Marshall drilled in harder, grinning like a lunatic. The wet slap of his hips against her ass rang out harder in the room, just a few octaves from ringing loudly into the street. He wasn't slowing for even a second. "Who's that?"
"Neighbor… he… wants me… and… walks past the house countless times a day," Ajak panted, half-suppressing moans, half-gritting her teeth as another brutal thrust made her spine bow.
"He wants my Ajak?!"
Pa!
His free hand smacked her asscheek; the sharp sting bloomed into heat that made her pussy salivate around him even more. He rolled his hips in filthy circles on the next thrust, splaying her petals thin around his veiny girth. His cock came back glistening, coated in her creamy froth, strings of her slick stretching and snapping between them with every withdrawal.
"He and… every other married man on this street," Ajak whined, pitch climbing and falling like a rollercoaster. She couldn't help it; he was too thick, too deep, stretching her so wide every ridge dragged across sensitive nerve ends.
"Then let them hear you! That you have a man!" Marshall dared, thrusting even harder.
He grabbed her other fluffy leg and pinned both of her legs on each side of his hips. He went full on 'Superman suspension'. Her entire weight balanced on his thrusting cock and the grip of her hands on the windowsill. No leverage, no escape. Just him pounding up into her like he was trying to fuck her soul out through her mouth.
Plap! Plap!
Each thrust shoved her further forward, tits bouncing, the swollen undersides finally cleared the sill and dangled freely outside. Her heavy globes swayed in open air, nipples stiff, every jiggle a shameless display. Someone had to be seeing them if there lived that many horny bastards.
Marshall didn't give a fuck who saw, he reveled in it. She was his. His hands roamed her body, squeezing fistfuls of her doughy thighs so he could watch his cock disappear into her greedy, sucking cunt over and over. Her walls rippled and clenched around him like they were trying to drink him dry. Heat poured out of her, soaking his balls, dripping in thick strands to the hardwood floor.
"Mmmm!" Ajak bit her lip, trying to stay quiet.
Marshall wasn't having it. He pounded harder, mercilessly, until her muscles locked up. He could feel her thighs quivering, pussy clamping down for dear life.
"Ahhhh! Ahhhh!! YES!!!"
The scream tore out of her, echoing down the quiet street like a thunderclap. Dogs erupted into frantic barking three houses away. Somewhere, a car alarm blared.
Ajak's eyes rolled back, jaw slack, plump lips spilling sinful, broken moans as her climax ripped through her. Clear nectar gushed out around his cock in hot, messy spurts, splattering his thighs, the sill, the curtains, everything.
Pa!
Marshal lowered one leg just enough to crack another vicious smack across her jiggling ass. The flesh rippling like waves crashing into waves, his cock kept slamming up into her sweltering heat.
"Any… news on the Celestials?" he asked, still buried balls-deep, still rutting through her aftershocks.
"N-oh!"
"Why not?"
Pa!
He smacked harder. Her ass bounced beautifully.
"He's… gone into hiding."
"Fuck!"
Marshall teetered over the edge and finally rammed home, deep and brutal. He let both her feet drop back to the floor and shoved her upper body forward over the sill, belly pressed to the frame, magnificent tits fully dangling outside, swaying with every heaving breath. He lodged himself to the root and exploded.
He pumped load after load into her, flooding her pussy until it was full. Her pink walls were now as white as the walls of her suburban home, deliciously milfy. Sticky trails started dripping from her pussy onto the floorboards in fat drips. Her walls fluttered weakly, trying to keep him inside, milking every last drop like she was addicted to being stuffed.
"Gah… Let's go to bed. You on top." Marshall hauled her back inside with a rough yank, cock still twitching. "You still haven't moaned enough."
Sure, Marshall had come to ask about the Celestials. But how could he refuse a soft, gorgeous beauty like Ajak?
That whole day and until midnight, he fucked her in every imaginable way. By the end, despite Ajak's Eternal fortitude, she passed out.
So, Marshall went out looking for Thena because he still had a lot of giving to do.
####
Steven Spielberg was a famous filmmaker in the 1980s. After releasing Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, he was searching for something meaningful. Something grand that would plant his legacy for decades to come.
Something that would set him apart.
So, to find inspiration, he started his world tour. So many countries, continents, and seas. So many styles of art, dances, languages, and architecture. Yet, everywhere he found one thing in common. The First Man was worshipped, and his temples and shrines were everywhere. Even in the Middle East, where idols weren't seen with much love, First Man's statues from the days of old sultans and empires remained intact, while more grander ones continued to be erected.
That threw him into the rabbit hole of trying to trace the history of the First Man. The more he dug, the more he gasped. Historical, medieval, ancient, prehistoric, and beyond. Everyone knew First Man was ancient, but he wasn't personally aware of how deeply rooted the First Man was.
In China, he was allowed to see ancient scrolls, thousands of years old, detailing the First Man's visits.
Finally, when he returned home a year later, he sat down and watched the First Man's movie. And he had to give it to the god of humanity…
"He sucks!"
Yes, First Man sucked at acting, or rather, his lack of it. The movie was raw, and the First Man was similar. Yet, the movie had earned over a billion because the god himself was in it. But he didn't want that. He wasn't planning an alien invasion action movie.
His plan was simpler and still profound. After all, how could he explain millions of years of world history in a two-hour movie?
After a lot of hard work, and going to the MGM studios, owned by Dinosia, and requesting more, he was finally given the chance to meet the god himself. The nerds of MGM were fantastic.
He took the Dinosian plane and arrived at the sacred country, years ahead of the rest of the world. Everything was prepared beforehand; there were people to drive him over to the First Man's temple.
It was so grand. He reminded himself to ask about why Dinosia was created.
Moments later, he was guided by President Steven G. Rogers of all people. He asked why the man was there, and the answer was 'a vacation.' He didn't ask beyond that and soon entered the First Man's office. He was excited to see what the god's office looked like and…
He lost all interest.
It was a large empty room with open windows. It was absolutely empty, nothing on the walls, no curtains. The only furniture in the room was a flimsy metal table that you could fold; it was square. Then there were foldable lawn chairs set. One for him, and the other one on which the First Man sat.
"First Man?"
Steven at first thought this was a joke.
"Take a seat, kid."
But when the First Man waved his hand and moved the empty chair for him, he believed it all. Still, he looked around at how underwhelming this first impression was.
"So, the nerds at MGM told me you wanna slap my face on the big screen? It's about damn time someone noticed I'm a walking acting miracle."
"..."
If only you weren't so shit at it, your mighty holiness.
"Eat my entire ass, kid! You think I suck at acting? Rogers! Tell this little shit, does my acting suck?"
Steven recoiled, realising his thoughts were easily read. He began sweating profusely, heart thumping, afraid of heavenly punishment.
"Yes, sir. I won't sugarcoat it. You weren't very good in that film."
"..."
No! He'll refuse! What have I done?
Steven Spielberg frowned. "It wasn't all that bad, your holiness."
"Shut it, you burned the whole fucking bridge down, and now you're handing me tissues? Cough up the real reason you're here if not for my spectacular, ball-bustingly brilliant acting chops."
"Your Holiness, I am here for you. The film will be about you. It will tell the story of the First Man, and I am thinking of calling it 'The World's Man.' It will follow your journey. I just... I want to understand it properly. From before humanity, if you can. The earliest memory you have."
"So you wanna put out a movie about me... but without my magnificent face in it? Who the fuck's gonna play me, some talentless knob with my face glued o—"
"Harrison Ford, your holiness!" Steven Spielberg declared. "H-He'll play your role. He's tall, he's very handsom—"
"Ford? Ain't that the fucking car? You're putting a car to play me?"
"..."
___________________
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