Kelly Monaco Lifted

Kelly Monaco Lifted

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Kelly Monaco, Miss April 1997,(34D-21-32, 5'1", 95lb) is a feisty delight in the classic struggle between female and male; once more she tussles with her nemesis and we are delighted by the results.

Summary

Kelly Monaco, Miss April 1997,(34D-21-32, 5'1", 95lb) is a feisty delight in the classic struggle between female and male; once more she tussles with her nemesis and we are delighted by the results.

Content

Submitted: July 25, 2016

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Content

Submitted: July 25, 2016

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Momentum might have been the reason she became so agitated; petite playmate Kelly Monaco had never paid much attention during high school physics but she remembered something vague about bodies in motion. The upsweep, that’s what thrilled her when her legs were swept out from under her, her torso falling back against his strong arm, the rush of air as she was lifted, the vigor and potency forcing a gasp of arousal from her luscious lips.  That single sweeping fluid motion of lifting her off her feet and into his arms left no doubt. Reggie was going to rape her; he was taking her, possessing her in that one forceful gesture and she would fight and struggle, but still her body and soul couldn’t help but swoon in that first moment of soaring flight.  His silent attack startled her of course but she made no sound except one desperate gasp for air.
 
Then there was the rush forward; for all his hulking mass and muscle, Reggie was graceful, like an athlete at his peak. He had swooped her up in one fluid motion, her hair flying in a perfect arc and then swooshing back behind her as his legs thrust forward, momentum carrying his prisoner to her fate.
 
Kelly, of course, struggled mightily; her tiny body was a tornado of flying limbs kicking and punching and scratching. Once she found her breath she expelled a volley of curses and threats worthy of the toughest Philly street gang. But her rapist’s velocity overwhelmed her as much as the steel band strength of his arm. He was silent except for his cruel confident chuckle over her helpless struggle; his distain for her resistance made her even more furious. She kicked, scratched, twisted, and cursed with all the pent of violence her eighteen years could muster.
 
Her fierce but futile struggle did nothing to stop his momentum; he had her, he had taken her in surprise and with determination; now he was going to fuck her. Her writhing resistance was just the warm up; her passion, extreme and volatile, spiraled into arousal and her screams of rage would soon be screams of ecstasy.
 
The cabana was poolside; the Playboy Mansion had several of these small outlier buildings, small cottages really, and Reggie had commandeered this one for his most recent stay at the Mansion. When he had spotted Kelly walking by in simple cutoff jeans and a lyrca crop-top the luscious girl was on a leisurely stroll across the expansive lawn to the cages where the publisher had a small menagerie of exotic animals.
 
She’d been oblivious to her fate as she strolled by the cabana; admiring the clear blue skies and the floating clouds, she was glibly singing "Ooh Aah... Just a Little Bit" by Gina G. It wasn’t the overt sexuality of the pop lyrics, it was the nubile young girl’s unconcealed sensuality that hit him, like the scent of the prey drawing in the tiger. His decision was immediate and the physicality of his actions synced perfectly with his brain; he was off the couch, out the door (leaving it open to make it easier to return with his struggling captive) and then he was behind her, silent as a predatory cat. Without breaking his momentum he swooped her into his arms and turned back to his lair. From the instant he decided to rape her, the motion was continuous, flowing, sinuous; the poor girl didn’t have a chance.
 
Inside the cabana was dim with the soft afternoon light rippling in reflection from the pool, and even in her struggling Kelly could see the unmade bed, evidence that Reggie had been busy already, but she also saw a rope dangling from a hook mounted in the ceiling and her imagination screamed at her to redouble her resistance. She gripped the doorjamb for a moment but the momentum was too much for her tiny fingers.
 
Reggie immediately carried her to the rope and while she continued her epic thrashing and cursing his nimble fingers managed to bind her wrists and hoist her arms above her head. He was glib, almost jaunty, as he worked to bind her; she fought furiously, earnestly, as her supple youthful legs blurred in kicking rage.
 
Once she was secured with her arms stretched above her head, her hair flying wildly, her legs in constant thrashing gesticulation, she looked like a fierce bird in flight. Her curses spat out unabated by her binding. He stepped to one side and with a sharp jerk yanked the other end of the rope and jetted her up off the floor. The helpless girl spiraled in the air; her thrashing legs sent her swinging into flight but the agony of dangling from her arms drew howls of rage from deep in her lungs.
 
He casually moved a footstool under the hook holding the rope then captured the girl in mid-flight and planted her feet on the hassock so her weight was supported. She continued to kick but he was practiced enough to stand behind her. When his palm pressed against her bare belly she froze but her rage burned, undiminished. He felt her resplendent body tremble; he snorted, satisfied; He wanted her to be a little on edge. The strong adrenaline fed his inner animal, like playing Russian roulette with six cartridges in the cylinder.
 
The only sound in the room now was her shallow, frantic breathing and the agitated pounding of her heart. Her succulent breasts heaved up and down with each breath. Her legs quivered like young trees in a storm.
 
He pressed harder on her bare belly; with her standing on the hassock her juicy ass was perfectly aligned to his cock and he started to grind against her. This sparked her resistance again and she managed to snarl through clenched teeth, “Get your hands off me, you bastard.”
 
He just laughed. “How did you know?” He was jovial but still grinding into her bottom. “As a matter of fact, my old man did rape my mother. She became a Playmate too.” He laughed viciously. “Like father like son.”
 
The word rape sent her into a spasm of frantic futile thrashing. Her legs tried to kick out behind her; her bare feet, the sandals had been kicked off in her first struggle, struck the top of the hassock in frenzied thumping. She was like a wild filly fighting in a stall or a caged bird beating against her cage. With her arms still pinioned above her head she looked as though she was about to soar into her fate.
 
As soon as his heavy hand rested on her bare shoulder her writhing stopped. All senses in the room suddenly went on alert; every sound seemed important, from her soulful panting, to the slightest rustle of fabric. Every shift in the air, every ripple of light held the same urgency and consequence. His finger tip, tracing along the strap of her top sent an explosion of sensations throughout her body. The lyrca crop-top was a deep black and as she struggled she sweated until the bra glowed with a moist sheen. It was tight of course, constructed in an old-school design with lots of clamps and hooks front and back. The shoulder straps were fastened to the bodice by delicate metal clamps but his thick strong fingers undid them with efficient eagerness as he slipped the strap off her left shoulder she could feel the release of the elastic. With the straps gone he easily pushed down the fabric covering her breasts. The cups seemed to pull away reluctantly but the nipples, when exposed, were bright red with excitement and, with her arms above her head, her beautiful breasts flew up like heavenly clouds. Her furious thrashing made those lush creamy mounds bounce deliciously until he greedily cupped them in his hands. She wriggled and writhed in resistance but he brazenly fondled her breasts, giving special attention to her candy-hard nipples; his face nuzzled against her throat and bare shoulder, torturing her with the stubble on his chin. Her nipples were evangelizing, stretching out to him and his mouth cooperated, bringing his lips over each one in turn, sucking, nibbling, biting. Her luscious flesh was proclaiming heaven on earth.
 
 
Kelly was enraged by her own arousal; she stamped her pretty slender foot with the force of a Budweiser Clydesdale and sparks of fire shot from her eyes. She could see herself reflected in a mirror on the wall and her angry gaze locked onto the eyes of her captor, who standing behind her, gleefully mauled and abused her naked breasts.
 
As he ravished her body the disheveled crop-top seemed to grow tighter around her, like a deadly snake. The bodice was closed with a series of hooks and their rough treatment in his hands made her gasp and she watched, frozen and fierce; he wrenched the fabric until each hook tore off in a sharp pop. The hooks surrendered one at a time in rapid succession as he ripped through the front of the lyrca crop-top and tossed it aside. He gazed at her now topless torso and continued to caress over her luscious flesh.
 
His hands moved down her bare belly, then up again while tracing the soft curves of her waist. His fingers brushed over her nipples again, then caressed over her throat and face. She couldn’t help slipping out her tongue and lapping over the palm of his hand, then drawing one of his fingers into her sweet mouth. They rocked together slowly; the heat of him behind her, grinding into her, was pulling her to the edge of her own doom.
 
She groaned when his finger slid from her lips and began to trace a moist line down her throat, between her breasts, over her navel – the finger was floating to the inevitable. His large hands splayed over her bare belly and his pinkies edged into the waistband of her tight denim shorts. The cut-offs were the button fly style and she cursed herself for wearing them now because he would be spending a long time undoing each button.
 
Her trepidation was well-founded. His thick cruel fingers tugged the waistband of the cut-offs and nimbly worked over the first button. The soft flesh underneath revealed itself shyly as the poor girl held her breath. The next button was tighter; his fingers pushed against her flesh and she tingled with arousal. As the button finally found release from its slot Reggie let his finger tips caress over the first hints of the curls of her bush.
 
Before working the third button he took time to push the fly open as much as the two still closed buttons allowed. Kelly was undulating slowly and moaning her reluctant arousal. He wrapped one arm around her waist and, breathing hot and cruel against her throat, his fingers attacked the third closure. It was tight and seemed to resist his invasion; Kelly groaned under the heat of his hand and his fingers seemed to be toying with her clit as they worked over that unwilling button. When it at last popped open Kelly could feel the release in the rush of air over her almost bare pussy.
 
Thrills came with the fourth button’s surrender. The tight denim had already loosened but now it was the moist sweat of her excited skin keeping the fabric clinging to her. Momentum now would be a downward sweep of his arm to snatch away the shorts. But first that last, defiant button. He used both hands, his arms pinning her against him, her ass gyrating into his crotch as he worked. He growled wordless approval into her throat and shoulder as he nuzzled into her honey-sweet hair. His fingers toyed with the button and tugged the fabric around it; slowly the disc slid through the closure until in a final rush of release, like a small but sweet climax, it came undone.
 
As she knew it would, the caress of the denim sliding down her bare legs sent her heart racing; she needed to feel his hands on her unembellished flesh. She raised each delicate foot in turn and she herself, flipped the shorts away with a bold flick of her leg. She groaned as his hands glided over her calves and thighs; slowly his finger were coming to the flimsy wisp of lace that pretended to be her panties.
 
Kelly’s lithe, light body was still in momentum’s grip; gravity nothing, she soared on the thrill of arousal. From the tension of the ropes on her wrists pinioned above her head to anxiety in her stretched limbs, she tingled even in her tense struggling toes but she was arcing up, like a sinning angel straining towards the heavens, trying to seek solace in the solid potency of his greedy hands.
 
She expected, waited breathlessly, for the wisp of panty lace to be ripped away. Instead his hand slithered under the gossamer web and caressed over the soft silken sheen of her well-trimmed bush.
 
She looked down. While he was a dark storm cloud invisible behind her, his hand was solid, real, dangerous. He had one arm around her slender throat; the other around her waist. The harsh contrast of his thick firm fingers slipping under the fragile whisper of lace brought first a stirring, that peculiar thrill frozen in concentration, waiting, expecting—the spontaneous overflow of formidable responses. The invading hand, her rapist’s hand, dissolved with mythic force the boundaries between her fear and her desire.
 
The caress was slight, almost a breeze over her sex, but it had a power behind it like a bullet train rushing past her face. Her head dropped back in submission; his arm around her throat coiled like a patient snake. Her eyes looked up at the ceiling and she saw the crisscross framework of steel rods; she saw chains dangling down like cold tears. If she had a rational thought she would have seen that the room had been retrofitted for pleasure and pain, his and hers; the chains were for her torture. Her eyes registered the harsh glint of steel but lust was sparked like a sudden daydream: her tiny head on his shoulder, she was breathing moist desire over the stubble on his cheek. Her lithe body arched, offering her breasts up to the gods and her rapist, lifting her helpless pussy into his hand.
 
He was growling wordlessly; his arm tightened once more and she let out a little gasp. Her hips thrust up and his finger pierced her sex; just a little poke, his middle finger up to the knuckle twisted teasingly inside her and then it was gone. Her throat was released and air filled her lungs and she soared, dangling from the rope, dancing on the footstool in surrender to her arousal.
 
He was out of sight behind her and a sudden metallic snap froze her as though a chain had whipped across her naked back. Then there was more clanging and rattling; he was rummaging through his toys.
 
His heavy footsteps approached her and she winced when another sharp metal bark slapped her ears. It was the sound of an opening stepladder. He worked briskly, whistling a jazzy riff. She saw him attach a metal loop to the pipes above her; then he attached a rope to the loop. The rope turned out to be part of a swing.
 
She didn’t know what was coming but she dreaded it and began to plea. “Reggie, let’s do it on the bed. You can do me on the bed.” Her graceful arms dangled from the ropes as she balanced precariously on the footstool; her quivering toes sent a shudder through her body and caused her luscious breasts to sway. If she slipped off the footstool she’d be swinging in mid-air.
 
He winked at her as he repositioned the ladder. “Reggie,” she pleaded, more desperate now as he set the rest of the swing in place, “I’ll suck your cock, Reggie, anything you want.” She frantically struggled to keep her balance.
 
“Oh, you’ll suck my cock alright and you’ll do anything I want,” he agreed jovially. “And by time we’re done…well, we both know how this goes.”Without warning he kicked the footstool away and her body fell in place and  her arms screamed in pain, sending blood spiraling up to her brain, every nerve ending screaming; she as a bird soaring out of the flames.
 
He worked fast, lifting her body and guiding her legs over the swing; he pushed her back until her torso was balanced over the canvas sling at the center. Catching her breath, she was panting, a captured bird, yet she watched him work with dread and awe.
 
He worked with a deliberate grace, his muscled arms moving with a fierce purpose, his black eyes glowing with sharp focus. He hoisted the rope on her arms, lifting her torso and forcing her to still herself, even in her panic, so she could stay balanced in the sling. He picked up a bamboo pole and she screamed again and almost thrashed herself out of the sling but he caught one of her legs and lashed an ankle to the pole. This stilled her and she murmured soft pleas as he tied the other ankle so she was spreadeagle and helpless.
 
He let her float in the air; her flight was horizontal now, as if levitating by some dark magic. She continued to murmur her desperation in soft panting moans.  And then she rose as he tugged on the ropes; she rose, a great raging bird charged at high voltage, fluorescent scarlet in her fury, a flare of her erotic aura urging him on. He kept hoisting her until her horizontal body was level with his chest.
 
In her writhing she was balanced over the sling, her torso soaring up, but her trussed-up legs struggling to stay aloft.  He watched her hectic flight, a cruel sneer mocking her as she writhed to keep balanced. Her head dipped down but he caught her hips in time and leveled her once more.
 
“Easy, little girl; you don’t want to fall before I finish with you.” He held her steady and watched her naked breasts heave up and down as she panted in panic. “I guess you’re having a little trouble girl.” He let go of her hips and tossed another rope over the bars above their heads and in a moment he attached the rope to the bamboo rod binding and spreading her legs.
 
He stepped behind her and loosened the pulley holding up her arms; Kelly trembled as she sank back. “Steady, little girl,” he growled while working the ropes like an expert sailor. Guiding her balance, he leaned her back in the sling. Her shapely limbs, trussed spreadeagle, were held horizontal to the floor; now, careful to keep her balanced in the air, he did the same to her arms. He lashed each of her wrists to ends of a bamboo pole which was hanging from the ceiling, then he rigged all the lines until she was balanced over the sling, her nubile body almost naked and her arms and legs spread open wide.
 
 
She floated steady and balanced now; while her breasts quivered with each breath she held her limbs rigid, alert in her fear. He stepped away once more and let her float aloft, her luscious body slim and lithe and smooth as a soaring bird.
 
She could hear him rummaging in the room, opening cabinets in the kitchenette area of the tiny cottage. “I’m looking forward to balling you but first we’re going to have a little snack.” His voice was jovial as he searched through some jars until he found what he wanted.
 
She heard him approach and then suddenly he appeared, slipping under the bamboo pole and popping up between her legs.
 
He stood, with her bare legs on either side of him, and even through the almost sheer panties the soft curls of her well trimmed bush revealed the moist arousal of her pussy. A few delicate curls peeked out from above the gossamer elastic of the panties. The slightest hint of a tan line made the smooth skin above her bush glow against the sunkissed flesh of her flat belly. Her navel was deep, perfectly formed and seemed to suggest the deliciousness of sex with this nubile nymph. Her waist was narrow and her ribcage rose up and down as she breathed frantically; all her luscious curves were displayed for his pleasure. Soaring up from her navel was a delightful cleft drawing his gaze up to her chest. This cleft was another soft line that, like her navel and her curves, promised delivery on the carnal enchantments of her well-toned body.
 
Her breasts, as she dangled backwards, spread in a sumptuous feast of luscious creamy dreamy flesh. Each mound quivered with each of her anxious breaths and the saucer sized areolae seemed to urge her nipples up to him.  Her shoulders were soft and smooth, but tense under the pressure of her wide-spread arms; her throat, elegant and graceful, bent forward and she stubbornly gazed up at him.  Her fury blazed over him.  Even in the paralysis of her rage she was caught in momentum; the tension required to keep herself balanced and horizontal on the swing kept her body taut and her nerves jittery. The sensual aura of her captive state, floating in the air while bound and almost nude, spiraled like a misty spell around both the playmate and her rapist.
 
He chuckled and nodded, approving of her feisty rage and her sensual vulnerability, and he laughed as she yelped in surprise when he held up a plastic jar in the shape of a bear. Kelly knew what it was before he spoke. He was already squeezing the honey in a lazy circle over her belly. The cleft above her navel created a rivulet of honey that, as she leaned forward oozed into her navel and then down towards her snatch; when she dropped her head back the rivulet of honey slid along the cleft towards her breasts. “I’m going to eat your pussy of course but I like my snatch with a little sweetener.” He laughed and then began to lick the honey off of her moist skin.
 
His tongue was sand-paper cruel, lapping over the soft silk of her flawless flesh; her belly shuddered in trepidation with each greedy lick which only made him chuckle more.

 

 

 
Slipping from between her legs he moved next to her shoulders and they watched together as he held the teddy bear dispenser high over her chest and began to squeeze out another thin stream of golden honey.
 
The viscous liquid dripped over one erect nipple then oozed down over the curves of her quavering breast.  “Doesn’t that look delicious?” he taunted and then bent in, giving the honey-milk flesh a gentle kiss before he began to lick up the sweetness.
 
She floated like a cloud but then he began to suck on her breasts, engulfing her nipples and gorging on her flesh; she disappeared into his voracious maw like a vaporous cloud engulfed by a vicious storm.
 
Kelly swayed in the ropes and sling and she arched her back, feeding her flesh into his sucking maw. She couldn’t help it; the tug of his mouth over her tender breasts drew up erotic yearnings from deep inside her. He held her in place and sucked harder, his mouth an insatiable beast; the flesh of her pliant luscious breasts quivered under the cruel attack of his lips, his teeth, his tongue.  Her neck bent forward, her chin pressed down, she watched in amazement as her flesh disappeared into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out almost comically but also callously as he devoured more and more of her, his jaw working more and more of her succulence deep into his greedy chops.
 
He took one last greedy pull, sucking one breast deep into his mouth as his fingers clawed cruelly into the flesh of the other.  He then raised his head and released her; she swayed on the ropes and her skin tingled with erotic exhilaration.
 
“I am going to enjoy balling you,” he snarled and before she could respond, his mouth was on hers, making her gasp in shock. He took advantage of the opening to slide his tongue deep down her throat. The kiss was rough and desperate, making it hard to catch her breath. She started kissing him back with just as much vigor. This kiss was doing all kinds of crazy things to her. Her nipples grew harder and started to ache and she felt warm tingling deep between her thighs.
 
And then he was gone again; she floated gently on the ropes, a bird on a breeze and she heard him rummaging in the kitchen area again. He returned with a knife and she gasped as the blade glistened in the light.  The steel, cold and hard, slid over her soft skin, the tip of the blade sliding silently under the silk of her panties; the harsh glint of steel against her skin froze her in dread. Silently he sawed away her panties; she whimpered softly in submission and fear as the gossamer fabric surrendered to the blade. then he pulled it away,  revealing the luscious moist lips of her pussy.
 
Her desperate panting filled the room like a soundtrack to a porno. She trembled and lost her balance; first her legs dropped down and she swung up and then the momentum tossed her back and her head dipped back, letting her hair sweep to the floor. His reflexes heightened like a predator with its victim, he quickly set her right and held her steady until her body tensed in delicate balance again.
 
He reached behind him and pulled over a wooden chair. He sat and gently worked the ropes so that her lovely torso lowered over him until he was sitting comfortable between her legs with her luscious snatch level with his greedy mouth.
 
The honey bear returned and she almost laughed at the sight after the shock of the knife but then honey began to drip onto her thighs. His head was between her legs and he gorged on her glory.
 
And now his mouth enjoyed those long and luscious legs. Young Kelly loved having her thighs, especially her inner
thighs, kissed, licked, rubbed, bitten, and more. He explored greedily and lustily enjoyed the experience of getting his eager young partner so close to the edge of pleasure. He ran his nails down her inner thighs sometimes; sometimes he teased with feather-like touches of his fingertips.
 
Having taken the time to warm up his plaything and her pleasure zones, he started honing in on the main event, at least as far as this eagerly delicious nymphet was concerned, cunnilingus! Placing gentle kisses on the mons as well as rubbing it with the palm of his hand he built up even more anticipation and incredible delight in the young girl.
 
Gently, he caressed her legs. He paused, almost reverently, for a moment. Yes, he wanted to dive in. Yes, he wanted to give this luscious nymphet as much pleasure as she could possibly handle. But he waited a moment. Took a long loving look at her sweetness, how beautiful and unique it was, and his gaze let her know that he found it hot and sexy.
 
He drizzled more honey over her, focusing on the dewy folds of the lips of her snatch; he started slowly, letting the sweet honey ooze through the curls of her bush and crystalizing into little gems glistening along side the dew of her arousal. His tongue teased over the the tops of the curls and mingled the honey gems with her sexy nectar. His lips and tongue, covered with this mixture, glided over the smooth warmth of her thighs. He licked over the soft fold where her thighs joined her hips then traced along the pale tan line to the top fringe of her bush and circled his tongue around the long the edges of this well-trimmed thatch. She moaned sweetly and wriggled delicately, trying to keep her balance on the swing while urging him to take more. His tongue spiraled around the bush then re-traced its journey across her hips and up and down her thighs. Warm and viscous, the honey spread over her pussy and oozed along the silken lips of her snatch and seeped down into her sex; her own arousal swirled into a pool of nectar, meeting the honey dripping into her.
 
He tilted his head and his lips, parallel to the lips of her snatch, pressed together and built pressure on the tempest eddying inside her. He worked magic with the pressure and drew groans from the girl and a loud moan of pleasure when the release came. The tip of his tongue wriggled over the hood of her clit; his tongue was a canny and greedy hunter, working this soft flesh until the beguiling nub of the sweetest, prettiest, tiniest, candy-hard clit was found and his mouth began its greedy assault on her succulence. His tongue flicked up and down, beating her clit into uncontrolled arousal. His hands teased the flesh right there but also would glide along her skin from her waist and down her thighs; every inch of her was luscious.
 
Her wrists, lashed to the pole, strained against the bonds; her fingers stretched out in yearning. Her voice let out soft moans and in a worshipful gush his name burst from her lips. “Reggie, Reggie, Reggie,” she prayed over and over as his tongue twirled into her snatch.
 
She imagined her own young and soft hands she urging his mouth down to her honeypot. She arced her back and he began to devour her flower, gulping her nectar and kissing and biting all the young flesh. The taste of her was intoxicating and his tongue worked her in a swirl of lust, the softness of her depths spilling into him as she sobbed with pleasure. Her breasts swelled and she struggled to breathe; her nipples were hard candy glowing and begging for licks. She twisted her head back and forth and her fingers and toes twisted and stretched in anguish. Her face, youthful and eager, beamed with pleasure, unleashing the barely contained joy of her body as he ravishes her honey pot with his mouth. Unable to bear the onslaught of ecstasy her entire body twisted and writhed as she glared at him; her eyes blazed with wanton lust.
 
She came in gushes of nectar as gusts of ecstasy roared through her dangling body. The momentum of the swing magnified every nod of his head and every thrust and probe of his greedy tongue. The rope suspending her quivered as if they were the lines of a clipper ship struggling in a typhoon. As her orgasm amplified with each panting breath in the beautiful girl the momentum of the swing grew more precarious and arousing.  In one final scream she climaxed, twisting and wriggling until the ropes no longer mattered; orgasmic momentum kept her in flight. Her ecstasy dissolved the boundary between gravity and desire.
 
His tongue fucked her with an intensity that made it impossible for her to know that his cock was raging and ready and in one fluid motion he rose off the chair, his mouth licked up her belly, then her breasts and then her mouth. In the momentum of his rising from his chair his cock rose like a missile aimed at her pussy; her mouth opened wide in shock and his cock rammed into her warm wet snatch.
 

 

 
 
In the midst of her orgasm she couldn’t know that it was merely the short fierce fuse of the bliss that was coming now with his cock buried mercilessly inside her, drilling into her as blood banged inside her brain. It filled her with a piercing shriek like a storm warning, first the stirring that brought a peculiar thrill as she a froze in concentration, then the emergence of the outline, the mass and color and clean final form of it, the unique living reality of mammoth cock filling her.
 
The massive length and girth, the sheer volume and weight of the cock was a force of nature with its own momentum as it rammed into her. The whoosh of its assault sent her body upward, to the limits of the ropes and then gravity responded by plunging her soft nubile body onto the entire shaft. His hips thrust up and they fucked in mid-air; the momentum of their frenzied balling shot through with gravity’s vigor. They balled like super-heroes and an element of zap, kerpow and kaboom played through their chaotic thrusting, thrashing, and rocking.
 
Storms brewed in her brain, black stars and a great white one, flickering at their pitches like deadly birds of prey. The momentum of their balling taunted the agonizingly perfect climax forming in her depths, a dark force falling and rising, the whish, the grand swoop like a plunge from two thousand feet heard half a mile away, red swirls of passion destroying the laws of physics. From the outset, there was an electricity between them, a barbed coil of passion radioactive and transmogrifying.


Voracious, violent and beautiful, they weren’t merely birds of prey, they were juggernauts of lust and ecstasy embracing the spirit of every savage beast of nature. A scream in the shape of a panther, a scream in the likeness of a girl, as the cry went up the wild captive quaked, like a deer in the dale, quivering with dread. Her cries were halted by his howls and whoops. His cockhead flashed and flickered, glistening with a coating of her dew; it pressed in again, biting through her innocence with its broad head. She bleated like a lamb as she bled out her ecstasy, her nectar flooding like the blood of the sacrificial lamb and she died with each thrust, and always the cock was hard inside her, hammering deep inside and she let loose with stone-splitting cries, as if cliffs had collapsed. Her captor’s cruel heart leapt with life. Now deep inside, now pulling back only to ram in again, endlessly he hacked and drove. And bliss came in due course. Like a ravenous wolf soon he picked up the scent of her agonizing ecstasy and he was urged ahead by her wild-voiced pleas and her wailing words. His cock responded with vigor and pace, alert to torture; forty lurches at least, thrust in rapid succession. Then such a raucous din rose up all around them it ricocheted and rang through the room; she barely knew herself that she was screaming. He was a beast riled with rowdy fury, and suddenly he broke the record, —the biggest of loads had bolted from his cock, savage and strong; he came, a most massive swine with a fearsome grunt. His body jerked and trembled as he emptied himself deep inside Kelly’s body.
 
And still he drove in; her resistance was thrown down by the first of his thrusts unleashing the load, then he flooded away fast as his white fire burst into her depths. She bawled and moaned and he blasted inside her and thrust in again and again, his aim to maul and maim the thrashing girl as she yelped and yowled in sweet agony. He came over and over and they broke out of themselves and into each other.
 
Everything was ruled by momentum. At first, in a rapid and frenzied fury, he had fucked into the dangling girl. Even after multiple orgasms he continued to thrust into her but like a mighty pendulum the swinging began to slow, even as the orgasms deepened and grew. Slowly their pitching and thrusting ebbed into a steady rocking. And while they balled silently, a great warmth rose out of the depths and spread over them, and as they moaned, another wave shook them them into more dreamy bliss.
 
When Kelly and her rapist went down to a watery misty death at the very close of their climax, the diminuendo of her moaning enacted her drowning; and there was a third wave in the gravity-defying momentum of their bliss, and nothing more.
 
 
 

 


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