Stretched and Claimed

Selena stood barefoot on the cool marble of her penthouse living room, the city lights glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her. At forty-one she still carried herself with elegant poise—silk robe loosely belted, dark hair tumbling over one shoulder—but every line of her body thrummed with raw, long-denied hunger. Roman was only inches away, towel slung low on his hips, water still beading on the hard planes of his twenty-two-year-old chest. Estelle had left three hours ago for her photography weekend upstate; the apartment felt enormous and dangerous without her.

“I’ve been staring at that fucking thing for months,” Selena said, voice husky. Her eyes dropped deliberately to the heavy bulge under the towel. “Every time you walk out of the shower, every time you stretch after a workout. I don’t want it in my pussy first, Roman. I want that massive nine-inch cock to ruin my neglected ass. Stretch me open until I can’t walk straight. I’ve fingered myself raw thinking about it.”

Roman’s mouth curved into a filthy grin. He yanked the towel free and let it drop. His cock sprang up thick and veined, the fat head already shiny, hanging heavy and long enough that Selena’s breath caught. “Jesus, Selena. I’ve been dying to feel that tight hole clamp around me. Knew you were watching. Knew you wanted it. Turn around and show me what’s mine tonight.”

She didn’t hesitate. Selena sank to her knees on the thick rug, silk robe sliding off her shoulders to pool around her waist. Her full tits swayed as she leaned in, both hands wrapping the base of that monster cock. It was scorching hot, pulsing against her palms. She dragged her tongue from the heavy balls all the way up the underside, slow and sloppy, then opened wide and took the head into her mouth. Spit immediately flooded around him. She bobbed deeper, gagging wetly when the fat ridge hit the back of her throat, eyes watering as she forced herself farther. Long, filthy strokes of tongue and lips coated him until saliva ran down her chin and dripped onto her tits.

“Fuck, look at you slobbering on it,” Roman growled, fists in her hair. “Beg for it. Tell me what you need.”

Selena pulled off with a filthy pop, strings of spit connecting her swollen lips to his glistening shaft. “Claim my ass. Please. Stretch me until it gapes. I want every inch wrecking me while Estelle’s gone. Make it hurt so good I come just from your cock in my hole.”

He hauled her up, spun her, and bent her over the back of the wide leather sofa. The cool leather kissed her bare stomach and peaked nipples. Selena’s robe hung open; she reached back and spread her own cheeks, showing him the tight pink pucker that hadn’t been touched in years. Roman grabbed the bottle of lube from the side table—she’d left it there on purpose—and poured a thick stream of cold liquid down her crack. It slid over her hole and dripped onto her soaked pussy lips. He worked one thick finger in first, then a second, twisting, scissoring, stretching the virgin-tight ring while she moaned and pushed back hard.

“More,” she demanded, voice breaking. “Three. Give me three and then replace them with that cock. Fuck, Roman, it burns so perfect—”

He forced a third finger inside. Her ass clenched and fluttered around the intrusion, the wet sounds filthy in the quiet penthouse. Selena’s knuckles went white on the leather as she fucked herself back onto his hand, desperate, cunt dripping down her thighs.

“Ready?” he asked, voice rough.