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The storm wasn’t giving way. If anything, it was growing stronger by the second and it didn’t take a genius to realize Jack Frost was on a war path. You rub your hands and hold them in front of your mouth but the hot puff of your breath cools before it has a chance to taw the chill gloving your shaking fingertips. It’s so cold your hands hurt and the snowflakes cling to your eyelashes, blurring your vision. It was stupid venturing in the unknown terrain on foot but you’ve always been a stubborn son of a bitch. Reckless too and you were sure a little snow wasn’t going to be the end of you. What you seemed to have forgotten about was the violent winters those unpopulated mountains were known for and the bipolar shift in the weather’s temperament from bad to damn right deadly. It was too late for regrets now but you do take a second to call yourself an idiot. You know it’s pointless to check your phone. You didn’t manage to catch a signal for hours and you didn’t see a soul cross your path since you began this thoughtless adventure. Nobody was looking for you either so nobody was going to get wise to your absence. With some luck you reckon some hiker will stumble upon your frozen corpse in the near future but the more likely outcome was you’ll become food for the starving wilderness actually capable of surviving in those hostile forests. It’s weird, but the idea of imminent death doesn’t scare you as much as it should. Well, considering the life you’ve lead it was just the tip of the iceberg and honestly, you anticipated a far more violent end. This was almost…peaceful.
At first you’re sure the cold is playing tricks on you so you blink a few times, shooing away the flakes icing your lashes but the faint light doesn’t go away. You can’t believe your luck but something out there is clearly looking out for you because finding a retreat in your hour of need is nothing short of a miracle. You find new energy and begin trudging through the knee high snow towards the light. Your arms hug around your chest, drawing strength from the heat of your organs as you struggle against the wind determined to put you down and claim you as its pray. At last that stubborn nature of yours comes in handy and you glower as you approach your salvation. The closer you get the more you understand what you’re struggling to reach. Some angel saw fit to build a lodge in this winterscape. You can’t possibly see a good reason for such a business venture but far be it for you to question your overworked lucky stars. The glow from inside the windows looks so warm and the buttery yellow shines like a lighthouse hailing ships to the safety of a harbour. You huff a mad laugh at the near miss and answer the siren call. Looks like it wasn’t in the cards for you to die tonight. You let out a few chesty grunts but stop when you realize how sore your throat is.
You’re too busy getting inside to pay attention to the outside of the building but from the corner of your eye you catch a quick glimpse of flaking green paint and wood planks. The door hinges creek as you shoulder your way inside and rush to shut the furious wind outside where it belongs. The warmth of the place is an immediate relief and your next breath doesn’t cut like razorblades all the way through your lungs.
‘Come in! Come in! You must be crazy to be out there in this weather! Get your ass inside before you catch your death. Dealing with a body outside my front door is the last thing I need.’ You glance over your shoulder to figure out who spoke and settle on the man behind the counter. The wall behind him is shelved with bottles of liquor and you figure he must be a bartender. Probably the owner too. Big guy, grizzly beard, middle aged. He has the look of someone who’s dealt with some hard swings from life and remained standing. That quip about a dead body sounded like a joke but you recognize the edge of honesty when you hear it. If you were a betting man you’d reckon you wouldn’t have been the first body this stranger dealt with…
‘Take a seat at one of the tables. Plenty of room. I’ll bring you something to warm you up.’ You nod your thanks and glance at the space now that you’ve had a second for the warmth to work its way through your skin and your shaking began to subside. The stranger wasn’t kidding. The place is empty which is not surprising considering the weather outside. There’s only one other man sitting at the counter, back turned to you. You barely give him a glance before you shake the fresh snow out of your hair and head for the closest seat to the inviting mantlepiece. A fire is already going strong in the hearth and the flame tongues lick at your drenched clothes. You don’t have to wait long before the nameless man approaches you with a glass. He places it on the table in front of you.
‘This will do the trick. Guessing you’re staying for the night?’ You take a sip and nearly spit the amber liquid back out. This stuff could strip varnish off woodwork but it does deliver on the promise of burning all the way down your gullet. After a moment you take another swallow, this one more enthusiastically, and appreciate the sear settling in the pits of your guts. ‘We’ll talk costs in the morning.’ You glance up at the man and nod gratefully. The last thing you need to think about right now is how much cash you have on your person. Not much but hopefully once the storm clears you can get in contact with your peers and get some cash. Not much of an alternative anyway.
‘Dinner’s cooking so you’ll have to be patient and wait for it. Won’t be long.’ You almost shake your head to say you’re not hungry but the growl in your stomach beats you to the punch. Guess you didn’t notice the gnawing pain in your empty belly amidst all that numbing cold and an embarrassed blush dusts your cheekbones but the man just nods and returns back to his work behind the bar. You suppose fighting the blizzard must have exhausted your reserves. It’d be wise to stop drinking with an empty stomach but the hot lighting of your system brought by the slosh is too nice to resist. Another generous swallow and you already feel it creep up your spine.
While you wait and let the heat taw you inside and out, you take the opportunity to look around. The place looks cozy, albeit empty. Theres a few tables and pictures on the walls. Mostly landscapes, pleasing and generic. The dust on them is visible from across the room and you gather the place doesn’t see much foot-traffic. Maybe during spring the lodge will look more put together. You listen for the sound of anyone else but you gather the man is the sole caretaker which might explain the cobwebs in the corners. Man doesn’t look like the dusting type… Curiously you glance over to the only other patron, free to stare since the guy still has his back turned to you. You wonder what could possibly bring someone to this place on a night like this but you suppose it’s entirely possible he’d been staying here before the storm hit. Unlike you, he doesn’t look like a drowned rat. Not your business anyway.
Hard to tell the man’s age with your limited view but if you were a betting man, you’d say thirties. His shirt is snug enough around his body to define exceptionally toned muscles but if you needed any more confirmation, the bare arms settled your intrigue. A sympathetic shiver jolts through you at the guy’s crazy decision to wear a t-shirt when your skin is pinpricked with gooseflesh, courtesy of Father Winter’s caress. But hey, it’s not like you don’t appreciate the sight of the taught biceps and as you openly gawk you’re not entirely sure if the spike in temperature in your lower gut is just from the alcohol or something else…. Those biceps looked like they could literally tear a man in half and you think maybe you should look away before you give the stranger a reason to prove you right. But damn, you always had a thing for a tough body.
When you glance away, your heart does a swan dive when you get pinned by the narrowed eyes staring right back at you. You have no idea how long the man had fixed you with his steely glare but he must have noticed your interested stare. It wasn’t like you made any attempt to mask it… There’s something familiar about those eyes but that doesn’t flood you with a sense of comfort. Some primal part of your reptilian brain responds to the dangerous air around this man and you’re intimately familiar with the acrid taste of your fight or flight reflex flooding your cortex with adrenaline. It’s crazy and totally unlike you but for an irrationally mad second you feel your alarm bells blare and tell you to take your chances with the blizzard outside. This man is dangerous. It’s a crazy thought of course and the hex breaks when the guy turns back to his drink. It all happened so fast but you feel a sense of relief wash over you nonetheless and you just now realize you stopped breathing while you got swept up in the blue depths. A knife’s edge seemed dull by comparison to that penetrating stare. You’ve only ever met one other man in your past who could make you feel this…But that was impossible. Your old Major was gone AWOL! He was branded a traitor and, though there were rumours of his death which you never bought into, you can’t see a reason why you’d ever run into the blonde again. The alcohol or your narrow escape from waltzing with the Grim Reaper must be muddling your brain up. Yeah… That had to be it.
Your thoughts get interrupted when you notice the small movement from the corner of your eye. You hadn’t notice the bartender place a second glass, full with more of the strong shit currently giving you gut rot, on the seat next to the stranger. Your attention was drawn to it when the man started tapping the countertop, the soft nail patter against the wood almost too loud in the creepy quiet of this place. The only accompanying sound was the occasional pop of the wood splitting as the fire devoured it to ashes and perhaps your own unsettled heartbeat inside your head. That one instant really had you shook and you throw back the last of the alcohol in your own glass, fingers squeezing on it just a little too hard to disguise your attempt at nonchalance. It’s obvious the drink was meant for you and you consider the invitation. You stay put a heartbeat longer before you shake your head in self-deprecation. You’re being stupid. The man was probably just being cordial and maybe happy to get some company. This weird dread moving through the marrow of your bones was just dumb and fuck, you prided yourself on never passing up a free drink. This was not going to be the day you were going to change that!
You leave your emptied glass on the table and quietly make your way to the designated seat. Your attempt to put some pep in your step falls short and a blind man could tell there was an edge of hesitancy there. The bartender glances up from his task of drying cups, a glint of something knowing in his eye but he shrugs and returns to his work before you can discern anything more. The counter has a row of stools lined along it and you slide on the one beside the other man, wordlessly reaching for the glass. Even with the growing numbness brought on by your pleasant buzz, this stuff burns all the way down but you keep a straight face as if this was some unspoken test put forth by your drinking buddy and you’re determined to prove yourself. Still, it’s a relief when you get to put the poison down.
‘Saw you staring. If you’re going to do that shit, you should get better at hiding it.’ You feel the heat rise all the way up to your eyeballs. The man smirks and it doesn’t sound like he’s mad but it’s hard to tell with the rumble of his tone. Reminds you of the roll of thunder and you swallow around the lump in your throat. Maybe you could have fooled yourself into thinking you were seeing things but there’s no fucking way you could forget that voice. You’ve heard it boss you around plenty of times, demanding you run drills until you were so exhausted you were too tired to feel tired. You might have been staring before but you’re gawking now.
‘Close your mouth. Place’s filthy enough for flies.’ Krauser smirks at the bartender who shows him the middle finger, evidently unperturbed by the comment. You were pretty sure anyone else who did that to the Major you remembered would have been left with nine fingers by now. You don’t think Jack Krauser’s the sort to soften with age so the two must have history.
‘Weird running into you here though. Been a while rookie.’ Except you haven’t been a rookie for many years. You consider setting the man straight but rethink it. You like the way it sounds when Krauser says it. Instead of speaking you flood your mouth with more bottom shelf scotch, thoughts flying around like a kicked hornet’s nest so you don’t realize you’re swallowing the liquid fire like it’s water. You’re vaguely aware of Krauser watching you pensively, eyes narrowed and that slow drag of them makes your skin feel too tight around your flesh.
‘You look good.’ The burn is so much worse coming back up as you choke on your swallow. Even erring on the dangerous side of getting drunk, you realize there was a notable drop in the older man’s voice. The blond smirks again as if he’d just snared some tasty game and knocks the rest of his drink back. Krauser’s glass still had a generous amount of amber left in it and your stomach roils in sympathy at the sear of that stuff. When he bangs the glass back on the table he fixes you with a stare which would, and still does, turn your insides to stone. ‘You wanna fuck?’
If your jaw would drop any lower it might actually hit the floor. Speech seems to have become a lost art and Krauser scoffs again at your dumbfounded, stupefied expression. He exchanges a look with the owner who rolls his eyes with a long suffering sigh while you make a bad attempt at gathering your wits.
‘Don’t break anything this time Jack. I’ll be in the kitchen.’ You hear the sound of the moving boots but you don’t turn to look back. Krauser hums and gets to his feet before he fixes you with that petrifying look again. Maybe he was about to say it was some stupid bar joke because there’s no way you heard that correct….
‘Toilets. Don’t keep me waiting rookie.’ That ordering tone, as if he already knows that you’ll follow instructions. It made sense. You always did in the past… Krauser doesn’t wait for you to say anything before heading for the aforementioned restroom. You stare after him, tongue still heavy and useless between your teeth. Tall, broad backed and still so fine your mouth naturally starts watering, your old Major strides with assurance to the WC marked door. You stare after, ass still grounded to your stool. You wish you at least took a second to consider resisting but when you look back on this day in the future you can’t lie to yourself. As soon as he called you ‘rookie’ your juices started flowing. But at least you’ll have the freedom to blame it on the strong booze. It’ll be a lie but who the fuck was going to challenge you on your crazy idea to follow Jack Krauser in the bathroom of some inn for a sloppy fuck? Maybe it was just curiosity or some unresolved attraction but in the end reasons didn’t matter. Like a good boy you followed instruction and at least had the good grace not to skip.
The hinges need an oiling and they announce your arrival with a groan. The room is just big enough for two or three people to fit in with a sink, mirror and a toilet wedged in the corner. There’s a confusing mix of excited weariness strumming through your veins. You expect to see the Major waiting for you but you frown when you take a step inside the chamber and find it empty. Weird. You definitely saw Krauser come here…
‘Still so easy to catch you off guard rookie.’ The arm is wrapped around your throat and your pulled flush against the concrete chest before you finish blinking. Krauser was waiting for you behind the door which swings shut with a sentencing bang. You feel the heat of his breath on the side of your face as your hands instinctively shoot up to disentangle the arm from around your neck but those muscles are like corded steel.
‘If you wanna pretend you don’t want me to grab you you’ll have to put some effort into getting free.’ The puff of his chuckle right on the shell of your ear momentarily short-circuits your brain. He laughs again as he gropes your chest with his free hand, palming your left pec through your wet shirt. It’s not like you actually want to get out of the rough hold. That’s why you followed Krauser in here after all. Not like you expected a man like him to gently fuck you on a bed of roses… A rough, dirty fuck in the bathrooms was more his style and you press your thighs together as a tremor of arousal whips straight to your pussy.
‘That’s more like it. Not like I don’t remember what a slut you were back then too. Always looking at me with fuck-me eyes. Guess some things never change, eh?’ You shake your head noncommittedly but all Krauser needs to do is shift his hand to press against your crotch and your pointless denial is exposed for the lie it is. Your cargos were wet from the snow but the heat of the fresh soaking was unmistakably of your own making. Krauser chuckles again and gropes your crotch, grabbing your cunt and making your hips shy back into his pelvis involuntarily.
‘Already wet?’ You dutifully shake your head no even if the evidence is literally in the palm of his hand. ‘No? Then what’s this?’ You squirm and dig your useless fingers into the meat of his forearm as he shoves his hand right down your pants. The man doesn’t understand the meaning of taking things slow. There’s no foreplay when it comes to the older man and you gasp as you feel fingers push down your pubic bush. Heat reddens your ears as Krauser pushes your pussy lips apart, rubbing along them until they’re nice and sleek. You curse and thrust your hips forwards a little, spindly zaps of pleasure at the friction lighting up your thighs. Krauser grunts and rubs roughly until you let out a whiny noise then he pulls his hand back to show you how wet his fingers are. You can feel your slutty shame easily enough soaking your briefs.
‘You wanna lie to me again rookie?’ Krauser holds you up against him so you can feel the stir in his pants poking the small of your back as his teeth graze your cheek when he whispers. There’s a threat to his question and it hoods your eyes. A noise very close to a whine breaks free from your larynx as you say you won’t lie anymore and Krauser shows his satisfaction by shoving his fingers between your legs again. You throw your head back, letting it hit the other man’s shoulder as rough pleasure is visited on your cunt. Krauser doesn’t play nice. He strokes and scrubs your sensitive nerves until your gasping, flicking your clit like he wants to beat it into submission.
‘You gonnna cum from a few rubs? Still so easy.’ You don’t care what demeaning name he calls you when your belly is going taught with the ripples of his finger work. It’s embarrassingly fast but you can’t blame your body for caving under such determined aggression. Leave it up to Krauser to finger a pussy like he’s determined to destroy it. And he didn’t even push inside yet… The thought alone makes your knees go weak. You turn to catch his lips in a drunken haze as your first orgasm breaks like glass over you. Jack Krauser’s not the type to kiss however and he turns your face harshly away but you’re too taken with moaning your release in broken hiccups to care. Krauser doesn’t stop rubbing even when your oversensitive nerves begin to burn and you whine. You claw at his hand in speechless desperation and only when you’re gasping for breath, a few tears moistening your lashes, he stops with a smug grin.
‘Was always curious for a taste. Should have done it then.’ You don’t get what he’s talking about and your brain’s still pickling in dopamine. It’s a shock when you’re suddenly pushed away, feet stumbling forwards and arms shooting out to catch your imminent fall. A hand grabs the back of your shirt just in time to stop you from faceplanting on the toilet seat and you want to ask what the fuck gives but you squeak instead as your spun around and shoved to sit your ass on the porcelain lid. You land hard enough to wince and you blink in hurt confusion at the other man. You’re sure he changed his mind and maybe he’s about to trash you for good measure. Wouldn’t take a lot to set off a man like Krauser…
‘Lift your hips up.’ That wasn’t a suggestion and you don’t argue. Krauser hastens to yank your pants down your legs, tossing them aside with your boots. He doesn’t pause before reaching for the waistband of your underwear and it’s all happening too fast for embarrassment to get a foothold. Before you know what the hell just happened you’re half naked while the other man’s grin stretches wide enough to put a shark’s to shame. Your thighs quiver and you begin closing them but a quick glare from the narrowed eyes makes you reconsider. Krauser looks at your pussy like a predator eyeing a tasty cut of meat and if you weren’t already leaking that hunger would do it. The clingy shirt suddenly feels clammy and unpleasant on your skin so you begin to pull it up over your stomach. Krauser doesn’t move to stop you so you toss that to the other pile, leaving you completely naked for the ex-Major to judge. The glint in his eyes hints at approval. The tent in his pants certainly supports your thinking. His gaze drags on your top surgery scars and he licks his lips. If anyone can appreciate scars it’d be him but it’s not like you have a leg to stand on when you’re getting wet just by running your heathy gaze down the deep groove along his face. Something which would disfigure another just makes his sharp handsomeness all the more pronounced, at least in your eyes and considering he’s getting down on his knees to make good on his curiosity your opinion is the only one worth a damn this second.
That shake returns when Krauser puts his hands on the soft skin inside your thighs to push them apart as far as they’d go. You are hyperaware of the heat radiating from his palms, so much so you’re wondering if they’ll leave prints across your skin. Your belly flips as Krauser licks his lips again, eyes fixed on the parted maw of your pussy. It’s hard not to feel a little worried about what he might be thinking but if you were scared he’d leave you, the thought is knocked out of your cranium when Krauser puts his mouth on you. He strikes like a viper, quick and hard just like he did with his fingers. You might have anticipated some licking or teasing before the man filled his mouth with as much of you as he could get in. He’s sucking on your pink slit like he intends to suction out your soul via your vagina and your fingers spasm on the edge of the seat.
You’re holding onto that edge like it’s your sole tether to sanity. You feel your buttocks sliding lower as Krauser hoists your legs up so he can get his tongue deeper inside you. It slips in, wet and thick and oh so toe curling good. You’re blinking rapidly, quickly losing focus of the space around you so you fix on Krauser’s face to stop the world from spinning out of control. You see the hunger in his blue eyes as he slurps up your juices, tongue twisting inside you and pushing your tight hole apart. You reach to rub at your fat clit because it’s begging to be touched but Krauser lets go of your leg long enough to harshly slap your hand away. It hurts but you know the man can do worse if you push your luck so you don’t try to touch yourself again. Instead you begin begging, hips involuntarily bucking into the man’s mouth despite the tight hold on your body. You want something, anything, hot to penetrate you deeper. Your cunt’s drooling for it and Krauser’s sloppily slurping it all up like he’s glutting himself on a ripe fruit.
Finally he yields and gorges himself on a mouthful of clit. The verbal muscle circles and bats at the bud with the same tenderness he used to slap your hand away. It’s setting your nerves on fire and you feel like you might just sizzle to a pile of ashes. There’s enough spillage flowing out of you, you can see it run out the corners of the other man’s mouth and the sounds he’s making as he gulps up your lusty flow are pornographic. He nearly give yourself a concussion as your head smacks the wall, a second hard orgasm stampeding over your sated body. You feel a more tender drag of Krauser’s tongue between your lips, over the mount of your clitoris and through the pubis leading to your navel. It’s almost gentle coming from the battle-hardened warrior and you take the unexpected respite to get your thought to some sort of working order. You know the man’s not done with you yet. His cock is still stiff in his pants and there’s no fucking way Krauser’s the sort to end the night with blue balls. Even if you’re starting to feel the exhaustion mellowing inside your bones after two intense climaxes on top of your tiering battle with the killer blizzard a short while back. You started this and Krauser’s not going to let you off the hook until you finish.
‘Time to return the favour rookie.’ You swallow thickly and your gaze knowingly drops to take stock of the stiff rod bulging against the camo material. Krauser’s fingers fondle the shape of it and you feel your throat spasm sympathetically. That snake will be a tight squeeze but you can handle it. You certainly don’t want to disappoint your old Major, especially when he put his mouth to glorious use for you. You gawk, saliva starting to gather in your mouth, as Krauser rolls the waistband lower down his hips and frees his cock. That excited dread returns with a vengeance and you don’t realize you’re leaning in, a moment away from panting like a bitch to get a taste. Krauser holds the base of the length steady so you can admire the bulbous beauty of it while mentally preparing yourself for the next step. Thick veins throb along the penis and you know the glands will thrum against your tongue. You can almost feel the vibrations running through your jawbone. Large, moist, eyes follow the rivets to the reddened shroom head and you swallow again as you catch sight of the pearly beads gathering at the tip. Looks like you weren’t the only one leaking and it makes you feel hot all over. There’s something deeply rousing about the intimate knowledge your pussy got Krauser in this state.
‘You better be ready.’ You glance furtively up at the other man and nearly choke on your words. The way he’s look at you is borderline feral. You know he won’t go slow once he starts using your mouth to please himself. And he will do exactly that, use you. As if the size of him wasn’t intimidating enough, knowing you’ll be fulfilling the role of a flesh sleeve has the fine hairs on the back of your neck rising. You nod and lean in, hesitancy permeating the air like a miasma, but you called it correctly when you assumed Krauser wasn’t a patient man. You feel the fingers knotting through a fistful of hair first and you know what’s coming so you unhinge your jaw as wide as possible. The gathered precum slides along your tongue in a bitter line and Krauser shunts his cock in until you gag on it. You shove at the thighs and the blond pulls back just enough so you won’t actually choke. Not your first time gobbling cock so you know to adjust your breathing but it still takes a second. Your throat swallows around the length, massaging the pulsating glands and Krauser pushes in again. This time he doesn’t stop and you furiously blink away prickling tears as you do hard battle with your gag reflex. The hand in your hair doesn’t relinquish its hold and from the spreading burn across your scalp you can safely bet you’ll be missing a few strands tomorrow. You hollow your cheeks and do your best to move your tongue but it’s difficult when your mouth is so full. Spittle and precum spill down your chin and more down your throat. You have to swallow to keep from choking on it and the movement of the oesophagus is clearly appreciated so you keep doing it. Krauser’s heavy balls slap against your chin and you feel the full firmness of them. You know when that load gets blown it’ll be a deluge of semen. This whole thing was such a rushed job there wasn’t even a question of wearing protection which is insanely reckless on your part but your sopping wet pussy clearly doesn’t care.
‘I want to spill inside you. You up for that?’ Krauser asks but doesn’t stop fucking your mouth to let you answer. All you can do is blink up at him through thick lashes. Fuck you want that so bad it hurts. More reckless behaviour but just the thought of that white hot seed filling you up nearly has you cumming a third time. Krauser smirks and pulls your head back, shoving you away to sit back against the toilet water tank. It feels hard and cold against your back but you don’t have to think about it for long. You break your eye contact just long enough to moan at the spit shinned cock back in Krauser’s hand, your tongue hurrying to lick some of the cummy mixture from your lips. Your legs open wide like a trap ready to swallow Krauser in one starved bite and he rewards you with one of those wicked grins of his which offsets the scars in just the right way. He leans over you and you feel him guide his cock along your pussy, rubbing it up and down between the petal soft labia in a bit of a tease.
You know your hole’s plenty dilated and winking in annoyed impatience but Krauser lets you sob for it and buck your hips into his pelvis. He’s so close you think he might actually kiss you but he just pins you in place with his glacier blue gaze and you undulate your body, breath gasping out your open mouth when you feel yourself get stuffed. You felt the heat of the phallus in your mouth but it seems even sultrier as it carves you open in one fluid thrust. Your brain is playing catchup as your guts hurry to hug around the length but it’s not like Krauser plans to slow things down now. Your arms shoot out to hug around the man’s neck because you think you’ll be thrown off the seat at the wild pace the blond sets. You don’t think about it as you cling on and Krauser allows it. He fucks into you hard and rips out yell after loud yell until your throat feels raw. You can only hope the owner’s way out of earshot because even if you try to keep it down, your voice is pistoned out with every hammering thrust. Hands grope your chest, fingers pinching and twisting the nipples until you know they’ll be sore and red the next day.
‘Fuck, you feel good…Rookie…’ Krauser’s heathy voice in your ear as you sob your moans push you over the edge. The pleasure had been building inside your belly like an inflated balloon and now it bursts in a starburst of painfully raw rapture. You tense and your spine curves, stunlocking your body against the other man who fucks you through your climax. You’re somewhat aware of liquid heat inundating your channel but you don’t put two and two together yet. You can’t do much more than gasp and loosely hold on as Krauser creams inside you. You’re so full, you’re overflowing and the thrusts slow in their barrage. A handful of ramming shunts more and you feel Krauser still, his own chest decompressing and compressing as he gasps mouthfuls of air.
‘Clean up. Food’ll be ready soon.’ Not all the puzzle pieces are slotted together yet as you lazily watch Krauser disentangle himself from you. All he has to do to get back to semi-presentable is tuck his milked cock back in his trousers and card a hand through his hair. The smell of fresh sex clinging to his body however would put an animal to shame. He pauses to give your sprawled figure a critical once over and he nods. You can only imagine the state of you. Fucked out with cum pooling out your used pussy, plum lips and lust drunk pupils.
‘Think I’ll have you again for dessert.’ Krauser eyes your cunt as he says it and fuck if you don’t feel it stir again. Honestly, you’re insatiable! You murmur something unintelligently but Krauser’s already leaving, convinced his good rookie will do as he’s told.