His penis burled deep inside of me, myself losing all senses except desire.
I breathed his name over and over again, as he mercilessly rammed with animal-like instinct.
His calloused hands roughly stroked and pumped my own penis, euphoria flooding my entire body. His groans were throaty, I could tell he was trying to restrain them, but failing miserably.
His kisses on my back, causing the sweat to burn, were heavenly.
He quickly flipped me over, plunging deeper then before. He slung my legs over his shoulders; a carnivorous look spread across his sculpted features as he dived in for another passionate, hungry kiss.
He braced his arms above my shoulders, ensuring I didn't slip away and pounded.
At this time I could tell I was bleeding, but I wasn't concerned. His erection was striking my prostate, causing my toes to curl with every movement.
He pressed our stomachs together, my lower legs flailing in the air, eyes rolling backward at the smooth friction on my erection.
I could feel myself coming close.
I urged him further with breathy calls and moans, gasps and grunts.
Hearing him breathe my name as he latched himself onto my neck was all I needed for my long-awaited release. I screamed out his name, my back arching me into his well-muscled chest. Warm streams of seed spurted onto both of our torsos messily, my breaths erratic. Especially so as I heard him grunt my name with such force, feeling fluids pour inside of me.
Unable to hold on any longer, I released my hold of his neck, flopping back onto the bed with a thump.
He stared down at me, breaths desperate for air. His sword-calloused hand cupped my cheek, tenderly stroking it with a thumb. His arms steadily gave way and he collapsed beside me, his arm protectively draped around my waist.
He whispered into my ear, his fingers playing with my teal locks.
I suddenly felt the tearing pain in my bottom flare.
I cried out, voice smeared with agony. He looked down at me awkwardly, noting the blood streaked on the sheets.
I clutched his arms tightly, whimpering.
The pain was far past unbearable.
It felt as though someone was tearing me in two, slowly. Agonizingly, torturously slow.
He flipped me over, following the trail of blood, and gasped. I managed to sputter a question, concerning what he had found. He gently rubbed my lower back, stating that my anal hole had torn. I hung my head in horror, it seemed my first time would also be my last for a while. He continued to rub my back soothingly, apologizing sheepishly about being a brute.
I laughed. He could never be a brute.
Not my Ike.