Marilyn gently closed her eyes, her hips sank, and she sat down abruptly.
There was no intense pain as she had expected. There was some pain, but it wasn't severe. Instead, she felt stretched by the large penis.
Marilyn dared not sit all the way down at once. She felt her legs grow weak, and in fact, they were not only weak but also trembling violently.
An indescribable sensation of pleasure spread from her vagina.
Suddenly, Marilyn blushed deeply. She heard her own moans echoing throughout the cave: "Hmm… hmm… ah… hmm…"
Those were sounds she had unconsciously let out without even realizing it. What made her even more embarrassed was that she couldn't control them.
Just as she didn't know what to do, she suddenly felt a hand pressing down on her leg, another hand supporting her crotch, and one finger gently teasing her clitoris.
Marilyn let out a sharp "Ah…" scream, her legs giving way completely. Her hips were pressed down by that hand, forcing her to sink fully onto him.
Ritchie's massive member was almost entirely engulfed, its tip pressing against the entrance to Marilyn's cervix. By now, he was certain the woman he was with was not Miss Randy.
There was no third woman here besides Miss Marilyn. Ritchie gently squeezed her slender yet firm thigh—unmistakably the strong, toned leg of a knight. Rosa had legs like this, Lina too, and so did the three sisters.
But compared to other female knights, Marilyn's skin was far softer, so delicate it seemed a pinch might draw water from it.
Ritchie opened his eyes and saw Marilyn straddling him, moving up and down. Her long, slender legs spread wide on either side, the soft flesh of her hips and thighs trembling with each motion.
Her skin was strikingly pale, almost translucent, like polished alabaster.
Her hips were full, the kind that exuded sensuality. Female knights often had firm, toned backsides, likely from their rigorous training and strong muscles.
Ritchie gave a firm squeeze, and just as with Lina and the others, he could feel the iron-hard muscles beneath the plump flesh. Yet Marilyn's hips were the most comfortable to touch: soft and yielding, leaving faint finger marks with a gentle press.
This was the most exquisite body, blending a knight's strength with a woman's tenderness.
Ritchie was so captivated by Marilyn's form that the physical pleasure of their intimacy took a backseat.
Making love to Marilyn wasn't as thrilling as it was with Lina, that insatiable vixen.
Marilyn's passage was tight, but only to the degree of Rosa or the three sisters.
Her inner folds weren't particularly pronounced, not like Rosa's intricate layers that sent waves of pleasure through him, nor like Randy's, whose passage was lined with delicate protrusions that made every thrust intensely satisfying. Randy's abundant fluids also added a sense of masculine pride.
But this gentle, tender lovemaking with Marilyn enthralled Ritchie in its own way, even surpassing the raw, carnal thrill he felt with Lina.
In the depths of the cave, the air was filled with Marilyn's enchanting moans, soft and melodic, rising and falling like a siren's song. Unlike Randy, she made no effort to stifle her voice.
She was exploring her sensations, moving instinctively toward what felt good. At first, her movements were tentative, slightly clumsy. Ritchie's strong hand pinned her thigh, while his other cradled her hips, guiding her rhythm with a commanding touch. But soon, Marilyn found her stride. Her legs, once trembling, grew steady, and she took control of the pace.
Ritchie's strength, though formidable, could never match hers.
"Deeper… go deeper…" she urged between gasps, her voice a sultry melody laced with commands. Even she hadn't expected to surrender so completely to the moment.
Her face turned away, hidden from view, Marilyn was lost in ecstasy. Her cheeks flushed crimson, her heart a battlefield of conflicting emotions: utter abandon to the pleasure warring with shame and fear.
A fleeting thought crossed her mind: perhaps the old tales were true, that women with pronounced curves and full lips were destined for wantonness. The notion stung, threatening tears, yet none would come.
"Ah!"
Marilyn's cry pierced the air as her body tensed, overwhelmed by sensation. Amid the throes of passion, a finger slipped into her, catching her off guard with a jolt of intense pleasure.
She reached back, desperate to grasp something, anything, but the overwhelming sensation clouded her mind. Her body softened, and she sank to her knees, trembling.
At that moment, Ritchie let out a moan of his own, their voices intertwining in the shadowed cave.
Just for fun, Miss Marilyn turned her back to him, reminding him of the sultry scene in his attic—Katherine and that unknown woman, their hips facing him, letting him thrust his middle finger into their anuses.
What would it feel like to thrust into Miss Marilyn's anus?
As the thought crossed his mind, Ritchie acted on it.
Now he finally knew the sensation, and it revealed a secret about Miss Marilyn: she was an exquisite creature made for anal play, with a sensitive spot inside her anus far more responsive than others.
The moment her anus was penetrated, her entire passage clenched fiercely, not just contracting but twisting, with a force rivaling Miss Lina's vaginal lock.
If their earlier lovemaking was a simple meal, this was a gourmet feast.
Ritchie half-crawled from the ground, kneeling behind Miss Marilyn, thrusting powerfully. He could feel her body soften, giving him control of the rhythm.
Pulling out completely before plunging back in, Ritchie began his favorite deep thrusts. His fingers weren't idle. One hand twisted inside her anus, while the other reached forward, index and middle fingers pinching her clit, trembling lightly.
Miss Marilyn's clit was massively swollen, like a peanut. Ritchie had been with many women, but none like her. He'd heard rumors that women with large clits had intense libidos.
Not only was her clit large, but her pubic hair was thick, a fuzzy patch near her wrist.
Ritchie chuckled inwardly. The usually gentle, pure-as-spring-water Miss Marilyn had the physique of a textbook slut.
But he didn't want to overthink it, lost in the intense, exotic pleasure.
Miss Marilyn's technique rivaled Lina, the "juicer." Her flesh clamped like a millstone, grinding his cock relentlessly, especially deep in her vagina, where it felt like countless suction cups gripped his tip.
Just then, that frustrating, aching fullness hit Ritchie again. He felt at the peak of pleasure, desperate to release, but… he couldn't.
"Ah…"
A sharp scream echoed in the cave, coming from Miss Marilyn.
Moments ago, she felt the thing inside her swell even larger, stretching her beyond endurance. The massive, scorching tip was too much, overwhelming her.
Marilyn's body stiffened, legs tensing, her orgasm lasting long, almost matching Lina, the juicer. A thick gush of fluid drenched their connection, sticky and viscous.
Simultaneously, a potent life energy surged into Ritchie. If the three sisters' energy was like fine wine, Marilyn's was honey. It coursed through him, purging the lingering shockwave in his body.
As Ritchie craved more, a soft "pop" sounded. His cock slipped out; Marilyn had pulled away.
She sensed his change, crawling forward to let his massive member slide out, then stood. Still soft from her first climax, the afterglow lingered, tempting her to savor the pleasure, but she forced herself upright.
She knew continuing would bind her to Ritchie's cock, her inner lust consuming her will. She'd either become his slave or a juicer like Lina. Both possibilities terrified her.