Chapter 13: It fits, I swear
The silence after Clare’s command was a physical thing, thick and charged. Evie’s nod was less agreement than surrender. She watched, detached, as Clare scrambled off the bed, her movements jerky with renewed purpose. The sight of her, naked and slick, padding across their bedroom floor, felt like a memory from someone else’s life.
Clare returned from the bathroom clutching a large, half-empty bottle of clear lubricant. The clinical plastic was at odds with the animal heat in the room. She knelt on the bed, her eyes fixed on Evie’s cock, which stood unwavering, a monument to the violation she craved.
“This’ll help,” Clare muttered, more to herself than to Evie. She popped the cap and poured a generous stream directly onto the broad, veined head. The cool liquid made Evie flinch. It dripped down the shaft, pooling in the coarse hair at the base. Clare’s hands followed, spreading it with a rough, efficient urgency. Her palms slid over the hypersensitive skin, the slick, synthetic glide both alien and intensely stimulating. She worked the lube into every ridge and throbbing vein, coating the monstrous length until it shone under the dim bedroom light.
“There,” Clare breathed, her own breathing shallow. She poured more into her palm and slathered it between her own legs, over her swollen lips and the stretched, tender entrance that was already flushed a deep, abused red. She winced as her fingers pressed against herself, but the determination on her face didn’t falter.
She climbed back over Evie, positioning herself with a focus that reminded Evie of her in court. This was a case she was determined to win. She guided the slick, slippery head back to her opening. The lubricant changed everything. There was no dry, catching resistance this time. The blunt tip pressed in with a wet, yielding squelch.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Clare gasped, her head falling back. She sank down, and this time, the descent was smoother, a relentless, wet slide. The stretch was still immense, impossible, but the lube allowed her body to accommodate the girth with a terrifying, plastic ease. Evie could only watch, her hands fisted in the damp sheets, as inch after thick, glistening inch disappeared into Clare’s body. The visual was obscenely clear. She could see the outline of her own cock distending Clare’s lower belly, a grotesque bulge rising beneath the pale skin.
Clare took half of it. She bottomed out with a choked cry, her inner walls fluttering in a frantic, automatic rhythm around the invading mass. She was so full her breath came in short, sharp pants. “God… I can feel it… in my fucking stomach.”
Evie was immobilized by the sensation. The lubricated heat was smoother, less abrasive than the raw friction of before, but the pressure was even more profound. It was a deep, internal packing, as if her cock was a solid object filling a space that was never meant to be filled. A low, involuntary groan rumbled from her chest.
“You like that?” Clare panted, her eyes searching Evie’s face. “Feels good, doesn’t it? To be this deep inside me?” She began to move, a slow, shallow rocking of her hips. The wet, sucking sounds were loud, vulgar. Each small motion sent shocks through both of them. “Talk to me, Evie. Tell me how it feels.”
Evie’s voice, when it came, was a broken thing. “It’s… it’s so much. You’re so tight. Even with the lube.”
“I’m your tight little slut,” Clare moaned, the filthy words seeming to spur her on. She reached down with one hand, her fingers finding her clit, which was protruding, hard and needy. With her other hand, she grabbed one of her own breasts, squeezing the flesh roughly, pinching the nipple. “Look at me. Taking your huge cock. Stretching my cunt out for you.”
Clare’s self-directed touches, her dirty talk, the obscene sight of her impaled—it all coalesced into a wave of dark, confusing arousal that washed over Evie. The fear of hurting Clare was still there, a bright, sharp note, but it was being drowned out by a deeper, more primal thrum. A sense of power. Of being the source of this unraveling.
Clare’s movements became more frantic, her breath hitching. She was chasing her climax, her body convulsing around the unmoving shaft inside her. Her fingers worked her clit in quick, desperate circles. “I’m gonna come,” she announced, her voice guttural. “I’m gonna come all over this monster cock you gave yourself. Don’t move. Just… just let me use it.”
Evie obeyed, a statue of flesh and sensation. She watched Clare’s face contort, saw the moment her orgasm ripped through her. Clare’s back arched violently, a silent scream on her lips. Her internal muscles clamped down in a series of brutal, rhythmic pulses, a vise trying to crush the un-crushable. The pressure on Evie’s cock was immense, a milking, demanding sensation that triggered another one of those deep, dry internal convulsions in her own core. Her hips jerked up involuntarily, burying the cock perhaps a fraction deeper.
Clare cried out, a sound of overwhelming sensation, and collapsed forward. She lay sprawled on Evie’s chest, spent, the both of them slick with sweat and lube. Evie’s cock, still impossibly hard, remained sheathed inside her, a permanent, swollen fixture.
Minutes passed. The only sound was their ragged breathing. Finally, Clare pushed herself up. She looked dazed, ruined, beautiful. She lifted off, and the withdrawal was a long, wet, slithering release. She knelt back, looking down at herself.
Evie followed her gaze. Clare’s vagina remained open, a slack, glistening circle. The lube and her own fluids leaked out in a slow, steady trickle onto the bed. It didn’t close. It looked used, hollowed out.
And Evie’s cock, freed, was still rigid. It looked angry, the veins pronounced, the head a dark purple. It twitched, as if seeking the heat it had just left.
Clare didn’t reach for it. She just stared at her own body, then at Evie’s. A slow, strange smile touched her lips, devoid of its earlier frenzy. It was a smile of awe, of possession, of something colder.
“It’s not going down,” she observed quietly. Her fingers, tentative, brushed her own swollen folds. She pressed gently, and her entrance gaped slightly wider. “And I don’t think I’m going back to how I was, either.” She looked at Evie, her blue eyes clear and terrifyingly focused. “We need to buy more lube. A lot more.”