Evil MC's NTR Harem

The orgasm didn't stop—it stretched on, wave after wave, each one more intense than the last.

Her hips began to move faster, pounding down, grinding up, following the natural rhythm of her body rather than thought.

She could feel herself stretching, filling, and adjusting to his sheer size, the once-painful intrusion now matched with unimaginable ecstasy.

Her chest heaved, her moans echoing through the room, her back arching in perfect, chaotic rhythm.

Every movement pushed her closer to the edge again and again, each wave of pleasure hitting harder, more intense than the one before.

Laura had lost herself completely. She was a woman transformed by the overwhelming fullness, the raw lust, the electrifying sensation of finally taking Ross inside her completely.

Pain and pleasure merged into one, and in that union, she found herself soaring higher than ever before.

Her hands clutched him tightly, as if holding onto him could somehow keep her tethered to the world, while her body continued its wild, unthinking dance over him.

She was riding the ninth heaven of pleasure now, drowning in the intensity of her first full penetration orgasm, and there was no going back.

"Hahhhh…"

"Hahhhh…"

"Hahhhh…"

Laura lay panting weakly, her entire body still trembling from the intensity of her orgasm.

Every nerve in her body felt alive, buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure, and yet exhaustion pulled at her like a heavy tide.

She hadn't moved from the position she had fallen into, Ross still partially beneath her, his cock buried deep inside her pussy.

Despite the lingering fullness and sensitivity, she didn't care—sleep had claimed her completely.

***

Hours passed in a hazy dreamlike blur.

When she stirred, it was the gentle tug of Ross that brought her fully awake.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and the first thing she saw was his face.

Calm. Serene. Unaware, at least outwardly, of the intensity of what had transpired.

The memories hit her all at once—every moan, every shiver, every inch she had greedily taken from him.

Her chest tightened, and heat rose fiercely to her cheeks. Instinctively, she pressed a hand over her mouth, unable to keep herself from expressing the shame that coursed through her so suddenly.

Her body was still achingly sensitive, every touch of fabric—or in this case, lack of it—making her shiver.

Her pussy clenched reflexively around him, still soaking and needy, but she tried to ignore it, to focus on anything other than the memory of her own actions.

She wanted to move, to pull away, to escape the lingering intimacy, but her limbs felt like lead.

Her skin was still flushed from her exertion, her breath shallow and uneven, and every small motion sent waves of remembered pleasure rippling through her.

She felt vulnerable, exposed, and yet part of her couldn't deny the ache that still lingered between her thighs.

For a long moment, she just lay there, frozen, caught between the overwhelming aftereffects of their night together and the sharp sting of guilt.

Her mind raced—How could I do this? What will he think if he wakes fully?

Am I… ruined?—while her body, unbidden, betrayed her, remembering every sensation as vividly as it had happened.

Ross remained still, either unaware or simply patient, letting her grapple with her own thoughts and emotions.

Laura's heart pounded, a mix of fear, embarrassment, and a lingering hunger that she couldn't quite shake.

She bit her lip, almost wishing she could rewind time, almost wishing she could erase her own wantonness—but part of her was already craving more, trembling in anticipation of what might come next.

Finally, she took a shallow, trembling breath and shifted slightly, trying to disentangle herself without waking him too abruptly.

Her pussy protested with every move, sending small, involuntary shivers through her body.

The mixture of shame and unspent lust left her dizzy, caught in a strange liminal space between fear and desire.

And as she looked down at Ross again, calm and still beneath her, a small, guilty thrill ran through her—a reminder that despite everything, her body had wanted this, had begged for it, and had not been able to resist.

Laura's mind was a storm of conflicting emotions—shame, desire, fear, and an undeniable heat radiating from between her legs.

She wanted to speak, to pull away, to regain control—but Ross had already taken the initiative.

"I'm sorry, Laura," he said softly, his voice calm yet edged with authority. "I don't know how or why this happened… sometimes I do things I shouldn't when I'm drunk. But don't worry. I'll take full responsibility for this."

The words stole her breath away.

Her chest tightened, and for a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't even respond.

She wanted to confess everything—her own actions, her own surrender—but her body had a mind of its own.

Her pussy clenched instinctively around him, hot and slick, every nerve ending alive with the awareness of his cock still buried deep inside her.

She felt it twitch as if alive, responding to her own movements.

Her lips parted to speak, but the words caught in her throat, replaced by shivers of pleasure that raced through her body.

Tentatively, she raised her hips, testing the sensation, and then—against all reason—pressed back down, letting the friction, the fullness, the overwhelming heat wash over her.

She couldn't stop herself.

Every motion sent waves of electricity through her, making her moan softly, helplessly.

"That feels nice, Laura," Ross murmured, his voice low, dark, and throaty. "You should stop now… if not, I can't promise I'll stop either."

The warning only made her shiver more, her body trembling as heat pooled in her core.

She lifted her hips again, letting them fall back down in slow, deliberate motions, lost entirely in the delicious pressure of him.

The sensation was addictive, unbearable, and she found herself moving faster, more eagerly, against him.

Ross didn't wait this time.

"Pak!" With a sudden, powerful thrust, he drove his hips upward, meeting hers in perfect, punishing rhythm.