FREE USE in Primitive World Chapter 110

"You like that, Sol?" she taunted, slapping her own ass as she rose and fell. "You like being ridden by the lazy widow? Does it feel dirty? Does it feel wrong?"

Sol gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to buck his hips and finish it. "It feels... useful."

"Useful?" She laughed, a throaty, breathless sound. She slammed down hard, her cervix hitting the head of his cock. "I’ll show you useful! I’m going to drain you dry! I’m going to milk you until you’re a husk!"

She abandoned the slow grind for a brutal, slapping rhythm. Thwack, thwack, thwack. Her flesh collided with his, her inner walls spasming around him.

"Cum for me!" she screamed, leaning back, her hands finding her own clitoris. She rubbed herself frantically while riding him, her face contorted in a mask of pure pleasure. "Fill me up! I want it now!"

Sol felt his control snapping. The sight of her—arrogant, demanding, masturbating while using his body as a dildo—was too much.

"Not yet," Sol snarled.

He sat up suddenly, breaking her rhythm. He wrapped his arms around her waist and stood up, lifting her with him.

Evara shrieked as the world tilted, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to stay connected.

Sol didn’t stop. He carried her across the small hut, her weight nothing to his enhanced strength. He slammed her back against the rough wooden support beam of the hut.

THUD.

The impact knocked the breath out of her, but it also drove him deeper than before.

"Sol!" she gasped, clinging to his neck. "What... what are you doing?"

"You wanted to ride?" Sol growled, pressing his forehead against hers. "Then hold on."

He began to fuck her standing up. He used the beam for leverage, driving into her with long, punishing strokes. Gravity was working against her, pulling her down onto his cock with every thrust.

"You talk big," Sol whispered into her ear, using the Ash-Grey Voice to amplify her arousal to painful levels. "But look at you. Pinned to a wall. Legs spread. Taking it like a stray dog."

"I’m not..." she whimpered, her head falling back, exposing her throat. "I’m a... respectable woman..."

"Respectable women don’t beg for their neighbor’s cock," Sol countered, biting the sensitive cord of muscle in her neck. "Respectable women don’t invite men in to strip them naked. You’re not respectable, Evara. You’re a slut for vitality."

"Yes..." she sobbed, the taboo breaking her mind. "Yes... I’m a slut... I’m your slut..."

Sol reached down between their bodies. His thumb found her clitoris, swollen and throbbing from her earlier ministrations. He pressed down hard.

Evara screamed. Her inner walls clamped down so hard Sol thought he might lose circulation. She climaxed violently, her entire body seizing up. She shook in his arms, her head banging rhythmically against the wooden beam.

"That’s it," Sol encouraged, thrusting through her orgasm, not letting her rest. "Bleed that energy. Give it to me."

He felt the Golden Vitality rushing into him. It was repairing the last of his internal bruising. It was hardening his skin. It was making his senses sharper.

But Evara wasn’t done. The Ash-Grey energy wouldn’t let her be done. As soon as the first orgasm faded, a second wave of arousal hit her, stronger than the first.

She looked at him with wild, terrified eyes. "Sol... why? Why am I still hot? Why do I still need it?"

"Because I haven’t given you the cure yet," Sol said.

He pulled out abruptly. Evara slid down the beam, her legs giving out. She landed on her knees in the dirt floor, panting, her pussy gaping and red.

Sol stood over her. He looked like a god of fertility—sweat-slicked, muscular, and terrifyingly erect.

"Turn around," he ordered. "Hands on the beam. Ass out."

Evara crawled into position. She grabbed the wood, arching her back so deeply her spine cracked. She looked back at him over her shoulder, sticking her tongue out, her face a mess of drool and lust.

"Do it," she begged, wiggling her ass. "Destroy me, Sol. I can’t take the heat anymore."

Sol stepped up behind her. He grabbed her hips, his fingers bruising the pale flesh.

"You wanted to know if my magic extended to lasting power?" Sol asked, lining himself up. "You wanted to know if I could keep up?"

He drove into her from behind, the Prone Bone angle hitting her deepest spot instantly.

"OH GODS!"

"I’m just getting started."

The rhythm was brutal now. There was no romance, no massage oil, no pretense. It was the raw friction of skin on skin, the slap of pelvis against buttocks.

Sol pounded into her with the relentless consistency of a piston. Every thrust was a harvest. He visualized the energy transfer:

Thrust. Golden light pulled from her core. Pull. His own body knitting together, becoming denser, stronger.

Evara was gone. Her mind had shattered under the relentless pleasure. She was babbling, drooling onto her own arm, her eyes rolled back so far only the whites showed.

"Deep... too deep... womb... baby... put it in..."

Sol heard the word baby. It triggered something in the Primal Resonance. The biological imperative. The need to breed.

The Ash-Grey energy flared. It demanded dominance. It demanded he mark his territory in the most permanent way possible.

"You want it?" Sol roared, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back. "You want my seed?"

"YES!" Evara screamed, her voice cracking. "FILL ME! BREED ME! MAKE ME YOURS!"

Sol let go.

He drove in to the hilt and held it there, grinding his pelvis against her ass. He felt the pressure in his balls reach critical mass.

And finally FLOODED INSIDE.

The release was explosive.

It wasn’t just fluid. It felt like he was pouring liquid lightning into her. He pumped wave after wave of seed deep into her womb, coating her insides, marking her chemically and spiritually.

As he climaxed, he pulled on the connection one last time. He didn’t just sip the vitality; he gulped it.

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