Sustenance is stolen | 15
[ A Few Months Later ]
A few months have passed, and there's no hiding it anymore.
Annie's baby bump is undeniable now, the fabric of her suit adjusted to accommodate it, but the glow on her face ?
She and Homelander make it official.
Their relationship, their child the future of Vought's greatest hero and his perfect counterpart.
The public embraces it instantly. Their fanbase explodes. #Homelight trends worldwide. The internet is flooded with edits, fan art, theories about their baby. The people love them.
However there was one incident that makes Starlight doubt but in the end it reinforces her belief.
[ Earlier that month ]
They stand together on a massive stage in Times Square, the Vought logo shining behind them, the crowd stretching for blocks.
Annie stands proudly at his side, hands resting over her belly, smiling as the crowd cheers for them.
Homelander soaks it in the adoration, the worship.
But then a sharp whistle as a can is flying fast toward Annie's head.
"Slut ! " A man voice bellows from the mob, an incel who found the courage to get out of his cave.
Before Annie can react, Homelander moves. Faster than thought.
His hand snaps up, catching the can midair. His head tilts. Then his eyes burn red.
The laser fires in an instant, cutting through the crowd with surgical precision.
The man's head explodes like a watermelon, bits of skull and brain matter showering the people around him.
For a brief second, silence. Then the crowd erupts.
Not in fear. In cheers. They roar for him. For them.
Homelander smiles, turns back to Annie, offering her his hand. She takes it, blinking incredulously at the mess. Together, they step forward, and the speech continues like nothing happened.
[ Back to the present ]
The country is in turmoil, and the cracks at the top are turning into fractures.
President Robert Singer has always been a stubborn man, but now, his defiance is working against him. The public saw the stumbles, the confusion, the disjointed speeches but he refuse to acknowledge it. Even as his mind continues to slip, even as his body fails him, he cling to power with the desperation of a drowning man.
Victoria Neuman has been patient. She played the long game, whispering in his ear, offering support, waiting for him to step aside willingly.
But that patience run out.
President Robert Singer sits behind his desk, rubbing his temples as Victoria Neuman stands before him. His eyes are bloodshot, his skin pale, exhaustion weighing down every inch of his body. But despite everything, he refuses to let go.
"I'm not stepping down, Victoria. " He growls, gripping the arms of his chair. "I don't care what the media says, what the polls say, I'm still the damn President of the United States." He adds.
"Mr. President, I respect everything you've done for this country. But we both know you're not well." Victoria says as she folds her hands in front of her.
"I'm fine." He snaps.
"You just tried to give a speech this morning and forgot where you were." She answers and arches an eyebrow.
"I was tired." Singer retorts, clenching his jaw.
"Bob… your own cabinet members are concerned. The American people are concerned. And right now, we're facing global threats, economic instability-" Victoria exhales softly, stepping closer.
"I said no, I'm not going anywhere." Singer barks, slamming his hand on the desk.
Victoria studies him carefully, her expression unreadable. Then, she sighs.
"I was hoping you wouldn't make this difficult." She whispers.
The door swings open behind her. A group of senior cabinet members step into the room, men and women who once stood by Singer, now aligning themselves with her.
Victoria turns to them, nodding. Then she places a crisp document on his desk.
"The Twenty-Fifth Amendment, Section 4, a majority of your cabinet has signed off on it." Victoria says smoothly.
Singer's hands tremble as he reaches for the paper, scanning the signatures. Defense. State. Treasury. Homeland Security.
"You can't do this. I'm the President." He rasps, his breathing quickening.
"You were. But we can't afford to wait for you to see reason." Victoria says, she remains calm, almost sympathetic.
"As of this moment, I am the acting President of the United States." She gestures to the document.
Singer looks around wildly, searching for anyone, anyone who might still be on his side. But all he sees are cold expressions qnd and contempt for him.
The room spins. His vision blurs at the edges.
"No!" He whispers. "No, no, no…"
"Don't fight this, Bob. Step aside with dignity." She says.
His hands clench into fists, his body shaking with rage but deep down, he knows there is nothing he can do.
Victoria straightens, offering him a small, victorious smile.
"Thank you for your service, Mr. President." She verbally executes him while using her power simultaneously to literally puts a ticking time-bomb in his head.
[ Vought's tower ]
Homelander stands in front of a massive television screen in Vought Tower, watching the live coverage with an easy smirk.
The news anchors are breathless with the update: President Robert Singer Removed Under the 25th Amendment, Victoria Neuman Sworn In as Acting President.
Everything is falling into place.
A gentle hand rests on his arm. Starlight stands beside him, watching the broadcast with a contemplative expression. Her engagement ring glinting as she intertwines her fingers with his.
"You did it, everything's working out exactly like you planned." She whispers, glancing up at him in admiration. Homelander turns to her, his smirk softening.
"I just can't believe it's actually happening." Annie says, leaning into him.
On the screen, Victoria Neuman stands at the podium, addressing the nation with that carefully curated mix of warmth and authority.
"It is my duty to step up in this time of uncertainty, to ensure stability and security for the American people."
"God, she really sells it, doesn't she ?" John says, chuckling.
"She's not going to let go of power now." Annie says as she watches Neuman closely.
[ Later that day ]
[ Washington, D.C. ]
[ White House ]
Victoria Neuman stands in front of her bathroom mirror, her gaze locked onto her reflection. She lifts the hem of her shirt, revealing the slight swell of her stomach.
Power.
That's what this is. Not just any child, but his child. And he wants it just as much as she does.
Behind her, the bathroom door opens without a knock. She meets his reflection in the mirror, Homelander, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, smirking.
"Admiring your work ?" She teases as he steps closer. She smirks as she watch his eyes glued to her belly. "Coming to check up on me ?" She asks letting her shirt fall back into place.
He leans in, placing his hands on her hips, his breath warm against her neck.
"Something like that. You know I like to keep an eye on my investments." Homelander says.
"It's a baby, not a stock portfolio." Victoria rolls her eyes, even as a shiver of anticipation runs down her spine.
"A very important baby." He corrects, his hands sliding lower.
"A naturally conceived supe born to a political powerhouse. A child with your brains and my blood ? That's something special, Vicki." He adds.
"You want to claim it ?" She says and turns to face him fully. His blue eyes burn into hers.
"It's already mine." He retorts.
"Ours, Homelander. Ours." She chuckles, shaking her head. He doesn't argue. That's a win in itself.
For now.
His hands tighten on her hips, and in one effortless motion, he lifts her onto the cool marble sink. His smirk widens as he kneels before her, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the inside of her thigh.
"Consider this my official congratulations," He rumbles.
"F-Fuck…" Victoria moans, John's head between her thick thighs, lapping at her sopping slit.
Through her convulsions, he nip at her engorged clit. The heady scent of arousal filling the room only fueling his hunger.
Her soft thighs locking his head in place like a vice as her rampant moans reaches new heights.
If he was a lesser man, he'd have likely passed out from the pressure she's putting on his neck.
But he isn't and as his tongue circles her clit the overwhelming sensations sends Victoria to a land of pleasure, John revel in the savory spray of girl cum he receive for his efforts.
"Fuck.. woman you taste... so... good." John praises in between each flick of his tongue, making his way up her soft stomach, finally reaching her succulent lips.
[ Maggie's Apartment ]
Maeve sits alone in her dimly lit apartment, a whiskey glass untouched in front of her. Old habits die hard, but this one has to.
Her hand rests over her stomach, her mind racing with thoughts she never expected to have.
It's his. And she doesn't hate it.
She should. At least, that's what the old Maeve would've told herself. But deep down, she knows the truth, this feels right. The idea of carrying another man's child ? Some lesser, worthless man ? No. That was never an option. It had to be him. The strongest. The greatest. The only one worthy of creating something with her.
A knock at the door. She already knows who it is.
"Come in." She calls, her voice steady.
The door creaks open, and Homelander steps inside, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers before dropping to her stomach.
"So you're really.." He whispers, stepping closer.
"What do you want ?" Maeve says slowly. He ignores the question, his gaze lingering on her stomach.
"You were always so sure you'd never bring a kid into this world. And yet, here we are." Homelander says.
"Maybe I was waiting for the right father and the right moment. " A small smile tugs at her lips despite herself.
Something flickers across his face, surprise, curiosity, then something deeper. He steps between her knees, his hand brushing over her stomach.
" You don't regret it ?" He asks, quieter now. Maggie shakes her head.
"How could I ? This child… it's ours." She lets out a breath, a strange sense of relief settling in her chest.
"Back then, with you… it wasn't all bad. I felt… accepted. Fulfilled. You saw me." She says and meets his gaze. His smirk softens into something dangerously close to genuine.
"Of course I did." His thumb strokes the fabric over her stomach. "You were always meant for more." He adds. She places her hand over his, pressing his palm flat against her stomach.
"And now we have more. The strongest bloodline. The best of both of us." Maggie says.
"You finally see it, don't you ?" He says, a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face.
"I always did. I just never admitted it." She nods.
His eyes glow faintly not in anger, but in something closer to pride or happiness. Then, with sudden certainty, he cups her face, tilting her chin up.
"You and me, Maeve.. This kid, is going to be special." He says.
Her heart pounds, but for the first time, she doesn't fight it. She lets the moment settle, lets the reality sink in.
"I know." She answers and it's the truth, their relationship almost mended even if the child isn't even born yet.
And for the first time in a long time, Maggie feels whole again.
[ Ashley Barrett's Office ]
Ashley Barrett sits at her desk, hands gripping her temples. This isn't just big, it's terrifying.
Not one. Not two. Three.
Victoria. Maeve. Starlight.
All pregnant. All carrying his children.
Her mind races, calculations spinning like a stock market crash. This isn't just power, it's dynastic. Homelander isn't just the face of Vought anymore. He's securing his legacy. The next generation won't just worship him. They'll be him.
The door opens, and the presence alone sends a chill down her spine of arousal and fear.
She snaps upright instantly, hands folded, eyes wide with attention.
"Hey, Ashley. You look stressed. " He says, his tone light, almost amused.
"No, no! Just… processing." She says and shakes her head quickly,
"Yeah ?" He steps closer, tilting his head, eyes gleaming.
He leans down, his face inches from hers, voice dropping to something quieter. Sharper.
"You work for me. Not the board. Not Vought. Or anyone else, fucking get it Ashley ?" He asks her, his eyes staring at her and burning red.
Ashley nods fast, obedient, desperate to show she understands.
"And if you so much as think about screwing this up.." He adds and smiles. Ashley swallows, her stomach twisting.
"You're about to help bring a new age into the world. Be good and you'll have your place in it, high in food chain at that. Especially now that V is running through your veins." Homelander explains to her and she nods again, not daring to look elsewhere than him until he turns and leaves.
Vought isn't just about superheroes anymore. It's about legacy. And Homelander is making sure his will be absolute. The though is enough to send her pussy in a frenzy and she quickly her hand below her panties to finger herself.
[ Vought Tower ]
[ Private Dining Room ]
The private dining room in Vought Tower is nothing short of extravagant, an immaculate white tablecloth stretching across a mahogany dining table set for three. Crystal wine glasses, polished silverware, a candlelit centerpiece all the trappings of a refined evening. But the real show isn't the view or the décor. It's the tension hanging thick in the air.
Homelander sits at the head of the table, utterly relaxed, radiating the effortless confidence of a man who owns the room. To his right, The Deep fidgets in his chair, trying too hard to appear at ease. And to Homelander's left Cassandra, The Deep wife. A desperate attempt to change his sleazy image.
She's a sexy red-haired woman. Her dress hugs her in all the right places, deep red silk draping over her frame like a second skin. Her nails are manicured, her lipstick a perfect shade of temptation.
Black Noir pours their wine, and as soon as he leaves, Homelander picks up his glass, swirling the deep red liquid lazily.
"Well. " He says, his voice smooth, easy, "isn't this nice? Just a quiet, intimate dinner between friends." He adds already regretting to have accepted the invitation when he could be with Starlight.
"Yeah, yeah, totally! Just, uh, you know, bonding and-" The Deep laughs too loud, too forced.
"Shh.." Cassandra interrupts, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his arm without even looking at him. Her eyes are locked onto Homelander, sharp and assessing. "Let the man talk." She says.
The Deep's mouth opens, then closes. He shifts uncomfortably. Homelander smirks, clearly enjoying himself.
"I like her. " He muses, eyes dragging over Cassandra in a way that makes The Deep visibly tense as Homelander look through her red thong. "Smart. Knows when to listen." He adds.
"A good man is someone worth listening to." Cassandra says, lips curving into something just shy of a smirk.
"Couldn't have said it better myself." Homelander raises his glass.
Cassandra clinks her glass against his, taking a slow sip. The Deep, trying desperately to keep up, scrambles to join in, nearly knocking his fork off the table in the process. "Uh, yeah! To leadership, right ?" He says.
Homelander doesn't even acknowledge him. He takes a sip, then sets his glass down, turning his full attention to Cassandra.
"So tell me, what's it like being married to our friend here ?" He asks. and Cassandra hums thoughtfully.
"Challenging." She says finally, in that careful, measured way that makes it impossible to tell if she means it as an insult or not.
"Babe, come on, don't-" The Deep's laugh is nervous now.
"Shh" Cassandra cuts him off again, this time squeezing his thigh just hard enough to make him flinch. She turns back to Homelander, ignoring her husband entirely.
"You know how it is, Homelander. Some men are natural leaders." Her gaze flickers to The Deep, quick, dismissive, before returning to the real focus of her attention. "Others… need a little guidance." She concludes.
"Damn, Deep. You let your wife talk about you like that ?" Homelander grins, shaking his head. The Deep tries to laugh it off, but it's obvious he's floundering.
"No, no, she's just, uh, you know, being playful. Right, babe ?" He turns to Cassandra, practically pleading.
Cassandra smiles, slow and sweet.
"Of course, honey." But the look she gives Homelander says something entirely different. Homelander leans back in his chair, clearly enjoying the spectacle. Cassandra smirks, resting her chin on her hand as she gazes at Homelander.
Black Noir return, setting down the next course with polished precision. And there, at the center of the table, is the special dish, an extravagant plate of live, wriggling octopus, its tentacles curling and flexing as it struggles weakly on the pristine white plate.
The Deep visibly tenses. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, eyes flickering to the plate, then to Homelander, who's watching him with an expectant smirk.
"You're gonna love this, buddy. " Homelander drawls, reaching for a tentacle with his bare hand.
The suction cups cling to his fingers, the octopus feebly resisting as he lifts it.
"Fresh from the tank. Just how you like it." He says, winking at Cassandra.
"I-uh, I actually don't-" The Deep looks like he's about to be sick.
Cassandra hums, plucking an oyster from its shell and sliding it between her lips with slow, deliberate sensuality.
"You should eat, honey. " She says, wiping the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "Wouldn't want to be rude." She adds.
The Deep glances at her, pleading silently, but Cassandra doesn't even look his way. Instead, under the table, her foot slides up Homelander's leg, slow, teasing. Her fingers, delicate and precise, rest lightly on Homelander's thigh, just a whisper of touch.
Homelander notices. But he doesn't react. Not yet. Instead, he keeps his eyes on The Deep, grinning as he tears a tentacle free from the octopus with a wet, sickening rip.
"Open up," Homelander orders, holding the still-twitching limb out toward The Deep. The Deep hesitates, his breathing uneven.
"Please" He whispers, barely audible. "I can't-"
"Eat. " Cassandra interrupts, her grip tightening on his leg.
"Come on, Deep. You love the ocean, don't you ? Show some appreciation" He says and chuckles.
The Deep looks at the tentacle, then at Homelander, then at Cassandra who's still toying with the hem of Homelander's pant leg under the table, running her fingers along the inside of his thigh now, pretending not to notice her husband's growing distress.
Finally, with a trembling hand, The Deep reaches out, taking the tentacle. He brings it to his mouth, trying not to gag as the suction cups stick to his lips. His jaw clenches, but he forces himself to bite down. The rubbery flesh bursts with briny fluid. He chokes it down, his stomach twisting.
"Atta boy." Homelander claps his hands together, grinning.
Cassandra sighs dreamily, swirling the wine in her glass as she leans closer to Homelander.
"A man who listens, so rare these days." She whispers, voice rich with amusement
"Isn't it ?" Homelander chuckles, finally turning to her fully. His hand going under the table then under her dress. Pushing her thong aside and teasing her moist pussy lips.
The dinner continues, but The Deep is barely eating. Every bite of octopus is forced, his stomach twisting with every chew.
Meanwhile, Cassandra is more engaged than ever, hanging onto Homelander's every word, laughing at his jokes, touching his arm with just a little too much familiarity.
Homelander plays along, letting her stroke his ego, soaking in the attention while barely acknowledging The Deep's presence. Every now and then, he throws in a subtle jab something about real men, about strength, about how some men just aren't built to be on top.
Cassandra eats it up. Under the table, her foot continues its slow, teasing path up Homelander's leg. Her fingers trace idle patterns on his thigh, growing bolder with every sip of wine as she lightly touch his dick through his suit.
At one point, Homelander leans in toward Cassandra, his voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper.
"You know.." He muses, eyes flicking briefly toward The Deep before settling back on her. "I do like a woman who knows what she wants." He says.
"Do you, now ?" Cassandra's lips curl into a knowing smile. Homelander chuckles, shaking his head like he's amused by how easy this is. Then he stands, smoothing out his suit.
"Why don't we continue this conversation somewhere… more private ?" He says to them.
Cassandra is already rising from her seat, eager. The Deep lurches forward slightly, like he's about to protest, but Homelander just pats his shoulder firm, patronizing.
"You too, buddy." Homelander grins, guiding Cassandra toward the other room with a hand resting low on her back.
"I want you to watch." He says to The Deep who swallows hard, his face draining of color as he stares after them. And then, with no real choice, he follows.
"I'll fuck your precious wife's pussy. " Homelander says as he saunter over to their bed.
Cassandre is biting her lips and clenching her thighs together. Creamy nectar dribbling down the sides of her legs from Homelander fingering during all the dinner.
"Your pussy is on fire right now, and do you know why ?" He asks her while The Deep edge closer to the wall.
"It...you're w-"
"It's because your instinct is commanding you to accept me as your mate," He says the male in a much darker, sensual tone, sending shivers down her spine. "Allow me to prove it." He adds.
Cassandra let out a breath she doesn't know she's holding when he tilt up her chin with a finger. It's hard to meet his dominant eyes, but when she does , hers dilate. He leans towards her, the single finger on her chin slowly following the curve of her throat. His touch is firm but light, and her skin seems to tingle afterward, everywhere he touches. Their noses are almost touching, and her breath is hitching, goosebumps spreading on her bare arms.
And then his fingers tangles up with hers and their palms meet. It's as if all her senses re-allocated her energy to feeling Homelander's hand in hers. His hand matches his hulking frame. It's much bigger than hers, but his fingers embrace the back of her hand with surprising warmth and strength.
"Feel it ?" Homelander asks her and she nods.
"Want me to kiss you ?" He probe, glancing at the Deep from the corner of his eye, once again reveling in his horror.
His free hand fly into her luscious red tresses, and her ruby lips starts quivering from the trickles of pleasure running through her body.
"Yes." She answers.
His hand leaves hers and smoothly traverse her body until his thumbnail grazes ever so slightly around her already painfully hard nipple. She lets out a mewl while arching her back. And then his lips descend on hers. She tries kissing him back, but he decide to pull back.
"Cassandra.." The Deep stammer, realizing that the Homelander is effectively breaking his wife's defenses.
"You need a real man. " Homelander says as he curl a few strands of the woman's hair in his fist and yank her up, entrancing her with his intense blue orbs.
"A man who can fuck the living shit out of you, but also treat you like a queen. What you don't need is a buffoon who hasn't the slightest idea how to take care of his woman." He says to her.
"Cassandra !" The Deep finds the courage to call her out.
"Pipe down." Homelander says glaring at him, his red eyes threatening to cut off an arm or a leg.
Homelander then get her hands off, takes off his suit then proceed to sit down, his cock pointing proudly up at the ceiling as he rest his hands on either sides of him.
Ultimately, she makes her decision, her red dress pooling at her feet, her thong and bra following, then she makes a leap for the Homelander.
Planting her left foot on his thigh, she slowly grab his shoulder and loop herself around him. Her tits jiggling inches away from his chest.
He brings his hands around her, and looks over her shoulder to make eye-contact with the man he's cuckolding. He then begins giving the buxom redhead a full-out deep tissue butt massage, kneading her cheeks with his strong fingers, meeting the resistance of the lifetime of tension that she holds confined in those muscles.
She moans through his groping, and he can see the very visceral reaction her body have to his touch and sense the anxiety she holds in her glutes. With his relentless kneading and pulling he turns raw, stiff dough soft and pliant. Soon enough, he feels the weight of so much pent up anxiety begins to slowly seep out of her from behind.
"You'll have trouble sitting when I'm done with you. " He murmurs as he swat her across her wobbling buttocks, making her squeal.
"As much as I'm enjoying your ass. Bring these jugs here." He orders her.
Homelander smother himself in the valley between the woman's tits, inhaling deeply, whiffing the sweaty but sweet womanly scent. Precum starts oozing from his dick, his cock throbbing as it senses the squirming girl atop him. Tilting his head, he press his cheek against her heavy tit like a newborn sloppily leaning into its mother's chest. From the corner of his eye he can see the cuckold servant shifting uncomfortably.
"O-oh..." Cassandra mewls as she closes her eyes, reveling in the way he's kissing, licking and blowing little gusts of cold air and warm moist breath on her. She ache before his mouth even touches her left nipple, and when he does, it seems like every nerve in her body runs right through it. She's almost delirious with pleasure that juices stars oozing down her pussy.
An arm is looped around her, holding her steady as he swirls his tongue around one nipple while playing with another using his thumb and forefinger. She whimpers erotically, bucking in surprised at the intensity of his touch.
"Mmhph!" Comes the deep wife's muffle cry as he suddenly slam his lips against hers. This isn't the slanty, sensual kiss he gave her earlier. No, this one ks wrathful. Lustful. Greedy.
He's now seizing her wrists behind her back with a single hand while his free hand is roughly massaging her breasts. Her hair sway from side to side as a burst of pleasure spread through her so unexpectedly that she whimpers in a voice she don't even recognize.
He drag a finger along her cheek and tuck a stand of her hair behind her ear as she swallow his spit, their tongues clashing.
Leaning forward, she captures his lips in hers, smooching him with a tenderness that makes her heart race a million miles a second. She stares into his eyes, again feeling him subjugate her womanly instincts. Her breathing is labored when she pulls away and slowly hop back onto the bed.
Getting on her knees, she widen her legs and pulls her derriere apart, presenting her treasures to him like an offering.
"Please take me, Homelander." Cassandra whispers, her eyes half-lidded as she glances at him from over her shoulder.
Luscious, pink flower petals are peeking out of the pouch of her vagina. The two parted doughy cheeks of her bottom looka mighty tasty all tightly gripped by her dainty hands.
"Deep" Homelander says victoriously as he dig his kneecaps into the bed, making the springs squeak under the pressure. "I'm going to be having my fill with your wife, so feel free to jerk off." He adds.
Lips rains soft kisses along Cassandra' exposed flesh, rising her skin in a sea of little bumps of nervous excitement. The blond-haired god is smooching every inch of each of her globes, getting dangerously close to the crack but never breaching it.
Soft kisses become ardent licks, laving her flesh in tender affection as a tingling feeling begins to build in her stomach.
Her back arche against him involuntarily, her hips thrusting outward toward his hand. Then his tongue spears through her and she's forced to drop her hands from her butt cheeks so she can grip onto the sheets.
"Fuck!" Aside from her shout of pleasure, wet, squishy noises were are echoing as he abruptly jam two fingers inside her.
His fingers curve slightly, and her eyes widen as a new sensation somersault through her body. Her breath begins to come only in gasps and left with moans.
There is pandemonium in her vagina as he milk her with such a convoluted rhythm that he keeps her on her toes the entire time. She dig her nails deeper into the mattress, staring up and seeing her husband pleading for her to come to her senses. She moans out as Homelander get his tongue so far up her cunt that his chin squash against her clit.
"I'm cumminggg!~" Cassandra growls out.
The Deep curse himself as he stroke his dick through his pants. Homelander is making his wife convulse like a cheap whore. A wicked rush of pain and pleasure shots through him to see her squirting so much juices.
Basking in the aftershocks of residual pleasure, Cassandra wiggles her glorious derriere.
The dewy petals of her cunt are now brushing against hia manhood.
Homelander pushes forward, and her labia begins spreading out as the lips form an inviting circle, adhering wantonly to the flared contours of his cockhead.
Visible goosebumps are running up and down her back. Ripples are running through her butt cheeks. Her arms are fanned out, her fingers shaking. A bright illumination covered the redhead as she continued to get stretched by Homelander's dick.
The Deep wife's clingy cunt feels like a million little fingers caressing his cock, squeezing and pulling at him, the hot oily tissues sheathing him in an incendiary tunnel that feels hot enough to heat a cold home. He flexes his hips, forcing another inch or two into her, looking down to see those vivid pink labial lips stretching obscenely around his tremendous girth.
"Such a fucking tight pussy!" He compliments her, slapping her ass, leaving a red mark on her asscheek.
Her whole body is on fire with wanton need, and as he goes deeper, she thinks she's going to pass out as millions tiny jolts of electricity that starts deep in her cunt shoots to every nerve ending of her body. And now she's twerking on bks cock as he fuck her ever-so slowly. Each time he pulls out of her, she can see her pussy lips being pulled rather indecently. When he push back in, they seem to collapse in on themselves. A harder thrust from him, and she starts creaming down his shaft.
Panting heavily, she slumps forward, only for him to clamp his hands on her hips to keep her upright.
With a revived vigor, she begins grinding her childbearing hips against him, her tits jiggling so hard that her nipples starts to ache.
His heavy balls swing back and forth, slamming against her buttocks. The base of his shaft grinding up against her, making delicious contact with her swollen clit, driving her wild.
She can feel every ridge and vein on his dick as every muscle in his body seems to come alive, working in unison to drive his hips into hers.
She's whimsical by the time he grab a handful of her scrumptious ass in both his hands and begins to squeeze her cheeks, pulling her pussy tighter against his dick.
The Deep ego is shattered as the room reverberate with their obscene symphony. That shaft now littered with a white sheen of what has to be his wife's secretions. Visible goosebumps are running down her spasming legs. Her buttocks are redder than her hair with how viciously she's getting fucked.
He's broken from his trance upon hearing a grunt as Homelander glutes tighten and her toes curl. It's clear to him that Homelander is exploding deep into her womb. He truly, wholly, and completely fucked her.
---
Next chapter is hit or miss.