The air crackled, thick with the smell of sex, sweat, and Sarah's drying tears. She stared up at Mark, his cock slick and gleaming under the dim light, pulsing inches from her spit-smeared lips. His choked warning – "Sarah... stop... fuck... I'm gonna... I'm gonna come!" – hung in the charged silence. His face was a mask of agonized tension, jaw clenched, eyes wide with a primal urgency she'd never seen before. His hand still dug into her shoulder, a desperate anchor.
For one crystalline second, Sarah's mind went blank. Her jaw ached, her throat felt raw and bruised from earlier, her knees burned against the rough carpet. The sheer vulnerability of kneeling, wrecked, tasting him, hit her anew. Shame prickled hotly across her skin.
Then, like a switch flipping, the obsessive hunger roared back, fiercer, more demanding than anything she'd ever felt. This wasn't about Mark. Not really. It was about it. The impossible size, the power radiating from that thick, veined shaft, the proof of her own wild abandon written in the slick mess on his skin and hers. He was hers to take. His release was hers to claim. The humiliation curdled into a dark, possessive thrill.
Her gaze snapped from his panicked eyes down to the swollen, purplish head, a thick bead of pre-cum welling and dripping onto the carpet. A low, guttural sound escaped her – part growl, part whimper. "No," she rasped, her voice shredded but defiant. "No stopping. You fucking don't stop me." The words scraped her bruised throat, sending a fresh lance of pain. "Give it to me. Now. Down my fucking throat." Her hand shot out, not pushing him away, but wrapping around his shaft below the head, squeezing possessively, feeling the urgent throb beneath her fingers. "All of it. I want to feel you fucking explode."
Mark groaned, a sound ripped from deep within him. The command, the raw demand in her ruined voice, the painful grip on his cock – it shattered the last fragments of his control. Resistance evaporated. His fingers, still gripping her shoulder, slid up, tangling violently in the roots of her dark hair, fisting it tight. Not gentle. Possessive. A reflex born of overwhelming sensation and her raw command. "Fuck... Sarah..." His hips jerked forward involuntarily.
It was all the invitation she needed. Or demanded.
Sarah didn't open her mouth. She attacked. Her head lunged forward, driven by that terrifying compulsion, her jaw unhinging impossibly wide despite the screaming protest from her muscles. She aimed not for the head, but for the thick shaft below it. Her swollen, spit-slicked lips stretched obscenely as she forced herself onto him, deep, bypassing the sensitive head entirely, shoving the girthiest part straight towards her abused throat.
The thick ridge of his glans slammed into the back of her palate like a battering ram. Her gag reflex, already battered and raw, fired instantly, a violent, convulsive spasm tearing through her esophagus. Her eyes bulged, tears springing anew. A choked, wet gag tore from her, muffled horribly by the flesh filling her mouth. But she didn't pull back. She pushed harder, grinding her face forward, using the painful grip he had on her hair as leverage to impale herself. Her free hand flew to his hip, nails digging in, holding him, pulling him deeper as she choked. Take it. Take it all. Show it who fucking owns this mouth.
Mark saw stars. The sudden, brutal invasion, the raw heat, the violent constriction as her throat muscles tried to reject him while she forced him deeper, the muffled gag vibrating against his sensitive skin – it was too much. The coil in his balls, wound impossibly tight for so long, snapped.
"Guh... FUCK!" The guttural roar tore from him as his hips pistoned forward, burying himself to the absolute hilt in her convulsing throat. Her nose mashed flat against the wiry hair at his base. She was full, impossibly, agonizingly full, feeling the entire thick, pulsing length stretching her esophagus, the prominent veins pressing against her constricted walls.
Then it hit.
The first hot, viscous rope erupted directly down her throat. It wasn't a gentle release; it was a torrent, a deep, primal expulsion forced through the tight channel her throat had become. It hit the back of her spasming esophagus like molten lava, thick and bitter-sweet, flooding her. She gagged violently around his shaft, a desperate, choking heave that vibrated against him, her body bucking.
Mark didn't stop. Couldn't stop. He held her head locked in place by her hair, his hips grinding shallowly against her face as the orgasm ripped through him. Rope after thick, pulsing rope fired directly into her stomach. Each powerful jet triggered another convulsive gag, another choked scream muffled against his pubic bone. Her eyes streamed, vision blurring, snot mingling with spit and tears on her chin. She couldn't breathe. The sheer volume, the force, the heat flooding her insides – it was terrifying. Degrading.
He's fucking cumming inside me. Down my throat. Filling me up. Oh god, so much! The thought, fragmented and panicked, cut through the suffocating terror. And then, tangled with the horror, came the undeniable, terrifying thrill. She was taking it. Taking all of it. Him. His monstrous release. The ultimate surrender forced upon her, yet she was demanding it. The power, the helplessness, the sheer brutal intimacy – it short-circuited her nervous system.
Her body, already teetering on the edge from the relentless sucking and her own frantic fingering, detonated. A third, explosive orgasm ripped through her, savage and utterly uncontrolled. It hit like a seizure. Her thighs slammed together, her back arched violently off the floor, her free hand clawing uselessly at the carpet. A high-pitched, keening shriek tore from her constricted throat, a sound of pure, agonized ecstasy, muffled into a wet, gurgling sob against Mark's groin. Her pussy clenched in rapid, violent spasms, drenching her sleep shorts anew, the flood soaking through to the carpet beneath her knees as she squirted helplessly. She trembled, convulsed, choked on cum and her own scream, her vision whiting out as wave after wave of brutal pleasure wracked her, utterly overwhelming the suffocating pressure and the burn in her throat.
Mark's roar subsided into ragged gasps. The last pulses left him, weaker now, dribbling onto her flattened tongue. The fierce grip on her hair loosened, his hand falling away, trembling. He slumped back slightly, bracing himself against the wall, his legs feeling like jelly. The sight before him was devastating. Sarah, slumped forward, his softening cock slipping wetly from her gaping, swollen lips with a lewd pop. Strands of saliva and cum connected her mouth to his glistening shaft for a moment before snapping. She collapsed onto her hands, coughing violently, great hacking, retching coughs that shook her whole frame. Thick ropes of pearly white spilled from her lips onto the carpet, mixing with the mess already there. Tears and snot streamed down her face. She trembled violently, her breath coming in ragged, wet hitches.
Her eyes, when she finally lifted her head, were unfocused, glazed with shock and the lingering after-shocks of her own brutal climax. They tracked slowly, dazedly, from the thick, softening cock hanging heavy between his legs, smeared with her fluids and his own release, down to the stark white puddle on his faded blue carpet, inches from her face. Then, slowly, her gaze shifted to the dark, spreading wet patch soaking through the crotch of her thin sleep shorts and onto the carpet beneath her knees – undeniable evidence of her own loss of control.
The bitter, salty tang of him lingered on her tongue, mixing with the metallic taste of her own blood from a split lip she hadn't noticed biting. Her shorts clung cold and wet against her thighs, the carpet rough and sticky beneath her trembling knees. The acrid smell of sex, sweat, and expelled fluids hung heavy in Mark's small, cluttered bedroom, a stark contrast to the faded band posters on the walls.
Mark stared down at her, his chest heaving, his softening cock glistening obscenely, smeared with her spit and his own release. His knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of his desk, legs visibly shaking. "Jesus... Sarah..." he breathed, the words thick with disbelief and residual shock. His gaze darted between her tear-streaked, swollen face, the mess on the carpet, and the wet patch spreading beneath her.
Shame should have flooded her, a tidal wave to drown the madness. Instead, a low, almost purring sigh escaped her raw throat. She shifted forward, ignoring the ache in her jaw, the sting in her scalp where he'd gripped her hair. Her hand, trembling only slightly, reached out. Not for her shorts, not to wipe her face. For him.
Her fingers, still slick with her own fluids, closed around the base of his cock. It was thick, heavy, impossibly soft against her palm. "Fuck," she whispered, the word rough and ragged, yet filled with a disturbing reverence. "You fucking wrecked me." She leaned her forehead against his thigh for a second, breathing him in – sweat, musk, sex. "Tasted so fucking good."
Ignoring his flinch, the slight recoil of his hips, she lifted her head. Her eyes, glassy but fiercely intent, locked onto his. A ghost of her old sneer twisted her lips, but it morphed into something else entirely – hungry, possessive. "Best orgasm I ever fucking had," she rasped. Her other hand joined the first, cradling his softness. "Didn't know it could feel like that. Didn't know anything could feel like that." She squeezed gently, feeling the spongy weight. "All thanks to this monster cock. So fucking big. So fucking strong." Her thumbs traced the prominent vein running along the underside. "Mine."
Mark made a strangled sound. His cock twitched, a faint pulse against her palms. She saw it – the undeniable thickening, the slow, reluctant resurgence despite his utter exhaustion. A triumphant, feral glint sparked in her eyes. "That's it," she cooed, leaning closer, her breath hot on his skin. "Grow for me, big boy. Show me again." Her tongue darted out, licking a stripe along his shaft, tasting salt and bitterness and the fading echo of power. "Need it back."
He was hardening faster now, the blood rushing back under her relentless touch and whispered filth. "Sarah... you can't... we just..." His protest was weak, swallowed by a groan as she took the burgeoning head into her mouth. Not deep. Just the swollen tip, her swollen lips stretching around the girth as it grew.
She hummed, the vibration making him jerk. Her eyes rolled back slightly in pure, mindless need. She entered a trance, a cock-sucking fugue state, oblivious to her own wrecked throat, the drying mess, the world outside this room. She sucked, licked, and nuzzled the burgeoning length, whispering broken praises between wet, open-mouthed kisses. "So good... fuck, yes... harder... get harder... need all of it... biggest I've ever seen... strongest... filled me up..."
An hour dissolved. Her jaw screamed, her knees were numb, but she didn't stop. She worshipped the thick shaft, the heavy balls, his thighs. She was lost, consumed, a slave to the sheer magnitude of him. Mark leaned heavily against the headboard, head thrown back, eyes closed, breathing in ragged gasps, unable to stop the relentless return to rigidity fueled by her insane devotion.
A muffled groan escaped him, a sound of overwhelmed exhaustion rather than pleasure. It snapped something in her. Her eyes, previously glazed, focused with sudden, sharp intensity on the rock-hard cock before her. Without warning, she lunged forward, sinking her teeth playfully – but with sharp, startling pressure – into the side of his shaft, just below the head.
"Fuck!" Mark yelped, jolting upright, pain and shock flaring. Sarah growled, low and guttural in her chest, like a dog guarding its prize. She shook her head side to side, her teeth dragging against the sensitive skin, her dark hair whipping around her face. The image was primal, sultry, terrifying: her pearly white teeth stark against the flushed, veined hardness, her eyes gleaming with feral possession. She released it with a wet smack, panting, a thin red mark already forming.
She stared at the mark, then up at his wide, stunned eyes. Her own gaze dropped lower, between her own trembling thighs, then back to his immense cock, thick and demanding. The need wasn't just in her mouth anymore. It clawed deeper, an insistent, burning ache low in her belly. She couldn't leave. Not yet. Not until she felt it. Properly.
It wasn't cheating, she told herself firmly, swallowing hard, ignoring the phantom taste of him coating her throat. Of course not. She was just... curious. Experimenting. Seeing what it was like. Just the tip. Just to feel that impossible stretch for a second. That would be fine. Totally fine. Her hand tightened possessively around his base again, pulling him towards her soaked shorts.