The second and third rounds were more intense, more hardcore. Emma’s desire for pleasure consumed her, her body craving each orgasm with a ferocity she hadn’t known possible. By the fourth round, she was completely uninhibited, her needs overriding any sense of restraint.
“Fill me,” she demanded, her voice desperate. “I want your cum, all of it.”
I gripped her hips, my thrusts becoming more urgent, more relentless. “You’re going to get it,” I promised, my voice hoarse with need. “Every last drop.”
Emma’s body was a tempest of sensation, each thrust pushing her closer to the edge. Her cries filled the room, her pregnant belly glistening with sweat as she arched her back, her orgasm building to an unbearable peak.
“Now,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “Please, now.”
With a final, powerful thrust, I buried myself deep within her, my body tensing as I released my fourth load of cum, hot and abundant, filling her completely. My groans were deep and primal, my body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.
Emma cried out, her own orgasm crashing over her like a wave, her body convulsing around me. The sensation was overwhelming—my cum spilling into her, my cock pulsing with each spurt. She felt full, satisfied, complete.
As our breaths slowed, I collapsed beside her pulling her close. Emma smiled, her body still trembling with the aftermath of pleasure. Her pregnant belly glistened with sweat, a testament to the intensity of our encounter.
“That was…” she began, her voice trailing off as she searched for words.
“Perfect,” I finished, my hands brushing her hair. “Absolutely perfect.”
I remember looking at Emma as she closed her eyes, fulfilment washing over her. The day had been everything I had hoped for and more. As she drifted into a contented sleep, I showered, dressed, and sent a Whatsapp to Anthony.
“We have had a perfectly decadent day. Your wife will want your attention once you arrive back to the hotel.
Simon.”
|
