Stupid Cupid by Salem Sinclair

CHAPTER ONE

 

The brownstone standing on the empty avenue in the town of Grimlake was not unusual in any way.

It blended in nicely with the neighboring brownstones, all of them arching high into the night sky like sentinels on the darkened street, lit only by glowing gas streetlamps. It was, all things considered, remarkably ordinary.

What was happening inside the home, however, was outside of the ordinary. Or, it was when compared to Noelle’s old and dull sex life, anyway. Truly, it was fucking extraordinary, if you asked her. She would forever thank every deity imaginable for the day that Gus von Krampus showed up on her doorstep because, Christ, these orgasms.

Noelle panted frantically out of her nose, so close to her fourth—fifth? Sixth? She was losing count and her sanity—orgasm that her pussy was painfully sensitive. The slow drag of Krampus’s powerful length against her swollen walls was equally pleasurable and torturous. Drool was dripping in thick, slippery globs from her mouth down to the smooth, wooden floor below her, and she widened her stance to avoid the growing puddle. A plastic ball gag sat behind her front teeth, and she rolled her tongue against it, fighting the urge to retch against the sensation.

As she was still growing accustomed to gags, Krampus tended to veer toward the side of caution and they mostly played with breathable or open-mouth gags. Krampus had gifted her with an early Lupercalia gift, and tonight, she had gone up in size from the first beginner ball gag he had used on her. As he’d slipped this larger ball beyond the barrier of her teeth, stroking her cheek the whole while, Noelle had gazed up at him adoringly from where she knelt, trusting him wholeheartedly.

Now, the gag was covered in her slobber and restraining her wrecked, animal-sounding squeals as he pummeled her cunt with first his fist and now his cock. Noelle was light-headed, and whether it was from her position of head down, ass up or from the numerous orgasms, she couldn’t be sure. Krampus held her hips tightly in his grip as he bent her over and fucked her from behind. Her hands had been braced on his thighs, which in his human form were thick with muscle beneath her palms.

When his cock stroked her just right, she jolted against him and let out a whine. With a growl, Krampus shoved her forward until her back was braced against the side of the bed, so hard she was sure the frame would be imprinted on her spine tomorrow. She was neatly pressed in half, the muscles in her thighs and back trembling with tension. Her breasts were crushed tightly against her knees and her belly heaved with strained breaths. Noelle was not a small girl by any means, but she regularly did Pilates and was limber, but all that flexibility did not gift her with the ability to breathe any easier in this position, especially with a ball gag in her mouth.

Her eyes fluttered shut as her breath stuttered in her lungs.

Yes, she thought. Yes, this. Please, this.

Even as the gesture for her safety played on a loop in her brain, even as her lungs ached for a full breath of fresh air, Noelle relished the light-headedness and the edge of fear overtaking her.

One finger slow down, two fingers stop.

Krampus’s thrusts sped up, startling her, and she nearly lost her footing as it slipped in the mess of spittle on the floor.

But Krampus held on tight with his preternatural strength, holding her body still like she was his personal fuck doll, even as he adjusted her hips impossibly higher so he could angle his thick dick directly for that deep spot within her. Noelle grabbed onto his wrists for balance, desperate, aching, and so perfectly full. She pressed up onto her toes; pushed her body to the edge of every precipice she could as she gave herself over, wholly, to the brutal taking of her mind and body.

Between her knees, Noelle could see her abused pussy, swollen and reddened with need, and dripping with her slick even around the plunging plug of Krampus’s dick. Her lover’s cock was thick, nearly as wide as her forearm, and it seemed impossible that he could fit within her, yet there was the proof right before her blue eyes. That tiny hole of hers was stretched wide around him, straining and aching to accommodate, the thin skin of her perineum so delicate-looking she wasn’t sure how it hadn’t torn yet. His ball sack, heavy with seed, hung like pendulums as he pummeled her.

Noelle was nothing more than a wrecked puppet at this point, a fuck toy for Krampus to use and abuse at his every whim to get off, and she reveled in this knowledge, welcomed it. Unbelievable pleasure coursed through her body as blackness danced at the edge of her vision.

Her clit was squeezed tight between her thighs and being stimulated with each thrust. She was so, so close. Squeals were trying to escape her mouth from behind the gag, but without any air in her lungs to make any noise, then she just made pathetic little gasps instead.

Krampus was murmuring filthy platitudes—“Good girl, with that filthy sweet cunt. So fucking tight, so fucking wet. Filthy, dirty girl”—and they lit her up inside. She struggled to stay conscious to hear them, wanted to stay awake to feel the pleasure in her body, but as the final, explosive climax coursed through her, Noelle faded, blissfully, into the darkness.