From Mother To Daughter 2 (Patreon)

Greta felt the urge to scream, but no utterance would make its way out of her throat. She managed to roll to the side, but Cannon only forced her back supine. He held her down. Greta felt her sex clench. Then he was against her, the hard burning length of his endowment running across her soft belly.

“This is what you’re meant to satisfy,” he told her. “Whether it wants in your mouth, your pussy, your ass, or between your tits, it’s your calling to get all my cum out of this hard cock. You weren’t made for anything else. You’re a cum dumpster and I’m going to use you as a cum dumpster. You’ll thank me when you’re covered in my seed—inside and out.”

“Let me go!” Greta gasped. “You’re crazy!” Unwilling to hear what he was saying, unwilling to believe it could possibly be true. She was a woman… a human being!

“I’ll let you go as soon as my balls are empty,” he said. “Now hold still. I don’t need you making any fancy moves, trying to make me come. Right now, you’re just a hole. You have to learn that before you try pleasing my cock.”

He didn’t understand. He was soiling her, tainting her, for any future man. It hadn’t worked with Schneider, but that didn’t mean she would never find a husband. Only she didn’t want to meet her future husband while filled with another man’s cum. She panted and fought, trying to scratch Cannon’s face with her long nails.

“You’ll learn,” Cannon said simply, easily pinning her arms to her sides.

His strength so outweighed hers that it seemed sadistic. Greta whimpered and tried to twist her hips to the side, breaking the alignment of his attack with her target, but he’d already gotten his swollen manhood between her legs. She felt it all but branding her tender folds, skillfully seeking out her opening to make it his receptacle.

“The sooner you admit you want this,” Cannon said huskily, “the sooner you can enjoy it.”

“You're awful, just awful, thinking you can abuse me this way—OOHH!”

His sudden penetration took her by surprise. He got the thickly swollen head of his manhood into the moist little part in her flesh, then pushed ahead. He took her fully with that one brutal thrust. By the way Greta clutched down on him, she definitely knew how full she was—stuffed full of his thick member. Wracked by all the pleasure that came with its tight fit.

“Yeah, just the right size,” Cannon groaned, starting to pump his cock in her neat wet sheath, slowly wearing away her resistance. Stirring her folds to an aroused wetness until there was nothing left but the lubricated rhythm of him giving it and her taking it. “Woman, you are tight. Haven’t had much since I finished with you, huh?”

She hadn’t. Too hard to find someone who did to her what he did to her. All those abortive sexual encounters did was muddy the memory of how she’d come for him. She didn’t want to lose it; but clearly she hadn’t been able to hold onto it, because if only she’d remembered… God, she couldn’t believe she’d tried to resist him!

Greta moaned and went limp. She’d been starving for this and her shameless cunt didn’t at all care how crudely he’d gotten it into her. Even if she’d loved every hair on Schneider’s head, her body just had to accept a cock this big, with the wild pleasure it brought.

She went cross-eyed, feeling her own wetness being fed to her with her juices smeared all over Cannon’s full stroking masculinity and worked back inside her tight slit.

“Uhhhh,” she groaned, sensing blasts of delight pop and snap inside her, all apart from the feeling of being skewered, only set off by the shockwaves purring out of her deliciously violated cunt.

Her gorgeous face twisted into a needful grimace. Cannon saw her eyes flood with lust, her heat burn all around his pumping cock. He grinned darkly. “Yeah, take it,” he panted. “You know this is what you were meant for. A nice little hole for me to keep my prick jammed into.”

Greta couldn’t even hear him. She’d been so horny for so long that now her body was all violent response to this deep, hard fuck. Her long legs fell pornographically open, letting him bury his member all the way to her womb.

And as he hammered into her, closer and closer to her cervix, her only reaction was to gurgle and squeal and groan her enjoyment. Now that Cannon had broken her in, he fucked even harder and faster. Her soft utterances changed to hoarse shouts.

“Yes, YES!” she cried. “FUCK ME, FILL MEEEE… oh, shit, YES!”

Suddenly her body seemed to explode—only it didn’t. It kept bursting and bursting, pulsing with throbs so big that she felt she would black out every time the wave swept over her.

She rocked with each convulsion, wailing anew as her mind cracked again and again, long minutes of this eternal orgasm reducing her thoughts to rubble and leaving nothing but an addict’s gratitude in her.

All that was left of her was want and all she wanted was Cannon’s approval, the steamy flood of his cum the ultimate proof that she’d succeeded at being his cock slut.

But Cannon wasn’t coming anytime soon. He had plenty of frustration to work out and enjoyment to savor and nothing better for it than Greta’s luscious body. So he kept fucking her and fucking her, mildly surprised she hadn’t passed out yet, but not caring much either way.

Awake or asleep, she was still a sweet hole and not much more than that. But awake, he got to enjoy her gibbering.

Her brain crushed under the onslaught of pleasure, Greta could only understand that she needed his cum and the only way to get it was to keep fucking him. So she kept up a steady chant, keeping herself awake with the sound of her own words while Cannon worked as silently, and as tirelessly, as a well-oiled piston.

“Fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme…”

***

Wendy couldn’t believe what a simp her old man was. After finally kicking Greta out, he still wasn’t quits with her—she’d taken plenty of her father’s prize possessions with her, things that had belonged to Wendy’s birth mother, and her father not only let her keep them, he saw them as somehow being Greta’s way of getting him to reconcile with her.

Well, Wendy wasn’t having that. She would get those things back herself and Greta could just stay gone. No waiting around for absence to make the heart grow fonder: she personally marched to Greta’s latest love nest and looked in the front window, almost hoping she’d catch Greta with one of her boy toys. How she’d love to wreck one of the trysts Greta was always indulging in!

Only she recognized this boy toy. It was Cannon—the man who’d rescued her—the man she’d found so attractive she was actually ready to give him her virginity. Wendy couldn’t believe what he was doing with Greta.

She kept looking from Cannon’s broad, muscular back and then to that long set of slender legs up in the air… who could that be but Greta, even if all Wendy could see of her was the veed legs sticking out to either side of Cannon’s body and the pale arms wrapped around his bronzed back—the lacquered nails dug into his tanned flesh…

That couldn’t be Cannon! He was such a good man, so decent, so noble, refusing even Wendy in her hour of weakness. He would never take up with a harlot like Greta, she knew it! But if it was… Wendy had to get a better look.

The front door was locked, but Greta kept a spare key under the welcome mat. Wendy helped herself to it, but carefully. She wouldn’t want them to hear her scratching at the lock or creaking the doorknob.

She twisted the key slowly in its receptacle, then turned the knob even slower. Wondering all the time if she’d even catch them at anything. Their mating had been so frenzied, so passionate, like they were on the verge of climax. Something in how white-knuckled Greta’s fingers had been on Cannon’s back told Wendy that she’d been either orgasmic or close to it.

Finally, Wendy cracked the door open. She crouched low to the ground and looked through the ajar opening.

She saw the back of Cannon’s balls and a little bit of Greta’s flashing pink when he pulled back to feed her another thrust. His hard-muscled ass drove his huge shaft into Greta with long, hard strokes, making the floorboards shake and shimmy like loose teeth.

Wendy didn’t see how Greta could take such a thrashing without crying out in pain—but maybe the whore was used to it. Her legs scissored in the air, squeezing around Cannon’s midsection, then flying wide open, like they just had to make some move even in their paralyzed ecstasy.