Tharros Cave Orgy 41

Studs and Sluts,

Hope you're good. More fucking, happy stroking.

First of 3 submissions, plus the AI this month (Tharros themed).

XXX

‘Fucking stupid whore…’

He slapped her with his free hand and pushed her up, then, grabbing her shoulders, spun her around. Impaled on his absolutely massive beastcock, Cassandra barely had time to register what was happening before their connected groins twined and swivelled slickly against each other, lube, precum and pussy juices making the movement almost graceful, and before she knew it, Cassandra was facing the ceiling, tits thrust up, and only then did Spillsby release her arms so that she could prop herself up on his meaty, boulder-like shoulders, now riding him reverse cowgirl. 

From then it became a completely different story. It was as if the power and the savage dominance that she had been taking out on Spillsby was being taken out on her. And it was a brutal act of vengeance that bettered the instruction.

Cassandra realised – far too late to do anything about it – that the amount of milk that she had allowed Spillsby to slurp from her had been rejuvenating, and the monstercocked stableboy had perhaps just been biding his time to make his move.

This was evident from how he was now addressing her.

‘You like getting fucked? Huh? You like GETTING FUCKED? Fucking TAKE THIS WHORE! TAKE MY FUCKING COCK YOU FUCKING FILTHY SLUT! THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR THINKING YOU CAN TAKE ME!!!!’

‘WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING SHOW ME YOU BIG DICKED FREAAAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKK!!!!!’

Spillsby reached his hands around to maul Cassandra’s absolutely immense, heaving, golden-tanned sweat-slicked knockers, trying to encompass the basketball-seized melons as she flung her body up and down and they bounced on her chest. Her ripped abs were absolutely flaring and flexing in a carnival of rippling musculature, sinews straining as the broad rows of her pronounced eight-pack abs were ploughed upwards from underneath by the young stud’s gargantuan hog that slammed relentlessly, full-length into her frothing, steaming, elastic pussy. Spillsby was hitting her with everything he had, and his butt was bouncing hard off the firm floor as he railed the amazonian sex-goddess from beneath, balls bouncing crazily between his thighs.

Spillsby moved one hand down from her hulking tits and slid it all the way down her solid midriff until her found her cunt, starting to play with her erect clit, strumming the little bud rapidly and riffling it with all the fingers of his hand. This made the buxom warrioress squirt messily, and he felt his balls and thighs get drenched with an explosion of her juices as her pussy gushed.

She turned her head to him on the side and drooled a rope of saliva into his accepting mouth.

‘So… fucking… good…’ she murmured, almost submissively.

‘What was that, whore?’ Spillsby demanded, through frantic, two-foot long strokes.

‘I said MAKE ME YOUR SLUT!!!!!!’

The power struggle between Cassandra and Spillsby had everyone riveted. No-one had expected the stableboy to be able to turn the tables on the busty amazon slut and match her aggression and carnal excess in fucking. They had assumed he was done for.

Tamara and Pontus were watching from the pool where the slower, more sensual, but almost equally powerful clinch was taking place as the massive-titted brunette whore was standing waist deep in the pool in front of the man-mountain, perched on his vast hog that was gently kicking up between her legs, paddling up and down between her thigh gap and patting against her pussy in the fluid. Pontus was sliding his hands over her monster orbs and slathering the immense globes in the fluid, running his hands over the enormous curves of her chest and then slipping them down to clench them around her taut abs.

In front of them, Damon was perched on the lip of the pool with his legs dangling in as Faye was hunkered in front of him. His absolutely prime-grade more than two foot of slick, vascular beastcock was sticking up in the air, supported either side by the teen sex-priestess’s immense, bulging gazongas, and she was very slowly and deliberately heaving the vast tool between her cleavage, the ribbed surface of the flesh torpedo sending thrills through her as it grated against her smooth, slick skin.

Faye had her face cocked to the side so that the humongous, precum-weeping bell-end of the monster cock didn’t get in the way of her observing the final stages of the competition, and Damon was torn between watching the teen bimbo fuckdoll’s unbelievable titjob as her monster globes encompassed the trunk of his staff, and peering over his shoulder to see who was coming out on top.

Lorel, for her part, and typical of her nature, wasn’t keen on not being the centre of attention. She sought to reclaim it, and the only way to do that was to make the spectacle of her total domination of Faslane more compelling than Spillsby and Cassandra’s contest. 

‘FFUUUUUUUKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!’

Spillsby relentless powerfucking of her slippery, overstuffed, over-stretched and pulverisingly ploughed clam, coupled with the stablehand’s energetic and nimble manipulation of her clit finally pushed Cassandra over the edge, even fighting it as she was. Her legs gave way from where they had been braced on top of his broad thighs, supporting her, and it pushed her even deeper onto the monolithic horsecock that impaled her, her slippery, sloppily juicing quim swallowing up the whole length inside of her. She immediately came, the violent orgasm taking hold of her and turning her powerfully muscled amazonian body into slick mound of quivering jelly.

The explosion of girlcum that spurted from her convulsing, packed slot blasted out of her in a thick, long, messy wave that spewed in a jet upwards from her cooch and landed with a dense, hard, wet SMACK against the wall ten feet in front of her, the impact ten feet high from the floor to its uppermost spurt.

That was the first eruption, a huge wall of slick ejaculate that just splattered the wall in a curtain of her girl juice. After that, her cunt just pumped squirt after squirt after squirt of thick, heavy sprays that flooded rhythmically out of her like a faucet on a well. It was jetting out of her hysterically trembling body. 

Cassandra was screaming out, no words, just an explosion of pleasure, full-force, raw-throated, eyes clenched tight shut, and Spillsby was still hammering into her sploshing cunt with long, rampant, upward-surging thrusts, balls getting drenched in the fluid pulsing out of her loins.

The bliss Cassandra was experiencing was total, and the self-support she had with her arms locked against Spillsby’s shoulders collapsed and her muscular, lithe, ripped, slick body collapsed on top of him, skin to skin. She was almost on the verge of passing out, and Spillsby reacted by flinging his arms around her ripped abdomen, just below her jutting-up knockers, round spheres bouncing heavenwards, and clasped both arms around her waist as tightly as he could crushing her tightly into him, encompassing her in a rigid clinch.

Her head was lolling back and the shaven side of her head was pressing against his face. As soon as she had finished screaming, he could perceive the stacked amazonian warrioress’s drool coursing out of her rubbery, ecstatically opened lips, rolling over the side of her cheek and onto his mouth. It was an electric turn on for the stableboy, who was suddenly seized with an orgasmic surge of orgone at the thought of having powerfucked the awesomely jacked hardbody templar into this transport of delirium.

Nearby, Faslane’s full-body paroxysms and spasms were now utterly relentless and all motor control had clearly deserted him. His legs and arms were starfished on the floor as the gorgeous mega-boobed hyperslut continually turned up the pace of her manic riding of the beastcocked stud. As his level of composure if not consciousness completely deserted him, his sucking lips had detached from the tiny, neat nipple that tipped Lorel’s obscenely massive, hulking basketball sized boob that she had shoved in his mouth. His mouth was now flapping open, totally ungoverned, and occasionally his teeth would clack together as his head was flung back, eyes completely vacant. Sometimes he gibbered. His whole body was at full capacity, every muscle torqued, great ridges and bulges on his chest and arms straining with thick cable-veins sticking out all over them. There was now a reddish flush to his sweat-soaked, gleaming skin, and he was convulsing underneath Lorel’s lithe, flexible, taut gyrating body like the victim of a permanent electric shock.

First Tamara, now this. The sluts were simply too much for him to take.

‘Time to break you.’ Lorel said.

Even though the rigid prick that impaled her completely was thrust so far up into her, Lorel smiled almost sweetly as she transitioned from the groin-to-groin humping where her slick cooch was fastened to Faslane’s hypertrophic pelvis to raising her glorious butt upwards, sliding her cooch around a foot up the glistening fuckpole before powering down again and slamming into Faslane.  

The powerslams that she was delivering were driving Faslane’s body into the floor, and it was the floor that way giving underneath him. Every downward thrust of her luscious, stacked, sleekly muscled frame was hammering the totally dominated stud into the firm padding underfoot and further still, Faslane’s hips and glutes being visibly compressed into the material and the harder texture of the floor beneath.

He had stopped cumming now, deprived of Lorel’s energising milk, and the busty slut was joyously declaring her triumph by whoreishly displaying her body for the assemblage of studs and sluts, hefting her gargantuan, round, slick, firm spherical melons in her hands, cupping them lasciviously from underneath and jiggling them up and down, tongue extended from her mouth.

‘Loli wants to cummmmmmmm Faslane, Loli wants to CUUUUMMMMMMM!!!’

Spillsby made the fatal mistake of craning his eyes over to see what Lorel was doing, and caught her utterly whoreish exhibitionism full-bore, treated to her insane flexing of her rigid rack of sculptured abs bulging in their thick lines, deep striation etched into them in contrast with the blonde slut’s juggling of her immense, round, tautly-stretched balloon-hooters along with the pneumatic pumping of her delicious bubble glutes. Writhing on Faslane, tongue hanging out, Spillsby had fought Cassandra with everything he had, but a wicked glance from Lorel in full flow pushed him over the edge.

The reaction was instant, and Spillsby’s balls suddenly boiled, his compression of Cassandra’s body became even more concentrated and powerful as his forearms clamped around her waist, meeting the unyielding resistance of her marble-hard stomach musculature in opposition. His undercarriage tented out, tissues blossoming outwards, bloating, and then suddenly compressed inwards quickly, and a thick, hot, heavy surge of cum shot out of his dick into her tight, overfull pussy, even as it kept squirting.

As he spunked a colossal, thick welter of jizz into Cassandra’s tight, wet snatch from underneath, he unleashed an ecstatic, wordless cry in tandem with the gorgeous slut, and he felt Cassandra’s hands coil behind his head and clasp him as he erupted inside of her.

‘FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKK!!!!’

Al that Spillsby could do was grab Cassandra’s body and hammer into her pussy as his turgid, utterly engorged dick spasmed insanely, the thick, bloated tube flexing and convulsing inside the slick, silken sheath of the templar’s cunt. Gush after gush flooded her as they cummed messily and explosively together, but there were so many incredibly hefty and sticky servings of balljuice that were pumped inside the glorious stacked fuckdoll that Spillsby lost count after fifty-seven beams of the stuff were blasted into the slut.

By the time that Spillsby’s spunk-count was even halfway through, Faslane had become part of the floor.

His huge body was no longer offering any resistance to Lorel, who was humping him remorselessly, riding him past his capacity for exertion. He was gone. There was a clanging, thumping sound as her bombshell booty slammed into his groin from above, long strokes powering him into the floor, clouds of dust and debris flung up from where the shattered elements of its construction were being smashed apart, and Lorel continued to increase the pressure on him by clamping her locked arms down on his shoulders and pinning him down as her hotly-twerking booty overwhelmed his stamina, as much to keep him still as anything. His body was just a heap of palpitating and sweat-soaked muscle that jerked and twitched as the stacked teen fuckdoll fucked him past his capacity to take it. The only thing still functioning was his bloated cock that she was impaled on.

That included his brain, and his consciousness was just swimming adrift, as the blood that should have been circulating in his body was pumped more and more into his engorged, immensely turgid member. Faslane could only gag and gasped as the divine, monster-jugged fuckdoll sex-priestess fucked him, body being crumpled into the floor hump after hump, no resistance possible.

‘Fuck you, Faslane… I’m done with you now.’

Saying that, Lorel shifted her legs so that she was no longer kneeling either side of him, but settled instead into a couch, soles of her feet planted firmly on the floor. Then, with an unbelievable display of core strength, Lorel locked her steel-hard abs together, the rigid rows of ridged muscles flexing and locking, and, using her sleek, strong quads, started to raise herself up.

Dareios was transfixed by the spectacle, and watched, staggered, even as he hurled his fuck pipe into the blonde head-priestess Galiana, as Lorel began her ascent. He had expected more of Faslane’s monstrous, inflated phallus to be disclosed as the blonde vixen hardbody raised her body up off it, so the first thing that was surprising was the way that Faslane’s huge groin seemed stuck fast to Lorel’s snatch, hilted inside it still. The floor around Faslane shifted and groaned as Lorel’s grip on the monster-cocksmith’s tool started to raise him out of the rubble she had pounded him into.

There was no teeth set-expression of exertion on Lorel’s face to accompany her movement, but instead a set look on her face of total assurance and satisfaction at her utter dominance over Faslane. Lorel’s slippery pussy gripped onto Faslane’s dick with vice-like torque as she commenced a quad-bulging squat that lifted up Faslane’s body with it, sinews popping in her toned legs and abs as the colossus was extracted from where he had been compressed into the floor by his dick.

‘Fucking hell!!!!!’ Galiana exclaimed, half from her slick, sopping cunt getting an absolute hammering from Dareios’s engorged fuckpipe, the other from seeing the eye-popping display of Lorel squatting up.

Incredibly, everyone stared in disbelief as the teenage blonde tattooed fuckdoll used her clasping cunt cranelike to pull up Faslane from the floor. After she had brought it up a foot, there was a clear gap between the huge man’s butt and the floor, and Lorel kept going, raising him up further and further and modifying her stance until she was almost fully standing and the incapacitated Faslane was hoisted up above the floor underneath her, her legs not quite locked.  

The strength of Lorel’s pussy seemed impossible. Faslane was over six and a half feet of pure muscle easily, totally dead weight, and the intensity of control over her vaginal walls was picking him up like a mother cat taking a kitten by the neck.

He was suspended in the air, limbs lolling.

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGHGHHHHGHGHHH!’

Half smiling in dominance, half wincing at the explosion of sensation that she allowed to flood through her, Lorel gave a final, comprehensive, crushing squeeze of her pussy.

That was it. 

Underneath her, Faslane’s juddering body was shaken by a series of insane contortions and reverberations that were like he was experiencing an earthquake. His limbs were floppy and dangling in the air and his head was ragdolled back.

Normally Lorel could count the pulses of spunk that were blasted inside her and able to feel each throb and contraction of whatever behemoth was exploding inside her. Here there was no throb. There was simply one huge bloating of the thing inside of her and then endless, total hot gooey cream everywhere inside her. She was waiting for the next pulse, but there was no pulse. Faslane’s tortured cock’s final release was one single spunk detontation, the cock ballooning and exploding continually inside of her. It would have been a pissing beam of semen that started and simply didn’t end. In seconds, thick, heavy, cloying creamy gouts of cum were flooding out of her quim and sliding everywhere around the root of Faslane’s cock before dribbling and splattering in lines and ropes onto the floor underneath him, pooling in the dent he had made in the floor.

The one burst seemed to go on for ever, and it must have been more than two or three minutes.

They were moments of total, absolute victory and dominance. Faslane, was broken, insensible, incapable of thought, movement, his whole being compressed into the total surrender of his dick to her sexual capacity. 

As Lorel looked down, she could finally see Faslane’s head come up, and was surprised to note that a modicum of sensibility was animating his expression as they made eye contact. They connected. His eyes were wide, and she thought she could sense that he was pleading her, expression one of almost horrified dismay.

That made her cum.

There was just enough time for her to smile at him and wink at him, then she felt his dick shift inside her with the first orgasmic convulsion, the bloated thing spasming, and she saw his eyes cross ridiculously and his tongue protrude from his mouth, and he was gone again. The rush took her, and her pussy convulsed and her own massive spray of gelatinous secretions hosed from her cunt. She braced her quivering legs and clenched her cunt around the meat stick even harder to not lose grip on the cum-pumping organ that now spasmed inside her.

As she came around his cock, Faslane’s mouth was foaming and his throat was burbling gooning sounds.

The orgasmic convulsions that coursed through Faslane shook his body like a straw-stuffed toy, arms and legs limp and then electrified as Lorel squeezed his dick with her pussy. She smiled as he cummed and the orgasm tore through him, the pulses spasming his body forty, fifty, sixty, seventy, up and up and up until it was in the hundreds of times.

At around the hundredth rictus that Faslane was subjected to Lorel noticed that he had managed to lever both his arms up, and he had curled his hands into fists and was beating both relentlessly against his own barrel-chest, a deep, resonant boom sounding throughout the room, and she realised that he was trying to keep his heart going, to massage the juddering organ back into normal functioning as it sputtered. His eyes came back into focus but stared manically and his teeth clamped onto his tongue as he applied the manoeuvre, and the whole display was almost comic even as Faslane became his own life-support system to sustain himself through the orgasm. 

Still she kept him clenched.