Cop Eats His Tiny Wife

The apartment was quiet when Benedict came in, still in the dark blue of his uniform, badge glinting under the hall light. At twenty-nine he stood six foot one, shoulders wide enough to block the doorway, boots heavy on the wood. Carmen met him before he could even drop his keys. Twenty-five, four foot eleven, she had to tip her chin all the way back to find his face, and the sight of her, small, barefoot, drowning in one of his old undershirts, hit him the way it always did. Their marriage ran on that difference. She loved being overpowered. She loved being literally consumed by the massive cop she had married.

All evening she had teased him. Texts between calls. A photo of her hand in her panties. A voice note, breathy, saying she wanted him to eat her on end tonight, not stop, not come up for air until she was ruined. Now she was trembling with it, thighs pressed tight, the shirt hem riding high on her hips.

"You promised," she said, voice thin. She grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and pulled, useless against his size, delicious anyway. "I've been wet since lunch thinking about your mouth. I want you to use me completely, Benedict. Pin me. Devour me. I'm begging."

He set his duty belt on the table without looking away from her. One of his hands could span her waist. He used it, hauling her up until her feet dangled and her soaked panties brushed his belt buckle. She gasped, clinging, already shaking so hard he felt it in his ribs.

"Say what you want," he told her.

"Eat me on end," Carmen whispered against his mouth. "Your tiny wife wants her cop to feast on her pussy for hours. I want it. I'm asking. Use every bit of me."

He growled against her hair, the sound of a man who had been hard in a patrol car for hours because of her. "Then get those clothes off and get in my lap. You're not walking anywhere tonight." Carmen's breath broke. Her tiny body shook harder, eager, already nodding, already his.

She stripped where he stood, dragging the undershirt over her head, then hooking her thumbs in her panties and shoving them down her short legs. Naked, she was even smaller. Narrow hips, small breasts, a neat dark triangle of hair above a pussy already glossy. She climbed into his lap the second he sat on the edge of the couch, knees planted on either side of his thighs, her whole weight nothing in his hands.

Benedict's erection strained his uniform pants, huge against her stomach when she ground down. She rocked, smearing wet along the fabric, chasing the thick ridge of him. "God, you're so big," she whispered, filthy and desperate. "I'm gonna fuck the cops tonight. This cop. Even if you're the one who wrecks me and eats me after. I can barely get my legs around you. Eat me. Please eat my pussy for hours. I want your mouth covering all of me. I want to sit on your face and still feel tiny. Devour me, cop. Make your wife come until she cries."

He gripped her ass, both cheeks filling his palms, and let her grind until his cock ached and her slick had soaked through. The size difference shoved them over the edge faster than either of them meant. She was begging in his ear, voice cracking, hips frantic. He stood with her still wrapped around him, carried her down the hall like she weighed nothing, and dropped her on their bed.

"Legs," he said.

Carmen spread them as wide as her short thighs would go, knees falling open, pink and soaked and trembling. Benedict knelt between them, shoulders so broad they shoved her legs even wider, and buried his face. His mouth covered her sex completely, lips and tongue and the heat of his breath, and he ate her like a starving man. She moaned, loud, both hands flying to his head, fingers in his short hair, holding him there.

"More," she begged, active, pushing her hips up into his mouth. "Don't stop. Eat me. God, eat me, Benedict. Right there. Use your tongue. I'm yours. Fuck, I'm yours."

His tongue flattened and dragged, broad as her whole cunt, and Carmen's back bowed off the mattress. She locked her small ankles behind his neck as far as they would reach and held his head with both hands, grinding her soaked pussy into his mouth like she meant to drown him. "Hours," she panted. "You said hours. Suck my clit. Tongue-fuck me. Don't you dare come up until I've come all over your face, Officer. Eat your wife. Eat me on end."

Benedict growled into her, the vibration punching through her, and sealed his mouth over her and sucked. She sobbed his name and begged harder, filthy and sure, giving him every inch of her tiny body to consume.

Benedict ate her like he had all night and intended to use it. His large hands pinned her tiny thrashing hips to the mattress, thumbs digging into the soft flesh above her hipbones, holding her still while his mouth worked. He sucked her clit in long, filthy pulls, tongue flicking the swollen bud until her thighs shook against his ears. Then he licked lower, dragging through her soaked folds, gathering her taste, groaning at it. When he stiffened his tongue and pushed it into her cunt, Carmen cried out and came the first time, sharp and sudden, gushing against his mouth.

He didn't stop. He tongue-fucked her through it, fucking that wet hole with steady strokes while his nose ground her clit, drinking her down. She thrashed under his hands and couldn't move him. A second orgasm rolled in before the first had finished, her voice breaking on his name, her small heels kicking the sheets. He sucked harder. He licked her open. He sealed his whole mouth over her sex and devoured her, sloppy and ravenous, spit and her slick shining on his chin.

"Again," he said into her cunt, and made it happen. A third. She sobbed, oversensitive and still pushing into his face, begging him not to stop, telling him she was his meal, his tiny soaked wife, his to eat. He pinned her harder when she tried to twist away from the pleasure and licked her through a fourth, slow and mean, flattening his tongue and rubbing until she screamed into the pillow and came so hard her vision went white.

Only then did he lift his head, mouth wrecked, eyes dark. "On your knees."

Carmen scrambled, shaky, and he flipped her onto all fours like she was nothing. Her ass was small in his hands. He shoved his uniform pants down, freed his cock, thick, heavy, obscene against the scale of her, and dragged the head through her soaked cunt. She pushed back, moaning, wanting it. He slid into her in one long thrust, stretching her, filling her until her arms nearly buckled.

"Fuck," she gasped. "You're so deep. Fuck me. Fuck your wife, cop."

He pounded her. Merciless. Hips snapping, the wet slap of his body against her tiny ass filling the room, one big hand on the back of her neck, the other hauling her hips onto his cock. Every thrust shoved her up the bed. He dragged her back by the hips and sank in again, cock splitting her open, the wet sound obscene. "Take it," he snarled. "This tiny cunt was made for a cop's cock. Soak me. Come on it. Then I'm eating every drop." Carmen wailed and came, clenching so hard he had to fight to keep fucking her, her small body jolting under his hands. She took it, crying out with every stroke, soaked and clenching, coming again around him while he fucked her through it. He leaned over her, chest to her back, and growled against her ear.

"I'm going to fill this cunt," he said, voice raw. "Then I'm going to flip you over and eat you again. Eat my cum out of you. Feast on this pussy until you scream. You hear me?"

"Yes, yes, eat me after, fill me and eat me, please."

He drove in deep and came, thick pulses flooding her, grinding through it while she shook and milked him. The second he finished he pulled out, flipped her onto her back with those same huge hands, and shoved her thighs apart. His cum leaked from her swollen, used pussy, mixed with her slick, and Benedict buried his face between her legs and feasted. He licked into her, sucking his own spend and her juices out of her cunt, tongue-fucking the mess back into his mouth, groaning like it was the best thing he had ever tasted. Carmen screamed. Her hands scrabbled at his hair. He ate her through another orgasm, messy and relentless, face soaked, not letting up until her voice cracked on his name. He sucked her clit while his cum leaked onto his tongue, then plunged back in, licking her clean and filthy at once, nose buried in her, shoulders pinning her thighs wide. She screamed again, raw, another orgasm ripping through her while he feasted, refusing to lift his head, devouring the mess he had made of his wife until the sheets under her ass were ruined. She begged him to keep eating, voice already shredding, and he did, hungry, relentless, a cop devouring his tiny wife exactly the way she had begged him to.

Benedict kept his word. He ate Carmen's overstimulated pussy for nearly an hour straight, mouth sealed over her, tongue working her through orgasm after orgasm until she lost count. Her voice went hoarse. Her tiny body went limp and twitching, thighs jerking against his ears every time he sucked her clit and started again. When he finally pulled back, his face was soaked from nose to chin. He licked his lips, slow and filthy, and looked at the wreck of her.

"Best meal I've ever had," he said.

Carmen's throat was raw. She still spread her shaking legs wider, cunt red and glistening, and rasped, "Then get back down there tomorrow and eat this soaked pussy until I scream for you again, cop. I'm not done being your meal."

He dragged his tongue up her cum-slick slit one last time and growled, "Open wider. I'm not finished swallowing you."