Archive of Our Own ^beta

The gym smelled faintly of rubber mats and sweat. Jirou had been killing time, earbuds half in, pretending to scroll through her playlist while she lingered in the corner. She wasn’t even supposed to be here anymore; her training session had ended twenty minutes ago, but when she’d heard Midoriya was staying late to “work on endurance,” her curiosity got the better of her.

At first, it was just him in a T-Shirt and sweats, grunting softly as he did squats. Harmless. Typical Midoriya. His hair a mess, cheeks flushed, mumbling little notes to himself between reps. But then he stopped, wiped his face, and peeled the shirt over his head. The world got a little slower. Broad shoulders she hadn’t expected, that big functional muscle he usually hid under uniforms, and a nervous glance around like he was afraid someone might watch him.
She almost didn’t notice the way his sweats hung heavy in the front until he stretched. The fabric tented in an obscene outline, weighty enough that it pulled the waistband low on his hips. And then he adjusted himself, quick and awkward, and she swore she saw the thick shape of him shift under the cotton. Her mouth went dry.
He caught her looking. Not full-on, just the barest flicker of his eyes before his gaze snapped to the floor. His ears went red. Midoriya was blushing while half a python slept in his pants.
Jirou’s brain was already rewiring, every polite stammer, every self-conscious laugh, every time he’d flinched when Bakugo barked at him. She’d seen that same twitch in his shoulders just now when she got caught staring. It hit her that he liked it. Oh, he really liked it.

She slid her earbuds fully out, crossing the mat toward him. “Endurance training, huh?” Her tone was lazy, teasing. “Looks like you’re already carrying extra weight.”
Midoriya choked on his own breath, fumbling the towel in his hands. “I- Uh- That’s not-”
“Relax,” she cut in, smirking, circling him just enough for her shoulder to brush his arm. She let her eyes flick down, slow and obvious. “Not gonna lie, though… I wasn’t expecting that.”
His hands went straight to his hips like he might shield himself, but the motion only dragged the waistband lower, flashing the hint of dark fabric beneath. His chest rose and fell faster, Adam’s apple bobbing.
Jirou leaned in close, voice low enough to make the air between them feel hot. “You know… Some guys would kill for me to make fun of them a little.” Her smirk widened when she saw him shiver. “You’re not one of those guys… Are you?”
Silence, except for the squeak of his sneakers on the mat when he shifted his weight. She saw it in the way his pupils dilated, the clench of his jaw. He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t.
“Thought so,” she murmured, stepping past him toward the water cooler, letting her earjacks swing just close enough to graze his arm.

The locker room was quiet except for the hiss of the showers in the far corner. Jirou had been watching him all week, every little tell, every nervous fidget when someone got too close, the way his thighs tensed when she so much as glanced at his lap. By the time she finally made her move, she already knew exactly where to press.
He’d just finished training, hair damp with sweat, still breathing heavy when he turned the corner and froze. She was leaning against the wall by his locker, arms crossed, smirk sharp enough to cut.
“Hey, Bull,” she drawled, eyes dropping immediately to that familiar swell in his shorts. “Guess what I’ve been thinking about all week?”
His face went crimson. “J-Jirou, I-”

“Don’t care,” she cut him off, stepping into his space so fast his back hit the lockers with a dull metallic thud. “Been watching you twitch like a little perv every time I so much as look at you. You’ve been getting hard for me in class, haven’t you?”
He made some garbled protest, but his hands betrayed him, hovering at his waistband like he wanted to hide and grab himself at the same time.
She tilted her head, lips quirking. “That’s a yes. God, you’re pathetic.”
His breath hitched hard, and she knew she’d hit the nerve. Her palm landed flat against his chest, shoving him back harder against the lockers, nails dragging lightly down over the lines of muscle until she reached the hem of his shorts.
“You like it when I call you pathetic, don’t you? Bet you’ve been jerking that monster in your dorm thinking about me telling you what a desperate, useless mess you are.”
His knees almost buckled. She could feel him throbbing through the fabric, huge and hot and utterly impossible to ignore. She hooked a finger in his waistband and tugged, slow enough to make his eyes flutter.
“Holy shit,” she murmured when the thing finally sprang free, heavy enough to slap against his stomach. “No wonder you walk like you’re hiding contraband.” She wrapped her hand around him, only managing to get partway, squeezing hard enough to make his hips jerk.

“Look at you, biggest cock in the school, and you’re standing here letting a girl half your size handle you like a toy. What’s wrong with you?”
“I… I l-like it,” he panted, voice breaking.
“Oh, I know you do.” She gave him a sharp, deliberate stroke, watching him bite down on a whimper. “You’re gonna make me come on this, aren’t you? Gonna let me use you until I’m done, then maybe I’ll let you spill all over yourself like the needy freak you are.”
His nod was frantic, desperate. She shoved him down onto the bench, straddling him before he could even think about touching her back.
“You keep your hands on the bench, Bull,” she ordered, grinding down on him through the thin barrier of her shorts just to watch his jaw clench. “This is mine now.”
Her voice dropped into a taunting whisper as she leaned forward, lips brushing his ear. “And you’re going to thank me for letting you give it to me.”

Her knees pressed into the bench so he couldn’t shift away even if he wanted to. His cock was pressed hard against the front of her shorts, twitching with every ragged breath he took. She leaned back just enough to hook her thumbs under her waistband, eyes locked on his face as she dragged them down slow.
“You don’t get to touch,” she said flatly when his hands twitched like they might rise. “You keep them there, or I’ll walk out and leave you leaking like a sad little virgin.”
His knuckles went white gripping the edge of the bench. She peeled her shorts and panties off in one smooth motion, stepping out of them so her bare thighs bracketed his lap. The air was warm and heavy, thick with his panting and the quiet slap of her hand as she gripped the base of him.
“God, you’re ridiculous,” she muttered, stroking lazily, lifting his length until it bobbed upright. “It’s like I’m holding a third fucking arm.” She stepped back and kneeled down, dragging the flat of her tongue from the base to the swollen tip, watching his stomach tighten.

He groaned, but she didn’t look up. Her focus was on the weight in her hand, the way her spit glistened as she licked slow, lazy stripes up and down his shaft. Then she shifted, letting his cock rest across her face so she could wrap her lips around one heavy ball, sucking until he gasped.
“Mmm,” she hummed around him, pulling back with a wet pop. “These could cover my whole face if I let ‘em. All this for me, huh? My own personal stress toy.” She squeezed his balls just enough to make him shiver, dragging her tongue over them again before moving back to the head.
Every time he made a sound, she ignored it. This wasn’t for him. She was savoring the salt and heat, the weight of him in her mouth, the way her own thighs rubbed together when she pushed him deep enough to feel him against the back of her throat. She pulled off with a long, messy string of spit connecting her lips to his tip, smiling wickedly as she stroked him with one hand and palmed herself with the other.
“You feel that?” she asked, grinding against his thigh just enough for him to feel how wet she was. “That’s me getting off on your cock without even letting you fuck me. You’re just…furniture right now.”
His eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide, and it made her smirk harder. She leaned down again, sucking one ball deep into her mouth while her free hand jerked his shaft at a cruel, steady pace. Spit ran down over her knuckles, pooling at the base before dripping onto the bench.

“You’re gonna sit there and take it until I’m done,” she said, licking back up to the head and swirling her tongue around the tip like she was tasting candy. “And if you’re lucky, I might let you cum… all over yourself like the messy little toy you are.”
Jirou had him trembling just from the slow, deliberate flicks of her tongue. She held his cock steady in one hand, tongue barely grazing the crown before she pushed it under his foreskin, swirling lazily like she was tasting some wine.
“You’re already coming undone, while I barely even try,” she murmured, her tone flat, almost bored. “Pathetic. You should feel lucky I’m even putting my mouth on you, Bull.”
“I-” he started, but she interrupted him.
“Shh. No one asked you to talk.” She went right back to dragging her tongue under the ridge, slow and casual, eyes half-lidded like she was inspecting him more than pleasuring him. His thighs twitched, breath shaky, but she gave him nothing more than that lazy pace.

Then she reached into her discarded shorts and pulled out a small silver packet. She ripped it open with a smirk, squeezing the clear gel straight onto his shaft until it glistened from base to tip. “You think I’m doing this for you?” she scoffed, spreading it evenly with long, slow strokes. “No, Bull. This is for me. I’m not about to tear myself up on your stupidly oversized dick.”
With her other hand, she slid two fingers down between her thighs, coating them with lube before pushing them inside herself without hesitation. She closed her eyes for a beat, letting her head tilt back slightly as she worked the slick into her walls, curling her fingers just right.

When she pulled them out, she was already moving to straddle him again, knees planted wide, his cock standing up between them like an obscene trophy. “Hands on the bench. Don’t even think about moving them,” she warned, lining herself up with the tip.
The first push made her hiss from that intoxicating stretch as that fat crown parted her. “Fuck… you’re even worse than I thought,” she breathed, more to herself than to him, sinking down slow, her hips rolling to ease him in inch by inch.
Her nails dug into his shoulders for balance, but her gaze stayed on her own body taking him, watching the way her folds stretched wide around his girth. “Look at that… not even halfway in and I’m already stuffed,” she taunted, rocking her hips in shallow little bounces that made her clench around him.

Every sound he made, every choked groan, every sharp inhale- 
She ignored, focusing entirely on the pace and angle that made her toes curl. She used him like a toy, grinding down to chase the heat coiling low in her stomach, pausing only to shift her hips and slide down another inch of him.
“You’re just a really big dildo with a heartbeat right now, Bull,” she said, voice thick with satisfaction. “And I’m gonna ride you until I get exactly what I want.”
Jirou planted her feet on the bench for better leverage, bracing her hands on his chest as she pushed herself further down his length. Every slow inch forced a new hiss from between her teeth, her hips grinding in tight circles to help her stretch around him.
“Shit… You’re fucking obscene,” she muttered, eyes locked on where his cock was disappearing into her. “No one should be this thick and still be walking around like some shy little nerd.”
Midoriya’s head tipped back against the lockers, mouth open, breathing ragged, but his hands stayed obediently on the bench just like she’d ordered. His thighs were trembling under her, every muscle tense as she sank lower.
Jirou wasn’t stopping until she had every last bit of him. She bit her lip, rocking down slow, feeling that impossible stretch deep inside. “You think I’m gonna quit halfway?” she panted, glaring at him like the answer was obvious. “No, Bull. I’m taking all of it. Every… Fucking… Inch.”
With one sharp push of her hips, she forced herself the rest of the way down until her ass was flush against his thighs. The impact made a wet, obscene slap echo off the tile. Her eyes widened, and then she laughed. Breathless, shocked, turned on beyond reason.

“Holy fuck…” She lifted her shirt just enough to look down at herself, and there it was: A thick, obvious bulge pressing up from her lower belly, shifting when she clenched around him. “Oh my god, you’re- You’re right there,” she groaned, palm flattening over the shape. “That’s your cock inside me. Fuck, that’s hot.”
She started rolling her hips, feeling the drag of him against her walls and that bulge moving under her hand with every grind. “You feel that, Bull? You’re so deep you’re making me look pregnant. You’re ruining me from the inside and I’m not even letting you move.”

He let out a desperate, strangled noise, but she just smirked, keeping her pace slow and deliberate, savoring the way her own body shuddered around him. “Don’t you dare cum yet. I’m not done playing with my new toy.”
Jirou yanked her shirt over her head without breaking rhythm, tossing it aside so nothing blocked her view of what she wanted to see, that perfect, obscene bulge in her lower stomach. Her hands slid down over her abs, fingertips tracing the outline, pressing just hard enough to feel the way he shifted inside her when she moved.

“Fuck… You’re stretching me like no one else ever could,” she breathed, not out of praise, but raw greed. She started grinding faster, rolling her hips in tight circles before bouncing in slow, heavy drops that made her tits sway and the wet slap of their bodies echo in the room. Every rise and fall made that bulge swell under her palm.
Midoriya’s eyes were locked on her, pupils huge, lips parted in a dazed, desperate stare. She didn’t miss the twitch of his hands, just the faintest instinct to reach for her.
The slap landed before he could even register he’d moved. A sharp, stinging crack across his cheek that made his head whip to the side. His gasp was more of a moan and her grin sharpened.
“That’s for forgetting your place,” she said, voice low and cruel, grabbing his jaw in her fingers and yanking his head back toward her. She leaned in until her lips hovered just over his, and then spat directly into his open mouth. The wet splatter hit his tongue, and she didn’t give him time to think before she pressed her thumb under his chin, forcing him to swallow.

The sound he made was a wrecked, choked groan, his hips jerking up involuntarily under her. She felt the surge of him inside her, that telltale twitch that said he was right on the edge, and her smirk widened.
“Oh, you almost blew just from that? Pathetic, Bull,” she taunted, squeezing around him and grinding down even harder, her palm still stroking over the visible shape of him inside her. “You’re my big, dumb, oversized fucktoy, and you’re gonna sit there and take it until I’m done.”

Jirou kept one hand pressed against that obscene bulge, feeling the head of his cock push up under her skin every time she dropped down on him. Her pace was cruel now, slow enough to make him twitch and clench, but with every movement designed to wring the best friction out of his size for her own pleasure.
His breathing was ragged, every muscle in his arms flexing as he gripped the bench like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. She could feel the tension rolling through him, the way his thighs trembled, the way his abs tightened every time she bottomed out.

“You’re holding it back, huh?” she purred, grinding hard in a slow circle before lifting up just enough to slam back down, the wet smack echoing in the locker room. “Good. You don’t cum until I tell you.”
She leaned forward, her tits brushing his chest as she spoke against his ear. “You’re so deep you’re making me see stars. You think I care if you get off? I’m fucking myself on you like you’re nothing but a giant, warm toy.”
His eyes fluttered, his mouth falling open in a breathless moan that made her laugh darkly. “That’s right. Moan for me. Let me hear how it feels knowing I’m only using you for my own pussy.”
Her hips picked up speed, bouncing now, each drop making that bulge jump under her palm. The slick sound of her cunt taking him filled the space, louder each time her ass smacked against his thighs. Her free hand dug into his hair, holding him in place so he had to look at her working herself toward her own release.
“You’re so fucking big I can feel you rearranging me,” she hissed, riding faster, chasing the tight knot building in her belly. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard I won’t be able to stand up after. And you’re just gonna sit there and take it like a good little toy.”

Her thighs started to shake, her grip on his hair tightening as her breathing turned sharp and fast. She ground down one last time, pushing him as deep as he could go, that bulge pressing hard against her palm and her whole body clenched around him as the orgasm tore through her.
She stayed there, hips grinding slow through the aftershocks, milking herself on his cock while his eyes were glassy with desperation, his chest heaving. She smirked, still stroking the shape of him inside her belly.
“Not yet, Bull,” she murmured, almost sweetly. “You don’t get to cum until I’m ready to watch you make a mess.”

She stayed planted on his lap, fully seated, his cock buried to the base inside her, that thick stretch still pulsing against her walls. She reached over to the bench beside them, grabbed her phone, and unlocked it like she had nowhere better to be.
The wet heat of her was unbearable for him, she could feel the way his thighs tensed, the faint twitch of his cock inside her with every tiny breath he took. He was practically vibrating under her, but she just leaned forward against his chest, one arm draped casually over his shoulder as her thumb flicked lazily across the screen.
“You’re moving,” she said flatly without looking up from her feed when his hips shifted a millimeter. “Don’t.”
“I-”
“That wasn’t a question.” She finally glanced up at him, smirk curling. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you stay inside me this long. You should be on your knees thanking me.”
He groaned low in his throat, and she reached back, giving his thigh a sharp slap. “Shut it. I’m reading.”

She scrolled for a solid minute, leaning back slightly to stretch, which only made him sink impossibly deeper, before settling back in. Every now and then, she shifted her hips just enough to make him gasp, then smirked like she’d done it by accident.
“You’re nothing but a seat right now,” she murmured without looking at him. “A big, throbbing, useless seat. Furniture that leaks if it moves too much.”
Another twitch from him. She didn’t even look away from her phone this time, just reached up and patted his cheek like he was a dog trying to get her attention. “Easy, Bull. You don’t want me to get bored enough to kick you out before I’m done with you.”
She leaned forward again, the movement grinding her walls down over him in a way that made his breath stutter. Then she went still, phone in hand, as if he wasn’t even there.
“Don’t even think about cumming in me while I’m scrolling,” she said absently, eyes on the screen. “I’ll know. And you’ll regret it.”
Jirou shifted and turned fully around, her back hitting his chest. Still fully seated on him, his cock pulsing inside her like it belonged there. She tilted the screen toward herself, then, without even looking at him, adjusted the angle so he had a perfect view over her shoulder.

She didn’t say a word. No explanation, no teasing intro. Just scrolled.
The first image slid into view: Mina topless in her bedroom mirror, pink hair a messy halo, tits out and perfect. Swipe, Yaoyorozu sprawled naked across silk sheets, one hand between her thighs. Swipe, a short video of Mina again, this time giggling breathlessly as she bounced on a dildo, camera shaking. Swipe, Tsuyu, of all people, in grainy, dim lighting, her tongue working between her legs with slow, deliberate licks.
She didn’t react to any of it. No commentary, no raised brow, not even a smirk. Just mindless scrolling, as if she were checking the weather. Her hips didn’t move, but her walls stayed snug and warm around him, every slight clench making his breath hitch harder.

Another video appeared, Kaminari’s voice laughing off camera while Jirou herself sat spread on her bed, one hand buried between her thighs. She kept scrolling right past it like it was nothing.
His breathing was getting louder now, shorter, almost shaky, but she still didn’t acknowledge him.
She knew he was watching every frame, the heat rising in him, the way his cock twitched hard when she swiped through a home-filmed blowjob clip from Mina to Shinsou.
Nothing from her but silence.

Another swipe, Momo again, this time rubbing herself slowly while the camera zoomed in on her soaking folds. Another swipe, a fast-paced hand job video of Mina jerking off Denki without mercy.
Jirou let the audio play. Didn’t mute it. Didn’t look at him. Just kept scrolling like this was a normal Instagram feed.
He twitched inside her again, harder, and she finally tilted her head the slightest bit, still not taking her eyes off the phone.
“Better not spill, Bull,” she murmured, bored and cold. “You haven’t earned it.” Then right back to scrolling.

Jirou’s thumb slowed on the screen, pausing mid-scroll when the thumbnail popped up, Ochako on all fours, hair a mess, face flushed and slack with pleasure. She tapped it without hesitation, the video filling the screen.
Bakugou’s voice hit first, rough and vicious even through the tiny phone speaker. Then the visual, him behind her, slamming in hard enough to make her whole body jolt forward with each thrust, Ochako gasping and moaning loud enough to drown him out half the time.

The sound of skin on skin echoed in the little locker room, filthy and raw. Jirou didn’t even pretend to hide the smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. She angled the phone so Izuku had a clear, perfect view, his chin brushing her shoulder as his eyes locked on the screen.
Ochako’s big tits swung with each brutal thrust, her fingers clawing at the sheets, her voice breaking as she cried out Bakugou’s name over and over. Jirou didn’t look at him, but she could feel his reaction, the way his cock throbbed painfully inside her, the almost imperceptible flex of his thighs as his whole body screamed to move.

“Mm. He’s really ruining her, huh?” she murmured, casual, as though they were watching a cooking video. “Bet you could never make her sound like that.”
The wet slap of Bakugou’s hips into Ochako’s pussy grew louder, faster, the video shaking with the force of it. Ochako’s face was flushed deep, mouth open, drool spilling onto the pillow, her moans high and frantic.
Jirou smirked wider, feeling the way Izuku’s breath hitched sharply against her neck. “You’re dying right now, aren’t you, Bull?” she said softly, still keeping her eyes on the video. “Sitting under me. Cock so fucking hard, watching your best friend get split open by your rival.”
She clenched down on him on purpose, in the rhythm of Bakugou´s thrusts in the video. Jirou didn’t have to look to know Izuku’s hands were digging into the bench, his body straining not to buck up into her.
“Hold it,” she ordered, her voice cold and sharp as the clip replayed Ochako’s moans. “Don’t you fucking dare cum. I’m not done watching.”
Jirou didn’t even pause when the next clip rolled. Ochako again, this time on her back, legs pinned up to her shoulders while Iida pounded into her with mechanical precision, his glasses slipping down his nose. The audio was all skin and slick and her breathless little gasps.

Swipe, Ochako bent over a weight bench, Kirishima behind her, grinning like the sun as he fucked her deep and fast, his hands gripping her hips so tight her skin dimpled.
Swipe, Denki’s shaky phone camera catching her straddling him, bouncing messily and fast while he laughed breathlessly under her.

Swipe, Monoma, of all people, with her on top in reverse cowgirl, grinding down on him and his smug voice making Izuku’s shoulders stiffen.
Jirou finally tilted her head toward him, lips brushing the shell of his ear as the next clip started. Ochako back on all fours, moaning, sweat dripping down her spine.
“She’s fucked all of them and more,” Jirou whispered, her voice low and almost gentle against the filth on the screen. “Every single one. Let them put their cocks in her, cum in her, use her however they wanted.”
She clenched around him deliberately, her hand pressing to her own stomach to feel that thick bulge still buried inside her.
“But you?” Her smirk was audible in her tone. “She never let you touch her. Didn’t even let you try. And you know why?”
He swallowed hard, eyes still locked on the screen.

“Because you’re pathetic, Bull,” she murmured, dragging the word out like a knife. “You’re not the guy that fucks girls. You’re the guy they laugh about while they’re riding someone else… Or when they use your cock like a sextoy. You’re the type who gets off, like some pathetic fuck, on being bullied.”

The video’s audio spiked, Ochako screaming Mirio's name and Jirou felt him throb inside her again. She grinned.

“You love it,” she taunted, her voice sharp now. “You get off on being told you’re nothing. On being reminded that girls would fuck everyone else in the class before they would even look at you that way. You’re hard as fuck right now because I’m saying it.”
She shifted her hips just slightly, enough to grind down on him in slow, cruel circles, keeping him trapped deep inside while the video kept playing.
„I wonder if you would let the boys fuck you too... While they insult you of course.“ Izuku's cock twitching in her like he was electrocuted.

Interesting. 

“Pathetic,” she whispered again, almost tender, like it was a pet name. 
Jirou finally locked her phone and tossed it onto the bench beside them, turning around again to face him. She planted both hands on his shoulders as she shifted her weight forward. Her hips rolled slowly, dragging every inch of him through her soaked heat before slamming back down with a wet, obscene smack.“Alright, Bull,” she said, voice low but sharp, “You’ve got five minutes.” She ground down hard, nails digging into his skin. “Five minutes to cum and fill my womb. If you can’t? Then this-” she dropped hard on him again, the bulge in her stomach pressing against her palm “-is a one-time show. You’ll spend the rest of your life jerking off to the memory.”

His breath caught, eyes wide, muscles straining as she picked up the pace, bouncing on him in fast, punishing drops that made the slap of their bodies echo in the locker room.
“But-” her smirk turned wicked as she leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear, “If you do it… If you dump every last drop into me before time’s up… Maybe I’ll make a habit of using this cock whenever I want, and spread the word in that little group chat I just showed you…”
She sat up again, slapped him across the face hard enough to make his head turn, and before he could even catch his breath, she grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at her. She spat in his open mouth, watching him swallow it with a wrecked groan that vibrated against her hand.
“That’s right,” she taunted, riding faster, the wet sounds growing louder with every thrust. “Five minutes, Bull. Make it count. Prove you’re worth keeping around… Or I walk away and leave you leaking like the pathetic fuck you are.”
Her hips slammed down again, her smirk deepening as she felt him twitch dangerously inside her. “Clock’s ticking.”

Jirou kept her pace brutal, the kind of rhythm that made the bench under them creak and the slap of skin echo sharp in the room. Every drop forced him balls-deep, that obscene bulge in her belly shifting under her palm as she used him.
“You’re close already, aren’t you?” she mocked between breaths, tits bouncing with the motion. “Pathetic. Can’t even last five minutes when I’m actually letting you fuck me.” She clenched down hard around him mid-thrust, then ground slowly for just a second before picking the pace back up, making him groan like he was breaking apart.
His hands twitched again, desperate to grab her, but she slammed another open-handed slap across his cheek before he could move further. “Hands stay put,” she snapped. “You don’t get to touch the one person willing to let this monster inside them unless I say so.”

Her hips bounced faster, wetter, harder, each movement designed to milk him. “You gonna fill me, Bull? Gonna pump me so full that I´m gonna look pregnant?”
The way his jaw clenched, the heat in his eyes, the twitch inside her, she knew he was right there. She leaned down, biting his ear just hard enough to make him jolt. “Do it,” she growled. “Dump every drop into my womb like the fucking breeding toy you are.”

She rode him through it, feeling him throb and spill inside her, hot and deep, her own walls clamping down greedily to take every bit of it. His moans turned ragged, broken, but she didn’t slow until she felt the last pulse of his cock. 
Only then did she stop, still seated on him, smirking down at his flushed, wrecked face. “Guess you’ve earned yourself another round someday,” she said, grinding once for emphasis. Feeling her belly stretched further, with the sheer amount of cum that was pumped into her. Filling her. 

“But only when I’m bored enough to use you again.”