Gon's Harem System
Chapter 138: Tightness of the girl (18+)

Chapter 138: Tightness of the girl (18+)

She kept going, her lips sliding up and down his rod, wet and relentless.

Gon stood there, eyes half-shut, soaking in every second, the heat of her mouth was perfect, tight, slick, wrapping him in a rhythm that sent pleasure spiking through him.

Each time she took him deep, her throat fluttered around the tip, and he groaned, low and rough, the sound rumbling in his chest, her tongue pressed against the underside, teasing, and it felt like sparks igniting along his spine.

He loved the way she moved, the soft suction, the little noises she made, gags and hums that vibrated through him, it was raw, messy, and he was lost in it, hips twitching slightly as he let her work.

Then he noticed her hand slip down, disappearing under her gown, her fingers found her core, rubbing her clit in quick, needy circles as she kept blowing him.

Her breathing hitched, muffled around his rod, and he could tell she was chasing her own high, the sight, her pleasuring herself while she pleasured him, amped up his enjoyment, a dark thrill twisting in his gut.

Her moans grew softer, needier, and he felt them ripple through his rod, pushing him closer to the edge.

"Get up," he said, voice thick with want.

He grabbed her arm, pulling her off her knees and guiding her to one of the sturdy wooden tables nearby, she stumbled slightly, still dazed, but he steadied her, lifting her until she sat on the edge, legs dangling.

Her gown bunched around her hips as he stepped between her thighs, lining his rod up with her core, he nudged the tip against her, feeling the slick heat, then slid in slow, the sensation hit him hard, tight, wet warmth swallowing him inch by inch.

He groaned, savoring how she gripped him, her walls hugging his rod like they didn’t want to let go.

She was tight, tighter than he’d expected, and there was resistance at first, a little pushback that made him pause.

He shifted, angling himself, working past it with short thrusts until he figured it out, then he sank in fully, bottoming out, his rod buried deep, the feeling was intense, a snug fit that pulsed around him, and he exhaled sharply, relishing the way she took all of him.

Her body shuddered as he filled her, a tremor running through her legs, and then she broke, another orgasm crashing over her, she started shaking, hands clawing at the table’s edge, a high, keening moan spilling from her lips.

Her core clenched hard around his rod, spasming in waves, and he felt every pulse, every twitch as she came undone.

Her head tipped back, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure ripped through her, her thighs quivered against his hips, and her fingers dug into the wood, splintered edges biting her skin.

Gon held still for a moment, letting her ride it out, enjoying the way her tightness squeezed him, the way her shaking body pressed into his, the kitchen was a haze of heat and sound, her ragged gasps, his low grunts, the faint creak of the table under her weight.

He’d gotten her there again, pushed her over that edge, and the satisfaction mingled with the pleasure still throbbing through his rod, he wasn’t done yet, but for now, he just watched her tremble, locked inside her.

Her orgasm faded, her shaking easing into soft tremors, and Gon pulled out slowly, his rod sliding free with a slick sound.

The sensation was exquisite, her tight, wet heat clinging to him as he withdrew, sending a shiver of pleasure through his core, then he pushed back in, deliberate and deep, groaning at the way her walls welcomed him again, warm and snug.

He found a steadier tempo, hips rocking as he began to fuck her, each thrust smooth and firm, the pleasure was a slow burn for him, building with every stroke, her tightness gripped his rod just right, a pulsing friction that sparked through his groin, up his spine.

He loved the depth, the way he filled her completely, her body yielding to his rhythm.

For her, it was different but just as intense, each thrust stirred the embers of her last climax, a deep, rolling pleasure that spread from her core outward.

His rod stretched her, a satisfying fullness that pressed against every sensitive spot inside, making her breath catch, the steady pace kept her on edge, a warm ache blooming with every push, her nerves tingling as he moved.

Her hands gripped the table, knuckles white, and she felt herself melting into it, lost in the slow, relentless build.

He leaned in, lips finding her neck, and sucked hard, teeth grazing her skin, she moaned, loud and needy, the sharp sting blending with the pleasure below.

His mouth worked her flesh, leaving wet, hot marks, and her head tilted back, giving him more, the dual sensations, his rod pumping inside her, his lips pulling at her neck, sent waves through her, her moans rising in pitch.

For Gon, her sounds were fuel, each one stoked his pleasure higher, a smug thrill mixing with the physical rush, he felt powerful, driving into her, tasting her skin, knowing he was unraveling her again.

He kept fucking her, the table creaking under them, the rhythm steady but growing hungrier, his rod throbbed with every thrust, the heat of her core wrapping him tight, and he savored it, the slick glide, the way she squeezed him when he hit deep.

Her pleasure was a mirror, her body rocked with his, hips lifting slightly to meet him, and her moans turned breathy, desperate, the sucking on her neck left a red bloom, and she trembled, caught between the sharp pull of his mouth and the deep push of his rod.

It was overwhelming, a flood of heat and pressure that had her teetering again.

After a while, he slowed, then pulled out completely, his rod slick and hard in the dim light, she looked up at him, a protesting whine escaping her lips, her face flushed with want, eyes pleading.

He smiled, a lazy, knowing grin, and said, "Get down. Time to change positions."

Her frustration was clear, she’d been close, her body still humming, and the sudden emptiness left her aching, but his tone was firm, teasing, and she slid off the table, legs shaky, gown still bunched around her hips.

He enjoyed that look on her, the mix of need and submission, and his rod twitched, eager for what came next.