Page 36 of Prospect’s Curvy Vinyl Girl

I pull my hips back, dragging the thick, slick length of my cock almost out of her tight walls. The friction is mind-numbing. The suction of her pussy tries to hold me inside, the slick folds gripping the sensitive head of my shaft.

Then I slam my hips forward again, driving deep with a brutal, punishing force.

The oak counter groans violently under the weight of the impact. I set a relentless, punishing pace. Pulling out, driving in. Pulling out, driving in. The repetitive, wet slap of my flesh hitting her body is the loudest sound in the room. The thick, viscous squelch of her slick coating my shaft provides the perfect lubrication for the violent friction.

She leans all her weight back on her hands, her palms flat against the scratched wood of the counter. She lifts her long legs, wrapping her thighs tightly around my waist. She crosses her ankles at the small of my back, locking herself to my driving hips.

The sustained position gives me total leverage. I’m standing on the solid floorboards, balanced, pouring all of my body weight into every downward thrust. The angle is punishing. The thick head of my cock batters against her deepest wall with every deep stroke.

Every stroke pulls a fresh wave of her slick onto my shaft. Every withdrawal drags a wet, audible suction from her cunt. The smell of her sex saturates the empty shop, undercutting the cedar-and-paper smell that’s lived in this room since her mother held it open. I’m replacing every breath she’s drawn alone with the scent of me. I’m rewriting her senses from the inside out.

The counter rocks on its base. The wood creaks and protests the violence of the fated claiming.

I drop one hand from her thigh and reach between our connecting bodies. I find her swollen, throbbing clit right above the base of my driving shaft. I press my thumb hard against the sensitive nerve, grinding down as I thrust my cock deep into her tight walls.

The dual stimulation shatters her.

Her head rolls on her shoulders. Her mouth falls open in a silent scream of pure pleasure. Her fingernails dig viciously into the wood of the counter, gouging fresh tracks into the oak.

"Mine," I grind out against her throat. The wet, slapping sound of my hips against hers swallows the word.

The physical sensation is blinding. The tight, wet friction of her walls dragging up and down the length of my shaft is pulling me rapidly toward the edge of an explosive climax. Every time I bottom out inside her, the ache in my balls tightens, the primitive breeding instinct demanding I fill her.

Behind the counter, the music abruptly stops.

The final note of the Fleetwood Mac track fades into silence. The needle hits the runout groove at the center of the vinyl record.

Tch-tch. Tch-tch. Tch-tch.

The rhythmic, repetitive scratching of the needle circling the empty groove fills the hollow shop.

The sound synchronizes perfectly with the brutal rhythm of my hips.

Tch-tch. I drag my cock out. Tch-tch. I slam deep into her slick pussy. Tch-tch. The wet slap of my pelvis hitting hers.

I refuse to lift the needle. I refuse to break the rhythm. I let the empty space play, filling the silent void with the raw, obscene sounds of our claiming.

"Tyler!" she screams, her voice cracking, wrecked by the relentless pounding. "Tyler, please! I can't—I'm going to⁠—"

"Cum for me," I roar, my voice booming in the dark space. I drop both my hands to her hips, pinning her bare ass flat against the edge of the wood so she can’t retreat an inch. "Take every fucking inch of it and shatter for me. Now."

I increase the speed of my thrusts to a blinding blur. The friction is a fire burning between our bodies. I grind my pubic bone viciously against her swollen clit, mashing the sensitive flesh while my thick cock stretches her tight walls to the breaking point.

Wendy’s body goes rigid.

Her spine locks. Her head snaps back. A deafening cry tears out of her throat as the orgasm hits her with the force of a physical collision.

Her pussy walls clamp down violently around the thick length of my cock. The tight, spasming muscles milk my shaft with agonizing pressure. The internal contractions are ruthless, squeezing the sensitive head, dragging the climax out of my balls.

The sensation of her orgasm milking my cock snaps the last thread of my sanity.

I roar, a deep, guttural sound of pure victory, and drive my hips forward one final, catastrophic time. I bury my cock to the hilt, pressing my pelvis flush against hers, crushing her clit under my weight.

My balls clench tight.

I pump a boiling jet of thick seed into the deepest part of her womb.

The physical release is an explosive, blinding relief. I groan aggressively, my jaw locking tight as a second jet of cum blasts deep inside her. Then a third. I empty my balls, flooding her tight, slick walls with my fated claim, marking her from the inside out.