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Story: The WitchSlayer

His look softened. He moved his hands to her thighs, digging his thumbs in so he could move the skin with a rough touch.

“I will show you.” After a few moments, she nodded, and he began to lift her with both hands, making her knees extend until she couldn’t go any higher. “Now, feed my cock into your warm pussy.”

Amalia could feel her heart racing. Her hands were shaking when she brought them down her body, and she couldn’t handle his stare when she lifted his shaft with both her hands, having to avert her eyes down to where she made them meet.

Once she tucked the head against her entrance, she felt that his hands no longer held her up and were just holding her. It took her a moment to realise he was waiting for her to get the courage to lower herself.

She let herself fall. The broad head of his shaft popped inside before she glided down. Her body had already adjusted to his size from earlier, and because she was wet, not only from being aroused but also because of his seed, he entered her smoothly.

Her hips squirmed a little when she felt him reach the end of her channel. A strangled noise came from her.

“You feel much deeper like this,” she commented, unable to stop herself from spreading her legs further to feel him deeper. She started to pant.

She could tell he was pleased with what she said, with her reaction to his shaft.

Then he began to lift her again. She unbent her knees to help until she was halfway, and he pulled her back down again. He helped her a few more times until she was able to do it on her own.

He moved his hands away to slide them to her waist, and she could feel each finger slipping against her back as his hands seemed to softly caress her. The oddly tender touch almost made her bow.

She didn’t realise that once he moved them away it would become more difficult to move. That he had not only been helping her to move, but had also been balancing her.

How do I hold on?She cupped her hands to her chest before she tentatively lowered them. She wondered if it would be okay if she placed her fingertips on his abdomen to steady herself.

She almost flinched when his hands moved as she touched him, but he did it to grab hers and place them firmly against his stomach. Her eyes darted up to his, her lids flickering with how he was watching her.

“Touch me as much as you like, press against me to help yourself.”

His words surprised her. Her eyes drifted down his body, realising he was giving her the freedom to place her hands on him wherever she wanted. She moved her hips up and down with a little more confidence as some of her awkwardness faded.

Leaving one hand against his stomach to hold herself up, the other ran over to above his hip to place her hand over the blast scar. Her eyes darted up to make sure it was okay, and she noticed he frowned at her for touching him there.

She let her other hand creep forward just a little higher until her hand was over the slashing scar across his stomach above his navel. She explored it by trailing the pad of her thumb against it.

Moving like this, bending her body over, she realised that it changed the way her hips were sitting and made his cock slide differently inside her.

She moaned when she now felt the head of his shaft rubbing right against that sensitive ridge inside her. The one that always made her mind feel scrambled.

What happens if I go higher?She moved the palm over his blast scar up his body until it was over the one next to his sternum.

Her head fell forward as her lips parted. She lost her breath completely and then struggled to get it back as she moved. His cock pressed more firmly now, and she felt her eyes daze and her sight split in two for a moment.

She didn’t realise that her hair had fallen over him until he swiped it to one shoulder and lifted her chin with the other so she was looking at him.

She was losing herself, her body growing wetter with each stroke of his cock. The shyness and nervousness she felt faded into pure need, wanting to reach that razor's edge where she would tip.

Her eyes found his silver ones, and whatever he saw in hers made a grin form across his face. Her body clenched him in reaction to it, making her moan directly for him, and it grew. His breathing was becoming shallow, and he dabbled his tongue at the seam of his lips.

She drew away from his hand and his stare, unable to handle the intensity of it any longer.

She knew she surprised him when she moved the hand near his sternum to his chest, her fingers digging into the masculine muscle rather than a scar. She felt it bunch under her palm when her thumb rubbed over his nipple, and his hips thrust up when she brushed over it again, making her gasp.

She was practically leaning over him now, shamelessly kneading his chest as she started to grind her body into his. She knew she was going to come soon. She could feel her body trembling, her core throbbing around his shaft.

It was slowly building, unhurriedly approaching. She released another moan, her head tilting forward. Amalia was now desperately aiming for it.

As if he could sense it, his hands came to her hips and changed what she was doing. Instead of making her go up and down, he started pushing her back-and-forth. Her eyes widened when he started lifting her at the same time, showing her that she could control where she made him prod her.

Her breath caught right when it felt perfect. He stopped lifting her. Instead, he started making her hips move in a circle of both up and down and back-and-forth right where she needed to. She felt her body moving in a wave. Her skin prickled all over, her breasts feeling heavier and weighted, and that slow build suddenly went faster.

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