Chapter 25: The First Penetration
The warm, salty taste of him—of her—was still on Katy’s lips. She lay on her back, breathing in ragged gasps, one hand idly stroking the hard, heavy weight of Garrett’s cock where it lay against his—her—thigh. The city lights through the floor-to-ceiling windows painted shifting patterns on the ceiling, a silent disco in a room that stank of sweat and sex and something undeniably corrupt.
Next to her, Garrett trembled. The shocking, full-body convulsion of his orgasm had left him hollowed out and hypersensitive. A thin, clear slickness cooled on his inner thighs. He could feel the ghost of her finger inside his ass, a lingering stretch that made every shift of his hips a vivid reminder. Shame should have been a tidal wave, but it was a distant thing, muffled by a dominating, physical craving that was quickly smothering everything else. His body, her body, was taut as a bowstring, thrumming with an empty, aching need.
He turned his head on the pillow. Katy was watching him, her blue eyes—his blue eyes—dark with a predatory understanding. Her fist tightened around the base of his cock, pumping slowly, making the thick vein along the shaft pulse under her touch.
“It’s not enough, is it?” she said, her voice low and raspy. “That little squirt… it just woke everything up.”
Garrett couldn’t speak. He just watched, mesmerized, as her hand worked the length of him. It was a monstrous, beautiful thing, a part of him that was now a tool for her. And his body, the one he was trapped in, was screaming for it.
“I can feel it,” he whispered, the admission torn from him. “It’s like… a deep ache. An emptiness.”
“I know the feeling,” Katy smirked. “This thing has a mind of its own right now. It needs a warm, tight hole to bury itself in. And you’ve got one, don’t you? Still loose and wet and begging for it.”
Before he could protest, could even think, he was moving. It was a clumsy, graceless scramble, driven by a hunger that bypassed his brain entirely. He swung a leg over her hips, straddling her, the soft nest of blonde hair at his crotch hovering just above the angry, purple head of his own erection.
Katy’s hands snapped to his hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. “That’s it. No more thinking. Just take what you need.”
He reached down, his hand trembling violently as he wrapped his fingers around the base of the cock. The skin was hot and silken, a live wire of potential. He guided the tip to his entrance, gasping as it nudged against the swollen, sensitive lips. It felt huge. Impossible.
“Easy,” Katy grunted, her hips pushing up slightly, applying a firm, insistent pressure.
He sank down.
The initial stretch was a white-hot brand of pain. He cried out, his body instinctively resisting, clamping down on the unfamiliar, brutal girth. He froze, panting, only the thick, bulbous head lodged inside him.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Katy hissed, her knuckles white where she gripped his hips. “Just relax. Breathe. Let it in.”
He tried. He forced a breath into his lungs, willed the muscles to unclench. Slowly, agonizingly, he lowered himself further. The shaft stretched him open with a burning, relentless pressure. He could feel every inch as it disappeared into his body, a slow, invading conquering of space that was never meant to hold it. He looked down, watching in a detached horror as his stomach, her stomach, seemed to distend slightly with the monstrous intrusion.
“Holy shit,” he whimpered, when he was finally seated fully, her hips grinding against his ass. He was impaled, filled to bursting. The feeling was overwhelming, a mixture of violation and a profound, eerie rightness. The deep ache was gone, replaced by a punishing fullness.
He rose up, a slow, shaky motion, the drag of the cock inside him an exquisite torture. Then he slammed back down, crying out as it hit a deep, electric spot. A rhythm found him, not graceful, but primal and desperate. He rode her, his head thrown back, his own breasts bouncing with each impact. The slapping sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, a wet, filthy rhythm-section to their ragged breathing.
Katy watched him, a crazed, possessive gleam in her eyes. “Look at you. My tight little cunt, taking all of me. You love it, don’t you? You love being fucked by your own dick.”
He could only moan in response, each thrust scattering his thoughts. The pleasure was building again, a different kind this time, deeper, more consuming, coiled around the core of that invading hardness.
The pressure inside him crested without warning, a raw, shuddering climax that ripped through his core and left him clawing at the sheets. "Fuck, I'm coming again!" he screamed, his voice cracking as his cunt clenched violently around the thick cock buried deep within him. Spasms wracked his body, milking the shaft in rhythmic, greedy pulses.
Katy watched, her jaw tight, as his—her—body convulsed in pleasure. A sour, burning jealousy twisted in her gut. "Again? So soon?" she muttered, her hands gripping his hips harder. She could feel the delicious, tight contractions around her cock, a sensation she knew her own body was built to crave.
She thrust upward, burying herself to the hilt, forcing another choked cry from his lips. "You have no idea how good that feels," she growled, her envy sharpening her tone. "My body... it was made for a cock like this. To be stretched open, filled up."
Garrett could only gasp, his sensitivity skyrocketing as another, weaker orgasm trembled through him. His vision swam, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold. "I can't... it's too much," he panted, his body trembling with oversimulation.
"But you're taking it all," Katy snarled, her hips pistoning now, a relentless, punishing rhythm. "You're feeling every inch of that beautiful, massive fuckin' thing inside you." She felt a desperate, hollow ache in her own core, a phantom memory of what it was like to be on the receiving end. "God, I miss it. I miss being filled."
His next climax built quickly, a white-hot coil snapping tight deep in his belly. "Katy, I'm—" he tried to warn her, but the words were lost as another wave crashed over him. This one was softer, a prolonged, trembling release that left him dripping and utterly spent.
He collapsed forward, his sweat-slicked chest pressing against hers, the coarse hair tickling his nipples. Katy held still inside him, her cock twitching with its own need. She looked down at the body beneath her, at the flushed, satisfied face that was once her own. "Lucky bastard," she whispered, the words thick with a bitter longing. "You get to feel what it's like to have the biggest goddamn cock you've ever seen fucking you senseless."