Strained Submission: A Tight Fit

The rain hammered against the windows of our small cabin, a relentless rhythm mirroring the frantic thrum in my veins. Ten months. Ten months since we’d last truly connected, a chasm of strained smiles and awkward silences widening between us. Last night had been a painful reminder of that distance, a desperate plea for intimacy met with a grimace and a frustrated sigh from Mary Beth. Her small frame, usually a source of comfort, felt constricted, her body holding back, resisting the full measure of my desire. It wasn't just the physical discomfort; it was the unspoken fear, the knowledge of her recent medical woes that hung heavy in the air.

Tonight, I’d come prepared, determined to break through the wall of tension. I emerged from the shower, the lingering warmth of the water clinging to my skin, my cock hanging limp, only about half its size when fully aroused. The anticipation coiled tight in my stomach, a potent mix of hope and anxiety. Mary Beth was already on the bed, her presence radiating a quiet strength that both attracted and intimidated me. Her eyes, dark and knowing, held a flicker of vulnerability beneath their usual composure.

“Lie down quickly,” she instructed, her voice low and urgent. Without hesitation, I obeyed, sinking into the plush mattress beneath her. The scent of lavender and something subtly musky, her own unique fragrance, filled my senses, heightening my awareness of her proximity. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the insistent drumming of the rain, before she began to move, slowly, deliberately. She pulled back the sheets, revealing her pale, slender form, and then, with a decisive grace, positioned herself above me, straddling my hips.

A wave of heat flushed through me as I caught sight of her. Her pussy, glistening with a thick, pearly white lubricant, was a silent invitation, a stark contrast to the earlier grimace. She reached out, her fingers tracing the base of my cock, squeezing with a firm, possessive grip. The pressure built, sending jolts of pleasure and pain through my body. My cock began to swell, stretching and straining against the confines of her embrace, and I gritted my teeth, pushing through the discomfort, focusing on the growing intensity of the sensation.

“Dr. Amber says I have to stretch my pussy out again,” she whispered, her voice a little breathless. “She told me my cervix has dropped and there is scar tissue from birth.” Her words hung in the air, a clinical explanation for the physical limitations that had become our reality. Yet, even as I registered her diagnosis, my own body was responding with a primal urgency, demanding release.

Despite my concern for her well-being, I felt my cock growing larger, expanding within the confines of her tight pussy. The sensation was both exhilarating and frustrating. She squirmed beneath me, a visible struggle against the constraints she imposed on herself, her body tense and strained. My own muscles contracted, pulling and arching in response to her movements, my cock desperately seeking space, yearning for release. It felt tighter, shallower than before, a constant reminder of the changes that had altered her anatomy. The discomfort escalated, becoming almost unbearable, and I knew I couldn't maintain this position for long.

“Mary Beth, you’re sooo fucking tight,” I groaned, my voice thick with desire and frustration. “Hold still or I’ll fill your little pussy with my cum.” My words were a challenge, a plea, a desperate attempt to ignite a fire within her. It seemed to work. Her hips began to rock back and forth, a rhythmic, insistent movement that threatened to overwhelm my control.

“Give it to me! Make me a woman again and fill me with your cum,” she demanded, her voice laced with a desperate plea. Her body writhed beneath me, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

“OOOhhh fuuuuuck!” I roared, abandoning all restraint. My cock exploded, releasing a torrent of hot, viscous fluid into her receptive depths. The pleasure was overwhelming, a volcanic eruption of sensation that surged through my veins.

Mary Beth shuddered violently, shaking with a mixture of pleasure and relief. Then, she collapsed on my chest, her body limp and exhausted. Her pussy gripped my cock so tightly, it felt like a vise, unable to soften or relinquish its hold. As our cum slowly seeped out around my cock, a strange, primal connection formed between us, a shared experience of intense pleasure and release. Her tits leaked their sweet milk onto my chest, a sticky, warm sensation that enhanced the already overwhelming sensations.

I began to lift her, carefully maneuvering her off my lap, pulling her towards me to relieve the pressure on my cock. But she cried out, a small, pained sound, and wiggled free, clinging to my body with surprising strength. “No!” she gasped, her voice choked with emotion. “You feel sooo good in me; don’t leave.” She squeezed and relaxed, pulsing rhythmically around my cock, neither of us moving, lost in the shared experience.

This was a new sensation, a strange intimacy born of both pleasure and pain. She milked my cock like our baby’s mouth nursing at her nipples, a primal act of nourishment and connection. As her rhythmic contractions sped up, so did my breathing, my heart pounding in time with the escalating intensity of our mutual pleasure. The world narrowed, focusing solely on the sensations flooding my senses.

“OOOoooh, yessss!” I screamed, losing myself in the moment, as my cock jumped and filled her full of my hot cum again. She continued milking my cock till my spasms subsided, then squeezed down hard around my cock, her grip unrelenting. The pressure built, forcing me to fight for control, pushing through the pain, determined to reach the peak of ecstasy. Finally, as her rhythmic contractions slowed, I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me, leaving me limp and vulnerable in her embrace.

Her body shuddered one last time, and then she came, a powerful, involuntary release that sent shivers down my spine. As she collapsed on my chest again, her pussy gripped my cock even tighter, refusing to let go. Her moans filled the small cabin, mingling with the insistent drumming of the rain. It was in this moment, in the shared intimacy of our bodies, that we found a measure of solace, a glimmer of hope in the midst of our physical limitations. The rain continued to fall, washing away the tension and replacing it with a sense of profound connection. We remained there, locked in an embrace, two bodies intertwined, finding pleasure and release in the shared experience of our love.

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