5
He finally put his mouth on her cunt.
He licked her open with long, flat strokes, cleaning the mixture of her slick and his earlier loads.
The taste was heavy—salt and musk and the lingering heat of sex.
He sucked her clit between his lips and worked two fingers back into her, slow and deep, feeling how soft and used she still was.
Jody’s hips rolled up to meet him. The leather of the couch creaked under her.
Chase didn’t rush. He ate her like he had all night—thorough, possessive, mapping every fold with his tongue while his fingers curled against the front wall. When she came it was with a broken, tired moan, her pussy fluttering around his fingers and a fresh rush of wetness coating his chin.
Only then did he rise, shove his jeans the rest of the way off, and climb onto the couch with her. He settled between her open thighs, face to face, and dragged the head of his cock through her soaked folds.
“Look at me,” he said.
Jody’s eyes met his. He pushed in slowly, watching every shift in her expression as her cunt stretched around him for the third time that night.
The angle was deeper like this. She felt every thick inch, every ridge, the way the head pressed against her cervix when he bottomed out.
He held still once he was fully seated, giving her a moment to feel how full she was, then started to move in long, rolling thrusts.
The couch springs complained softly. The wet sound of her pussy taking him was filthy and intimate in the quiet room. Chase kept his eyes on hers the entire time, one hand braced beside her head, the other sliding under her lower back to tilt her hips so he could get even deeper.
“You feel that?” he asked, voice rough. “How perfectly this cunt opens for me now? I’ve been stretching you under every new piece. Training you to take me. Next time I mark you I’m going to do it while you’re already full of me. Want to feel my cum leaking out around the needle.”
Jody moaned, nails digging into his shoulders.
He fucked her slower, deeper, grinding against her clit on every downstroke.
The dual sensation of his cock dragging over the sensitive front wall and the friction on her swollen clit built steadily.
She came again with a quiet, shattered sound, walls clamping down around him in rhythmic pulses.
Chase followed her over the edge with a low groan, burying himself to the root and flooding her a third time—hot, heavy pulses that had nowhere to go.
He kept thrusting through it, short and deep, until she felt overfull and the excess began to seep out around his shaft.
He stayed inside her afterward, softening only slightly, forehead pressed to hers while they both caught their breath.
Morning light filtered through the small high window.
Chase woke her with careful fingers checking the edges of the new inner-thigh ink.
The skin was still pink and raised, but clean.
He smoothed a thin layer of ointment over both pieces, then let his fingers drift inward and push into her again—slow, testing how open and slick she still was from the night before.
“One more,” he said, voice rough with sleep. “Before I let you leave.”
He rolled her onto her side, lifted her top leg, and slid back into her from behind in one smooth thrust.
The angle was deep and intimate. He fucked her in lazy, thorough strokes, one hand reaching around to rub her clit in tight circles while the other rested possessively over the fresh ink on her hip.
The wet sound of their bodies filled the small room.
Jody came first, quiet and shaking; Chase followed with a low sound against the back of her neck, pumping another load into her while the morning light painted the new tattoos.
Only after that did he finally clean her up, re-wrap the inner-thigh pieces, and help her dress. He walked her to the door with a hand on the small of her back, kissed her once—slow and deep—and told her the final appointment was in three weeks.
“The last piece goes right along the edge,” he said. “Where thigh meets this pretty cunt. You’re going to show up already full of me. And when the machine stops, I’m going to keep you here until you can’t take any more. Clear?”
Jody nodded, still feeling him with every step.
The three weeks stretched tight and filthy.
Week 1 Late-night texts became ritual. Two fingers. Deeper. Think about the needle right against the edge of this cunt while I fill you. Stop before you come. Send me the photo.
Jody obeyed every time—legs spread in the dark, fingers slick and shining, the healing inner-thigh pieces still tender when her thighs flexed. She sent the proof. He replied with exactly how he planned to stretch her under the final mark.
Week 2 – quick visit She showed up at the shop twenty minutes after closing, already wet from the drive.
Chase locked the door, bent her over the front counter, shoved her leggings down, and pushed into her in one hard thrust.
He fucked her in short, deep strokes—just enough to remind her body who it belonged to—then pulled out and came across the soft skin just above her pussy, smearing it in with two fingers before sending her home with his cum drying on her.
Week 3 – the night before Tomorrow I finish what I started.
You’re going to walk in already full of me.
I’m going to work the last piece while you’re dripping, and when the machine stops I’m going to breed this cunt until you can’t take any more.
Sleep with your hand between your legs. Think about it.
She did.
The final night the shop was already dark when Jody arrived. Chase met her at the door, locked it behind her, and walked her straight to his station without a word.
“Clothes off. Everything.”
She stripped. He didn’t reach for the machine first.
He shoved his jeans down, sat her on the edge of the chair, and dragged the thick head of his cock through her already-slick folds.
One slow push and he was buried to the base.
Jody moaned at the stretch. He fucked her in deep, rolling thrusts for several minutes—long enough to coat himself in her, long enough to leave a heavy load inside her—then pulled out.
A thick trickle of cum followed, running down to the chair.
“Stay open,” he said. “Don’t wipe anything away.”
Only then did he snap on gloves, wipe the softest skin where her thigh met the outer lip of her pussy with green soap, and shave a precise, narrow strip right along the edge.
The razor was cool against the most sensitive skin she had.
His free hand rested on her mound, gloved thumb occasionally brushing her clit just enough to make her hips twitch and more of his cum leak out.
The machine hummed to life.
The first lines were the most intimate yet—right along the soft junction, so close that every vibration traveled straight into her cum-filled cunt.
Chase worked with absolute focus, but his free hand never left her for long.
Two fingers slid into her while the needle moved, pushing his own cum deeper, curling against the front wall, then spreading her open so he could watch her clench and leak around nothing.
He kept her right on the edge for the entire session.
Whenever her breath hitched and her thighs started to shake he pulled his fingers free and returned to the tattoo, leaving her dripping and desperate.
By the time he finished both sides, the new pieces framed her pussy like a final claim—dark, bold lines that stopped just short of her outer lips, the skin raised, pink, and hot. Cum and slick had run down onto the chair in glossy strands. Her clit was swollen and shiny, neglected and throbbing.
Chase set the machine down, peeled off the gloves, and looked at the open, used mess between her legs.
“Last mark,” he said, voice rough. “Every sensitive inch of this body now has my work on it. And you’re still full of me.”
He shoved his jeans down again. His cock was thick and hard, the head already slick.
He stepped between her spread thighs, hooked her knees over his arms, and dragged her to the very edge of the chair.
The blunt head notched against her entrance—already soft and open from earlier—and he pushed in with one slow, deep thrust that buried him to the root.
The stretch drew a broken sound out of her. He was thicker like this, the angle perfect for watching the brand-new ink flex with every movement. He started to fuck her in long, deliberate strokes, eyes locked on the fresh lines and the way her cunt stretched around his shaft.
“Look at that,” he muttered. “Final piece still burning and you’re already taking me to the hilt. This is what all the bigger sessions were building to. So I could watch my ink while I pump this cunt full one last time tonight.”
He fucked her deeper, grinding against her clit on every downstroke.
One hand stayed under her knee; the other rubbed tight, wet circles over the swollen nub.
The dual sensation built fast and mean. Jody’s orgasm hit hard—her pussy clamping down in rhythmic waves that milked his cock, a fresh rush of wetness spilling around him.
Chase followed with a low, guttural groan, burying himself to the base and flooding her in thick, heavy pulses.
He kept thrusting through it, short and deep, working every drop deeper until she felt overfull and the excess leaked out around his shaft in steady drips.
He didn’t pull out.