Stalking in the Alley - 10
"Ngh..."
Clamp.
The glans had barely slipped inside—just the tip, burning hot—and the moment it moved, even that slightest motion was denied, my ass seized in a crushing grip.
And with that, whether from some psychological cause or a physical one, I found myself unable to move my body so much as an inch.
Slurp, slurp.
The moment I stopped moving, the mouth and tongue working over my chest resumed. Slowly, delicately, the tongue moved as if praising me for behaving—as if to say that this, right now, was the most beautiful state of all.
'Ngh... ngh...'
The hand stroking its cock slid upward, brushed briefly against my pussy, then sank back down. A slow rise, a light tap, and down again—as if to remind me that it was touching itself, and that its purpose was to bury itself inside me to the hilt.
I might as well have been premium ice cream.
It savored the feel of my chest and my pussy as though every single bite were precious. And whenever I flinched and trembled at even a little of it, the hand on my ass would clamp down hard, scolding me not to interrupt its meal.
If anyone had seen me like this—overwhelmed, not a single movement permitted, taking it without protest—they wouldn't have felt any difference from an animal caught in a trap, one that had struggled too long and lost even the strength to writhe.
'Information... it's for information.'
But I was different from trapped prey. Prey thrashes desperately the instant it senses the hunter nearby, because the moment the hunter arrives, everything ends. I, on the other hand, was half enjoying this—and so I offered no resistance at all.
Deceiving myself that it was all for information, I was savoring the stalker's hands, its mouth, its sticky obsession, without even realizing it.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
'Ah...'
The hand sped up. Suddenly I understood why women in every other medium begged men to stop right before they came inside. Every sensation sharpened to a razor's edge, as if all my senses had been turned up at once—the mouth suddenly sucking in urgent pulls, the palm clamped tight and motionless against me, the quickening hand. And even the glans twitching inside me, again and again, as if hinting at what was coming. I felt all of it, vividly.
"W-wait, just—wait a second."
I knew it was a plea that wouldn't work at all. And yet the sheer abruptness of the shift, and the stalker's body broadcasting exactly what it was about to pour into me, wrung the words out of me before I could stop them. I knew it was the kind of thing that only stoked the fire—but it was all so fast, so sudden, so violent, that I said it without thinking.
Shloop.
The answer to my plea was a finger sliding into my ass. The hand that had been gripping my cheek drove a finger in with one smooth thrust, as if it meant to drain even the strength I needed to stay standing. Not one joint at a time, slowly, like before—all three at once.
"...!"
Squelch, squelch, squelch.
"We... we agreed... just the glans... ngh."
The sensation made my legs buckle, dropping my posture a little lower—and as the cock slipped in slightly deeper, I scrambled to tense up again in alarm, but the finger stirring my ass permitted absolutely no such thing. I clutched at the stalker's shoulder, my only support, and shook.
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.
And as if to tell me without a single word that it was even more worked up now, the hand stroking its cock moved faster still. Every time it pumped and slapped against my pussy, it seemed to be speaking.
The reason its stroke had gotten shorter was entirely my fault. It wasn't the one who broke the promise of glans-only. It was me.
"Ah..."
And then, right on the edge of the stalker's climax, I felt its senses go haywire. I felt the finger in my ass sinking in with excruciating slowness. The mouth on my chest had fallen wide open, still sucking. And from the cock that had slipped deeper when my strength failed, I felt something traveling down toward the tip—semen, on the move.
Spurt.
At first it was nothing more than a warmth in my belly. The closest thing I could compare it to was the feeling of hot water sliding down your throat when you drink it with the chills—a strangely pleasant sensation, warming me from within, vivid and bright down below.
Spurt. Spurt.
But when the cock twitched and I felt the second wave pour in, an enormous volume flooded me as if that first release had been a mere joke, and I shook all over at a sensation I had never once felt in my life.
"No..."
My legs gave out, just a little. I spread them and barely held myself up on the word alone—but as if it were already too late, the cock was a third of the way inside.
"Ah... aaaaah...!"
I could feel the finger working my ass, and the stalker's unblinking, predatory gaze. The cock—now positioned to spill even closer to my womb—poured out its semen in joyful, gushing waves. My calves, my thighs, my ass—my entire lower body was trembling, fighting not to collapse. But as if that weren't satisfaction enough, the finger in my back hole pressed down firmly, firmly, ordering me lower.
"Please, stop!"
I hadn't seen this coming. It was only the glans, sitting inside my pussy—I never dreamed it would feel so good my legs would give out. Foolish as it sounds, I'd genuinely believed it would do nothing more than deposit its lubricant.
But as if the situation had changed since then, the stalker went on stirring my ass.
"Aaaaaaah!"
The moment it jabbed the spot inside me—the one I'd told it was my weak point—my knees began to sink all on their own, and I felt the cock sliding deeper. It was only a single finger. And yet that one finger pressed down on me like a mountain.
"The promise! You promised it was just the glans!"
The instant I understood that I could never win, I found myself shouting—begging it to keep a promise that was never going to be kept. Please, have mercy. Not this. Anything but this.
(You're the one who broke it.)
The stalker answered with cold logic in a strangely giddy voice. It hadn't broken any promise. It had put in exactly the glans, no more—and I was the one who sank down on it myself.
(Lower.)
Press. Press. Press.
As if it shared its owner's thoughts, the stalker's finger kept jabbing at my weak point. Down, down, down. Poke the spot, wrench out, drive back in and poke it again. It was nothing but motion—and yet I could have sworn I kept hearing a voice in my ear, whispering: lower.
The stalker went on stirring me, insistent, urgent—
"Ah."
—and unable to take any more, my spread legs gave way with a slap. I sank to my knees without meaning to, and because I had already seen exactly what would follow, a hollow little sound escaped me before I could help it.
"Aaaaaaah!"
Pain. Heat. Shock. All three hit me at once.
(It's all the way in.)
The stalker went still, savoring the moment. And then, making it clear that pulling out was not on the table, it locked its grip around my waist.
(Congratulations on losing your virginity.)
"Ugh..."
With those words, the whole situation snapped into focus. I had accepted the stalker's request and taken the cock in to the glans. Then, unable to withstand the pleasure, my legs had folded—and my pussy had swallowed it whole.
(How is it? Does it hurt?)
"Nngh..."
Asked so innocently, I felt the sensation all over again. Even after all that foreplay, all those orgasms, the stalker's cock hurt beyond belief. My pussy was spread open to its absolute limit, and the thing—thirty centimeters long, nearly as thick as my forearm—was buried in me to the root.
"It hurts... it hurts so much."
A size that surpassed human limits. I hadn't understood it when I'd only seen it, felt it rub against me from the outside—but with it inside me, I finally grasped just how absurd it was. This was not a cock made to make a woman feel good. It was a cock made to break her.
"Ngh... ah..."
Impaled, I could do nothing at all. Standing was impossible—my legs had gone completely slack. And twisting my hips to shift even slightly was unthinkable, the sensation too raw, too painful. All I could do was lie there and accept the cock inside me until my body learned to take it.
(What a masterpiece of a pussy.)
"W-wait, just..."
Having praised my pussy, the stalker went back to stirring the weak point in my ass—as if it wanted me loosened up fast, ready to be moved through without a problem the moment I adapted.
"Hngh... kgh... ngh..."
(Adapt quickly. That's the only way I can coat every corner of this pussy with lubricant.)
There I was, flinching my hips, enduring pleasure and pain alike under that relentless stirring, when the unbelievable words reached me—about applying more lubricant.
"What...?"
(You dropped your pussy down before I could apply enough lubricant. So shouldn't I move myself, and spread it around properly?)
For a moment I doubted my own ears. Because I had moved, it hadn't been able to apply enough lubricant—and so it would simply move itself, and coat me inside and out. An absurd declaration, a coercion bordering on violence. I tried to protest immediately, to argue—
Thrust.
—and as if it had no intention of hearing me out, the moving cock stole my voice entirely.
"Aagh... ah..."
When the stalker first began to move, it still hurt. A cock that size was not something you adapted to by gritting your teeth for a moment.
"Ugh... aaah... stop...!"
But then the stalker took my clitoris under its fingernail and rolled it. My back arched off the ground and I came in an instant—and the pain of the cock churning my freshly sensitized pussy melted away, pleasure flooding in to fill the space it left behind.
"Heah?!"
I came, just like that. I hadn't known a sensation like that existed—that there was a spot like that waiting on my clitoris.
(The grip just got better, didn't it? You came.)
Feeling me finish once, the stalker began to move in earnest.
Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.
I felt its groin press deep against my ass, then draw away. A smack as it bottomed out, a wet kiss from my pussy as it pulled back, then another heavier smack and the ripple of my own flesh. Every deep thrust hurt—and yet my body welcomed it, gladly, as if begging it to come in faster.
(Mine... won't... never letting go.)
With every deep plunge, the stalker mumbled against me. I couldn't make out the words—but one phrase came through crystal clear: never letting go. My overheated pussy clenched down around the cock, tight, tighter, while my womb loosened just slightly, as if beckoning it closer.
"Nngh... you..."
I broke the promise, but this isn't me forcing you—this is just sex, lubricant or no lubricant. If you come inside me like this, it counts. It's going on the tally. A dozen things tried to force their way out of my mouth—
Squelch, squelch, squelch.
"Nyah..!"
—and the snap of its hips cut me off, choking the words before they could form.
"Kgh... nngh..."
Once I'd come, I could feel it with total clarity: something enormous sliding in and out of my lower belly. So hot, so huge, that I could practically guess its shape from the distinct outline pressing against me from within. Every time that massive shape spread me open and moved, a moan clawed at my throat, and all I could do was spread my legs and squeeze down with my pussy, tight, tighter, and endure.
"How long is this going to..."
It felt like ten minutes, maybe more. Ten minutes of lying with my legs spread, cradling the stalker's head against my chest—the only thing left to hold on to—trembling as the cock plunged deep into my pussy and ripped back out in an instant.
"How long are you going to keep goinggg..."
In, deep. Out. There was no technique to it, no finesse—sheer size overwhelmed everything. My disobedient pussy squeezed down on its own initiative, demanding to know why there was still no semen, while my womb hung wide open, throbbing and tormenting me like a girlfriend throwing a tantrum over a boyfriend who was late.
(Here it comes...!)
Spuuurt!
"Aaahn...♡"
The semen flooded in without warning. I felt its balls press flush against me, trembling through their release. My pussy—which had been clenching, clenching, clenching—finally seemed to remember its purpose, drawing the semen up from the base of the cock in one long, deep pull. And my womb, flung wide open at last as if it had finally been reunited with its boyfriend, gathered the semen into itself.