Apocalypse : Transmigrated With Milf System-Chapter 34: Tasting The Cougar Again

The echoes of their shared climax still hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and arousal.

Ruel remained deeply buried within Elara, his shaft throbbing softly as his life's essence pulsed within her.

Elara's legs, still draped over his broad shoulders, trembled with exhaustion and satiation.

Ruel withdrew slowly, the sound of their parting slick and wet.

He gazed at Elara, her face flushed, her eyes half-closed in a haze of pleasure. A possessive smirk curved his lips.

He could feel the heat radiating from her core, the evidence of his potent seed painting her inner walls.

"I shall mark your walls white with my seeds," he growled, the word a low, possessive rumble.

"Hnngh❤️" Elara moaned softly, her only response a slight nod.

She was still too overwhelmed by the intensity of their encounter to form coherent words.

But Ruel wasn't finished.

His desire for her was insatiable, fueled by the power he now wielded and the intoxicating mix of her submission and passion.

With his shaft still as hard as rock, he shifted her slightly, his hands gripping her thighs.

He lifted her legs higher, positioning them so her feet rested against his shoulders.

This new angle exposed her completely, presenting him with an even more intimate view.

Elara gasped as he repositioned her, a thrill of anticipation mixed with a hint of trepidation coursing through her.

She felt incredibly open, utterly at his mercy.

Ruel wasted no time.

He lunged forward, his engorged member plunging deep within her once more.

The sound of their slick flesh meeting was loud and visceral—a wet, smacking "Clap... Schlap... Thwack!" that reverberated through the room.

Each thrust was deep and forceful, the impact echoing with a raw, primal intensity.

"Fuck, you're incredible," Ruel grunted, his muscles straining with each powerful thrust.

"So tight, so hot. I can't get enough of you."

Elara's head thrashed against the dressing bench, her hair a tangled mess. But she was far from protesting.

With every thrust, she felt herself spiraling further into a vortex of sensation.

"Ruel," she gasped, her voice hoarse and raw. "Yes...❤️ Don't stop...❤️ Please...❤️"

The rhythmic pounding continued, a primal rhythm that drove them both to the edge.

The sounds of their bodies—the wet "Clap... Smack...❤️ Thwack❤️!" of flesh against flesh, their ragged breathing, and Elara's cries of pleasure—filled the room, creating a symphony of lust and abandon.

-

The rhythmic "Clap... Smack... Thwack!" of flesh on flesh echoed through the dressing room, a primal symphony that drowned out all other sounds.

"Haanngh...❤️ Annh...❤️" Elara's cries, a mix of pleasure and submission, were punctuated by Ruel's harsh, guttural grunts.

Unbeknownst to them, just outside the door, Anya stood frozen.

She'd been walking absentmindedly through the alleyway, Ruel's last words replaying in her mind,

when suddenly the sharp screams and desperate panting had caught her attention.

Curiosity overriding caution, she'd crept closer, her hand instinctively reaching for the weapon concealed beneath her coat.

Nearing the dressing room, she peered through a crack in the door, but her eyes widening in disbelief at the scene unfolding before her.

It was Elara, her loyal bodyguard, being ravished by Ruel.

Elara's head thrashed against the dressing bench while both legs raised above, her eyes rolled back in ecstasy as Ruel rammed into her with merciless force.

Anya watched, mesmerized, as Elara's body arched and convulsed, expelling multiple gushes of fluid with each deep thrust.

The wet "Squirt...❤️ squirt...❤️ squirt❤️!" was shockingly loud in the confined space.

Anya's mind reeled. This wasn't the controlled, polite intimacy she was fammiliar with.

This was something raw, primal, something she'd only ever witnessed in the most explicit of forbidden films.

Her own sexual experiences with her husband had been... civilized, restrained.

She'd been a loyal wife, her fidelity unwavering to the core of traditionality.

But this... this shattered her carefully constructed reality.

Her heart pounded in her chest, a frantic rhythm mirroring the pounding she witnessed through the crack.

Her breath came in short, shallow gasps.

A wave of heat washed over her, and a strange, unfamiliar sensation bloomed in her core.

Her panties began to dampen, then soak, with a thick, slick fluid.

She couldn't tear her eyes away.

Ruel's powerful thrusts, the way Elara's body yielded and writhed, the sheer physicality of it all... it was intoxicating.

For the first time, she imagined herself in Elara's position, being taken with such raw abandon.

The thought sent a shiver of both shame and intense arousal down her spine.

Looking down, she was mortified to see a puddle forming at her feet.

Her hand, as if with a mind of its own, slipped beneath her skirt, her fingers finding her swollen, aching core.

She began to stroke herself, mimicking the rhythm of Ruel's thrusts, her other hand cupping and teasing her own breast.

The wet sounds of her own arousal - the soft "Squish... squelch...❤️ mmm...❤️" were almost as loud as the sounds from the room.

She was on the verge of losing complete control, her body trembling with the force of her building orgasm.

But even as she teetered on the edge, she couldn't break free from the scene before her.

She was a prisoner of her own lust, a silent voyeur consumed by the spectacle of their primal coupling. Her fingers moved faster, more urgently, the sounds of her heavy breathing mingling with the "Clap... Smack... Thwack!❤️" from the other side of the door.

Inside the room, Ruel, his senses heightened, had become aware of another presence.

A faint shift in the air, a subtle change in the energy in the room.

He smirked, a slow, predatory curve of his lips as he sensed the actions of the person peeping through the door.

He knew someone was watching.

He'd laid the bait, and the hunt had begun.

He continued his relentless assault on Elara, his thrusts even deeper, even more forceful, playing to his unseen audience.

Elara quivered beneath him, her body convulsing with a series of intense orgasms.

"pah... pah... pah... pah..." Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through her, more intense than anything she had ever experienced.

The wet "Squirt... squirt... squirt!" of her release punctuated the rhythmic pounding, a testament to Ruel's merciless power.

Ruel, feeling her climax, roared his own pleasure.

"Smack...." He gave one final, earth-shattering thrust, burying himself to the hilt as he emptied his seed deep within her.

"Aanngh...❤️ Hnngh..❤️" Elara cried out, her body arching off the bench in a paroxysm of ecstasy.

His hot seed filled her to the brim.

His shaft, still rock-hard, throbbed within her. Instead of withdrawing, Ruel shifted Elara, his hands gripping her hips and lifting her.

He didn't need to say a word. Elara, her eyes glazed with lust and submission, understood his unspoken command.

She turned, her movements fluid and eager.

She dropped to her hands and knees, spreading her legs wide, her stomach pressed against the dressing bench, her back arched high.

It was a position of complete vulnerability, total surrender. It was a position designed to offer him complete access.

Ruel smirked, his predatory gaze sweeping over her exposed form.

"Good girl," he growled, his voice thick with lust and satisfaction.

As a reward for her eagerness, he gave her the hardest, deepest thrust he could muster.

Elara screamed, the sound a mixture of pain and overwhelming pleasure.

Her body bucked beneath him, her muscles clenching around his shaft.

Outside the door, Anya gasped, her own orgasm triggered by the sheer intensity of the scene.

The wet "Squirt... squirt... squirt!" echoed her own release.

Ruel, his eyes narrowed, turned Elara's head to face the door.

He positioned himself behind her, his hands planted firmly on the dressing bench on either side of her.

He began to fuck her, his thrusts deep and powerful, his gaze fixed on the slightly ajar door.

He could see Anya's silhouette, bent and contorted, her hand moving rhythmically between her legs.

Anya was playing with herself, her eyes glued to the spectacle of Elara's ravaging.

Suddenly, Anya's eyes met Ruel's.

A jolt of shock, mixed with a potent cocktail of embarrassment and arousal, shot through her.

She gasped, her orgasm exploding from her in a rush of pure sensation.

The force of it made her legs tremble, and she nearly lost her balance.

But even caught, she couldn't look away.

Her fingers continued their frantic dance, fueled by the knowledge that Ruel was watching her, his gaze burning into her.

She moaned, a sound that was both a plea and an invitation.

Ruel's smirk deepened.

He drove into Elara harder, his thrusts becoming more insistent, more demanding.

The sounds of their coupling - the "Clap... Smack... Thwack!" of flesh on flesh, Elara's cries, his guttural grunts - filled the room, a blatant display for Anya's benefit.

Finally, after long waves of deep thrusts and multiple creampies, Ruel slowed to a stop, his body shuddering with release.

AHe withdrew, leaving Elara slick and sated, and the room heavy with the scent of sex.