Chronolust Temptation [18+] High S*xual Content
Ch3.[b] Anal in the Kitchen

The young man, blessed with a lust that only youth could provide and bolstered by powers of the stopwatch, found his penis already beginning to get hard again.

His hands found her hips again, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessive grip that made her shiver. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that sent a jolt through her. “You thought we were done, Tokiko?” he said, his tone laced with dark amusement. “I told you I’d fuck you so hard you’d feel me for days. I keep my promises.”

Before she could muster a response, he pressed himself against her, the hard length of his cock nudging between her buttcheeks. Tokiko tensed, a cold spike of dread cutting through the haze of her arousal as she felt him position himself, the blunt head of his cock pressing lightly against her puckered hole. Her breath hitched, her body instinctively clenching as the reality of his intent sank in.

“Hayao, no,” she whispered, her voice trembling, fragile as glass. “Stop. That… that place isn’t for sex.” Her words stumbled out, raw and desperate, as she gripped the counter’s edge, her knuckles whitening. “No one’s ever… I’ve never let anyone take me there.” The confession slipped from her lips unbidden, a plea wrapped in vulnerability, her cheeks flushing with a fresh wave of shame.

Hayao’s cock twitched at her words, the revelation igniting a primal thrill deep within him. His grip tightened, his fingers sinking deeper into her hips as he leaned closer, his breath hot against her neck. 

“Never?” he rasped, his voice thick with lust, a dark edge of triumph coloring his tone. “Then it’s an honor, Tokiko. I’ll be the first one to fuck this tight little ass.”

She shook her head, her hair falling forward to curtain her face, a futile shield against the humiliation creeping up her spine. “Please, don’t—” 

But her plea was swallowed by a sharp gasp as Hayao ignored her, his hands spreading her cheeks apart with a rough, deliberate motion. The cool air hit her exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his cock as he pressed harder, teasing the tight ring of muscle with a slow, relentless pressure.

Tokiko’s mind reeled, panic and arousal warring within her as she felt the intrusion begin. “Hayao, I’m serious,” she gasped, her voice cracking with desperation. “It’s not… we can’t…” 

Her words dissolved into a choked breath as he pushed forward, the head of his cock breaching her entrance with a sudden, unyielding force. In one swift, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock filling her ass completely.

The stretch was immediate, a burn that tore through her, her eyes watering as she bit down hard on her lip to stifle the scream clawing at her throat. The pain was sharp, overwhelming, a white-hot agony that made her legs tremble beneath her. Her fingers scrabbled at the counter, nails scraping the surface as she fought to anchor herself, to endure the invasion without giving him the satisfaction of her cries. The coppery taste of blood bloomed in her mouth, grounding her as she clenched her jaw, her body locked in a silent battle against the sensation.

Hayao groaned, the sound raw and guttural, the tight heat of her ass gripping him like a vise, far more intense than her pussy had been. He held himself still for a moment, savoring the way her body resisted and yielded in equal measure, the way she trembled beneath him. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he muttered, his voice strained with effort, a dark edge of pleasure threading through it. “So fucking perfect.”

With a slow, deliberate pull, he drew back, the friction sending a fresh wave of burning sensation through the older woman’s nerves. Then he thrust again, deeper, claiming her with a rhythm that was both punishing and methodical. Tokiko’s breath came in ragged gasps, her mind a chaotic swirl of pain and something else—something dark and twisted that pulsed between her legs, making her clit throb despite the tears welling in her eyes. She hated herself for it, for the way her body betrayed her, responding to his dominance even as her heart screamed in protest.

She tried to stay silent, to swallow the sounds rising in her throat, but as Hayao’s pace quickened, it became impossible. Soft, broken moans slipped past her lips, jagged and raw, a blend of torment and ecstasy she couldn’t suppress. Her hands clawed at the counter, her body rocking with each brutal thrust, her breasts swaying beneath her blouse, the fabric clinging to her sweat-dampened skin. The pain began to blur, melding with a strange, unfamiliar fullness that sent conflicting signals racing through her—agony and pleasure twisting together until she couldn’t tell them apart.

Hayao’s hands slid up her sides, rough and possessive, cupping her massive breasts through the fabric and squeezing them hard. 

“You’re doing so well, Tokiko,” he murmured, his voice a dark purr that vibrated against her ear. “Taking me like a good little slut. It’s an honor to take your last virginity.” His fingers found her nipples, pinching them through her clothes, his cock stretching her ass with every deep plunge.

The words cut through her like a knife, slicing into the tangled mess of shame and arousal that consumed her. She felt the shame acutely—the humiliation of being bent over her own kitchen counter, fucked in a place she’d never allowed anyone to touch, by a boy half her age who’d already claimed her daughter. 

But the pleasure was undeniable, a dark current that surged through her with every thrust, her body arching back to meet him despite her mind’s rebellion. And the guilt—oh, the guilt gnawed at her, a relentless ache that whispered of her husband, her family, the life she was betraying with every shuddering breath.

Hayao’s thrusts grew faster, more erratic, his groans louder as he chased his release. His hands returned to her hips, gripping her with bruising force as he drove into her, the wet, rhythmic slap of skin against skin filling the kitchen. 

“Fuck, you love this, don’t you?” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “You’re so tight, so perfect. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”

Tokiko’s only response was a choked sob, her tears spilling down her cheeks as the pleasure mounted, overwhelming her senses. She felt him everywhere—his weight pinning her down, his hands anchoring her, his cock filling her in a way that left no room for thought. Her mind screamed that this was wrong, that she shouldn’t feel this way, but her body surrendered, her walls clenching around him as the friction sparked something electric within her.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear, his breath hot and uneven. “Your mouth is next,” he snarled, his pace quickening, his cock throbbing inside her. “You’re my sex friend now, Tokiko. Don’t forget it.”

The words hit her like a physical blow, sinking into her core with a mix of shame, pleasure, and guilt that twisted together in a suffocating knot. Shame at how easily she’d succumbed, at the way her body craved his dominance even now. Pleasure that coursed through her, raw and undeniable, pushing her toward an edge she couldn’t escape. Guilt that clawed at her, a constant reminder of the vows she’d broken, the trust she’d shattered, all while bent over her own kitchen counter.

With a final, savage thrust, Hayao buried himself as deep as he could go, his cock pulsing as he came, his cum flooding her ass in hot, thick waves. The sensation was overwhelming, the warmth spreading within her, marking her in a way that felt both primal and degrading. Tokiko’s body trembled, her own climax crashing through her unbidden, a sharp, shuddering release that left her gasping, her walls clenching around him as if to draw him deeper.

They stayed locked together for a long, shuddering moment, their breaths harsh in the stillness. Hayao pulled out slowly, his cock slipping free with a wet sound, and Tokiko slumped against the counter, her legs barely holding her weight. Her dark brown hair clung to her sweat-dampened skin, her amber eyes staring blankly at the wall as the reality of what had happened settled over her like a heavy shroud.

Hayao stepped back, zipping up his pants, his eyes fixed on her trembling form with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. “You’re incredible, Tokiko,” he said, his voice low and steady, a promise lurking beneath the words. “I’ll be sampling that mouth soon.”

She didn’t respond, couldn’t find the strength to form words. He turned and left the kitchen, his footsteps echoing down the hall, leaving her alone with the weight of her surrender. The broth on the stove bubbled quietly, the only sound left in the room, as she curled in on herself, her body tingling with the echoes of pleasure, her mind a tangle of regret and submission. She tried to piece herself back together, but the pieces felt jagged, ill-fitting.

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