Meanwhile, inside the luxurious black Rolls Royce speeding down the street, the air was thick and heavy with the rich scent of supple leather and Sarah's potent, sweet-musk cunt. Her soon-to-be husband — a powerful, wealthy man — had been reduced to a pathetic, whimpering dog. He knelt obediently on the carpeted floor right between her spread thighs, forehead inches from her shoes, face burning with shame and desperate lust as he stared hungrily at the massive, dark wet spot soaking through the crotch of her skin-tight yoga pants. The thin black fabric clung obscenely to her plump, completely shaved pussy, molding perfectly around her swollen, puffy outer lips and the hard little pearl of her clit that pressed visibly against the seam.
Sarah didn't even glance at him. She lounged back like a queen in the plush seat, massive heavy tits spilling out of her low-cut cream tank top, fat pink nipples rock-hard and poking out like thick bullets through the thin cotton. One manicured finger lazily scrolled her phone as she spoke in a cool, commanding voice dripping with absolute dominance:
"Send my baby boy Alex a monthly allowance — millions. I don't care how much, just make it happen."
The rich man's cock strained painfully in his designer trousers, a fresh wet patch of his own precum blooming at the front. He bowed even lower until his nose almost brushed her soaked pussy mound and whispered breathlessly, "Yes, Master…"
Back inside the house, the second the luxury car disappeared down the street I exploded up from the chair with wild, manic energy. I cranked the filthiest hip-hop playlist to full blast on the speakers, heavy 808 bass booming through every room and vibrating deep in my chest and straight down to my tightening balls. I ripped my t-shirt off, sweat already glistening on my abs, and started dancing like a fucking lunatic — way too happily — hips thrusting hard and aggressive, body rolling, ass popping to the beat.
My loose grey sweatpants hung dangerously low on my hips, letting my thick, heavy nine-inch cock swing and slap loudly against my thighs with every filthy move. The fat purple head was already leaking fresh, sticky ropes of precum again, soaking the front of the fabric into a huge, dark, spreading wet spot that clung to the swollen shaft.
"Fuck YES! The slut is finally gone!" I shouted happily over the pounding music, laughing like a madman while grinding the air like I was balls-deep in tight pussy. "That cock-addicted whore was dragging a different man home almost every single week, getting her brains fucked out loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear — those huge tits slapping, her sloppy wet cunt making those nasty squelching sounds while she screamed like a bitch in heat. But I don't give a damn anymore! Damn, that slut never let me sleep peacefully since I was a kid — always moaning and begging to be bred through the walls at 3 AM while my cock stayed rock-hard all night!"
I dropped low, twerking my ass hard to the beat, heavy balls swinging freely, then popped back up, still dancing like crazy.
"And the best part? She left me this whole luxurious house and she's wiring me millions every month? I'm gonna turn this place into my personal fuck palace — banging a new dripping, tight young chick every single week, rotating sluts through my bed non-stop, pumping load after load into fresh pussy!"
I spun around mid-thrust, then burst out laughing even harder, still wildly humping the air, my cock now fully rock-hard again and tenting my sweatpants obscenely.
"Wait… shit," I cracked up, grabbing my throbbing bulge and giving it a rough squeeze, "isn't that exactly what my stepmom was doing this whole time? Getting railed by different guys every week like a total cumdump? Ahhh fuck it — it clearly runs in the family blood. Like mother, like son, baby!"
Still grinning ear to ear, cock leaking and throbbing, I kept dancing happily through the empty house, bass thumping, pure filthy freedom and filthy possibilities rushing through my veins.
The sleek black Rolls Royce had been winched aboard Sarah's private superyacht hours ago, and now the massive vessel cut silently through moonlit waves toward her undetectable private island — a fortress so cloaked in next-gen stealth tech that even military satellites saw only empty ocean.
Inside her opulent master suite the air was warm, scented with expensive leather, sea salt, and the thick, heady musk of her constantly dripping cunt. Sarah had fully transformed into the Boss. A razor-sharp black blazer hung open over nothing but a sheer black lace bra that did almost nothing to contain her enormous, heavy tits — the fat, puffy pink nipples stiff as bullets, pressing obscenely against the transparent fabric. Her tight pencil skirt was rucked up around her waist, and her tiny black thong was already soaked through, the dark wet patch clinging to the plump, swollen lips of her shaved pussy.
A dozen elite bodyguards — black, white, Latino, Asian, every one of them towering, ripped, and armed to the teeth with pistols, knives, and suppressed rifles — stood like statues in the corridor outside.
Sarah snapped her fingers once.
The biggest of them — a 6'6" black mountain of muscle — stepped inside and closed the door.
"Don't strip," she ordered, voice cold and commanding. "We have exactly thirty minutes until we dock."
He nodded, eyes locked on her spread thighs. He simply unzipped his tactical pants and hauled out his massive cock — ten thick, veiny inches, rock-hard, the dark shaft pulsing, the fat mushroom head already glistening with a fat bead of precum.
Sarah didn't even glance at him. She stayed seated at the polished mahogany table, spread her thick, stocking-clad thighs wider, and used two manicured fingers to hook the soaked thong to the side. Her perfect pink pussy was on full display — puffy outer lips glistening, inner folds shiny and open, her swollen clit peeking out like a hard little pearl, a thick, creamy strand of her girl-cum already stretching from her hole to the seat beneath her.
No foreplay. No kiss. No touch.
He stepped between her legs, gripped her wide hips with iron fingers, lined up the blunt head of his cock, and slammed balls-deep into her scorching, dripping cunt in one savage thrust. Her pink lips stretched obscenely around his girth, gripping him like wet velvet.
The filthy, wet sounds started immediately — loud, rhythmic *schlick-schlick-schlick* as he pounded her with deep, brutal strokes, heavy balls slapping wetly against her ass, her creamy juices frothing white around his pistoning shaft. Her massive tits bounced heavily inside the sheer bra, nipples scraping the lace with every violent thrust.
Sarah never moaned. Never even breathed harder. She simply held her phone in one hand, scrolling through the live feed of Alex dancing shirtless through the house, sweatpants tented obscenely, thick cock swinging and leaking as he laughed like a free man. A soft, almost tender smile touched her lips as she watched her baby boy celebrate.
The bodyguard fucked her harder, faster, hips slamming, cock rearranging her insides, the wet squelching growing louder and sloppier until he buried himself to the hilt with a low grunt and unloaded — thick, hot ropes of cum blasting straight into her womb.
When he pulled out, his cock was spotless. Not a single drop of semen leaked from her greedy, perfectly trained pussy — every last jet had been sucked deep inside and claimed.
He zipped up, turned on his heel, and walked out without a word, as if he'd only delivered a message.
Sarah licked her plump, glossy lips slowly, tasting power and satisfaction, and purred in a low, velvety voice:
"Mmm… that energy wasn't bad at all."
Her tongue flicked out again, eyes half-lidded with dark pleasure.
"Tasty… always."
A few minutes later the superyacht glided smoothly into the hidden port of the secret island, ready for whatever filthy, depraved games its queen had planned next.
I finally slowed my wild dancing, chest heaving, skin slick with a shiny layer of sweat that made every ridge of my abs glisten under the lights. The heavy bass still thumped low in my veins as I let out a long, lazy yawn like a big, satisfied cat — mouth wide, eyes half-closed in pure bliss. Then I stretched hard, arms reaching high above my head, back arching deeply, which made my loose grey sweatpants slide dangerously low on my hips. The waistband caught right below the thick base of my heavy nine-inch cock, exposing the smooth, veiny root and the top half of my full, cum-churning balls. The fat purple head still throbbed visibly through the damp fabric, a fresh, sticky rope of precum soaking through and forming a long, glistening trail that dripped slowly down the inside of my thigh.
Directly across the street, in the luxurious villa Sarah had quietly bought and turned into a private observation post, two elite female bodyguards — hand-picked and extremely well-paid to "guard" me — stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, binoculars forgotten, eyes locked on every filthy detail of my body.
Lila — a sultry 24-year-old Latina with long dark curls, full cock-sucking lips, and a body built for sin — bit her lower lip, her massive DD tits straining against a tight black tank top, thick nipples diamond-hard and poking obscenely through the thin material. Her yoga shorts were already soaked at the crotch, the outline of her plump, shaved pussy lips clearly visible as she squeezed her thighs together.
Beside her stood Nova — a cool, statuesque 26-year-old blonde with icy blue eyes, razor-sharp cheekbones, and an even tighter athletic body. Her black sports bra barely contained her perky C-cups, nipples stiff as bullets, and her tiny shorts rode high on her long, toned legs, the seam wedged deep between her own dripping folds.
"Young Master looks so fucking happy," Lila purred, voice thick with lust, one hand unconsciously sliding down to press against her soaked pussy mound.
"Hmm," Nova answered, but her voice was husky, pupils blown wide as she stared at the obscene bulge and the wet precum stain spreading across my sweatpants.
Lila glanced sideways, smirking. "What are you doing?"
Nova didn't look away from me. "Reading the most detailed guide on how to seduce 20-year-old boys… every technique, every position, how to edge them for hours, how to milk their young cocks dry with my throat and pussy until they're addicted and begging to breed me."
Lila's eyes sparkled with wicked heat. "Hmm… interesting. Let me see that."
She stepped closer until their full, soft breasts pressed together, both women now shoulder-to-shoulder, breathing faster as they scrolled through the ultra-explicit guide together — pages filled with close-up photos of tight young cocks disappearing into dripping cunts, deepthroat techniques, creampie training, and tips on making a boy cum so many times he forgets his own name.
While I kept stretching, completely unaware, groaning softly as my heavy cock gave a thick, visible throb and another fat drop of precum rolled down my thigh, the two gorgeous predators smiled at each other with pure, hungry intent — already wet, already planning exactly how they were going to ruin me the second they got their chance.