Einar's Diary – Episode 3-1 (All-Patrons)

Words Count: 5101

A/N: Been a while since I last wrote a full sex scene. Took so long, dammit.

Afterwards, our days become relatively peaceful. The townsfolks are non-the-wiser about the existence of an Original, a term coined by the Witches after Vampirism was created by Esther, walking amongst them, primarily because I haven’t taken a single step outside the Forbes Manor. I’d not say I’m… Antisocial, but I don’t crave human interactions in the way most do. Odd, since I used to enjoy getting hammered with the boys as a Viking.

In all fairness, I have two beautiful women to accompany me, plus a plethora of interesting books to read when I need to waste time, and Magic to experiment with, so boredom is never an issue. As for grocery, the women take turn. I haven’t offered to help with that, since I do not want my presence questioned.

Mystic Falls is a tiny-ass town located at the border of Civilization, after all.

New faces tend to stand out, and if I were discovered, gossips will undoubtedly circulate.

Questions of my Origin asides, even Margaret’s future prospects will be affected, hence I avoid people entirely, preferring to hunt the wildlife every once in a while to contribute to the household.

About one week after my awakening, Ms. Forbes asks Alaya to move into the Forbes Manor, and the Bennett, having grown tired of the cramped and rats-ridden space she was barely able to procure with the meager amount of money she made, agreed without hesitation. I refrain from commenting on their decisions, though I must say I approve.

Both women don’t have a lot of friends- Alaya for her race and perceived inferiority; Margaret for the simple fact most seem to be terrified of the ‘Curse’ plaguing her family, and those who aren’t are either married with a loving family or are dead and buried, neither makes for… Good conversationalist, understandably… Not only is this convenient for all of us, it also gives these two someone they can rely on when I am busy in my Workshop, or finally decide to depart.

The depressing thoughts pull me down the bottom of the porcelain bathtub.

Cleaning Spells are fine- useful even, but every once in a while, I find it nice to just submerge in warm water, very de-stressing in fact.

I’d be lying if I were to say I haven’t grown the slightest bit attached to both of them. Alaya is the bratty little sister I never had… Or had, but was never able to on a deeper level thanks to our bitchy birth mother, and Margaret… She is my– “Host.” That’s all she can ever be allowed to be, I remind myself. The previous attraction, the burning of our loins every time we’re in the presence of one another has subsided.

It should have been a good thing, it would have, if not for the butterflies swarming in my stomach every time a smile graces her pink lips. To make it worse, she has offered to be my living blood bag. I have honestly lost count of all the times we find ourselves lost in each other’s eyes; or nearly kissing only for one of us to realize what we were doing and push the other away.

It doesn’t help that parts of me, the greediest parts I refuse to acknowledge, send me images of me, Tatia and Margaret, living happily ever after- sailing into the Sunset. It won’t work… It can’t, yet I can’t deny it isn’t tempting to at least try. I am a Vampire- the Original Heretic, as the Witches have come to call me- a member of a species known for their promiscuity… ‘If I do it right–’

A resounding slap echoes as my palm collides with my face. “What the Hell are you thinking, Einar…? When did you become such a fucking scumbag?” I berate myself, before reaching for the towel to tie around my waist.

A mutter of a Spell, and the droplets dripping down my form dissipate. I rarely take baths, and only do so when nobody’s home, since as much as I try to ignore it, there is a level of… Awkwardness I simply can’t shrug, bathing in someone else’s house. How other people do it, and do it without any worry whatsoever, I have not the slightest clue, but it is not my place to judge.

Personally, I’m rather envious of their carefreeness. Even two decades as a Viking, and nearly nine centuries of sufferings can’t completely shake away my modern sensibility, sad as it is to admit. Covering myself up, I walk outside, undecided on my outfit of the day as I tread through the hall, only to stumble upon a shocked Bennett and a blushing Forbes. “Well, this is… Awkward. You two are early.”

I drawls. unblinkingly

“The foods we bought should last us one more day, so we only needed to get spices.”

Alaya’s eyes, like a viper, slides up and down my body. “So, eight pack, huh? I thought those don’t really exist? Plus, nice bulge, grandpa.”

“Firstly, at least act embarrassed, Bennett.” I chide, hand reaching to pinch the bridge of my nose out of habit. “Secondly, that latter half was unnecessary and gross.”

Just then, a wind decides to blow into the open widow, but luckily, I’m able to hold onto my sole coverage, blitzing into my room.

What a freak wind… What is this?

An Ecchi anime with a wimp protagonist? Probably not me, then. If I hadn’t met Tatia first, I would have accepted Margaret’s advances ages ago, no need for 200 chapters of pure nonsense, only to get an inconsequential hand-holding scene. The uppity look my Heaven’s Quintessence gets as he shakes, watching me laugh to myself is rather upsetting, but I don’t deign it with a comment, since his reaction is kind of warranted.

Let’s face it, if I saw another person giggling to himself, I’d probably judge the guy too.

Hastily, I throw on the clothes lent to me by Margaret, before making a beeline for the dinning room. Yes, once again I’m reminded of the ‘evils’ of capitalism.

A dining room’s a damn luxury for me in both lives, yet the Forbes Manor has two- one for the masters, and another located in the servant quarter.

Absolutely absurd, I tell you.

“Oh, you’re dressed!”

Alaya gasps seeing me, making a face as if it’s a rarity to see me clothed. “Let it go, Bennett.”

“Never!”

The Witch hisses triumphantly.

“… Shouldn’t you be helping Margaret with dinner?”

Alaya gives me a smug look.

“Shouldn’t you be feeding on some poor folks instead of gorging yourself on mortal foods?”

I glare at her, but unlike the first few times, my glare no longer sends her scurrying along as she ought to. It seems I’ve been far too lenient on her recently.

“Alaya…”

“Yes?”

I reveal an evil smile that just doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “How’s your progress with the mathematical equations I gave you earlier?” Finally, a tinge of fear creeps into her features. I don’t want to say it, but I rather enjoy how the cocky demeanor slides off her features as she shudders.

The majority of the Wiccan Covens use Mysticism which has more to do with the symbolisms associated with different word, Rune and ingredient, even Ayana herself does this regularly, but early on I’ve learnt I’m not very talented with this Branch of Magic…

Instead my focus pours into the more scientific approach. Numbers and equations just help me make sense of the ethereal energy and its various applications, which is also the Branch I decide to teach Alaya, who apparently doesn’t appreciate the fine-tuning and sheer precision required whatsoever. “Urgh… Why do we have to learn math? Why can’t you just do Magic like normal people?!”

She pouts, grabbing the fork on her side of the table and stabbing it viciously into the wooden surface. “Behave, Bennett. Our host graciously allowed us to stay in her Manor, you don’t want to her to regret her decisions, do you?” Alaya’s cheeks grow even larger as she plays with the utensils.

“I’m expecting an application [Strengthening] later. Considering it has been a week, it would greatly disappoint me if you were unable to do so.”

Avoiding eye contact, the Witch nervously toys with her utensils.

“In the event of your failure, you will have to complete twenty-five laps around the Manor.” I calmly state.

“But…” She starts to object, only to be cut off by my apathetic tone. “Make it thirty.”

“Einar--!”

“Thirty-five,” I declare, my gaze fixed on the young Witch. “Keep this up, and you might even surpass my personal record of sixty-five.”

The Witch’s features light up with genuine astonishment, “Only sixty-five?” Then retorts, her voice laced with a hint of taunt.

“my personal record as a human was sixty-five laps around our entire village, without any aid from Magic. If you think such punishment is… Inadequate, I suppose I can raise it to seventy laps around Mystic Falls.”

Never before have I seen the colors drained from somebody’s face so quickly, as the young Witch hurriedly shakes her head. “NO! Thirty-five laps are enough! I’ll die if you make me do more! I’ll really die!”

I tease. “Thirty-five laps around Mystic Falls?”

“Around the Manor!” She clarifies, face still pale just as Margaret exits the kitchen, giving us each a wry smile. “Are you bullying Alaya again, Einar?”

“I don’t particularly like the term ‘bully,’ Ms. Forbes,” I remark coolly, my voice dripping with condescension. “I prefer… Discipline. Besides, it’s all for her own good. A strong and healthy body is just as important as a sharp and well-preserved mind. And, who knows, one day she might find her life saved because of my training regimen?”

The Bennett Witch does not look at all convinced, but wisely, she chooses to keep her thoughts to herself, probably fearing that her punishment might be further increased if she tried to play smart. With a self-satisfied smirk, I gesture towards Alaya. “See?” I taunt, my tone smug. “She’s learning already.” We laugh, not the Bennett Witch though, being the butt of the joke and all that.

It doesn’t take us long to set up the table, not with my Super-Speed at play.

Margaret’s not a phenomenal cook by any stretch of the imagination.

As a former ordinary citizen in the 21st century, Alaya’s cooking skills don’t even come close to comparing.

Though I must admit, it’s a significant improvement from the tasteless jerky we had during the Winter months. Better than Ayana’s too, due to the woman’s trademark bitter flavor, as a result of her tendency to throw in handfuls of herbal ingredients for the sake of our health. While it did benefit us, it made her meals quite a chore to swallow. But don’t you dare mention that to her. She would most definitely have my hide, and I have no doubt she will find a way to do so even in the Other Side.

“I’m planning to go on a trip next month…”

I continue, nonchalantly shoveling mashed potatoes into my mouth as Forbes drops her fork in utter shock. With wide, startled eyes, a deep sense of fear emanates from the depths of her mesmerizing blue pearls.

Alaya, her mouth agape and food spilling, mirrors Forbes’ confusion at my unexpected declaration. “What?! Why?!” The Witch blurts out, clearly upset, although not nearly as much as Margaret, who remains silent- sullen. “I’m… I can’t stay here forever. I have a debt to collect and someone to resurrect.”

“Is it the Doppelganger?”

Alaya scoffs, her every word practically radiating disdain as she clicks her tongue. “Tsk. What’s with you men and your obsession with the Petrova Bloodline? Margaret’s clearly the better woman. She’s just another slu–”

I slap the table, rattling the furniture as fangs and darkened, protruding veins appear on my face.

“Watch. Your. Tongue, Alaya! I may be oath-bound to protect you, but that does not mean I’ll tolerate your disrespect.” She shrinks her seat, nervously chewing on her lips. The Witch, avoiding direct eye contact, seems afraid to meet my gaze as her eyes remain fixated on her knees.

“I’m finished eating.” I murmurs, my voice barely audible as I silently place my utensils down, my vampiric features fading away as I offer a nod of gratitude to our hostess. “Thank you for the meal, Ms. Forbes. It was delightful.”

Without uttering another word, I stride purposefully towards the exit, my footsteps echoing in the silence. “Take the night off. I’ll head out for fresh air.” This time, my words are not directed at Forbes, but rather towards the young Witch, who flinches in response to the sharpness of my tone. My decision to depart stems from three reasons–

First, although our hostess is magnanimous and the Forbes has… built up a substantial amount of wealth as one of the Founders, but living off of her forever is not feasible. My pride won’t allow it.

Secondly, the mere thought of the Mikaelsons out there somewhere, living their best unlives causes a surge of righteous anger to run up and down my spine.

The tool for my vengeance may be in its infancy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make them miserable in other ways. Difficult as it is to believe, I can be quite creative when given the chance, and with a power as useful as my [Compulsion], accomplishing such task without revealing myself will be child’s play. Of course, locating them is still an issue, which leads us to the third reason: I will not be able to find those wretched, traitorous curs cooped up in Mystic Falls.

Witches may gossip, but they care about their Lineages- their Covens. With the Mikaelsons threatening their descendants’ lives, fully ready to exact vengeance at a moment’s notice, the Witches won’t sell them out. It’s how they have evaded even a skilled tracker like Mikael for so long.

Now that their little ‘Kingdom’ in the States, or the New World as the people of this Era tend to call it, has been compromised, I doubt they will remain on the Continent, which leaves me with six others to begin my search.

Africa and Antarctica are instantly ruled out. Having lived as royalty for so long, they will have undoubtedly cultivated an aversion to harsh climates and impoverished conditions. Us Vampires may not sweat, or feel the biting cold the same way humans do, but it’s just as uncomfortable for us.

Additionally, their distinct European features would make it difficult for my wayward siblings to blend in in Asia, resulting in the crossing off of that Continent as well.

South America is also eliminated after brief consideration due to its proximity to Mikael’s last sighting.

This leaves Australia and Europe as the remaining options.

Australia, being a young and politically unstable nation in the midst of an era of reform, could offer an opportunity for me to embed myself in its government and manipulate its resources to my advantage, which is why I’d have chosen it.

However, knowing the personalities of the Mikaelsons, only Elijah would care to engage in political intrigues. Hence, I decide on Europe after thinking for a while.

Snapped out of my contemplative state, I find myself in the midst of Mystic Falls’ woods, perched on a hill overlooking the landscape. The settlements have changed, but the overall landscape definitely hasn’t. “Ms. Forbes, how much longer do you plan on hiding?”

I call out, sitting with crossed legs as I gaze out at the waterfall, taking in the stunning scenery. Such occasions are rare, even during the Dark Age when Nature’s at its most beautiful. I can’t be helped, few would risk their lives just to take a glance at the same trees, rocks and lakes.

Even the bravest of us knew there were Demons lurking in the woods, Demons we could only overcome through sheer number. “Mr. Einar…” Dress bunched up in her fists, the blonde sits next to me, hugging her knees. We remain silent, neither knowing where to start, before I, having had enough, point at the lake in the distant. “There used to lie a village. We called them Fishies, for unlike us, they did not venture into the woods to hunt. The lake… It provided them all food they’d ever need, even during the harshest Winters.”

“That’s…”

Margaret’s tongue pushes at the side of her cheeks. “That’s not very nice.”

“I wasn’t.” I chuckled in response, “Though at that time, it was simply the norm. Even today, I reckon the world still functions in this way.”

Less barbaric, perhaps, but people will always find a reason to hate someone, to hurt them. It can be the color of one’s skin; the gender one’s born as; the culture one’s birthed into…

And countless more.

The fault doesn’t lie with Humanity, it’s far deeper. From an evolutionary standpoint, the importance of preserving one’s Lineage and spread are the only meaning Life has, and in such a world where animals to Magicals were just waiting to sink their teeth into us, it makes sense for our ancestors to equate ‘different’ to ‘dangerous’ and ‘hostile’. Unfortunately, such survival mechanism is blind.

“Turns out, those guys were really cool… Mikael and I went to establish trade-agreement with them when I was 15. Their fishes for the furs we got from our hunts.”

I point to another area, lush with green. “The Munchers were the exact opposite, though. That side of the woods used to be completely barren. Without a reliable source of food and water, they turned to raiding and cannibalism. Instead of burying or burning the deceased like we did, they picked the corpses clean… Didn’t even leave the bones, which their tribe used to make stews.”

Margaret cringes at that, and I can’t blame her. ‘Till this very day, I never get why they stayed in that barren area,

‘Out of a sense of belonging, perhaps?’

“They were wiped out when I was 10. Their practices; lack of hygiene and chosen way of living took their toll.” The Munchers were sickly and emaciated. Left without a choice, the tribe rallied against their neighbors. Understandably, the villages and tribes sharing border with them weren’t too thrilled when their people started to get attacked, and destroyed the Muncher. “So much has changed…”

Even with the Magicals culling our number, there were more than a dozen villages and tribes living in these woods. They’re all gone now, leaving not even a trace.

“Do you have to leave so soon? Is vengeance really that important?”

I take my time replying, my hand tightening around hers. “Nine centuries, Margaret. Nine, wasted- stolen from me. Nine centuries of pure fucking tortures… Somewhere along the line, I thought I had gone mad. Maybe I am, I am not even sure anymore.” My fists clench. “She was pregnant, you know? Tatia, I mean. Didn’t even know she was–”

Still doesn’t, I add silently in my mind. “It was so early in her pregnancy… But I could feel it- the Life-Force slowly taking shape in her belly. I wanted it to be a surprise. Mere days after my ‘death’, he came seeking her blood for a Ritual. He was only supposed to take a few drops, but Elijah, so new to his instincts, couldn’t stop his himself.”

That’s what Tatia told me, and from there I managed to deduce the rest. She had told me, ‘Don’t let vengeance cloud your mind’, but…

My palm cracks the rock beneath us. “Tell me, Ms. Forbes, if you were in my shoes, could you have forgiven them? Could you live in peace, knowing the murderer of your spouse and child still wanders the Earth?”

I was never a vengeful person.

My anger burns bright, flickering out just as quickly.

But this… This I cannot forgive.

Not just Elijah, but all of them.

If they hadn’t turned against me, I would’ve been there to protect her, to protect my flesh and blood.

They are just as guilty as that hypocritical bastard.

“They will suffer just as I did, and only when they have lost everything, will I allow them the sweet Gift of Death.” Again, silence envelops us, and then I feel her hands on my body. Arms slung across my neck, the blonde climbs on my lap. “We won’t work.”

I remind her, not that she seems to care.

“I know.”

Margaret whispers breathily, her lips passionately meeting mine in a heated kiss. “Consider this a delightful fantasy, Einar.” My previous resistance gone, I surrender myself to debauchery, immersing in the blonde’s warm and comforting embrace.

While Tatia’s fragrance had resembled verbena, her sweetness delicate and untainted; Margaret’s scent was akin to honey, irresistibly sugary on my palate. My arms, unconsciously, reach for her round bottom.

The billowing dress does Margaret’s figure no justice, I realize as my fingers sink into her ass, spreading the blonde’s cheeks while she gasps at my touches, throwing her neck back.

Never one to reject a meal delivered so readily, my teeth graze her neck, tongue running on her reddened skin as she moans, digging into my back.

I give dear Ms. Forbes a grin, mind whirling with the mischievous thoughts. Compulsion is a Gift, one I do not intend on abusing on the mortals, but this is fair-play, right? “Want to try something fun, Ms. Forbes?” She gives me a half-lidded, and confused gaze. “I’m- I’m not a harlot… I’m not very experienced, so–”

I hush her into silence, hypnotic gaze boring into hers soulful eyes, and mumble. “You shall experience a mini-orgasm every time I touch you.”

It’s fascinating how quickly the Compulsion takes.

I hadn’t even thought of such an application before tonight. Ideas of how to use this to my advantage whirl in my mind, all of them quickly shelved as the beautiful creature in my arms arches, her mouth agape-

Frozen in a soundless scream.

Yet, I allow her no quarter, continuously toying with her body. I don’t even need to use force, since even the lightest graze can cause her to have a climax. Chest heaving; heart beating in her ribcages, Margaret grinds against my bulge and looks at me pleadingly, which only riles up the sadist in me even more. “Ei- Einar~”

No longer able to hold onto my desires, I dig my fangs into her exposed neck.

Previous feedings always caused arousal for the both of us, and though I never commented on it, I knew Margaret would get wet, then lost herself in pleasure late at nights.

Hard not to when your senses are sharper than most predators.

Plus, Margaret can be quite loud.

Neither Alaya, nor I wish to embarrass the blonde, so we kept the fact to ourselves, but since things have reached this level, I suppose a bit of teasing won’t hurt. “How–”

I growl, my tongue slowly lapping up the blood dripping from the puncture holes. “How long have you been dreaming of this, Ms. Forbes? How many times have you played with yourself thinking about me?” Her body tenses, realizing her late-night secrets aren’t secrets after all. A well-aimed slap immediately relaxes the blonde as she slumps into my embrace, her body once again seized by an orgasm.

Desperately, she grinds against my bulge in search of relief, but without my active touches, it seems the Compulsion won’t take effect.

“Einar, please~”

She mumbles needily. “Ju- Just put it in…”

After five mini-orgasms, Margaret’s certainly wet enough for it, yet I remain still, tearing off the fabric hiding her chest from sight.

Hers are not too large, thankfully, as I often find the disproportion rather unattractive. They are, however, firm and bouncy, with pink buds Tatia didn’t have due to her skin tone.

I don’t dive in right away, instead allowing my breaths to tickle the crooks of her neck and her nipples, causing Margaret to shiver, hastening her movements. “Einarrr~!” There’s a touch of anger to her voice now, one I readily ignore. It isn’t my fault she’s so fun to tease.

Then, Margaret moves to unbutton my pants, her hands clumsy yet filled with intensity as I grab hold of them. “Tell me what you want…” She glares at me, unfortunately with the tears marring her mascara; the blush adorning her cheeks and the drool dripping from both of her pairs of lips, it holds no heat at all. “You know what I want…”

The blonde pouts, successfully drawing a peck from me. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Uhm…”

She growls, the sound cut off as I slap her well-shaped ass again.

“Let me give you a hand then.” I tease as Magic transfers from the Curse to my eyes. “Margaret Forbes, tell me all your dirty little desires.” A glassy look comes over the blonde, and she begins. “I- I want you to tear this dress off of me–”

And I oblige, ripping the expensive garment away with a violent yank, allowing cool air to touch her skin. The woman shudders, burying her face in my neck, yet the words continue to spill from her lips in succession. “I want you to knead my ass like before…”

My hands squeeze the bubbles of flesh, finger tracing the outline of her puckered holes. “The- Then I want~ Uhm!”

Margaret holds back a groan, her juices from the concussive orgasms staining my pants dark. “Speak, love. Speak your desires.” I coax gently, the tip of my nail drawing circles around her honeypot, my thumb pressing against her anal canal. I mumble a Spell to clean her rear-hole, before pressing on, using her juices as lube. The blonde groans, a noise that belongs to an animal instead of a civilized woman, and I smirk. ‘Compulsion’s much more fun than I’ve thought.’

Like my voice, my actions too are gentle as I coax her anus to widen.

Even while filled with lust, I haven’t forgotten myself. In the heat of the moment, Margaret may not care, but virginity is everything to a woman in this Era. I don’t want to ruin her life just to satiate my beastly desires, hence anal. “Ei- Einar, that place is–”

I silence her with a kiss, and she moans in my mouth, feeling my thumb leave her ass.

“I’m going to need your help, love.”

I rise, freeing my throbbing cock of its confine. The veiny thing springs out, hitting her cheek with a heavy slap, pre-cum leaking from the tip as I poke at her mouth.

Margaret, still on her knees, stares at the monstrosity wide-eyed. I put my finger in her mouth, beguiling her wet tongue and guiding her head to my crotch. “Show him some love, love.” Blushing, the beautiful blonde takes my cock in her mouth. My hand, on instinct, rests on top of her head, nudging her in the way I prefer.

“Who’d have believed, the gorgeous Ms. Forbes is giving someone fellatio in the middle of the woods.” Her heart races at my words, yet she doesn’t stop, slowly bobbing up and down my length, coating the whole thing in saliva. “Does it excite you, knowing any time now, somebody can just walk in on us?” Just as she starts to get the rhythm of it, my hand tightens around her hair, which causes the blonde sputter.

“Would you like that, love? Being seen impaling yourself on my cock like a harlot?”

Whether she wants to or not, it matters not. Someone’s already watching us from the thick canopy, someone familiar. ‘Hm… Alaya must have followed Margaret here.’

Even half a clearing away, the sounds of her labored breaths are audible. ‘Naught girl…’

The blonde moans around my girth, hand reaching to her drooling lower lips. “I have several Spells to hide us from mortals… Maybe we can have fun in public, sometimes. Just imagine, my cock buried inside you while we’re surrounded by bustling people–”

With every thrust of my hips, more and more juices leak from Margaret’s heated core, her slippery tongue licking every inch of my length. Once I feel my cock’s sufficiently lubed, I pull away, “Yo- You haven’t cum yet.” She sounds almost disappointed in herself, unaware it is by my design. “Of course not. How can I, when we haven’t even moved to the main course? Turn around, love.”

She obeys, showing me her ass.

Though Margaret’s breasts are nothing to scoff at, her bubbly ass is on another level.

“I’ve shown you mine, time to show me yours, don’t you think?”

One hand plopping her naked body up, one spreading her ass-cheek, she blushes- blue, crystal-like eyes observing my reaction. “With both hands, love.” Clumsily, she rests her face against the grass, then reveal her holes to me in all their glory, and boy are they glorious.

First, I press against her pussy, slathering my cock in her juices to ease my entrance.

Unable to stop myself, I push the tip in, stopping just as I feel resistance. Her pussy’s tight, one can only imagine how much tighter her other hole will be. Her juices splash onto my pants, wetting my legs as she climaxes, and I, fully-aware I may just take her virginity in my high, pulls out. Aiming my spear higher, I find myself at the entrance of her anus. “Wai- Wait! That place’s dirt–”

But I’m already in.

The blonde throws her head back, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she screeches in a mixture of pain and pleasure, though my prior Compulsion ensures the latter will dominate overwhelmingly. “Look at you… Cumming from having your ass violated by a Vampire. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“That’sss~!”

I plunge inside her clean hole,

“Becausss–!”

My expression twists as her fleshy walls clamp on my cock.

“Of you!”

Already on edge, I bottom out into her anal canal, painting her insides with my sperm just as she reaches her limit. Margaret slumps on the ground helplessly, beads of sweat dripping down her forehead. She whines, still keeping her ass-cheeks spread so I may gaze upon the fruit of my labor.

The sight’s so erotic, my cock, flaccid from the recent orgasm, jumps up again as I press against her gaping anus. Shaken awake from her stupor, the blonde gives me a startled look, like a deer caught in the headlights. “Yo- You’re not done?!”

I smirk. “Not even close, love.”