But her fingers were rubbing. Her fingers were circling her clit. Her body was responding. Her walls were clenching. Her pussy was producing slick—more and more, thick, clear, mixing with the blood, mixing with the rain, forming foam at her entrance.

His cock was bruising her.

She could feel it. Inside. The walls of her pussy were sore. Tender. Each thrust was a new impact on already-damaged tissue. The bruising was deep—internal, invisible, but she could feel it. A deep, aching soreness that spread through her pelvis, through her lower back, through her thighs.

"Please—!" she cried. "Please— it hurts— it hurts so much— hic— please— slow down— sob— PLEASE—"

He pulled out.

All twelve inches. The shaft emerged. It was coated. Red with blood. White with her slick. Pink where they mixed. The head popped free. Her pussy gaped. Open. Ruined. The lips were swollen. Dark. The entrance was a crater. It twitched. It convulsed. It would not close.

He twisted her.

He turned her. On her side. The spoon position. Her back was against his chest. Her ass was against his groin. His cock—still hard, still wet, still enormous—pressed against her ass. Against the crack. The head was hot against her anal opening.

He lifted her leg.

Onto his shoulder. Her right leg. He draped it over his shoulder. Her thigh was on his collarbone. Her calf was behind his neck. She was open. Exposed. Her pussy was visible from the front—hairy, bloody, gaping. Her ass was visible from behind—the cheeks spread, the anal exposed.

He aligned his cock. With her pussy. Not her ass. Not yet. He pushed inside. From behind. The angle was different. Deeper. The head hit the front wall of her canal. The G-spot. She had never known it existed. The sensation was new—a sharp, electric pleasure that radiated from a point inside her that she did not know she had.

"AAAH—!!" she cried. Her eyes went wide. "What— what is— that— that feels— HAAANGH—!!"

He fucked her.

Hard. Fast. The new angle. The new sensation. Her leg on his shoulder. Her ass against his groin. His balls slapping her perineum. The sound was different—wetter, meatier. The foam was thicker. Her pussy was producing so much fluid that it ran down her thigh. Down his thigh. Onto the stone.

PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH—

"AAAANGH—!! HNNGH—!! SOMETHING— SOMETHING IS— I CAN FEEL— HAAANGH—!! WHAT IS— WHAT IS HAPPENING—!!"

She felt something building. Inside her. A pressure. A heat. A wave. It was climbing. Rising. Gathering in her lower belly, in her clit, in her walls, in every nerve ending that his cock was touching. She had never felt it before. She did not know what it was. She was terrified of it.

"Wait—!" she gasped. "Wait— I can feel something—! I— something is—!"

He pulled out.

Twelve inches. Out. Her pussy gaped. The sudden emptiness was shocking. The sudden absence was worse than the fullness. Her walls spasmed. They searched for the cock. They clenched on nothing. They convulsed. Her clit throbbed. The wave was still building. Still climbing. Unfulfilled.

She squatted.

Not on purpose. Her body moved. Her legs folded. She went into a squat—knees apart, ass down, pussy hovering above the stone. Her fingers went to her cunt. She rubbed. Fast. Desperate. Her body was searching for the wave. For the release. For the thing that had been building and had been denied.

Juices flowed. From her pussy. Onto her fingers. Onto the stone. Clear. Thick. The scent was sharp. Musky. The scent of a woman in arousal—the drug, the fucking, the denial.

She cried. She rubbed. She sobbed.

"I can feel something—!" she gasped. "I— I need— I do not know what I need— but I need— please—!"

He slammed his cock.

Into her pussy. From behind. She was still squatting. The angle was brutal. The head drove upward. Into her cervix. Into her womb. The bulge returned to her belly. The stretch was worse—she was tight in this position, her thighs pressing her walls together, her canal narrowed by the squat.

"AAAAANGH—!!" she screamed. "NO—!! TOO DEEP—!! YOU ARE— HAAANGH—!!"

"Can I fill you, bitch?" he said.

His voice was in her ear. Low. Rough. The calm was gone. The devil was gone. What was left was something else. Something raw. Something hungry.

"Can I fill your womb with my seed?"

She cried. Her whole body was at his mercy. His hands were on her hips. He was moving her. Lifting her. Swinging her up and down on his cock like a pendulum. She was a ragdoll. A toy. A body being used. Her arms hung limp. Her head was back. Her mouth was open. Her tongue was out. Her eyes were rolled back. Her breasts—heaving. The nipples pointing at the cave ceiling. The rain misted them. Cold on hot. Her belly bulged and flattened with each swing. Each impact. Each time her ass hit his thighs.

PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH—

"AAAANGH—!! HNNGH—!! KYAAH—!! HAAANGH—!!"

He kept her in the air.

One hand on her hip. The other on her thigh. He held her. Suspended. Her feet were off the ground. Her weight was on his cock. Her pussy was impaled. Her walls were stretched to their limit. The head was in her womb. She could feel it. The pressure. The fullness. The invasion of her most sacred space.

He slammed.

One final thrust. Deep. Total. His hips drove upward. His balls slapped her ass. His cock buried itself to the root. The base pressed against her clit. The shaft throbbed.

He came.

The first pulse was hot. Thick. It shot into her womb. She felt it. The liquid heat. The thickness. It filled her. Pulse after pulse. Spurt after spurt. His cock throbbed inside her. Each throb sent another wave of seed into her womb. Her belly distended. Not from the cock—from the cum. The volume was enormous. Inhuman. Her womb filled. Her canal filled. The seed backed up. It overflowed. It poured from her entrance. Around the shaft. Down her thighs. Down his thighs. Onto the stone. White on gray. Thick. Hot. Steaming in the cold air.

"AAAAANGH—!!" she screamed. "I CAN— I CAN FEEL IT—!! IT IS— IT IS SO HOT—!! IT IS— HNNGH—!! FILLING ME—!! HAAANGH—!!"

He pulled out.

The cock emerged. The seed followed. A thick, white flood. It poured from her gaping pussy. It ran down her thighs. It pooled on the stone. Her pussy convulsed. Her walls spasmed. The cum bubbled from her entrance—thick, white, viscous. Her tongue was out. Her body was arched. Her back was bent. Her hands were on the stone. Her fingers were white.

She trembled.

Vigorously. Her entire body. Her teeth chattered. Her knees knocked. Her hands shook. Her belly—still bulging with seed—quivered. Her thighs—covered in blood and cum and slick—trembled.

"Please—" she sobbed. "Please— no more— hic— please— I cannot— sob— I cannot take more— please—"

Her tongue was out. Her eyes were rolled back. Her body was arched. She looked broken. She looked ruined. She looked like a woman who had been fucked to the edge of her existence.

He placed her on the ground.

He laid her on her back. On the cold stone. The rain misted her. The cold water hit her belly. Hit the cum. Hit her pussy. The contrast made her gasp.

He entered the mating press.