top, with a slight stubble that you'd helped him shave a couple of days ago, and a careless joint in his hands. He smelled like smoke, forest, and leather, a scent that had recently filled you with an indescribable sense of comfort and arousal. It was clear that your cycle had shifted again, and the hottest part of it was approaching.
Your big, clumsy, incredibly cute Lester.
You leaned forward, touching his bare shoulder with your hand, teasing his hot skin with your fingers.
He turned to you, his favorite cap slightly tilted to the side. "Hot, huh?"
His voice was hoarse from smoking, making you squeeze your thighs together, feeling the warmth building inside.
Your fingers deftly grabbed his cap and placed it on your head. You leaned back in the back seat with a slight grin, "Like hell."
Lester chuckled and took another drag. He extinguished the joint and threw it in the ashtray. The man got out of the car, slamming the door shut with force, and walked over to your side of the car. You bit your lower lip in anticipation, turning around in your seat and reflexively spreading your thighs slightly, trying to look as innocent as possible.
He got into the seat next to you, having to crouch down a lot to fit. "You need to cool down, sweetheart."
His large hand rested on your knee, moving it to the side. The other hand gripped the plush seat, leaning over you and covering your lips with his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and returned the kiss. You exhaled raggedly, feeling his taste on your tongue. A mix of weed and the mint candies you put in his car's glove compartment every week. Your fingers tangled in his short hair, damp with sweat. His lips were rough from biting them so often, a habit from their early years in school. Lester's body felt good against you, like a weighted blanket that you'd been missing to make you feel good.
His hand slid up from your knee, stroking the inside of your thigh. His fingers hooked into the edge of your loose shorts, gently pulling them down. You lifted your hips obediently, allowing him to free you from the unnecessary layers of clothing. Lester whistled, his eyes skimming over the fabric of the lingerie he loved so much on you.
"You've been preparing for me, haven't you, little deer?"
He rubbed his finger over the silky strip, drawing a ragged breath from you. "For you. Always for you."
The heat in the car became almost unbearable. Lester grinned, a mischievous light in his eyes.
Lester moved your underwear aside, and you shuddered slightly at the feel of his hot breath on your delicate skin. He moved slowly. His rough lips found the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of sweet kisses, while his fingers, accustomed to metal and engine oil, moved with surprising gentleness, finding your most sensitive spots.
"Like this... That's it, little deer. You're burning up for me."
He pulled off your shirt, his hot lips finding your hardened nipple, wrapping around it and teasing it with his tongue. He knew your body better than you did. He knew how to make you squirm on the sweaty seat, hoping for more.
"Lest, please..." You didn't know if you were begging him to continue or to stop, your body writhing under his skilled touch, your chest heaving for air.
The man grinned, removing his fingers and wiping them on his trousers. "I'll cool you down, baby."
Lester quickly unbuttoned his own trousers, removing his belt and zipper, and pulled out his already hardened cock. Your breath caught at the sight, and your body shuddered with anticipation.
With one hand, he lifted your hips, while the other caressed his cock, aligning it with your eager hole. He entered you softly, carefully, and you moaned raggedly at the unexpected sensation. Lester cursed, nuzzling your neck. His lips pressed against your skin reflexively, and his tongue playfully licked your sweat. His pupils dilated, and his breathing quickened.
"You're really burning up... there... Ugh," he moved forward, his hands squeezing your thighs. In a few thrusts, he's all the way in, and you're purring from the pleasure, your ankles wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. Lester presses against you. He moves slowly, gently, already familiar with your most sensitive spots. The lubrication on his cock makes it easier for him to thrust.
The car rocks with your movements, and the sun shines through the wet windows, illuminating your intertwined bodies.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips mumbling nonsense.
"That's it, little deer..." His voice was hoarse but still soft, "You take me so well... so tight and good for me."
He knew his voice drove you crazy, knew those words turned you on. Knew that your dirty, mind-consuming fantasy made you bite your lip in anticipation. And that made him want to say them even more.
One of his big hands slid down to your still-small belly, gently rubbing the tender skin. He could feel his own cock straining against his pants.
"Just like that, yeah," Lester whispered in your ear. His voice was filled with obsession and possessiveness, "I want a part of me inside you. Do you understand? You'll take it like a good little girl, won't you?"
You could only nod nervously, leaning back in the seat. You closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling a familiar shiver run through your body like a soft electric shock. Warmth spread through your veins, curling into a tight spiral low in your belly.
Lester picked up the pace, his hips moving in a passionate rhythm against yours. The air was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, and your body was covered in sweat, and it seemed to be soaked in Lester's scent, as if you were becoming one. You whimpered at the thought, burying your face in his neck. The man kissed your hair.
"Yes, that's it. Such a good little deer. Taking me so well... I'll fill you to the brim, my sweet. You'll walk... mm... walk with my seed. So beautiful... full of baby. Our baby."
It was all too much, and you felt a burning heat explode in your body, making your toes curl. You whimpered, feeling too sensitive around his cock. Lester groaned, giving a couple more hard thrusts and coming with a muffled growl. Warmth spread through the bottom of your belly, filling your insides.
"Yes! Like that... Like that, my love, take it all."
Lester pressed you against the wet seat, breathing heavily. His lips left lazy kisses on your chest and collarbone. He feels good, drunk on you and your love.
After a couple of minutes, he pulls out of you with a quiet hiss, and his cum spills onto the seat beneath you. "Damn... I have some tissues somewhere," he mutters, not wanting to lose sight of you so quickly.
His hand returns to the bottom of your stomach, this time with a gentler touch, as if there was something precious inside that both of you had been longing for.
"Maybe it's already..." Lester whispered, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "How about a cold beer, little deer?"
You were doing everything you usually did, playing the role of the cutest thing that would get the next victim to bite before one of the twins could kill them. But something was different this time. Maybe this guy was standing a little too close than necessary. Or maybe his hand was a little too low on your lower back. Or maybe it was your cute, flirty voice.
Now you were sitting on a chair at Bo's gas station, your wrists tightly bound with a rope, preventing you from removing your hands from the armrests. Your wrists were burning, and you were breaking out in a cold sweat. Bo was circling you like a predator, holding a sharp kitchen knife that you had used earlier that morning to carve meat for baking with vegetables in the oven. There were traces of something red on the cold steel.
Bo was wearing his signature overalls and his trademark cap with a funny picture on it. This did not make the situation any easier.
Bo stopped in front of you, his hand gripping your hair in a tight fist, the strands pulling painfully against your scalp, making you squeak softly. "You've played enough, doll. So hungry for attention, huh?"
You didn't respond. His voice was rough and low, filled with anger and something else. Jealousy. Fear.
Bo released your hair. He took a step back. His chest was heaving, and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, causing his wavy hair to stick to his forehead.
"Oh, I'll bring your new boyfriend," he snorted with venomous malice and left the room for a moment.
He returned immediately. Beau was dragging the same guy who was desperately flirting with you ten minutes ago by the collar of his shirt. Right now, his appearance has caused nothing but disgust in your soul. He threw the guy on the concrete floor, the victim hissed quietly from the resulting abrasion. "Well, how do you like it now? Not so brave anymore."
You didn't know if it was directed at you or the poor guy. I think his name was Max. Mark. It didn't really matter.
Bo moved the unfortunate man's body so that he was lying almost directly in front of you, and he sat on his thighs. Bo lifted his head by the short hair on the back of his neck and pulled him closer. There was a noticeable wound on the guy's cheek from kissing the floor. Bo pressed the guy's head against his chest, and you could see Mark's eyes darting around the room, searching for a way out. Finally, they settled on you. His eyes widened. Bo smirked. He had been waiting for this.
"See, baby, this is what happens when you try to hit on someone else's partner, right?" Bo purred in a mocking tone, pressing the tip of the knife against the guy's healthy cheek. He clicked his tongue. "Bad boy. Your mother didn't teach you any manners?"
Bo pressed the knife deeper and slowly moved it up, leaving a bleeding wound on Mark's face. Mark immediately burst into tears and begged for mercy. Bo aimed higher, but the knife slipped due to the excessive tears, embedding itself in the corner of Mark's eye socket. Mark let out a scream.
"Well... There's nothing I can do about it. You should be a man and not cry. Pathetic."
Bo pressed the knife in, and the socket turned into a real mess. Apparently, not impressed by the victim's reaction, Bo pulled the knife out and with a slashing blow cut the boy's throat. The guy's head fell limply to the concrete, the floor gradually growing a dark red puddle.
Bo disgustedly wiped the blood on the corpse's clothes and stood up, slowly approaching you. With a knife, he cut the ropes, his free hand resting on your neck. "You see what happens to people who misbehave, little one."
His fingers on your neck burned like hot steel. A slight electric shock ran through your body, and you reflexively rose up on your toes, following his hand. Bo's thumb caressed the pulsing vein on your throat. His grip was not strong enough to cause pain, but it was enough to make your knees tremble. Your mind was filled with his scent, a mixture of gasoline and the old-fashioned cigarettes he often smoked.
"Look," his voice was as hard as steel, but there was a certain pain in it, "Look at what you've done. You've made me do that. With your smiles, your laughter..."
His hand slid lower, his fingers caressing your shoulders and collarbones. Slowly, as if he were exploring his own domain.
"He thought he could take you away. He thought you were just a sweet little thing he could take out of this city... Idiot." Bo leaned closer, his lips touching your temple with surprising tenderness, "But you're mine, aren't you? My sweet little doll. All mine. No one gets to look at you the way he did."
With a sudden movement, he forced you to turn around and lean against the the ill-fated chair. You made a soft sound, leaning on the arm of the chair. Bo leaned in close to your ear, his hand squeezing your ass, "But I'm going to show you what happens to bad little girls who make eyes at other men."
The sound of a knife hitting the concrete. It rolled under a cabinet with a thud. His rough hand cupped your thigh, lifting your skirt up. His breath was hot and uneven, burning the back of your neck. Bo's finger traced the inside of your thigh, grazing the strip of fabric. "This is how he wanted to touch you, isn't it? Like this... here..." his hand settled between your legs, rubbing your sensitive clit. Your body responded instinctively, and Bo chuckled as he felt the moisture soaking your panties. "Like this. Only I can touch you here, baby. Only me."
Bo pushed your panties aside, caressing your throbbing clit. His touch was rough and insistent, making you whimper. His lips on your neck made it even harder to hold back. Two of his fingers were inside you, gently but insistently stretching you open. You whimpered softly, your hot pussy clenching around his fingers like a fiery vise. Bo hissed, biting your shoulder, "I'm gonna make sure you never think about anyone else. You're gonna carry a part of me inside you. All the time. I'm going to make you a baby, dear. Isn't that what you wanted with your little stunt?"
Bo pulled his fingers out and pulled the thin lace off you, the panties tearing with a silky crack. You shuddered, feeling the cool air on your most sensitive places. Bo pressed himself against you from behind, rubbing the rough fabric of his jumpsuit unpleasantly against your delicate skin. He moved quickly. His hands deftly unbuttoned his uniform, and you felt him, hard and hot, pressing against your bare crotch.
Bo made a couple of movements along the length of his cock before the tip slipped inside your pussy, his strong hands squeezing your hips. You let out a long moan, burying your face in your hands folded on the back of the chair, "Bo.."
"Yes... You're taking me so well. Have you been dreaming about this all day, dirty girl?" He hissed, slapping your ass.
Bo didn't give you much time to get used to the feeling of being full, setting a fast pace. His fingers dug into your skin, leaving bruises, and your hungry pussy sloshed around his thick cock. You moaned, arching your back in an erotic way as the head of his cock slid along your sweet spot.
Bo chuckled, enjoying the sight, "You're such a naughty little thing. Only mine."
He wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, his finger rubbing your swollen clit, "You're such a dirty little thing. Do you want me to fill you up? I'll fill you to the brim, so your pussy will be dripping with my cum for weeks. You'll carry it in your beautiful pussy, won't you? As my cum flows down your beautiful legs."
Bo bit your earlobe, feeling you tighten around his cock. His pupils dilated, his breathing grew heavier.
His words were filled with animalistic lust and possessiveness. You whimpered, your hips moving reflexively against his strong hand.
"Yes, that's it. Come for me like a good girl. Come for me while I fill your womb raw. You'll be full of my baby, so beautiful and round."
You felt a pleasant wave of fire shoot through you, and the lava coiled into a thick knot in your lower abdomen, cracking open and spreading throughout your body with a pleasant feeling of satisfaction. Your limbs went numb, and you collapsed in his arms. Bo paused for a moment, feeling your orgasm. He stared at you in awe.
He came after that. A couple of rough thrusts and he came deep inside you with a soft growl, biting your shoulder.
"There you go.. My good girl. You'll be such a wonderful mommy to our child."
Bo dressed you carefully and sat on a chair, placing you on his lap. You lay in his arms, breathing heavily in a half-sleep. He gently stroked your thigh, using his free hand to bring a cigarette to his lips and take a drag. Then he handed it to you, grinning, "Come on, pretty mommy, don't sleep. We still have to deal with this ugly corpse, remember?"
> Sry that took a lot of time!! I couldn't find the right inspiration 😔💔
