Hospital Debauchery-Chapter 202: Bride’s Mother III

Devon’s stared at every inch of the woman he had just demolished.

Marianne lay sprawled on her back in the wreckage of the bridal bed, thighs splayed so wide the tendons in her hips trembled with exhaustion, pussy swollen and glistening, lips puffy and dark, cum still oozing in thick, pearly ropes from her stretched hole.

It slid down the crease of her ass in slow, filthy rivulets, pooling beneath her on the ruined silk sheets until the fabric was cold and wet against her overheated skin.

Her breasts rose and fell in frantic, uneven jerks, nipples bitten dark and shining with spit and dried tears, skin flushed crimson from throat to belly with the marks of his teeth, his palms, his fingers.

Sweat beaded in the hollow of her throat, slid between her breasts that still quivered with every ragged breath, dripped off the curve of her hip, traced the line of her waist

She looked like she’d been fucked by a hurricane, and the sight dragged another surge of blood straight to Devon’s cock until it stood flushed and angry again, veins pulsing visibly, the head slick and purple, a fresh, fat bead of pre-cum already pearling at the slit and threatening to fall.

He knelt between her spread legs, slow, deliberate, the mattress sinking deep under his weight.

The air in the room was thick, humid, saturated with the smell of them: sex, sweat, cum, the faint metallic tang of torn skin where he’d scratched her back raw.

He inhaled it like a drug, eyes half-lidded, lips curling into a dark, satisfied smile.

One rough hand slid up the inside of her thigh, calloused palm scraping over tender, trembling skin, gathering the mess he’d left inside her, scooping it out in thick, creamy streaks that clung to his fingers like frosting.

Marianne whimpered, oversensitive, hips jerking away and then helplessly toward him again, a broken little sob catching in her throat.

He brought those slick fingers higher, higher, until the pad of his thumb circled the tight, untouched ring of her ass. The muscle fluttered instinctively, clenching hard, trying to hide.

Her breath hitched so violently her whole body shuddered.

"Devon... no... I’ve never—"

He cut her off with a low, filthy chuckle that vibrated straight through her clit and made her pussy clench around nothing.

He pressed the cum-slick thumb against her, slow, relentless, watching her face like a predator watching prey realise the trap has already sprung.

The first breach drew a sharp, shocked cry from her throat.

Her back arched clean off the bed, fists twisting in the sheets so hard her knuckles went white.

The burn was immediate, white-hot, foreign, terrifying, and so fucking good her eyes rolled back and her toes curled.

He held the pressure steady, letting her feel every millimetre, letting her body fight and then slowly, helplessly, open.

"Breathe through it," he ordered, voice gravel and smoke, thick with lust.

He worked her with maddening, worshipful patience.

One thumb became two fingers, scissoring wide, stretching her open, twisting, spreading the thick mixture of their releases until the tight ring fluttered and softened and began to gleam under the low light.

When he added a third finger, curling, stroking, opening her wider, Marianne sobbed into the pillow, tears streaking her temples, hips rocking in tiny, involuntary circles.

Pain and pleasure braided so tight she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

Her clit throbbed in time with her heartbeat, swollen and aching, begging for touch.

Minutes bled into an eternity of wet sounds, broken whimpers, and the low, soothing stroke of his free hand over her belly, her breasts, pinching a nipple hard enough to make her gasp, then soothing it with his tongue.

He kept her teetering on the edge, never letting her tip over, just letting the dark heat build and build until she was pushing back against his hand, fucking herself on his fingers, begging in cracked, desperate whispers.

"Please... please, Devon..."

Only then did he pull his fingers free with a slow, wet, obscene sound and replace them with the broad, flushed crown of his cock.

Marianne’s eyes flew open, wide and panicked, pupils blown black with terror and lust.

He was huge, impossibly thick, veins standing out angry and proud, the head alone looked obscene pressed against that tiny, fluttering hole, glistening with cum and her own juices.

"Devon, it’s too big, it’s too much—"

He leaned over her, one hand braced beside her head, the other guiding his cock, and kissed her slow and deep, swallowing her protests.

"Good girl," he growled against her lips.

He pushed.

The resistance was brutal.

Her body locked up, muscles clamping down hard, trying to keep him out, but he was relentless.

He rocked forward in tiny, shallow thrusts, letting the slick and gravity and sheer will do their work, letting her feel every fraction of give.

The fat crown finally breached her with a slick, burning pop that tore a raw scream from her throat, high and broken and beautiful.

Devon groaned like a dying man. the grip of her ass was molten, tighter than anything he’d ever felt, a velvet vice trying to strangle his cock and pull him deeper all at once.

He held perfectly still, sweat dripping from his brow onto her stomach, letting her adjust, letting the burn settle into something darker, something that made her thighs fall open wider without permission, something that made her breath come in shaky, needy little pants.

"Breathe, baby," he rasped again, voice shredded.

She did, sobbing, shaking, tears streaming down her temples into her hair, and inch by agonising inch he fed his cock into her virgin ass, hands spreading her cheeks so wide the skin went white under his grip, watching himself disappear into that impossibly tight ring.

The sight was so filthy his vision tunneled.

When his hips finally met her ass, balls pressed tight against her dripping pussy, they both shuddered so violently the headboard rattled against the wall.

For a long, suspended moment neither moved.

He could feel her pulse around him, frantic, fluttering, trying to accommodate the invasion.

She could feel every vein, every throb, the impossible stretch, the way he filled her so completely there was no room for anything but him, no thought, no shame, no yesterday or tomorrow.

Then he began to move.

Slow, dragging strokes at first, pulling almost all the way out until just the head kissed her ring, then sliding back in to the root in one long, smooth glide that made her sob with relief and need.

Each thrust dragged the ridge of his cock against raw, untouched nerves, lighting her up from the inside out like firecrackers under her skin.

The first moan that left her lips was soft, shocked, almost involuntary.

"Oh... oh fuck... Devon..."

Then another, louder, filthier, as the burn melted into molten pleasure.

"Nngh... yes... oh my God, yes..."

He reached beneath her, two thick fingers sliding into her soaked pussy without warning, curling hard against her front wall while his thumb tormented her clit in tight, vicious circles.

The double penetration made her scream, made her ass clamp down so hard he saw stars.

He fucked her like that, slow and deep, fingers and cock in perfect, devastating rhythm, until the first anal orgasm tore through her like a seizure.

"Ahhh! Devon! I’m—fuck—I’m coming!"

Her whole body convulsed, ass milking him in brutal pulses, pussy gushing around his fingers, soaking his wrist, the sheets, everything.

She screamed his name until her voice cracked, back bowing off the bed, toes curling so hard they cramped, a long, broken "Fuuuuuck... oh God... Devon!" spilling from her lips in waves.

He didn’t give her time to recover.

He pulled her up onto her knees, chest pressed to her sweat-slick back, one steel arm banded across her breasts, rolling and pinching her nipples until she sobbed and begged.

The other hand stayed buried in her cunt, three fingers now, stretching her, fucking her in time with the cock in her ass.

The angle drove him deeper; she screamed, head falling back against his shoulder, tears streaming.

"Ohhh... yes... harder... please..."

Another orgasm slammed into her before the first had even faded, her voice climbing higher, "Devon! I can’t—ahhh!—I’m coming again!"

He pushed her forward again, face down, ass high, cheeks spread obscenely wide by his rough hands. He pounded into her with savage, punishing thrusts that rocked the bed against the wall with every stroke.

The slap of his hips against her reddened flesh echoed like gunshots.

"Yes, yes, yes, fuck my ass, Devon!" she wailed, voice hoarse, another climax ripping through her, pussy squirting in helpless, messy arcs that soaked his thighs and the sheets beneath them.

"Don’t stop—oh God don’t stop!"

He flipped her onto her side, hooked one trembling leg over his shoulder, and drove back in.

The new angle made her scream so loud the sound cracked. He swallowed it with a bruising kiss, tongue fucking her mouth in time with his cock in her ass, fingers still buried in her cunt, curling, stroking, relentless.

"Mmmph—yes—right there—fuck!" she moaned into his mouth, coming again, body seizing, tears streaming.

He rolled her onto her back, legs pushed up and spread obscenely wide, knees almost to her shoulders, and took her like that, watching her face as he fucked her ass in deep, punishing strokes.

"Ohhh... Devon... it’s so deep... I’m gonna come again..."

She did, screaming, clawing at the sheets, another gush of wetness flooding out of her.

He pulled her to the edge of the bed, stood between her thighs, lifted her hips until only her shoulders touched the mattress.

The angle was brutal; every thrust drove straight down, balls slapping her tailbone.

"Fuck—fuck—fuck—yes!" she chanted, voice breaking on every word, another orgasm tearing her apart.

He dragged her upright, spun her to face the mirror, bent her forward until her palms slapped glass. He entered her again from behind, fisted her hair, forced her to watch.

"Look at yourself, baby... look how perfect you take my cock in your ass..."

She watched, mouth open, eyes glassy, moaning nonstop, "So good... so fucking good... I’m coming—watch me come—" and she did, knees buckling, held up only by his grip.

He lifted her bodily, pinned her to the wall, legs around his waist, gravity impaling her completely.

"Oh my God—Devon—too deep—gonna come—"

She squirted again, soaking them both, screaming into his neck.

He dropped to the carpet, folded her in half, ankles by her ears, short vicious strokes.

"More... more... please... I need—"

Another climax, longer, harder, her voice nothing but broken sobs of pleasure.

He flipped her to all fours, hair like reins, fingers on her clit.

"I can’t stop coming—Devon—I can’t—"

She came again, arms collapsing, face pressed to the carpet, ass still high, babbling his name.

Final position: reverse cowgirl on the bed.

He sat back, hands bruising her hips, making her ride him, making her fuck herself on his cock in her ass while he watched it disappear over and over.

"Ride me, baby... show me how much you love it..."

She did, moaning, grinding, screaming, "I love it—I love your cock in my ass—oh fuck I’m coming again!" until she was limp, boneless, utterly destroyed, one last shuddering orgasm rolling through her like thunder.

Outside the door, Eleanor had been listening for nearly one hour.

Her elegant dress was bunched at her waist, panties soaked and pushed aside, fingers buried deep, coming silently again and again to the endless soundtrack of Marianne’s ruined pleasure.

Tears of shame and unbearable arousal streaked her face.

Inside, Devon finally felt the edge.

With a guttural snarl he pulled out, fisted his slick cock, and painted thick, endless ropes across her face, open mouth, tongue, breasts, belly, thighs. She moaned like a woman possessed, licking greedily, eyes glazed.

He pushed back into her mouth, let her clean every inch until he was shaking.

She sucked him greedily, tears and cum streaking her face, until he pulled free with a wet pop.

He dressed in silence, shirt half-buttoned, trousers zipped, hair wild, the scent of raw sex clinging like smoke.

Marianne lay sprawled, gasping, cum dripping from every hole, body trembling with aftershocks.

Devon gave her one last possessive look, raked fingers through his hair, and walked to the door.

He opened it.

Eleanor stood frozen, lips parted, hand still beneath her skirt, fingers glistening, pupils blown, cheeks crimson.

For one suspended heartbeat, the world stopped.

Then Devon’s lips curved into that slow, wicked, devastating smile.

"Evening," he said, staring at the woman with surprise written all over her face before he then walked past her.