My Taboo Harem!-Chapter 305: Overflowing Ruin: Burning the Goddess (r-18)
Hips snapping forward in a punishing rhythm—fast, deep, unyielding—each stroke dragging every veined inch along her sensitive walls, the flared crown kissing her cervix again and again until she sobbed with overstimulation.
Her pussy gaped briefly on every withdrawal—pink inner flesh visible, fluttering open—before swallowing him whole on the next plunge, cream frothing thick and white at the base, bubbling out with every brutal hilt.
She pushed back to meet him—graceful even in ruin—hips rolling in perfect counter-rhythm, ass bouncing against his pelvis, back arching in elegant bows that let him sink even deeper. One hand braced on the desk; the other reached back to grip his thigh, nails digging in, urging him on.
Phei leaned over her—chest to her back, one arm banding around her waist to hold her steady, the other sliding up to collar her throat—not choking, just possessive—thumb stroking the frantic pulse there while he railed her without mercy.
"You feel that?" he growled against her ear, voice wrecked. "Every fucking inch. You’re taking all of me—every godsdamned inch—and you’re still begging for more."
She moaned—loud, shattered—pussy clamping down so hard he nearly lost his rhythm.
"More—please—fuck me like you hate me—!"
He laughed—dark, breathless—then gave her exactly that.
Thrusts turned savage—fast, deep, punishing—desk creaking dangerously under them, wood groaning with every impact. Her breasts dragged across the surface—nipples scraping raw; her ass bounced wildly—cheeks rippling, turning scarlet from the force. Slick poured from her in endless waves—coating his cock, his balls, dripping down her thighs, pooling on the floor beneath them.
She came—harder—screaming his name, walls spasming in brutal waves, squirting so forcefully it splashed his abs, ran down his legs. He didn’t stop. Kept pounding through it—relentless, unyielding—drawing out every aftershock until she was sobbing, trembling, body locked in continuous pleasure-pain.
He felt his own release building—balls tightening, cock swelling thicker inside her, veins pulsing against her fluttering walls.
"Gonna fill you," he growled, hips snapping erratically now. "Gonna pump you so full you’ll feel me for days."
"Do it," she gasped, pushing back harder, meeting every thrust. "Claim me—fill me—make me yours—"
He came with a roar—hips slamming forward one final time, burying himself to the hilt as thick, hot ropes erupted deep inside her. Pulse after pulse flooded her womb—enough that it leaked out around his cock, mixing with her slick, dripping down her thighs in creamy rivulets.
She shattered again right way just from feeling his cock pulse and spasm inside her as he came—final, devastating orgasm ripping through her—pussy milking him dry, walls rippling in endless waves as she screamed into the desk, body convulsing, tears streaking her cheeks.
He stayed buried—grinding slow, deep circles—drawing out every last tremor, every last drop, until they were both shaking, breathless, spent.
Only then did he lean down again—chest to her back—and kiss the nape of her neck.
Soft.
Reverent.
"Be mine, Goddess" he whispered against her sweat-slick skin.
She turned her head just enough to meet his eyes—wrecked, glowing, utterly ruined and utterly satisfied.
"Make me yours, if you can Oh, my, Dragon." she breathed.
Phei felt it—the moment her body accepted him completely, the impossible stretch of twelve inches buried to the hilt without a single flinch of resistance. Her pussy wasn’t just taking him; it was devouring him—walls rippling in greedy, rhythmic pulses, milking every throbbing vein like she’d been starving for this exact cock her entire life.
Slick poured around the base in thick, creamy waves, coating his balls, dripping down her ass crack in obscene rivulets that glistened under the lamplight.
He growled low against her ear, voice rough with awe and hunger.
"You can take more."
Before she could answer, he willed it.
The Dragon Rod surged—thickening, lengthening—two more inches blooming inside her in one slow, searing rush. Fourteen full inches now, impossibly thick, veins pulsing hotter, the flared crown pushing deeper, kissing places no cock had ever reached, stretching her walls to their absolute limit.
Patricia screamed—loud, shattered, head snapping back so hard her spine arched off the desk.
"FUCK—TOO MUCH—TOO DEEP—!"
Yet her hips rolled up to meet him anyway—greedy, desperate—her pussy stretching impossibly wider around the new girth, lips pulled thin and red, clinging to every added inch like it was made for this.
Cream frothed thick and white at the base, bubbling out with every tiny shift, dripping down her ass crack in obscene rivulets, coating her twitching asshole in glossy white.
Then he gave her the Fiery Cock.
Hotter than he’s ever given anyone.
The heat ignited—sudden, molten, radiating from deep inside his shaft outward. Veins glowed pink-crimson under her stretched pussy walls, the entire length burning like liquid fire wrapped in velvet. Not pain.
Pure, devastating pleasure-heat that soaked into every nerve ending in her pussy, making her walls hypersensitive, making her clit throb untouched, making her entire lower body feel like it was melting around him.
She came that very instantly—violent jets of her squirt, full-body—squirting in forceful, endless jets that sprayed around his pistoning cock, soaking his abs, her thighs, the desk, the carpet. Her scream turned into a continuous, high wail—
"BURNING—FUCK—IT’S BURNING SOOOO GOOD—!"—voice cracking raw as her pussy convulsed brutally around his fourteen-inch length, walls rippling in endless, milking waves.
Phei started fucking her faster.
Not savage anymore—relentless, machine-precise, hips snapping forward in a brutal, unceasing rhythm that drove all fourteen inches home again and again.
Each thrust pulled him almost to the crown—her pussy gaping open, pink inner walls visible and fluttering, thick cream stretching in strands—before slamming back in, balls slapping wetly against her clit, the fiery veins dragging molten trails across every sensitive ridge inside her.
Her asshole winked with every deep plunge—tight, pink, untouched but twitching in sympathy as her pussy convulsed around the impossible length. Juices poured from her in endless waves his ealier cum, her squirt—coating his shaft, dripping down his balls, running in rivulets over her perineum, pooling beneath her ass on the desk.
She squirted again—harder—clear jets erupting around his cock on every hilt, splashing his pelvis, her own thighs, the wood beneath them. Her walls clamped down like a fist—spasming, milking, fluttering in violent waves that dragged him toward the edge.
"Gonna—fuck—fill you—" he growled, hips losing rhythm, thrusts turning erratic, desperate.
"Do it—fill me—claim me—!" she sobbed, pushing back to meet every savage stroke, ass bouncing wildly, breasts dragging across the desk, nipples scraped raw.
He came with a roar—fourteen inches buried to the root, cock pulsing violently as thick, hot ropes flooded her womb. Pulse after pulse—enough to overflow, leaking out around his shaft in creamy rivulets, mixing with her squirt, dripping down her ass crack, coating her twitching asshole in white.
She shattered again—final, devastating orgasm ripping through her—pussy clamping so hard it nearly pushed him out, walls rippling in endless waves, squirting one last geyser that soaked them both.
She was coming here and there even faster than Sierra, the Fiery Cock’s heat was so much it felt like each second was like thirty minutes of fast pumps of his cock.
Her scream turned into a long, trembling moan—body convulsing, thighs quaking around his hips, asshole clenching rhythmically in time with her pussy.
He stayed buried—grinding slow, deep circles—drawing out every last tremor, every last drop, the fiery heat still pulsing inside her, keeping her on the razor edge of overstimulation.
When he finally leaned down the third time—chest to her back, lips brushing her ear—he whispered against sweat-slick skin:
"Fourteen inches. All of it. And you took every fucking inch like you were born for it."
She turned her head just enough to meet his eyes—wrecked, glowing, mascara-streaked, utterly ruined and utterly satisfied.
Her voice was hoarse, trembling, triumphant.
"And I’d take more... if you had it to give."
