In the vast universe, the history of humanity was but a flash of light from a lone star. The life of a single person could be lost in space and time. But among the stars, there was one light that burned brighter than all others. The light of Samus Aran. Her battles extended beyond her life, and etched themselves into history.
"CUMMIIIING~!!!"
…yes, even this battle.
"Nggghhh~!! I won't—! T-this thing—! I won't lose—!"
Samus Aran let her actions speak more than her words. Samus did not do hook-ups.
"Gah! Nggghghh!! Your cock is throbbing! I-it's stretching me out! Gah! Unh~! You're going to make me cuuuuum~!!!"
Tonight was an exception.
Fourteen inches of dick were ruining her pussylips. The great bounty hunter could feel every single, impossible inch of this dick. The bedframe was crying out in tortured groans, a frantic percussion against the wall of the small apartment. This wasn't her place. Oh no, this bed and everything inside the walls belonged to the stud currently pounding away at her. At her, Samus Aran, a blonde gal that did not know defeat, that saved the galaxy, that—
"I'mgonnacryit feelssogood—!"
Right. What was she again? Samus was forgetting?
Her hands, usually gripping a plasma cannon or the controls of her gunship, were now white-knuckled in the rumpled sheets. Her back was arched so severely it felt like it might snap, her shoulders grinding into the mattress with every world-shattering thrust. The fucking size of this dick was a challenge her body was losing, gloriously.
Her pussy was experiencing the stretch of his wrist-sized girth. Each time the stud pulled back, her inner walls clung to him, a wet, hot suction that made him groan, and each time he drove forward, it was a brutal, delicious reclamation. The art of fucking was a white-hot wire pulled taut from her clit to the base of her spine, fraying and sparking with every impact. Samus could feel the mushroom-like head of this manly cock battering against a place deep inside her she hadn't known existed. From fingertips to toes, it changed her. It made her weak. Her own cries were foreign to her ears—high, ragged, and utterly desperate.
After making her cum a dozen times—or was it twenty? Time had dissolved into a slurry of sweat and sensation—the stud was finally nearing his own end. His hips slammed into hers with a new, urgent finality. His hands, which had been gripping her hips so hard she'd have bruises shaped like his fingers tomorrow, moved to cup her face. Was she some common slut? No. Should she have allowed this random man to do this to her? No.
She was Samus. She was fucking Samus! Letting some dude grab her face and…and…
"Mmm…"
His thumb stroked her cheek.
"But…but…"
He tilted her head back, forcing her to look into his eyes, which were glazed with a pleasure so intense it mirrored her own.
"I'm gonna, haah, Aran… I'm gonna fill you up."
Samus' eyes rolled back. The use of her real name, here, in this moment, alongside the visceral promise, was the final trigger. Another orgasm, smaller but sharp, ripped through her as he buried himself to the hilt and held there. She felt the hot, sudden flood deep inside her. He was cumming inside her. Cum ravaging her cunt and going alll the way to her womb. For a single, suspended moment, all she wanted was his cum. She wanted him to keep cumming inside her.
As the intense waves began to recede, leaving her boneless and buzzing, her mind drifted back. Back to the beginning of this insane, wonderful, filthy night. Back to when she met this fan.
….
…
…
THREE HOURS EARLIER
The cantina served cheap synth-ale and fried Gorlak tubers and whatever hell else. A dozen different species were packed in the low-ceilinged space. Neon signs advertising various interstellar beers flickered against a wall stained by years of smoke and spilled drinks. Samus Aran sat at the bar, a solitary woman in the sea of drunken men. There were a handful of other women, but none with the bright blonde hair or figure she had.
She was in what passed for civilian wear on the backwater planet of Dhor-V: a tight, hot orange top that left her toned midriff bare and a pair of orange shorts that highlighted her long, athletic legs. Her blonde hair was down, a loose golden cascade that fell around her shoulders, and she'd foregone any obvious weapons. She called herself Aran here. Just Aran.
Around her, men of various humanoid builds eyed her with a mixture of lust and wariness. They were drunk and stupid, but over the past two nights, the blonde woman had gathered a reputation. A reputation for being breathtakingly beautiful and for having a right hook—and a knee—that moved with the speed and precision of a particle beam. Three men had learned the hard way that approaching her with anything less than respect resulted in a very personal, very painful introduction to the floor. Their balls were still probably aching.
The men also didn't have a clue who she really was. To them, the real Samus Aran was a myth, a phantom. A hulking figure in impossible armour, a boogeyman hired by the Federation to clean up messes too nasty for their regular troops. The idea that the legendary bounty hunter was currently sipping a mildly intoxicating fruit blend three stools down was so ludicrous it never crossed their minds. Especially considering they often called her, "that blonde babe," or "overconfident slut".
The misogyny on this planet was strong, it seemed. Lazily, Samus listened to a conversation at a nearby table.
"I'm tellin' you, Grak, the whole outpost was just gone! Scorched earth! They say it was her." A burly man with tusks slapped the table.
"Samus? Here? On Dhor-V? Don't be a fool," another snorted. "That's like saying you saw Santa Claus riding Bigfoot. She's a story they tell to scare space pirates."
"Grak, you're genuinely stupid! Genuinely!"
"And you're gullible!"
The juxtaposition never got old. Being lumped in with mythical gift-givers and cryptids as an urban legend was a special kind of ironic privacy she'd learned to cherish. Samus took another sip, the cool liquid soothing her throat. The bounty had been simple, a pirate lieutenant hiding in the ammonia mines. Quick, clean, profitable. The rumours, as they always did, had inflated it into an epic battle that leveled mountains.
'There was a damaged mountain from his superweapon, nothing more. I destroyed it afterward.'
The bartender polished a mug with a cloth. He gave her a slight, knowing nod. He knew. Or at least, he knew she was trouble he didn't need in his bar. He kept her glass filled and his beak shut.
Which was when the young man slid onto the stool next to her.
He didn't even look at the blonde at first. He was buzzing with a different kind of energy. He was human, probably mid-twenties, with messy brown hair and an open, earnest face. He wore simple, durable clothes—a grey jacket over a dark shirt. He'd been in here the last two nights as well, always alone, always nursing one drink while reading something on a data-pad. He'd glanced at her, sure, any man with a pulse would, but he'd never approached. He wasn't here for her.
'What was his name?' Samus tried to recall. She couldn't. Ah well.
"Tirok! The usual, please," he said to the bartender, his voice bright. As the Chozo-kin nodded and began mixing, the young man couldn't contain himself. He swiveled on his stool, facing the bartender more than Samus. "You hear the news? The talk out of the Eastern Steppes?"
Tirok the bartender made a noncommittal grunt.
"It's about Samus! Samus the Hunter! There's chatter on the civilian bands—someone matching her ship's signature was tracked leaving the atmosphere near the mining provinces hours after the pirate outpost went dark. It has to be her. She was here. On our planet!"
His excitement was genuine, boyish. It was so utterly devoid of the typical lechery or fear that coloured most conversations about her that Samus felt a flicker of curiosity. She kept her eyes on her drink, but her head tilted slightly, listening.
Tirok placed a fizzy blue drink in front of him. "Rumours. Always rumours."
"But this feels different," the young man insisted, leaning forward. "The descriptions of the destruction… it's precise. Not wanton. That's her signature, right? Surgical strikes. That's what the legit reports always say."
Samus couldn't help it. She spoke up. "You seem to know a lot about her."
He finally turned to look at her, as if noticing her for the first time. His eyes, a warm hazel, widened just a fraction, taking in her appearance. A faint blush crept up his neck. "Oh! Uh, yeah. I guess. I'm a bit of a… well, an enthusiast."
"An enthusiast," Samus repeated with a tiny smile. "Most people are either terrified or think she's a fairy tale. You sound like a fan."
He grinned, sheepish but unashamed. "Guilty. Name's Ben. And yeah, I'm probably her biggest fan. I've followed every declassified mission report, every piece of hardware analysis the Federation leaks… it's incredible, what one person can do."
Samus swirled her drink. "What if she's not all the reports say? What if Samus Aran is just… a hunter? Maybe not even the person you imagine."
Ben didn't hesitate. He took a sip of his drink and shook his head. "Doesn't matter. The actions are what count. And the actions point to someone with a serious moral compass and the skills to back it up. Besides…" He lowered his voice conspiratorially, leaning a little closer. Samus caught a clean, soap-like scent from him, unlike the general bar funk. "I think she is a girl. A woman."
"...you think so?"
Huh, she thought she did a good job keeping Samus the Hunter genderless.
"Yeah! The armour's design, the gait analysis from some of the blurry vids… it scans. A badass woman cleaning up the galaxy's worst scum. That's way cooler than some gruff dude. I wish I could meet her…"
The statement, delivered with such sincere conviction, struck her. Samus averted her gaze. "Hm. Can't be that cool."
"I think it's that cool!"
Hm.
Here, in this grimy bar, was someone who saw past the myth and saw to a principle he admired. It was… refreshing. Ben was clearly a sweet young man. Naive, perhaps, but sweet.
The conversation at the nearby table, however, was taking a turn.
"Biggest fan of a ghost," the tusked man, Grak, boomed, having overheard Ben. He lurched over, his bulk casting a shadow over them. "Samus Aran is a Federation attack dog. A murderer for hire. She probably leveled that outpost for the credits and didn't care who was inside."
Ben's posture stiffened. The shy fanboy vanished, replaced by someone with a spine. He turned on his stool to face Grak. "You don't know what you're talking about. Every verified engagement shows restraint against non-combatants. She targets pirates, bioweapons, existential threats. She's not a dog, she's a… a defender."
Grak laughed, a nasty, wet sound. "A guardian? Listen to the kid! He's in love with a storybook monster." His friends chuckled. One of them, a wiry man with scarred lips, added, "Maybe the bounty hunter's your mommy, kid. You need one?"
Ben stood up, his fists clenching at his sides. "You can insult me, but show some respect. Her work keeps routes like the one that brings your damn ale here safe."
"Or what, pup? You gonna fight us? For a woman who wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire?" Grak stepped closer, the threat physical now.
Samus watched, calculating. Ben had heart, but he was outmatched in size, number, and likely experience. This was a stupid fight about a stupid topic, and he was going to get hurt for no reason. Her anonymity was a shield, but it also meant she couldn't end this with her name. Not directly.
So Samus decided to do something. Why not? Ben had piqued her interest. The blonde uncoiled from her stool and in one smooth step was next to Ben. She didn't look at the drunk Grak. She wrapped one arm around Ben's shoulders. Her other hand came up and pressed flat against his chest. The feel of her breasts against his arm through their clothes was immediate and deliberate.
"Hey." Her stunning stoic face was close to his. Ben froze, his angry defiance evaporating under the sudden, intimate proximity of the beautiful blonde he'd been trying not to stare at all night. "This isn't a battle worth fighting. Trust me."
Her eyes held his. They were a deep blue, and in them he saw not fear or pleading, but a cool, absolute certainty.
Ben stammered. "I… but they…"
"They're drunk and they're nobodies," Samus said, her voice still low. "Come on."
Samus applied gentle pressure, turning him, and guided him towards the door. Grak sputtered behind them, "Hey! We weren't done!" but Samus didn't even glance back. Tirok the bartender was suddenly standing taller, a silent message to Grak to let it go. The moment passed. Ben and Samus pushed through the heavy, stained door and emerged into the night air of Dhor-V's main settlement.
The night market was quiet tonight. Two moons hung in the purple-black sky, one large and cratered, the other a slim crescent. The buildings were squat and made of a local, rust-coloured stone, with glowing fungus providing soft illumination along the winding streets.
Ben took a deep, shuddering breath, the adrenaline leaving him. He looked at the woman whose arm was still around him. "Thanks. I… I probably would've gotten my face smashed in."
"Probably," Samus agreed, finally releasing him. She leaned against the rough stone wall of the cantina, studying him. The orange top seemed to glow in the fungal light. "You're passionate about your hero."
He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Yeah. Sorry. It's dumb."
"It's not."
"Still, you're my hero. Uh, what was your name?"
"...Aran."
"Oh! I heard that's Samus' last name!"
"Uh-uh." She paused. "You have a place around here? Somewhere those goons won't stumble into?"
Ben's eyes widened again. "Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I do. It's not far. Just a few blocks. I'm a grad student, studying xeno-archeology. The university provides housing."
A scholar, Samus thought. It fit. "Lead the way."
He did, walking beside her in a slightly dazed silence. The streets were still moderately busy with night market traffic: vendors selling glowing trinkets, sizzling street food, and pirated tech modules. They turned down a quieter lane lined with dome-shaped residential units, each with a small, bioluminescent garden out front. Ben stopped at one, tapping a code into a panel. The door slid open with a hiss.
"Home sweet home," he said, gesturing her inside.
The interior was exactly what she'd expected from a dedicated student. Neat, but lived-in. The main room served as a living space, kitchenette, and study. A large, slightly cluttered desk dominated one wall, covered in data-pads, scribbled notes on flimsy paper, and a few genuine-looking artifact fragments under magnifying lenses. The walls were lined with shelves of real, physical books—a rarity—mixed with more modern storage cubes. The furniture was simple, Federation-issue bland, but made cozy by a thick, woven rug and a few vibrant tapestries that looked locally made. A door led off to what was presumably a bedroom and bathroom.
"It's not much," Ben said, suddenly self-conscious.
"It's fine," Samus said, walking in, her eyes scanning the space out of habit. Secure. One exit besides the front door—a window in the bedroom. No obvious surveillance. She stopped in the middle of the living area, turning to face him.
She didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say now that she was here. Samus was a huge introvert, after all.
Ben laughed when he realized he might have to carry this conversation. "Right. Can I… get you something? I have juice. Some local fruit blend. It's good."
"Sure."
He bustled to the small kitchenette area, pulling a chilled carafe from a preservation unit and pouring two glasses of a deep magenta liquid. His hands trembled slightly. He brought the glasses over, handing one to her. Their fingers brushed. His were warm.
Samus took the glass, their eyes meeting over the rim. She took a long, slow drink, her eyes closing for a second as she savoured the sweet-tart flavour. Her eyelashes were long. Her outfit was sexy without trying. Samus was a tall woman, well-over six feet. Ben and her were exactly the same height. But still. This was it. The moment of decision. She could finish this drink, thank him for the diversion, and leave. Return to her ship, her solitude, her mission. Or…
She opened her eyes and was turning her head over. The words were on her tongue. "Ben. I'm her. I'm Samus. Thank you for your faith."
"Oh. Ah."
The soft, strangled sound from Samus was not something she ever thought she'd hear from herself.
In the time it took her to take that one drink, with her eyes closed, Ben—sweet, nervous, utterly convinced he was reading the situation correctly—had acted. Drink put aside, he stood up and…
"Uh…."
His pants and boxers dropped and were pooled around his ankles. Samus was suddenly eye-level with a man's flaccid penis.
It was the biggest fucking cock she had ever seen.
For a bounty hunter who had faced creatures of all sizes and configurations, this was a new category of biological astonishment. Ben's penis hung heavily between his legs, a good ten inches long and not even hard. It was thick, the shaft like a rolled fist, with a prominent, defined head. Beneath it was the biggest pair of testicles she'd ever seen on a humanoid, each one the size of a large plum, looking full and heavy.
Samus' soul shut down. Her brain underwent a full, silent suspension. Her professional analysis kicked in. Were humanoid penises supposed to be that big? Galactic genetic variance is vast, but this…
Ben stood there. "S-so…?"
See, this planet was quite different in its treatment of women. What Ben was doing—did—it was a typical mating ritual. Showing one's penis was a proposal to date.
Samus' hadn't heard of such a thing. Hell, she didn't process that this could be a cultural custom in the first place. Her battle-hardened eyes were wide like it was her first time seeing a man naked. The glass fell from her fingers. But…but she didn't stop staring at his penis.
A beauty like her staring at a guy was bound to cause something. Oh yes, the transformation began. The sheer visual feedback, her stunned attention, the raw tension in the room—it was all working on Ben. The massive, soft organ began to stir. His cock twitched. His cock thickened. This fanboy's began to rise from its resting state.
Slowly, he reached a massive fourteen inches.
There was no doubt about it—he was Samus' biggest fan.
The cock stood out from his body, perfectly upright with a light curve at the end and it was officially touching her lips. Oh yes, it was. Those pink lips, parted slightly, were kissed by this monster cock. Throb, throb! It was terrifying. It was magnificent. It was the most blatantly, vulgarly sexual thing she had ever witnessed.
Samus Aran, the legendary bounty hunter, set her half-finished juice glass down on his desk but did not move that massive cock from her pink lips. All thoughts of revealing her identity vanished and were replaced by a much more immediate, much more primal curiosity. A challenge had been presented. Not by a monster, but by her biggest fan. A sweet, nervous scholar with a cock that belonged in a museum of natural wonders.
Samus…Samus silently rose to her feet. They were eye-to-eye, or cock to thigh. Words felt insufficient. Her eyes, now dark with a hunger that had nothing to do with battle, travelled the length of him, from his shocked, handsome face, down his chest, to the awe-inspiring erection.
Her hand, the one that could wield a power beam capable of vaporizing steel, reached over. Her fingertips hovered just above the tip.
She looked up. Ben was glad to see that she wasn't backing away in disgust. She was, well, still stoic, but he could feel the emotion in her eyes.
This blonde woman wanted this.
The night's plans had just been irrevocably, wonderfully altered.
…
…
…
PRESENT
They stripped and they fucked. They on the bed, in his kitchen, and now, they were fucking on his office desk. Where nerdy Ben studied, he was now blowing Samus' back.
"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck—!"
That was Samus, not Ben. See, she tried to whisper and suppress her pleasure. This was her fan, afterall. She wanted to look good and maybe tell him afterward that he was indeed the object of her admiration. At this point, she had kinda succeeded. But really, come on, her pussy said it all. She was enjoying this nerdy stud's dick and it was going to get much, much worse. Samus was going to get loud.
Her palms slapped against the cold metal of his desk as he drove into her from behind. Keeping a tight grip was impossible. Ben's dick was that dick. Ben's hands were iron clamps on her hips, fingers digging into the hard muscle of her ass, pulling her back onto every thrust.
"God…! Aran! You're so tight!"
He grunted and his lips whispered in her ear.
"I love it, Aran…!"
Her other name. Again. It shouldn't have mattered. But here, naked, bent over a student's desk with his monstrous cock splitting her open, it was the only thing that felt real. Everything else was sensation, a fucking tsunami of it.
Her pussy was ruined. There was no other word for it. Fourteen inches of dick was a brutal, beautiful invasion, and her cunt was taking it, stretching around a girth she could feel in her fucking kidneys. Each slam of his hips sent a shockwave through her entire body. Her knees buckled. Samus locked her elbows, trying to hold herself up, but her legs… her legs were shaking.
"Making you cum again?" he asked without an ounce of arrogance. It wasn't some arrogant stud fucking her, it was her biggest fan. Some nerdy nerd who didn't even realize who she was. "You're such a slut, you know that?"
"I-I'm not—"
"You are."
A violent, involuntary tremor ran through her quadriceps, down her calves. Her thighs quivered. Her legs didn't shake. Ever. Not when she'd faced Ridley. Not when the Omega Pirate had her cornered. Her stance was always solid from technique and willpower and—
"I-I…B-Ben…!" She couldn't fucking believe it. She was…
"F-fine! I am your slut!"
"Heh, knew it."
Tonight, under the perfect fucking of this random fan, her body was betraying her. The tremors were humiliating her. And worst of all….this bastard looked up to her. But now, without her suit, she was just a common slut to him! A woman to be used and fucked! Nothing more!
"You feel that?" Ben rasped, still oh-so near her ear. "You're shaking for me. Your whole fucking pussy is shaking."
He pulled back until just the fat head of his cock was stretching her entrance, then surged forward in one smooth, devastating stroke. "Ungh!" The sound was punched out of her. This dick filled her so completely it stole the air from her lungs. Her cunt clenched around him in a wet, hot, desperate grip.
"Yeah… squeeze my cock just like that," he moaned. "Your pussy's so fucking tight around me, you slut. Like it was made for this dick."
It wasn't tight. It was occupied. Stuffed beyond capacity. Samus could feel every vein and every ridge as he moved. The stretch was a burning, glorious ache that centered in her cunt and radiated out, making her toes curl against the cool floor. Samus…Samus hardly recognized her own voice or thoughts. She just…she wanted more. Battle strategies, mission parameters, enemy weak points—all of it was erased, replaced by the single, overwhelming input of cock.
"It is…! It is! Mmm, my pussy is in loooove!!"
The blonde was smiling ear to ear. The blonde was drooling. The blonde was just staring at the wall as he pounded away.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
Her hair was gathered together and tugged on to get a better look at her face. Ben could only laugh. "Aww, look at you, Aran! So cute!"
"D-d-d-don't call me—"
"Cute? But you are!" Slam, slam! The two thrusts were synchronized with him tugging on her head. "And slutty! Don't worry, slut and cute don't have to seperate titles! You can be both!"
Most days, men called her beautiful, not...not cute. She was tall and showed rather un-feminine features. Stoic, detached, a professional...
"Ah~!"
He pulled again, grinning. Samus' full expression could be seen and it was very much that of a woman that was loving this. Her nose flares and panted heavily as she said, "F-f-fine! I can be both! S-slutty and cute!"
"Good girl!"
He let go of her and changed his angle slightly. He was still leaning over her, his chest plastered to her sweat-soaked back. The new position made him go even deeper, the broad crown of his dick hammering against her cervix with every thrust.
"Oh, fuck! Right there! Right fucking there!" The cry tore from her throat, high and ragged. A spot. A deep, secret place she'd never had touched, never even known existed, was being pummeled into submission. Electric jolts of undiluted pleasure shot from her core to her fingertips, to the roots of her hair. Her vision sparked.
The desk groaned in protest, data-pads and artifact fragments rattling. His grip on her hips tightened. On any other woman, it might have left bruises. But not on her. Not on Samus.
"I'm gonna cum," he gasped into her ear. "Gonna fill your pretty pussy up, Aran. You want that? You want me to pump you full?"
She couldn't speak. Her mouth was open, saliva dampening the back of her hand on the desk. She managed a frantic, jerky nod, her blonde hair sticking to her face. Yes. Fucking yes—-
Spuuurt! Spurt, spurt!
He was already cumming. He didn't wait for more. She felt him swell, pulse, and then the hot, sudden flood.
It was thick. Creamy. She felt it, gallon after impossible gallon, spurting into her with such force it seemed to push against her already stretched walls. Her own orgasm crashed over her a second later, triggered by the sensation of being filled. It was a sharp, clenching wave that made her cry out, a sound lost under his groans. Her pussy spasmed around him, milking every last drop from his balls.
"You good bitch! Taking it all…!"
Samus? Some random bastard's good bitch?
"I ammmm~!!" Samus mewled, smiling deliriously.
She could feel it, the wet, messy proof of it, already starting to seep out around where they were joined. For a long minute, they stayed like that, him draped over her, both panting, dripping with sweat. Slowly, he softened enough to slip out.
It was a concerning amount of cum that gushed out of her hole. You know, the kind that equalled being pregnant. If Samus wasn't pregnant from this, then no man in all the galaxies could get her pregnant. This stud had bigger balls than three men put together, and that wasn't an exaggeration.
Samus slumped forward, her forehead resting on the desk. Her legs were jelly. The trembling hadn't stopped.
"Holy shit," Ben breathed, stepping back. He sounded awed.
Then he smacked her left ass cheek.
"Let's go again?"
"H-huh…?"
Before she could process the emptiness, his hands were on her waist and he lifted her to her feet. "W-wait…" Samus croaked out as half-carried her to the bed. He laid her down on her back, then climbed over her. He grabbed her legs and started peppering kisses, from her feet to her thighs. He made his way up, up, up to her navel and higher…
Samus could only watch this man worship her. She could only obey and let herself be carried and used. Because this man…he wasn't stopping.
Who in the world was this guy? How…how was this guy overpowering her like this? Was he superhuman?
Her eyes drifted downward. His cock was like a steely pipe and brushing against her navel. His balls were weight and hefty and dangling there.
His smile was coming closer and closer. "Mmm! Mmmh!" Ben planted kisses on her cheeks and forehead and neck. She couldn't believe how loving and dedicated of a lover he was. It was like he was a divine entity sent to service her or something…
"Now then…"
Thwack! One hand had his cock slap her cunt. His smile twisted into a smirk and he licked his lips.
"You ready, honey?"
"B-Ben, just…"
"Come on, you're fine. I still have ten more loads to go! And look at those abs!" The smiling Ben went down and kissed her abs. "I bet you do some serious cardio!"
She did. "B-but, you're so…"
Thwack! His cock silenced her by slapping it on her abs. Smirking, he grabbed her thighs and used them to hoist her legs over his shoulders. Suddenly, she realized, Ben had jumped into a squat. He lifted her hips, tilting her pelvis up, and guided his cock back to her slick, used entrance.
Schliiick!
"Ben! Ngggh, oh, Beeeen!!"
This position… it was deeper. More exposing. "It's called a mating press!" Ben said happily. Half of his cock was already inside. Her legs were pushed back and her knees near her shoulders.
And he was ready to do more.
"Don't close your eyes," Ben told the woman that was secretly the woman he admired most. "I want to see your face when I fuck you this time. You are my little slut, aren't you?"
"B-Ben, I'm…I'm…"
"Come on, say it again."
"I-I…"
I'm Samus.
"I'm your little slut…"
*******
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