Resistance

My head snaps up to his, eyes wide with disbelief. "What? STOP FUCKING AROUND!" I try to say as quietly as I can, losing all composure. "Don't you dare do this to me, you bastard!"

A knock at the door interrupts the fray of emotions. "Huh? What are you saying in there? Are you talking to yourself."

It's Ken. He sounds drunk and confused, the doorknob rattling as he tries to enter.

Panic engulfs me, a suffocating, desperate fear. "Uh... I'm cleaning the bathroom!" My voice pitches high, the lame excuse sounding even worse out loud. "Wait a little longer. Go and keep napping!" I try to sound like the cheerful, supportive wife I am. Or was.

Otonari-san grins, delighting in my terror. Ken leans heavier against the door. "Ugh... that's weird... cleaning... This late?"

I'm scrambling for purchase, my limbs flailing for control as Otonari-san pulls down my skirt around my knees, exposing my ass. "HEY! What are you doing??" I hiss.

But the moment is sealed when I feel the hot, spit-slick head of his cock press against me from behind. A silent, choked scream twists in my lungs as he shoves his way inside. I slap my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound, each of Ken's words punctuating the sickening thrusts.

"Elizabeth, what's wrong?"

I brace myself against the door, fighting back the tears. "S-sorry for this," I mumble through the cage of my fingers. Otonari-san grins from behind, pumping leisurely, taking advantage of me with my loving husband mere inches away.

Every thrust is a desperate equation of silence and self-loathing, each slick slide of that man's vile cock inside me a battle against slipping into guttural cries. The door under my clammy palms feels unnervingly thin, too frail to keep the truth from Ken.

"S-stop," I plead, the words muffled into a whimper under the stifling grip of my own hand. It's a pathetic, weak resistance.

Otonari-san's laugh is low and sinister, a hushed chuckle that rumbles from his belly. "That went easily, ne?" His words slither into my ear, seeping into my consciousness like a toxic cloud. His hand comes up with a telltale tenseness in his wrist and, SPANK! The loud smack echoes as a sharp, hot sting radiates across my ass.

Ken's voice is a confused mumble through the door. "What was that? You okay, Elizabeth?" The concern breaks through my daze, the guilt piercing stronger than the physical bite of the slap.

My brain scrambles as Otonari-san's grip tightens around my waist. "Sorry, sorry... I just tripped! Slipped... on the, the bath mat," I stammer, cringing at the implausibility of it all. "Everything's fine, babe. Just cleaning up a little accident."

The slap-and-squelch symphony of our union continues, the wet noise maddening in its volume. It reminds me of a damning pulse—I need to stifle it, somehow. I reach and turn on the sink.

The door rattles, a dull creak against Ken's weight. "Are you sure you're okay, babe?" His voice is closer now. He's right there. He's so close. He's RIGHT THERE.

My heart hammers in my chest, threatening to burst. "Y-yes! All good!" I force cheer into the voice, praying he's too drunk to notice, praying he'll go away. "Why don't you lie down? You should rest before work tomorrow. I'll... I'll take care of this mess."

"Okay..." There's a pause, then a soft thud as Ken's footsteps shuffle away.

Relief is fleeting as another series of thrusts send me rocking forward, my tits, my massively frustrating, floppy breasts, swing and smack the door with heavy, rhythmic thuds.

Plap-plap-plap-plap-plap.

"Huh?" Ken's voice again, his footsteps returning. "What's that noise?"

Damn my ridiculous tits! The thought is a white-hot bolt of self-loathing that sears through me.

"Just... cleaning!" My voice sounds frantic, even to my own ears. "I'm moving things around!"

Otonari-san leans in close, his heavy breath washing over my ear. "Did you get horny from sucking my dick earlier, you slut? Your pussy tells me you did." He emphasizes his point with yet another punishing shove.

My throat tightens around a moan, my insides screaming with unwanted pleasure. "No, oh God, no..."

Ken's shadow sways behind the blurred frosted door, just feet away.

"Go to bed," I breathe, I beg, bunching my hoodie in my fists. "I'll be done soon!"

The door gives another warning creak, Ken's shadow wavering. "I'm all dizzy... You sure—"

I can't answer. Otonari-san's pace increases, the depth of his penetrating lunges crescendoing with my hushed, strangled whimpers. He's owning me, claiming me, turning me inside out, and I'm voiceless, powerless to the motion and sound of my own protests.

His breath is hot and reeking of sake; it washes over me as he pants filth into my ear, affirmations of how 'good' I feel. My insides tighten and flutter around him, a response I can't control, a terrible betrayal that feeds his vile pleasure.

There's a zip, and my hoodie falls open, exposing my bare chest. The freedom sends my breasts into a sickening, wild dance, flopping from side to side with each impact. Frantic, my hands fly to my chest, trying to contain the lewd display—my thick nipples are a hairsbreadth away from printing themselves against the semi-translucent door.

"Uhn... Hnn..."

They aren't quite whimpers, not quite moans, just these choked, desperate noises that breach from my lips. I bite down on them, try to strangle them into submission, but they slip free, sinful whispers that feel like nails in the coffin of my marriage.

"You know what you're doing, right?? Do you even understand??" I hiss through a clenched jaw, my cheek pressed hard against the door's cool surface.

His swollen belly presses against my back, he's leering over my bare shoulder at our reflection in the mirror. "Of course I do," he replies in a voice of triumph and lust. "Doesn't it feel just GREAT, having your pussy wrapped around me while your husband is on the other side of the door? So close?"

There's a sadistic thrill threading through his words, a man drunk on his own dominance.

"Don't be too rough," I squeak, but it's lost—his grip tightens and he pulls me further onto him, his cock impaling me on his grotesque excitement.

SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.

He's relentless, his pace unyielding. I'm skewered against the door, my body undulating with a mechanical, obscene rhythm. My insides ache, squeezing him tighter with each perverse drive. The fat head of his cock probes deep, claiming territory that makes my stomach pitch with guilt and violation.

My husband's voice drifts through the thin wall, a muffled sound in the night that speaks of normalcy and love. "Babe, how long will this 'cleaning' take?" I can almost hear the innocent crinkle of his eyes.

A shift in angle, a tilt of Otonari-san's hips—that's all it takes for him to fuck me into silent gasps, into the creeping edge of a climax that threatens to shatter my will to stay quiet.

"MMMnnhhh... MmnNo... OH..."

A hit of water comes from the faucet outside the door, the reassuring domestic mundanity only accentuates the perversity of the present. I can feel Ken out there, moving around, getting ready for bed, brushing his teeth.

"P- please... you have to stop!" My voice is a whimper, hollow. It's nothing but noise to him, to Otonari-san whose leers and grins only widen with each refrain.

This man—he hoists me effortlessly, tilting up my hips as though they are nothing, as though I weigh no more than a doll. My legs are thrown over his shoulders, my world inverting as my spine presses against the door. I'm flipped and repurposed, his arms like iron bands holding me suspended, his fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs. My breasts bounce, ungainly, perfect soft targets for his thick, greedy hands.

"Sorry, ma'am," Otonari-san mocks, the condescension oozing in his every syllable, "But your pussy is telling me something else."

His breath is hot against my neck; I can feel his damn smug smile as he plummets back into me.

"Look at how you take my cock. Just like a good little cheater, huh?"

"I'm not—ah—cheating!" I protest, but he shuts me up with a kiss—sloppy, forceful. His tongue plunges into my mouth, uninvited and insistent. His hand wrenches at my ponytail, pulling my head back to better devour my defeated whimpers. I'm reeling, caught in the web of sensations, of the flickers of... Oh no, no. This pleasure—it's a lie crafted by the devil himself.

"I bet you're just wet at the thought of your husband finding out, huh?"

I hang there, suspended, my E-cups bouncing with each thrust, my body jiggling obscenely. I should scream, I should fight, but the only sounds that escape me are those pitiful moans, those desperate gasps that betray a pleasure I loathe myself for feeling.

"I did- uh—didn't say th-aaat!" The breathless confession is extinguished beneath the suck and pull of his unforgiving mouth. His cock hammers into me. His breath is rank, the suffocating cloud of sake and his own conceited musk mixing with the steam of the bathroom.

Amidst the horror, I feel it—the inevitable building of something I can't control. No, not this, not with him. Each thrust hits a place deep inside me, a coil winding tighter, my inner walls clenching around him despite myself.

"Ah, feeling it now?" His mockery is a blade twisted in my heart. "You're as responsive as a little slut—so tight and eager for my dick. You love it, don't you? You love being fucked like this."

I feel tears mingle with my sweat, a salty track of self-loathing. "No, I hate it!" I want to scream, but it comes out as a pitiful whimper into his devouring mouth.

And then, there's Ken's voice, muffled through the door. "Elizabeth, are you listening…?"

The real world snaps back into focus. I'm not here, lost in the throbbing heat of my body; I'm here, being used against a bathroom door. The loud slaps of Otonari-san's body against mine are a pummeling rhythm.

"Babe? What's that thumping? You sure you don't need help?"

The guilt washes over me in a suffocating tide. Ken. My Ken. He's just there, worried, tending to a nightly routine that has turned into a farce.

"N-No, I'm fine!" My voice breaks on the lie. "Just some… stuff fell over!" I gasp out, my voice quaking with the strain of maintaining the facade while Otonari-san pounds away at my body. "I'm handling it!"

Ken chuckles, his words slurring. "Okay… you're so strong, babe. I'll be in bed, then."

Otonari-san chuckles into my ear, each thrust punctuated by his grotesque amusement. "Strong, huh? You're not strong, you're my little fucktoy."

Sounds flood the space: the harsh slap of his body against mine, his lewd grunts, my stifled sobs, and the bubbles rising from the sink outside. Ken's voice, a sad monologue, trails off, lost amongst the muffled cacophony of his wife's defilement.

Ken's voice rings out again, sobering this time. "Elizabeth, those noises are getting louder... Elizabeth?"

Otonari-san's hands squeeze tighter. "Ignore him. Let's finish this, ne?"

He hoists me up again, my back slapping against the door. The noises resume—the pounding of flesh on flesh, his vulgar grunts, and the helpless sounds that escape me despite my best efforts to stay quiet. It's all so loud in the enclosed space.

I can only hope my husband is too drunk to get too suspicious.

I'm gasping for air, trapped in the stifling confines of the bathroom, my body suspended in Otonari-san's cruel grip. The heat of his flesh, the sour stench of his body, it's all-encompassing, a vise that tightens with every lewd plunge of his cock into my depths.

The taste of shame sits heavy on my tongue, and slick heat that floods my insides. I'm battered from below, his massive girth spearing me without mercy. His mocking chuckles ricochet off the bathroom tiles, a sadistic soundtrack to my total disgrace.

"Uh, Elizabeth?" Ken's slurred voice punctures the obscene reverie. "When did Otonari-san go home?"

My mind seizes, my breath catches. "W- well," I gasp out, my voice strained and quivering, "H- he went home as soon as you f- fell- ungh- asleep." Each word is a jolt, a shudder, as Otonari-san drives up into me with renewed vigor.

"I see~" Ken sighs, a note of guilt threading through the drunken haze. "That was... rude of me... Guess I'll apologize next time."

You don't need to apologize to him, Ken... THIS GUY should be the one apologizing to us!

A fresh wave of loathing crashes over me, but it's swept away as Otonari-san hoists me even higher, my limbs locked in a full nelson that leaves me dangling, helpless.

The stretch is agonizing, my muscles screaming in protest as my legs splay obscenely in the air, my knees pressed into the hollows of my chest. I'm wide open, exposed to the cruel thrust of Otonari-san's cock as it spears into me from below. Each slap of his hips against my ass is a devastating blow, my breasts somersaulting with each violent jerk.

"Ugh... E-Elizabeth, are you still there?" Ken's voice drifts through the door again, a ghostly reminder of the life I'm betraying with every plunge of Otonari-san's cock.

"Y-yes, Ken!" My reply is a strangled cry, the sounds of slick flesh and lewd penetration echoing in my ears. "Just... I'm s- still cleaning up! MMngh!"

Otonari-san's grip on my neck is iron, his chuckles a barb upon my soul. "Not so loud, Elizabeth. Or do you want him to hear how you're being fucked?"

The thought is unbearable. The sound of my voice, adulterated by the thrusts slamming into me, must be convincing enough. Ken mumbles something unintelligible and moves away, his presence retreating like the last vestige of my dignity.

Otonari-san is relentless, his cock a battering ram that sets a ruthless pace. My body is his plaything, a vulgar puppet jerking on the strings of his lust. The cold, hard tiles of the bathroom press against my bare back and shoulders with every thrust upward.

He's sitting on the toilet, an emperor on his grotesque throne, using my body at his whim. My ass smacks against his thighs, the noise lewd and loud in the small space. I can feel his swollen head parting me with each thrust, my insides squeezing around him in a treacherous dance of friction and heat.

My legs flail above me, my toes curling in the air. They're seeking purchase, something to ground me, but there's nothing—just the cold, mocking stare of Otonari-san as he splits me open from below, my own wet pussy betraying me with each sloppy, squelching thrust.

His hands are firm behind my head, and he's grinning, the bastard, as he watches my bouncing tits in the mirror. My nipples are painfully taut, each slap echoing around us. My skin is flushed with the exertion and the shame, the heat of the moment rising in a flush that spreads from my chest to my face.

"Look at you, dangling like a slab of meat," he taunts, his voice a low growl. "Your big, floppy tits bouncing up and down... it's quite the show."

My cheeks burn hotter and a shameful wail is building in my chest, but it's getting harder and harder to contain. It's not pleasure—it's primal, it's raw, it's the basest form of violation.

*My husband is right over there...*

The wet slap of our bodies meeting intertwines with Otonari-san's filthy chuckles.

*H-he's bigger than Ken... so much bigger than my husband…*

A bubbling hatred fuels a tumultuous warmth gathering at my core. I feel stretched, used, a thing rather than a person in this damning ordeal.

*He's ruining me...*

Ken, sweet Ken, on the other side of the door—his presence is a ragged whisper in my heart, a reminder of the life I must protect, of the love I fear I've now broken beyond repair.

"W-wait," I nearly sob.

"You like my big dick destroying your little housewife cunt? You like betraying your husband on top of this old man's cock?" Otonari-san's voice is a vile hiss in my ears, the insult forcing my body to quiver around his protruding, massive shaft. This gargantuan meat scepter is using the womb where I dreamed Ken's children would grow.

*I won't forgive him...* I seethe internally, but my body betrays me, answering to the primal push and pull that Otonari-san commands so crudely. *He's—using—where—only—Ken—is allowed—*

And my thoughts, damning as they are, are lost beneath Otonari-san's leering mockery. "You're submitting so nicely…" he growls in my ear, his mouth dribbling saliva down my back.

The buildup hits me suddenly, a spiral that clamps onto my spine and wrenches with a fervor I've never known. It's an all-consuming blaze—every nerve ending screams, each inflamed by the relentless assault from Otonari-san's nasty, prodigious dick.

Every thrust turns the key in a lock that should never be opened, every slap against my asscheeks a peal of a bell signifying my fall.

He hoists me higher in the full nelson, suspending me helplessly. My massive tits swing uncontrollably, their humiliating dance mirrored in the grotesqueness of Otonari-san's own jiggles. It's all on painful display.

"K-Ken has never—NGH—done this to meeeee!!!" The cry is wrenched from my throat, but layers of stifling, desecrated rapture blanket the sound.

I'm dizzy, panting, the brink rushing at me with the force of a tsunami. Myself, the woman I know, frays. The orgasm looms, a beast baring its fangs.

"MHMMHH!!! I-I'm—no, NO!!!" Desperation edges my cries as my body tightens around his vile cock—at once the spear and key to my undoing.

It's so—you can't be—Otonari-san, STOP! But the words are just whimpers, throaty and shattered. Even in my mind, they barely form, crumble under the seismic waves of forced ecstasy.

The pinnacle breaches. Words die. Thoughts scatter. Screams ascend, coalescing into one long, animalistic wail.

"MooooAAAIYYYEEEEEEE!!!!" This man I detest, who fills me with his nauseating cock, finally breaks me.

A blinding, white-hot convulsion wracks my body. I'm squirting, a sordid surrender, the pearly liquid streaking grotesquely across the floor.

"You're cumming like a bitch," Otonari-san snickers. "Let it all out."

The tremors continue, the juddering force of them turning the world into a blur. I don't see, don't hear—there's only the throbbing intensity, the surges of my body that ripple outwards in shaking, damning aftershocks.

Otonari-san's grotesque cock, looming large, is the hammer; my unwilling climax, the nail: sealing the coffin of what remained of my honor.

Each gasp, each fluid jet, is a testament to the power he wields—a devastating portrait of a housewife undone.

I hang there, broken, the aftermath a devastation not just physical, but soul-scathing. He's panting, the sound of his satisfaction a cruel harmony with my own ragged breaths.

My compliance is stripped along with my dignity, ground into the bathroom floor where I lie, broken. Otonari-san's endless bulk crushes the air from my lungs, his grotesque form a suffocating mass atop me.

His cock, an invading monstrosity, reams into my tender depths with uncaring brutality. Each slam is a force that grates against my cervix, leaving me gasping, each squelching thrust an utter debasement of my being. His hideous weight pins me, the shock of each of his repulsive lunges pummeling my overwrought flesh.

Lying here, drenched in my own release, a humiliating sheen coats my skin and the floor beneath me. His thick, grimy body looms, a pendulum of repugnance, lurching relentlessly in and out of me. The sound of my desperate moans, my vulgar, sopping squirts, is a cacophony of defilement filling the cramped room.

"Ken—" my thought starts, but ends in an anguished howl, "—N-not inside me, please, I can't—"

The searing, damning pulse of another's semen boiling up inside me is a horror beyond words. The sight of his cum, a loathsome mess leaking from where we're joined, curdles both blood and soul.

"Look," Otonari-san says, laughter in his grotesque panting, "I already creampied you. You'll be squirting semen bubbles."

"HUH???" My mind seizes horrifyingly. Dread clenches like a fist in my chest.

He leans down, pausing only to tweak my nipple, lewd and playful. My breast jostle, sending pert ripples down the underbelly of their heft.

The sadistic, jovial bout of his laughter rings like a death knell, delivering my psyche into abyssal madness.

"Ma'am, your cunt's been twitching so nicely," Otonari-san drones on, lips slick with his own drool, each vile word like a worm burrowing into my core.

"No—no way…"

"It seems your pussy really loves my dick..." His words crawl over me, leaving a trail of smut en route.

My mind and body teeter, sensibility fraying at the precipice. Through gasps and involuntary bodily heaves, I taste the bitter salt of my own tears, my spirit shedding its wings.

His breath heaves, his body hags, each exertion a gluttonous display of his vile lust for my body. The sheer volume of his actions hits me in a devastating barrage: SLAM, SLAM, the liquid nastiness stinging as he desecrates me. My cavity drowns, overflows with his spoiling seed.

"Ugh— Please," the plea is sharp, erratic, "You can't—"

His response is a mocking mimicry, and his thrusts deepen, pinning me, my world narrowing to the singular focal point of my despair. "But ma'am, I've taken quite a liking to your pussy... Never had it this good," he boasts, his sagging jowls quivering.

"A real perfect match," he leers, his fetid breath washing over me. "Come, become my sex friend, okay?"

"N-n-no, I won't—of course not—UGH!" I deny, voice marred and garbled as he slams into me harder, a mocking squelch brimming beneath us.

The invasion never ceases, a constant bludgeoning into my abused cervix. I'm a mewling animal caught beneath him, his cockhead driving ruthless blows deep within, each slam up felt with a sickening clarity.

I lie in filth, a matted, sticky mosaic celebrating my degradation. Each spurt up into my womb is a mortification made flesh, a violation that winds snake-like through my entrails.

"Awww..." He grins, a hideous gargoyle of lust gloating at his handiwork. "Feels good if I do this, right?"

"No," I whimper, my voice a breadcrumb trail leading nowhere. "Don't—"

My compliance is stripped along with my dignity, ground into the bathroom floor where I lie, broken. Otonari-san's endless bulk crushes the air from my lungs, his grotesque form a suffocating mass atop me.

His cock, an invading monstrosity, reams into my tender depths with uncaring brutality. Each slam is a force that grates against my cervix, leaving me gasping, each squelching thrust an utter debasement of my being. His hideous weight pins me, the shock of each of his repulsive lunges pummeling my overwrought flesh.

Lying here, drenched in my own release, a humiliating sheen coats my skin and the floor beneath me. His thick, grimy body looms, a pendulum of repugnance, lurching relentlessly in and out of me. The sound of my desperate moans, my vulgar, sopping squirts, is a cacophony of defilement filling the cramped room.

"Ken—" my thought starts, but ends in an anguished howl, "—N-not inside me, please, I can't—"

The searing, damning pulse of another's semen boiling up inside me is a horror beyond words. The sight of his cum, a loathsome mess leaking from where we're joined, curdles both blood and soul.

"Look," Otonari-san says, laughter in his grotesque panting, "I already creampied you. You're already squirting semen bubbles down there."

"HUH???" My mind seizes horrifyingly. Dread clenches like a fist in my chest.

He leans down, pausing only to tweak my nipple, lewd and playful. My breast jostle, sending pert ripples down the underbelly of their heft.

The sadistic, jovial bout of his laughter rings like a death knell, delivering my psyche into abyssal madness.

"Ma'am, your cunt's been twitching so nicely," Otonari-san drones on, lips slick with his own drool, each vile word like a worm burrowing into my core.

"No—no way," I try to argue, a futile protest against the unholy pleasurings below.

"It seems your pussy really loves my dick..." His words crawl over me, leaving a trail of smut en route.

My mind and body teeter, sensibility fraying at the precipice. Through gasps and involuntary bodily heaves, I taste the bitter salt of my own tears, my spirit shedding its wings.

His breath heaves, his body hags, each exertion a gluttonous display of his vile lust for my body. The sheer volume of his actions hits me in a devastating barrage: SLAM, SLAM, the liquid nastiness stinging as he desecrates me. My cavity drowns, overflows with his spoiling seed.

"Ugh— Please," the plea is sharp, erratic, "You can't—"

"But ma'am, I've taken quite a liking to your pussy... Never had it this good," he boasts, his sagging jowls quivering.

"A real perfect match," he leers, his fetid breath washing over me. "Come, become my sex friend, okay?"

"N-n-no, I won't—of course not—UGH!" I deny, voice marred and garbled as he slams into me harder, a mocking squelch brimming beneath us.

The invasion never ceases, a constant bludgeoning into my abused cervix. I'm a mewling animal caught beneath him, his cockhead driving ruthless blows deep within, each slam up felt with a sickening clarity.

"Awww..." He grins, a hideous gargoyle of lust gloating at his handiwork. "Feels good if I do this, right?"

"No," I whimper, my voice a breadcrumb trail leading nowhere. "Don't—"

SMACK. He slaps my ass, the sting lost amid the engulfing dread. "Too late, beautiful," he breathes between labored thrusts. "Your husband won't know a thing. Don't worry."

My arms lie useless, tension draining from them with each undulation. My breasts flop with each of his heavy, pounding invasions.

"OHH!"

His body heaves and shakes as he perches over me, a loathsome shadow casting darkness on my very soul. His fat, hairy legs are the bars of my prison, his gut a fleshy boulder that pins me, slathered in my own humiliating slickness. The walls of the bathroom seem to close in, turning the space into a tomb where my dignity gasps its last breaths.

"Don't, you can't—you CAN'T—" The strangled plea is futile, a battle already surrendered by my traitorous thighs splayed wide, my hands now limply pressed against his expansive, swaying gut. "I- m- might get-"

The squelching sound of his cock pistoning up into me is the score of my desecration, the thick, churning noise that heralds the storm about to break. He grunts, a guttural, animalistic sound, heavy with lust and the promise of further defilement.

"Ugh... HAA... HAAA...!" His grunts are a symphony of the grotesque, each one a mocking slap against my heart. "OOH! OOH! I'm there, ma'am... I can't hold back!"

In the back of my mind, the words register, but it's too late. He's grunting, his whole frame convulsing, and then it happens—the first vile jet of his semen.

"Ugh… Yes… Going to…going to make a mess inside you…"

With a sickening lurch, he thrusts forward, going balls-deep inside my quivering body. I feel his entire length, every veiny inch of him, buried to the hilt, his pubic hair pricking against my tender, violated flesh. His balls twitch against my backside, a promise of the filthy deluge that's about to be unleashed.

And then, it happens.

With a guttural roar, Otonari-san arches back, his cock pulsing grotesquely inside me. And then, a blast. It's hot and thick, a copious jet of vile fertility that paints my insides with its putrid warmth.

I feel it, a hot, slimy surge that's thick and putrid—like curdled milk. It gushes into me with an obscene squelch, a gurgling rush of liquid filth that splatters against my cervix.

"Ahh…UGHH!" Every grunt of his, every guttural groan, is punctuated by another blast. It feels like a sticky, molten tide surging into me, a foamy, noxious river that my body is made to hold. I feel the contours of his cock, twitching and throbbing, delivering rope after rope of his cum into me.

"Oh, G- god!" I choke out. My insides spasm, evoking a molasses-like ooze to swell within me, coating my walls with its sickening warmth.

It becomes a denser, chunkier surge with subsequent ropes. I can actually hear it, a wet, sloppy squelch as it pumps out of him. It paints my insides, a revolting mixture of viscosity and warmth that churns my stomach.

"More...there's more…" He grunts, his voice strained with exertion. His cock fills me again, another foul jet of his seed sluicing into my depths. It's like my insides are being used as a semen reservoir, my womanhood taking the brunt of his disgusting pleasure.

Phew! The sigh leaves his lips, a sound of satisfaction that makes my skin crawl. He rests on top of me, his heaving bulk pressing me into the cold bathroom floor. His cock is still lodged inside me, now a leaking faucet dripping his cum into me in a slow, torturous drip-drip-drip.

He pulls out, finally. His cock exits me with a slick, obscene noise, a squelch that echoes around the small bathroom. It's followed by an even more disgusting sound.

Ploosh. His sperm, thick, yellowed and foul, starts to leak out. It oozes from me in a slow, lazy dribble, a syrupy river of off-white, chunky male seed that coats my thighs and puddles onto the cold tile beneath me.

"Look at you," Otonari-san chuckles, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Brimming full, aren't you?"

I can only whimper, my body shaking as his cum continues to dribble from me. The smell hits me even harder - a pungent mix of sweat, sex, and the foul musk of an old man's seed.

"I...I…" I try to push out the words, but they stick to my throat.

"Shh," He soothes, a mocking pat landing on my flushed, pulsating ass. His fingertips, caked with my shameful slickness, trace a lazy pattern on my heated skin. "Let's rest a bit, shall we? Your cunt's all sloppy from my seed…"

Reality reels back, still spinning, and I'm sprawled on the bathroom floor, sullied in every sense of the word. Otonari-san, that abominable bulk of a man, stands above me, his vile chuckle hemorrhaging from his throat.

My body lies in a growing puddle, my insides seeping out in steady, gloopy drippings. It's a ghastly mix, thick and crudely textured, like expired mayonnaise with a murky tint. Every weak contraction of my violated cunt squirts out another repugnant spurt of his off-white sludge, mingled with my own fluids in a nauseating cocktail of defilement.

The floor is sticky, a viscous sheen spreading around me. The sight alone, his disgusting mess oozing from my core, is enough to stir the sobbing fit that wracks my broken form. I hate him. I despise this man with a vehemence that's burning in my belly, hotter than the shameful warmth left behind by his grotesque sperm.

"But still... our neighbor... Otonari-san," comes Ken's drunken voice faintly through the door. "I'm glad that he's a nice person. I guess we won't have any trouble in the neighborhood, right Elizabeth?"

My breath catches in a half-sob, half-laugh at the bitter irony. I- I hate him," escapes from me in a breathless murmur filled with scorn and a visceral disgust that's clawing at my throat.

In my periphery, Otonari-san's smirk widens—a gloating sign he's relished my ruin. His shadow stretches over the filthy lament that the bathroom floor has become, with me its centerpiece in resigned collapse.

Ken's voice carries a tinge of hurt surprise. "That's quite an usual thing for you to say!"

I am despondent, my body splayed on the cold, hard floor, lying in a growing pool of Otonari-san's sperm. It's a thick, viscous mess, oozing from my violated depths, the consistency akin to spoiled porridge. Its color is sickly, a pallid off-white marred with hints of yellow, a testament to its grotesque origin.

The odor is nauseating, an unholy mix of the man's musk and the sharp tang of something inexplicably sour. Each splurt that continues to escape me adds to the repulsive lake beneath my hips.

"I- I- hate him," I barely whisper, again.

His hands, clammy and demanding, lift my limp body from the floor. My limbs hang uselessly, a doll broken by rough play. I can feel his erection, vile and persistent, pressing against my sperm-bubbling pussy lips.

With a lewd, overused squelch, he plunges into me again. My insides clench at the intrusion, slick and unwelcoming. My breasts swing in an undignified arc with each of his thrusts, my nipples painfully hard in the cool air.

From behind, Otonari-san's grunts punctuate the stillness, "Fnh! Hmf! Ha ha ahh—nice!! This is really nice..."

I am nothing more than a receptacle, a thing for him to sate his vile urges.

The hopelessness sinks in, a crushing weight on my already burdened chest. How many more times will he do this? How much more can I endure before I shatter completely?

Ken's words, unknowingly cruel, float to me, "But that won't do, Elizabeth. Otonari-san is such a kind person. A nice neighbor."

I can't respond, my mind a churning sea of dread and defeat. Otonari-san's mocking whisper grazes my ear, "You heard what your husband said... Let's all be friendly neighbors, right?"

And then, with a vile intensity, Otonari-san's cock twitches inside me. A fresh torrent of cum floods my already defiled passage. "Whoops, I came inside again..." he chuckles, his voice oozing with contempt.

"Ough...." escapes my lips, a visceral sound, an exhausted moan.