“Well, if my Queen insists…”
He slides that crown into me. Inch by inch by inch until the head pops through my anus. I scream and scream from thepressure. Pressure I’m convinced can rival the precursor to a volcanic eruption!
Chapter 22
We release together and become the spirit of Christmas itself
TWYLA
“Deep breaths, Twyla. Bli min. Gods-damn, you’re so fucking tight!”
I squeeze my buttocks around him, tensing up until he extends his tongue, lowering it to play with my clit. His fingers lower to my pussy to stroke the folds.
“So wet. Such a sloppy, filthy cunt,” he says without coming out, hovering in this limbo moment while my legs shake uncontrollably. “Your ass feels so fucking good, Twyla! Like being crushed into hot heaven, surrounding all of me, pressing in, strangling my cock, woman!”
The sheer, primal grunts and deep groans, of his masculine hunger evidence in his labored breath, throbbing veins, and predatory growls, is enough to send me over the edge. Especially with him stroking me. I fall over the edge, exploding and spurting cream from my slit. At that moment, he slides inanother inch. Another ridge disappears inside my anus while my release rips through my bloodstream.
I love how he keeps rubbing me, stimulating me through it all, giving me time to adjust to his sheer massiveness. And relaxing me more through every orgasm. It’s the perfect balance between pressure and pleasure. The more he slides inside me, the more I feel like every nerve ending in my system is being touched. Not just touched but fondled fucked with and twisted and tugged in a thousand erotic ways.
Slowly, he begins to rock into me, deeper, stronger but so wet and slippery from all our natural lube. It transforms into this sense of euphoria.
“Mmm,” I murmur, tilting my head back as Krampus swirls his tongue along my engorged nub, flicking it, tasting me. His fingers don’t stop stroking my folds.
Something about how he’s positioned me with facing him…it’s another layer of vulnerability.
Krampus rolls in and out, flaring his nostrils, and it’s a whole other high to know how much this does for him. “Look down at us, Twyla. Look down.”
I do. And part my lips in wonder as that monstrous beast of a cock rocks in and out of me. He moves all the way back, nearly to the tip before shoving it deep into me, rearranging my internal organs—literally! Any voices, any darkness from my past are smothered beneath the weight of that huge organ fucking my ass.
“You’re going to send me to my death, Twyla,” says Krampus, working in and out of me, stoking my blood. Another aftershock of an orgasm convulses my pussy, he doesn’t stop touching me, moving into me. “Take it, filthy girl. Take my fat, fucking cock.”
I’m taking it! He’s stretching me, filling me, every part of me. He’s in my blood. In my bones. In my very cell matter. He’s in my soul. But not just inside. Our souls combine, blending tobecome one with each part marrying one another. Each painful stretch and thrusting pressure is intoxicating.
Little orgasms spasm through my pussy, sending ripples of seismic activity into my body. Small waves of heated pleasure roll through me, washing over me with the sense of smoldering liquid engulfing my face and traveling up my spine. Time ceases to exist. Ecstasy drowns every one of my senses until I’m rolling my hips, moving with him.
“Oh, fuck, sweet girl! You’re so gods-damned beautiful, taking my cock like such a good girl. Slem pike. Slem pike. Slem pike,” he repeats and fondles my breast, pinching each of my nipples. “I’ve been fucking your ass like your husband. Now, I’m going to fuck my Queen like the monster King I am.”
My brows lift. Adrenaline pulses through me, surging a thrill up my spine. Suddenly, he grips my hips, pulling out all the way to the tip. I gasp but close my eyes, softening all my muscles to receive him.
With one ferocious growl, Krampus shoves his length deep into my ass, buried to the hilt. I explode! The orgasm comes at me like holiday winter trains from all directions, crashing and crashing. I roll with him, rock with him through the rapture.
“That’s it. Fuck it like a dirty girl, like my filthy little girl. Take my cock!” Savage growls, primal and animalistic, escape his throat.
“Krampus!”
He moves faster, harder, slamming into me with that demon dick, that raging beast escaped from its cage and off its leash, seeking its release in the deepest and darkest and most depraved place inside me. I tremble, shuddering, on the verge of what I guess will be the most powerful orgasm ever. He takes me higher with every thrust. My cries and sobs of pleasure are foreign.
“Love those sexy sounds, fuck, yeah, give me more, Twyla,” he demands. “My horny, dirty girl, my fucking gorgeous slut of aQueen!” He digs his claws into my hips, plowing deeper but too smooth.
“Harder!” I scream and throw my head back—so close, so close, closer…
…until Krampus grips the candy cane rod and pumps it into my very cunt, fucking me with it, stuffing me from end to end.
The volcano erupts.
And we both come.
He roars, slamming into me. I scream, shattering beneath him. He pushes so deep into me, releasing hot ropes of cum while I grip his fur with all my might, convulsing around that rod and his cock. One is not enough. He twists and pumps that rod, fucking me with it and sending me soaring into the longest and greatest orgasm known to all womankind. Enough to send me soaring so high, it feels like I’ve reached the seventh level of heaven. Like I’ve rocketed into smithereens, transcending into magic itself.
