You break. A needy sound tears from your throat, your voice raw with it. “Fuck me hard.”
Aaron’s grip turns punishing. Instead of turning you , he hauls you up by the hips, positioning you on all fours in one rough motion. The bed creaks under the shift, your chest pressed into the mattress, your ass in the air, exposed. His palm cracks against your left cheek—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you gasp, the sting blooming into heat. “Since you asked so nice,” he growls, his voice dark with promise. His fingers dig into your hips, his thumbs spreading you wider, his breath hot against the back of your thigh. You can feel the weight of his gaze, the way he’s drinking in the sight of you, splayed and trembling, already leaking for him.
His cock presses against your hole, thick and insistent, the barbell in his crown dragging against your rim. You moan, low and desperate, pushing back against him, your body begging for more. He doesn’t make you wait. One brutal thrust, and he’s buried to the hilt, the stretch burning, the pressure overwhelming. You cry out, your fingers clawing at the sheets, your cock dripping onto the bed beneath you.
“Fuck—” His voice is a rough groan, his hips snapping forward, his balls slapping against you with every thrust. The trailer groans around you, the bed shaking, but neither of you care. His cock drags against that spot inside you, his piercings adding a sharp, electric edge to every stroke. His hand comes down on your ass again, lighter this time, just enough to make you whimper, your body clenching around him. “Look at you,” he pants, his voice a filthy praise. “Taking it like you were made for it.”
You’re moaning through every thrust, your body rocking back to meet him, your cock heavy and leaking, swinging with the force of his movements. His hand cracks against your ass once more, the sound sharp in the quiet, and you sob, your body trembling, your need coiling tighter, tighter—
His hand wraps around your cock, his grip rough, his strokes uneven as he jerks you in time with his thrusts. “Gonna milk you dry,” he snarls, his voice a dark command. His thumb presses against your taint, his touch possessive, his cock buried deep. “Gonna fuck this pretty hole until you can’t walk.”
You’re babbling, words spilling from your lips in broken fragments—please, more, don’t stop—but he doesn’t need encouragement. His body moves like a machine, his cock pistoning into you, his breath hot against your skin. The sounds he makes are animalistic, grunts and groans and filthy praises, his voice rough with need. “So fuckin’ good,” he pants. “Like you were built for this. For me.”
His thumb circles your taint, pressing hard, and his cock hits that spot inside you over and over, his piercings dragging against your walls. Your cock leaks in his grip, precum dripping down his fingers, and he uses it, his touch slick and punishing. “Come on,” he snarls, his voice a command. “Let go. Want to feel you drown in it.”
And you do.
Your orgasm rips through you, your cock pulsing in his grip, cum splattering across the sheets beneath you. Your ass clamps down around him, the muscles fluttering, milking his cock, and it only makes him wilder. His hips snap forward, his skin slapping against yours, the sound wet and obscene. “Fuck, yes,” he growls, his voice rough, his control unraveling. “Squeeze me like that again, baby, and I’ll wreck you.”
He doesn’t let up. Just keeps fucking you through it, his cock slidning in and out, his piercings dragging against your walls, the barbell in his crown hitting that spot over and over until your vision whites out. You’re oversensitive, your body trembling, but he doesn’t care. He’s lost to it now, his breath ragged, his muscles coiled tight.
And then, with a brutal curse, he slams home one last time, his hips pressing flush against your ass, his cock buried so deep you can feel the pulse of him as he comes. His cum is hot, thick, and you can feel it leaking out around him even as he stays buried to the hilt, his hips grinding against you, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “Fuck,” he pants, his body trembling with the force of his release.
Then he pulls out with a loud, wet pop, his cock glistening with cum, the barbell catching the light as it slips free. Your legs give out, your body collapsing onto the bed, spent and sore and aching for more.
Aaron smirks, his lips swollen, his beard glistening with sweat. He reaches for his vape on the nightstand, takes a long drag, and exhales a cloud of smoke, his eyes dark with promise. “Round two’s comin’ later,” he says, his voice a low, amused growl. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget your own name.”
And then he’s standing, turning, giving you one last view of that ass—muscles flexing, the silver ring in the dip of his lower back winking at you—as he saunters out of the room, naked and unashamed, leaving you sprawled on the bed, your body humming with the aftershocks of what he just did to you.
Fuck.
You’re already counting the minutes.
Aaron’s grip turns punishing. Instead of turning you , he hauls you up by the hips, positioning you on all fours in one rough motion. The bed creaks under the shift, your chest pressed into the mattress, your ass in the air, exposed. His palm cracks against your left cheek—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you gasp, the sting blooming into heat. “Since you asked so nice,” he growls, his voice dark with promise. His fingers dig into your hips, his thumbs spreading you wider, his breath hot against the back of your thigh. You can feel the weight of his gaze, the way he’s drinking in the sight of you, splayed and trembling, already leaking for him.
His cock presses against your hole, thick and insistent, the barbell in his crown dragging against your rim. You moan, low and desperate, pushing back against him, your body begging for more. He doesn’t make you wait. One brutal thrust, and he’s buried to the hilt, the stretch burning, the pressure overwhelming. You cry out, your fingers clawing at the sheets, your cock dripping onto the bed beneath you.
“Fuck—” His voice is a rough groan, his hips snapping forward, his balls slapping against you with every thrust. The trailer groans around you, the bed shaking, but neither of you care. His cock drags against that spot inside you, his piercings adding a sharp, electric edge to every stroke. His hand comes down on your ass again, lighter this time, just enough to make you whimper, your body clenching around him. “Look at you,” he pants, his voice a filthy praise. “Taking it like you were made for it.”
You’re moaning through every thrust, your body rocking back to meet him, your cock heavy and leaking, swinging with the force of his movements. His hand cracks against your ass once more, the sound sharp in the quiet, and you sob, your body trembling, your need coiling tighter, tighter—
His hand wraps around your cock, his grip rough, his strokes uneven as he jerks you in time with his thrusts. “Gonna milk you dry,” he snarls, his voice a dark command. His thumb presses against your taint, his touch possessive, his cock buried deep. “Gonna fuck this pretty hole until you can’t walk.”
You’re babbling, words spilling from your lips in broken fragments—please, more, don’t stop—but he doesn’t need encouragement. His body moves like a machine, his cock pistoning into you, his breath hot against your skin. The sounds he makes are animalistic, grunts and groans and filthy praises, his voice rough with need. “So fuckin’ good,” he pants. “Like you were built for this. For me.”
His thumb circles your taint, pressing hard, and his cock hits that spot inside you over and over, his piercings dragging against your walls. Your cock leaks in his grip, precum dripping down his fingers, and he uses it, his touch slick and punishing. “Come on,” he snarls, his voice a command. “Let go. Want to feel you drown in it.”
And you do.
Your orgasm rips through you, your cock pulsing in his grip, cum splattering across the sheets beneath you. Your ass clamps down around him, the muscles fluttering, milking his cock, and it only makes him wilder. His hips snap forward, his skin slapping against yours, the sound wet and obscene. “Fuck, yes,” he growls, his voice rough, his control unraveling. “Squeeze me like that again, baby, and I’ll wreck you.”
He doesn’t let up. Just keeps fucking you through it, his cock slidning in and out, his piercings dragging against your walls, the barbell in his crown hitting that spot over and over until your vision whites out. You’re oversensitive, your body trembling, but he doesn’t care. He’s lost to it now, his breath ragged, his muscles coiled tight.
And then, with a brutal curse, he slams home one last time, his hips pressing flush against your ass, his cock buried so deep you can feel the pulse of him as he comes. His cum is hot, thick, and you can feel it leaking out around him even as he stays buried to the hilt, his hips grinding against you, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “Fuck,” he pants, his body trembling with the force of his release.
Then he pulls out with a loud, wet pop, his cock glistening with cum, the barbell catching the light as it slips free. Your legs give out, your body collapsing onto the bed, spent and sore and aching for more.
Aaron smirks, his lips swollen, his beard glistening with sweat. He reaches for his vape on the nightstand, takes a long drag, and exhales a cloud of smoke, his eyes dark with promise. “Round two’s comin’ later,” he says, his voice a low, amused growl. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget your own name.”
And then he’s standing, turning, giving you one last view of that ass—muscles flexing, the silver ring in the dip of his lower back winking at you—as he saunters out of the room, naked and unashamed, leaving you sprawled on the bed, your body humming with the aftershocks of what he just did to you.
Fuck.
You’re already counting the minutes.