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Stepping back, Arthur looked on at Vespa, who lay sprawled across the bed, heaving with hard breaths. Her chest rose and fell in unsteady rhythm, her full breasts gleaming under the low light of his room, dark skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Her liquids had stained the sheets beneath her, and the aroma drifting off her body hit him in waves.
Sweet. Like honey.
Standing rock hard, Arthur let himself enjoy the sight.
He walked up and ran his hands along her legs. "You can't be tired already. We've only just begun." He shook his head slowly. "I've only come once, and yet you've already laid ruined underneath me twice now." His voice dropped into a mock pout. "You gotta help your husband out. Make him feel good."
Vespa looked up at him from the bed, chin tilted, unbothered.
"You're right, babe. I haven't been doing a very good job." A pause, perfectly timed. "Maybe it's the fact that someone keeps fucking me so hard I don't get a chance to use my womanly charms."
"Well then." Arthur held out his hands, open, offering her the reins. "By all means."
Her smile spread slow.
"With pleasure."
She looked wrecked. Done. Sprawled out and barely holding herself together.
Then she sat up — one smooth motion — and everything changed. The glassy eyes cleared. The slack expression sharpened. The trembling simply stopped, as if she'd reached inside herself and flipped a switch, and every trace of the mess she'd been vanished like it had never existed.
'Uh-oh.'
He didn't get another second to think about it. Vespa grabbed him by the sides and flipped the situation entirely, pushing him up the bed and pressing his hands down against the mattress. Arthur's muscles pulled against her grip immediately — straining, forcing, throwing real strength into it.
His hands didn't move an inch.
"But honey." She looked down at him, tongue dragging slow across her bottom lip. "Just relax." Her amber eyes moved over him like he was something she'd been waiting to unwrap. "You don't have to do anything at all." She leaned in, close enough that her breath touched his jaw. "Trust me. Your wife's gonna wring you dry."
'Predator.'
That was the only word for the look on her face.
And it clicked — all at once, the full picture assembling behind his eyes. While he'd spent the night fighting for control, holding himself back, working to give her a good time on his terms — Vespa had been doing the exact same thing. Just differently. The wife act, the gasping, the way she'd collapsed into that disheveled heap — genuine enough. But underneath it, something had quietly shifted.
She'd just stopped letting him think he was winning.
She wasn't playing wife anymore.
She was treating him like her husband.
She lowered herself onto him, rubbing her pussy against his cock her folds spreading around it, grinding slow. Her pussy smothered him in her liquids as her hips rolled with practiced ease, teasing him relentlessly. Her hands pressed down on his sides, and when he tried to push back, to find his own leverage she held him down with ease. Her gold tier strength overpowering him and when he tried to open his mouth to refute.
Vespa's tail whipped up to his face.
Gentle and firm, hushing him instantly.
"Silence is golden, honey." Her voice came out low and seductive, each word landing with deliberate weight. "If you really want your wife to do all the talking, then just relax and enjoy the show." Her eyes burned into his. "Keep that mouth shut. I'm gonna wring you dry."
She kept grinding.
Long, fluid waves the movements of someone who knew exactly what she was doing and had no interest in pretending otherwise. His cock disappeared beneath her, drenched in her warmth, every slide pulling more of her honey-sweet liquids across his length. Her weight shifted with each roll, her breasts swaying above him, her dark skin catching the candlelight in long streaks down her stomach.
All deliberate. Every motion designed to pull him under.
And it was working.
A flush of heat crawled up Arthur's neck, deep and red — the same heat she'd dragged out of him during the tit fuck, the same instinct clawing at the back of his skull telling him to flip her over, pin her down, and breed her until she couldn't walk.
But he wasn't in control.
Vespa was.
She reached down, wrapped her hand around his length, and positioned him beneath her — standing tall, perfectly aligned. She looked down at it. Then up at him.
Her tail pulled away from his lips.
"Say please."
"No."
Her smile widened.
"Good answer."
She lowered herself.
"Ah—"
The moan came out raw as his full length pushed into her, her walls clamping down around him, her hips not stopping until they were flush against his. She held there for a beat, breathing hard, adjusting.
Then she started to move.
Rocking her hips back and forth, Vespa used his boy like a toy grinding and riding with the shameless. Her fat ass smacked against him with every downstroke, the sound filling the room, as her dark chocolate skin rippling from each impact as she drove herself down again and again.
"Mn— yes—"
Her hands pressed into his chest, nails digging in leaving marks all while, her breasts bounced with every rock her hips.
Her hips rolled in long devastating waves with each one pulling him deeper inside her. Her inner wall tightening around his length with every decent making him feel like he was lock in a vice grip.
The wet sound of skin meeting skin filled the room alongside the steady creak of the bed beneath them, both sounds blending into a rhythm that neither of them was consciously keeping but both of their bodies had agreed on.
'She's not even going fast yet it's so overwhelming.'
That was the worst part. She wasn't rushing, wasn't trying to make him cum as fast as possible instead she was using every single motion to prove a point, each roll of her hips landing with a precision that sent shudders down Arthur's spine and reminded him that the woman on top of him had been built for exactly this.
It was eating at him from the inside out, the way she handled him, making use of his body with the confidence of a stubborn wife who'd already decided how the night was going to end and saw no reason to hurry getting there.
And just when he got used to her pace, she changed it.
Vespa leaned back and planted her hands behind her on his legs, arching her back in one fluid motion that shifted the angle entirely, and the moment it did Arthur felt himself hitting somewhere deeper, her insides gripping hard around him as his toes curled against the sheets and every muscle in his core tightened to hold back what was building.
"Mn—" Her eyes half-closed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "There it is."
She locked onto that angle and stayed there, grinding down into him with short, focused rolls that hammered deep, his full length stirring up her insides while her breasts swayed heavy with every motion, the candlelight painting long streaks of gold across her body that hugged every curve from her stomach to her collarbone to the heavy underside of her chest.
Her tail, not to be left out, coiled around his thigh and squeezed possessively, claiming as if making sure he couldn't leave even if he wanted to.
'Fuck.'
The heat was growing inside him, building at the base of his spine in a way that his body answered before his mind could, his hips jerking upward on instinct to meet her next descent. Arthur's jaw clenched as his hands, now free, reached for her hips and dug in hard, fingers pressing into the soft give of her dark skin as his whole body tensed beneath her.
Vespa felt it immediately, and her pace increased.
"Give it to me, honey." Her voice came out breathless but commanding, each word punctuated by the heavy slap of her hips against his as she drove herself down harder, her walls clenching tight around him with every descent.
"Give me everything you've got, fill up my insides and make me pregnant." Her amber eyes locked onto his, burning with something raw and primal beneath the wife act, something that had nothing to do with performance and everything to do with what her body was demanding of his. "Make your beautiful wife pregnant, let me give birth to your children."
The words hit him harder than any technique she'd used all night.
'She's playing dirty.'
His grip on her hips tightened until his knuckles went white, fingers pressing deep enough to leave marks, but she didn't flinch if anything her smile sharpened, because she knew exactly what those words did to a man standing on the edge and she had no intention of letting him step back from it.
Her hips came down harder now, faster, abandoning the slow precision that had been torturing him for something desperate and hungry, the bed groaning beneath them as the headboard knocked against the wall in a rhythm that matched her pace.
Her breasts bounced wild with every impact, her dark chocolate skin rippling each time their bodies connected, the sweet honey scent rolling off her in waves thick enough to drown in.
"Cum inside me, hubby—" Her voice cracked at the edges, the composure finally slipping as her own pleasure started to catch up to the performance she'd been running all night. "Fill me up — breed me — make me yours—"
'This woman—'
He couldn't hold it.
The orgasm hit him like a wall crashing through every barrier he'd built over the course of the night, his hips bucking upward as his grip on her waist yanked her down and buried himself to the hilt.
The release tore through him in pulses, each one deeper than the last, flooding into her with a heat that blurred his vision at the edges and emptied his mind of everything except the feeling of her wrapped around him, pulling it all out of him with walls that wouldn't stop trembling.
"Ah—"
The groan ripped out of him raw and unfiltered, nothing of the cold composure left in it at all.
Vespa's back arched hard at the feeling of it, his warmth spreading through her and filling her up, and the sensation pushed her over the edge with him her walls clamping down around his length as a moan tore out of her that carried no performance, no act, no wife routine, just her, completely undone on top of him while her thighs shook and her nails carved lines into his chest.
"Oh— honey—"
Her body shuddered through it, riding the climax out while her insides milked every last drop from him, her tail snapping rigid behind her, her horns catching the candlelight as her head fell back and for a few long seconds neither of them moved just two bodies locked together, trembling through the aftershock of something that had caught them both off guard.
When it passed, Vespa collapsed forward onto his chest, her breathing coming in ragged waves against his neck, her horns brushing his jaw, her tail going limp across his leg like a flag of surrender.