Free Web NovelChapter 519: Chapter 519 - Somewhere You Never Have Been To
The last thrust came like a verdict.
PHAAAAACK—
Both women seized.
Their linked hands tore apart from the impact — the knuckle-white grip finally breaking, their fingers splaying against the rock, their whole bodies lurching forward with the force of the final stroke like two trees hit by the same axe.
"KYAAAAAAANGHH~!!!!"
"AAAAAANGHH~!!!!"
The sound hit the treeline.
It hit Edda in the chest.
She felt it — physically felt it, the way you feel a bell struck close, the vibration conducting through the branch under her feet and up her legs and into her sternum. Her tits swayed with it, the fabric of the skirt pressing forward against her nipples, both of which had been stiff since the second chorus of screaming and were not getting less so.
She thought: ’wait.’
She thought: ’she would tear apart.’
She thought it looking at Rika’s eyes going completely white, at the other woman’s tongue pressing out of her open mouth, at the way both their bodies shook with the full-body tremor of women who have received something at the absolute ceiling of what a nervous system can process and are currently somewhere on the other side of that ceiling with no map.
And then Raven pulled out.
The withdrawal was slow.
He drew back with the deliberate pace of a man taking inventory — the full, glistening length of his cock emerging into the moonlight, crimson and thick and impossibly real in the silver light, the two women on the rock shelf making sounds that were no longer screams but the deep, helpless, continuous moan of bodies still processing what had just left them.
Both women slid down the rock.
Not falling. Sliding. The slow, unavoidable descent of two sets of legs that had used everything they had and were now submitting to gravity with the complete honesty of bodies that have nothing left to pretend with.
They landed in a heap at the rock shelf’s base.
Rika’s face against the stone. The other woman’s cheek against Rika’s shoulder. Their insignias still glowing pink through the waterfall mist, pulsing slower now — the afterglow of marks that had been run at full capacity for hours and were returning to baseline.
Edda watched them land.
She looked at their bodies.
The bruises from the rock. The marks on their hips. The wet mess of them — seed and water and the evidence of everything the afternoon and evening had done to them, drying in the moonlight into the evidence of comprehensive ruin.
They were breathing.
Slowly. The deep, unconscious breathing of women who have fallen asleep from overwhelm before they finished falling.
Edda looked at him.
He was standing.
Both feet on the rock shelf, the waterfall behind him throwing white mist across his shoulders, his cock out — still hard, still full, the glistening evidence of the last two hours catching the moonlight in a way that she was absolutely not looking at.
She was looking at it.
He turned.
Not toward the women.
Toward her branch.
His eyes found her in the canopy with the same ease they had found her before — the same calm, unhurried attention, the same complete lack of surprise.
He wrapped one hand around his cock.
He stroked it.
Once. Slow. His fist moving from base to head with the unhurried authority of a man who is not performing and is not in a hurry and has his attention on something specific.
He looked at her.
"I was waiting for you," he said.
His voice carried through the mist and the waterfall noise as if the distance did not apply to it.
And then his hips moved.
A single, controlled thrust of his fist — not at her, not yet, just the motion — and his cock pulsed and released and what left him was not a small thing. freewebnøvel.coɱ
The load launched.
Four meters of open air between the rock shelf and the branch where she was standing.
It crossed them.
The first rope hit her thighs.
The second caught her abdomen — above the skirt’s waistband, the warm impact of it against the bare skin of her stomach making her breath exit through her teeth in a sound she had not intended to produce.
"Hh—"
The third landed across her tits.
Through the skirt fabric. The heat of it conducting through the silkiness, the warmth pressing against her nipples with the precision of something that had been aimed.
She looked down.
Her thighs. Her belly. Her tits. The evidence of a man who had just been with two women for hours and had still managed enough to cover a target at four meters with the accuracy of someone who does not miss.
She stood very still.
The last drop gathered at the head of his cock.
He was looking at her.
He let it fall.
Watched it.
"I have prepared something bigger for you," he said.
She opened her mouth.
She did not know what she was going to say.
She did not find out, because the moment her mouth opened, his cock moved.
Not him. His cock. freeweɓnovel.cøm
She watched it happen.
The tremor started at the base — a deep, visible pulse moving through the shaft, the veins along its length standing out harder than before, the green of them pressing against the crimson skin with the internal pressure of something expanding. The head flushed darker. The length pulled against its own weight, lifting, the arc of it pressing upward as the girth thickened — widening, the circumference increasing by degrees that her eyes tracked with the complete, horrified attention of a woman doing involuntary measurements.
It was already — she had looked at it earlier, from the branch, and she had registered what she registered and filed it.
Nine inches.
That was what she had filed.
Nine, thick, completely impossible, she had thought, and then she had thought ’too old for this’ and looked at the two women as evidence and felt her thighs press together.
She watched it become ten.
She watched it become eleven.
She watched the arc of it change as it reached twelve — the full horse-cock length of it standing in the moonlight like something that had been waiting for a reason to exist at its full extent, the head a dark, flushed, blunt mass at the end of a shaft thick as a man’s forearm, the whole thing curving upward in the particular arc of something that has been sized for a target and knows it.
The arc told her things.
The arc told her about the women on the rock shelf. About how many of them it had been inside. About what it had done to them. About the fact that it was currently ’larger than what it had used on them’ and it was currently pointing at her.
Her body produced a sound.
She heard it leave her own mouth before she had processed producing it.
"Hah—"
A breath. Small. The involuntary exhalation of a woman whose body has just sent a message to her brain and her brain has received it and everything in between is now running at emergency frequency.
Raven looked at her.
"Come down," he said.
His voice was warm. Not threatening. The particular warmth of an invitation that already knows the answer.
"Let me take you somewhere you have never been before."
