Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 1246: Chapter 1246 Athlete

Ross groaned low in his throat, feeling her flutter and milk him. He held still again—letting her ride the aftershocks—until her breathing steadied just enough.

Then he gave her the rest.

One long, unrelenting push.

The final inches sank home—slow, deep, merciless—until his hips met the curve of her ass and he was buried to the hilt.

Fifteen thick inches filled her completely; the blunt head kissed her cervix, stretching her so wide her pussy lips were pulled taut around his base, clinging obscenely.

Anita’s whole body seized—back arching sharply, mouth falling open in a silent scream that finally broke into a long, trembling wail.

“Ohhhh… fuuuck… Ross… I can’t… it’s too deep…”

But she didn’t push him away.

Her hips rocked—tiny, helpless circles—grinding herself on him, feeling every pulsing vein, every ridge, the heavy weight of his balls pressed against her clit.

Tears slipped down her cheeks now, mixing guilt and ecstasy; her husband’s name flickered in her mind one last time before dissolving under the tidal wave of sensation.

Ross stayed buried inside her, motionless for long seconds, letting her adjust to the impossible fullness.

His cock throbbed hard, leaking steadily, mixing with her arousal until everything between them was slick and hot and filthy.

Then, finally, he spoke—voice rough, reverent, possessive.

“That’s it, baby. All of me. Every fucking inch.”

He flexed once—deliberately—making his cock swell thicker inside her stretched channel.

Anita shattered again—another orgasm ripping through her without warning, pussy spasming violently around him, squirting weakly against his base as her body convulsed beneath him.

Ross exhaled a slow, satisfied breath.

He wasn’t done.

Not even close.

He began to move—slow withdrawals that dragged every ridge along her sensitive walls, followed by equally slow, deep re-entries that bottomed out each time—claiming her completely, inch by devastating inch, until the last threads of resistance snapped and all that remained was the raw, animal need to be filled by him.

Over and over.

Five minutes later, the last fragile threads of hesitation had snapped.

Ross’s restraint evaporated. What started as slow, testing strokes had built into something primal, unstoppable.

His hips snapped forward with brutal precision—each thrust driving every one of his fifteen thick inches balls-deep into Anita’s stretched, dripping pussy.

Pak.

Pak.

Pak.

The wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin filled the room like gunfire—sharp, relentless, echoing off the walls.

His heavy balls smacked against her clit with every punishing plunge, sending fresh jolts through her oversensitive nerves.

Anita’s moans had long since fractured into continuous, broken cries—high and desperate, muffled only when she buried her face in the cushion, fingers clawing at the leather like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

“Fuck—Ross—too hard—oh god—”

But her body contradicted every word.

Her hips rocked back to meet him, greedy and shameless, ass lifting higher with each impact as if begging for more.

Her pussy clenched around him like a fist—hot, slick, fluttering wildly—milking his massive cock with every withdrawal, trying to keep him buried inside her.

Thick strands of her arousal clung to his shaft, stretching obscenely every time he pulled back almost to the tip before slamming home again.

Creamy white foam gathered at the base of his cock from the sheer friction and volume of her wetness; it dripped in slow, viscous trails down her inner thighs, pooling on the sofa beneath them.

Ross gripped her hips with bruising force—fingers digging into the soft flesh, leaving red imprints that would darken to purple by morning.

He used the leverage to yank her back onto him harder, deeper, setting a punishing rhythm that made the entire sectional creak and shift beneath them.

Pak.

Pak.

Pak.

Each thrust bottomed out—his blunt head kissing her cervix, stretching her so wide her pussy lips were pulled taut and flushed dark red around his girth.

Anita’s back arched sharply; her spine bowed like a drawn bowstring.

A fresh orgasm ripped through her without warning—violent, full-body—her walls spasming so hard they nearly pushed him out, only for Ross to drive right back through the fluttering resistance.

“Fuck—yes—squeeze me like that,” he growled, voice rough and strained.

Sweat dripped from his brow onto her oiled back; he leaned over her fully now, chest pressed to her spine, one arm banding around her waist to hold her in place while the other slid up to palm one heavy, swaying breast through her bra.

He pinched her nipple hard—twisting just enough to make her cry out—then soothed it with a rough thumb.

Anita’s legs trembled uncontrollably; her toes curled against the cushion.

Another climax followed on the heels of the first—overlapping, relentless—her pussy gushing around him in hot, rhythmic pulses.

She squirted weakly against his pelvis, the clear fluid splashing his abs and running down his balls in warm rivulets.

“Ross—can’t—too much—gonna break—”

“You’re not breaking,” he rasped against her ear, hips never slowing. “You’re taking it. Every fucking inch. Look how your cunt’s gripping me—look how wet you are for this cock.”

He shifted his angle slightly—tilting his hips downward so the thick ridge along the underside of his shaft dragged mercilessly over her G-spot with every stroke.

“Ahhhhhhh!” Anita’s scream cracked the air—raw, animalistic—her whole body seizing as orgasm number three or four—she’d lost count… tore through her like lightning.

Her vision whited out for seconds; her pussy clamped down so tight Ross had to grit his teeth to keep thrusting through the vise-like grip.

Pak.

Pak.

Pak.

He didn’t let up.

Not for a second.

His pace blurred—hips pistoning faster now, the sound of their bodies colliding turning into one continuous, filthy rhythm.

Anita’s moans dissolved into wordless sobs of pleasure and overstimulation; tears streaked her cheeks, mixing with sweat.

Guilt still flickered somewhere deep in her mind—her husband’s name a distant echo—but it was drowned out completely by the overwhelming reality of Ross inside her: stretching her, filling her, owning her in a way no one ever had.

Ross felt his own release building—balls tightening, cock swelling even thicker inside her—but he fought it back.