Evil MC's NTR Harem

Kristine's breath came in short, desperate pants, her eyes squeezed shut.

Her body shook slightly, her pussy gripping him like a vice as she tried to decide if she could handle the rest.

And then, as always, Ross was there.

His hands found her waist—firm, warm, grounding.

With a gentle pull, he guided her downward, helping her overcome the final resistance.

"Ahhh—Ross!" she screamed, her nails digging into his chest.

Her body sank the rest of the way down. All fifteen inches. Every last bit.

Now buried deep inside her, stretching her to her absolute limits.

She sat there, motionless for a moment, eyes wide, mouth parted in stunned awe.

The fullness was unreal. It wasn't just a cock inside her—it was a force. A presence.

Her pussy had molded itself around him, wrapped in heat and slick, trembling tension.

Her womb felt like it had been nudged, her entire lower body dominated by the sheer size of him.

A dull ache lingered where her muscles had been forced to open wider than ever before, but that pain was overwhelmed by something electric.

Pleasure surged outward from her core, radiating into every part of her body—her thighs, her spine, her fingertips, her scalp.

"F-fuck…" she whimpered. "I… I can feel you everywhere."

Ross's eyes locked on hers, dark and intense, filled with a mix of concern and admiration. "Are you okay?"

She looked down at him and gave a shaky, breathless laugh.

"More than okay. I feel… wrecked. And alive. And full. So full…"

He reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek, his thumb grazing her soft skin.

"I've never had anything like this before," she whispered. "No one's ever made me feel like this."

Her hips gave an involuntary roll, and they both groaned at the fresh wave of friction.

Her inner walls clung to him, squeezing, massaging his length.

She began to move—slowly, cautiously—lifting her hips by an inch or two, then sinking back down, testing the limits of her body.

The friction was deep and wet and intense.

"God, Kristine…" Ross muttered, his voice strained, hands tightening on her hips.

"You feel… so amazing. Your pussy is wrapping so tightly around me."

She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest, her lips near his ear.

"I want you to ruin me," she whispered, her breath hot.

"I want to remember this every time I walk… every time I sit… every time I close my eyes."

Her hips began to move in a steady rhythm—up and down, slow and deliberate.

With every bounce, she took him deeper, the pressure mounting, the pleasure intensifying.

Moans filled the room.

Wet, slapping sounds echoed as her soaked cunt devoured him again and again, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of them.

And Kristine, flushed and panting, rode him like he was the only man who had ever mattered.

And in that moment—he was.

"Ahhhh…"

"Ohhhhhh…"

"Ughhh…!"

Kristine cried out again and again, her moans rising and falling like waves as she rode Ross with everything she had.

Her body moved on instinct now, hips rolling, thighs trembling, every motion fueled by the overwhelming pleasure building inside her.

She felt like she was floating—no, like she was being transported to another realm altogether.

Her senses were heightened beyond belief.

Every drag of Ross's massive cock through her tight, dripping pussy sent shocks of ecstasy rippling up her spine.

Her skin was feverish, her nipples hard, her breath coming in quick, ragged gasps.

This was heaven. No… it was beyond heaven.

A familiar tingling began to rise deep inside her belly, low and urgent—a sensation she'd only experienced once before, and never with such intensity.

It was the kind of pleasure that made her toes curl and her mind go blank.

Her body wasn't just reacting—it was craving, demanding more of him, more of this.

Ross's cock was a force of nature—thick, unrelenting, mind-blowingly big.

Every inch stretched her beyond her limit, yet she wanted more. Needed more.

It was no wonder, she thought dimly through the haze of pleasure, that he was able to satisfy so many wives.

He had that rare combination of size, skill, and an almost instinctive knowledge of how to use the monstrous weapon between his legs.

He didn't just fuck—he possessed.

"Hmmmm… ohhhhhh," Kristine moaned deeply, her voice thick with desire and awe.

Her moans were endless, unrestrained, each one a helpless cry of submission to the pleasure consuming her.

Curiosity mixed with her arousal.

She couldn't help but look down, needing to see what her body was enduring—what her pussy was managing to take.

And what she saw nearly made her cum on the spot.

Her pussy looked stretched to the absolute brink, clinging desperately to Ross's monstrous cock.

With each pull, her slick pink folds gripped him like a vice, as if trying to keep him buried inside her forever.

The outline of his thick shaft was clearly visible through her taut flesh—each vein, each pulse.

Waves of her own juices coated his length, glistening in the low light.

Her creamy arousal pooled at the base of his shaft, trickling down to his balls with every wet slap of her hips meeting his.

Her pussy was leaking so much that Ross's cock was gleaming with her fresh, slick nectar—a clear, shameless testament to the erotic bliss she was drowning in.

Her thighs were trembling now. Her body was on the verge of losing control.

Every bounce, every grind, made her feel like she was about to burst.

"Ross…" she gasped, her voice shaking. "I… I can't hold back much longer…"

He looked up at her, his own expression tense with restraint, sweat glistening on his chest. "Then don't," he said, voice low and commanding. "Let go, Kristine. Let me feel you break on my cock."

Her body reacted before her mind could even process his words.

Her pussy clenched hard around him, fluttering wildly, as the pressure deep inside her finally reached its breaking point.

She was right there—on the edge of ecstasy, seconds away from falling apart.