Chapter 82 Yield (R18)
The contrast between her flushed, stretched pussy and the untouched innocence of her rear only heightened the depravity of the scene.
The sight nearly pushed Peter over the edge, his body trembling as he fought to keep himself in check. Not yet.
He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to hold back, the promise of release building into an unbearable ache.
Without even realizing it, Peter was fixated on one goal—to experience the most intense orgasm of his life, one that would surpass anything he had ever felt before.
This would, of course, come at the expense of his girlfriend, Maya—but Peter didn't care.
Lost in his own twisted pleasure and consumed by the darkness of this depraved game, his thoughts no longer lingered on her suffering.
All that mattered to him now was the final push, the climax he was chasing with reckless abandon.
Peter's breaths grew heavier, the heat in his body almost unbearable. He felt shame curling in his gut, yet he couldn't bring himself to look away.
His hand moved over his throbbing cock, slow and uncertain at first, but picking up speed as his arousal overpowered his guilt.
His 7-inch length stood firm, but compared to Ross's monstrous 15-inch cock, it felt insignificant, like an afterthought in the presence of something so overwhelming.
"Fuck…" Peter whispered to himself, his voice trembling as he stroked himself harder. The scene before him was so obscene, so raw, that he felt like he was sinking deeper into some forbidden abyss.
Ross, meanwhile, seemed completely unbothered by Peter's presence. His focus remained on Maya, his hips snapping forward with ruthless precision.
Every movement was deliberate, calculated, designed to push her further and further past her limits.
He leaned forward slightly, his tall frame towering over her trembling body, his grin widening as he watched her futile attempts to resist the sensations coursing through her.
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Maya's cries continued, each one laced with pain and something else—something harder to identify.
At first, Peter thought it was just exhaustion, the sound of someone who had simply given up. But then, at the thirty-minute mark, the tone shifted.
"Ahhhhhhhh…"
The sound that escaped Maya's lips was different. It wasn't the pained cry Peter had been hearing up until now. It was softer, lighter, and tinged with something that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.
Peter froze, his hand pausing mid-stroke as his ears strained to take in the sound. It was unfamiliar, unlike anything he'd ever heard from her before.
It carried with it an unsettling mix of resignation and reluctant pleasure—a sound that made his heart ache and his cock throb all at once.
Ross smirked at the change, his sharp eyes flicking toward Peter.
"Hear that, Peter?" he said, his voice laced with mockery. "Your sweet little Maya's starting to come around. She's starting to feel it now. When this night ends, you'll only be a memory to her. A bad one."
Peter's jaw tightened, but he couldn't respond. His mouth felt dry, his mind racing as he processed Ross's words.
The Maya he thought he knew—the pure, untouchable girl he had always admired—was slipping away.
Her cries, her moans, even her trembling body—all of it was being claimed by Ross, bit by bit, with every punishing thrust.
And yet, Peter couldn't stop watching. His hand resumed its movement, faster now, as shame and desire warred within him.
He wanted to look away, to pretend this wasn't happening, but the sight before him was too consuming, too visceral to ignore.
Ross, satisfied with the effect he was having on both Maya and Peter, leaned down, his voice low and taunting. "Let's see how much more she can take. And Peter? Feel free to keep enjoying the show. You seem to be having the time of your life."
Peter's cheeks burned with humiliation, but his body betrayed him, his strokes becoming frantic as he chased a release he wasn't sure he even wanted anymore.
The tension in the room was suffocating, the lines between pleasure and torment blurring with every passing second.
And through it all, Maya's voice filled the room—a haunting mix of despair, surrender, and something dangerously close to acceptance.
"Noooooo… ugggg… ugggg…" Maya's moans filled the room, wavering between resistance and reluctant acceptance.
Her voice, broken and raw, carried the weight of her internal struggle, but no matter how much she wanted to fight against it, her body was betraying her.
She knew she shouldn't be feeling this way. This wasn't right—none of it was—but the sensations coursing through her were undeniable. It just felt so good.
Her mind screamed at her to resist, to hold on to her dignity, but her body had already begun to succumb.
The sharp, searing pain that had gripped her so tightly at the start was slowly ebbing away. In its place came a new sensation—a deep, pulsating pleasure that spread through her like fire.
Her pussy, stretched impossibly wide around Ross's massive cock, was beginning to adjust, molding itself to accommodate the relentless girth.
The initial agony had softened into something entirely different, something raw and unfamiliar.
Each thrust was powerful and precise, driving into her with a force that left her gasping for air. The fullness was overwhelming, the way Ross's fat, veined cock filled every inch of her making her body tremble uncontrollably.
She hated how her hips began to arch involuntarily, as if they were seeking him out, but she couldn't stop it.
Her breathing came in shallow, uneven pants as her body started to react in ways she didn't understand. A tingling warmth began to spread from her core, radiating outward in waves that made her toes curl.
The wet, obscene sounds of her juices mixing with Ross's every thrust filled the room, adding to the humiliation of the moment.
Perhaps it was the sheer length of time he'd been pounding into her, or perhaps it was her body's instinct to adapt, but her pussy seemed to be softening, yielding to him.
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