Pulse. Pulse. Pulse.
“Corin—!” His name shatters from me as twin blows hammer where I sit. My knees buckle; my cuntweeps, soaking the cotton.
“Do you like it?” His knuckles graze my dripping seam through the panties. I whimper.
Drenched.
“Answer.” A slap lands where my thigh meets my ass—
Stinging, perfect.
It makes my pussy flutter.
“Yesss!” I hiss, rocking back.
Two more. Left cheek. Right.
The next is an open-palmedSMACKthat echoes.
My inner muscles clamp hard,aching, empty.
Wetness spreads across my panties.
“Count.” His command vibrates against my spine.
I don’t know what number. I—
“We’re on fourteen,” he explains.
“F-f-fourteen,” I pant.
Crack!
“Fifteen!” His palm brands me.
Smack!
“S-sixteen—” I sob, pushing back, needing the burn, the fullness, hiscock.
He fists the soaked lace of my panties.
His thumbs spread my cheeks, exposing the glistening slit beneath my panties.
“Look at you.” A low groan tears from him. “Soaked. Swollen.Drippingfor me.”
The eighteenth lands right on my swollen pussy lips through fabric. It’s gentle, but...
“Oh fuck!” I scream, back bowing.
Nineteen and twenty hammer my cheeks again. The skin burns and my hips writhe.
Need. Need. Need.
CRACK!
Twenty-one.
“MINE!” he exclaims.
