Her eyes, wide and glazed with terror and lust, locked onto his. She saw herself reflected in their depths—a sweaty, disheveled, fucked-out slut with a look of pure, ecstatic terror. He watched her watching him, and a smirk touched his lips.
He grabbed his massive cock, notching it at her entrance with brutal precision. There was no teasing, no slow entry. With a guttural roar, he slammed home.
"AIEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Her back arched off the desk, a perfect, strained bow. The angle was different. Deeper. More intense. She could feel the thick, flared head of his cock battering against her cervix, a pain so exquisite it was indistinguishable from pleasure.
The sheer bulge of his shaft was visible through the skin of her lower belly, a grotesque and beautiful map of his possession.
He began to fuck her. Not with rhythm. With chaos. Hard, deep, punishing strokes that shook the entire desk.
THWACK!
The sound of his hips slapping against her was deafening.
CREAK... GROAN...
