Their mouths met in slow, lingering kisses, hands roaming each other’s bodies, not ready to let the heat fade completely. Jonathan’s big palms explored every inch of Penelope—her soft waist, the arch of her back, the curve of her hip—while she stroked his chest, fingers tracing the shapes of his muscles as their bodies finally relaxed.

He held her close, still moving inside her with gentle, lazy thrusts, savoring every aftershock, every flutter of her spent body. But eventually, he drew back, sliding from her warmth with a soft, slick sound. Penelope gasped at the sensation, hips instinctively lifting, a little moan escaping as she felt his release slowly trickle from her, hot and wet against her thighs.

Jonathan paused to take in the sight, his eyes dark with admiration and hunger. He reached down, letting his thumb trace along her messy, swollen folds. “God damn, baby… You look incredible. Seeing your pussy full of me like that—so fucking sexy.”

Penelope flushed and shivered, her body aching in the best way, loving the way he looked at her. Jonathan bent to kiss her again, this time softer, a sweet brush of lips and tongue.

“Come on,” he murmured, helping her sit up, his hands gentle on her waist. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He scooped her up with effortless strength, carrying her toward the stairs, both of them still tangled in each other, still laughing and kissing softly as they made their way upstairs.

The bathroom light was warm and welcoming as Jonathan set Penelope on her feet, reaching for the shower and turning on the water. Steam filled the room as they stepped under the spray together, their bodies pressed close as hands and mouths found new, tender ways to explore—washing each other, trading kisses, letting the last traces of their night wash away, but never losing that glow of secret, shared satisfaction. The water beat down on them, washing away sweat and sin but not the heat lingering between their bodies. Jonathan moved behind Penelope, his hands gliding over her slick skin as he massaged her shoulders, working away the last of her tension. She relaxed into his strong grip, her eyes fluttering closed, letting herself be held and cared for.

He leaned forward, lips close to her ear, voice husky with a smile. “What are you going to do when your husband gets home?” he murmured, his thumbs kneading circles into her tight muscles.

Penelope only sighed, a soft, shameless sound, and shrugged. “I’ll just tell him I was needy,” she said, voice half teasing, half dreamy. “That’s the truth, isn’t it?” She tilted her head, inviting his mouth to her skin.

Jonathan chuckled, planting slow, tender kisses along her neck and down to her bare shoulder. “Mm. Needy doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he teased, his voice growing low and dark as his lips traveled lower.

He trailed his tongue down her spine, hands caressing her sides, hips, then dropping to his knees behind her. The shower spray made her glisten as he kissed the small of her back, then lower, parting her thighs gently, admiring the way her body responded to his touch all over again.

Jonathan pressed his mouth to her warm, swollen folds, letting his tongue explore slowly, tasting her, savoring the mix of his own release and her arousal. He groaned in appreciation, the sound vibrating against her sensitive flesh.

“God, Penelope…” he murmured between slow, teasing licks, “you taste even better after I’ve filled you up. Sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”

He circled her clit with his tongue, drawing soft, desperate moans from her, his hands gripping her hips to keep her steady as he worshipped her all over again—slow, deep, and absolutely thorough.

Jonathan’s tongue moved with slow reverence, licking and sucking gently, careful with her swollen, sensitive flesh. He savored her taste, taking his time, every motion patient and thorough. His big hands kneaded her soft, fleshy ass, pulling her hips back just enough so he could bury his mouth deeper, the water streaming over his shoulders as he worshipped her.

He groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her core. “God, you taste so fucking good… I could stay here all night, baby.” His voice was thick with satisfaction and hunger, his lips and tongue alternating between lazy flicks and tender, open-mouthed sucks that made her tremble.

Penelope braced her hands against the cool shower wall, pushing her hips back into his mouth. Her head dropped, eyes fluttering as she let out soft, needy moans, her whole body surrendering to his care. The sensations were almost too much—tender but filthy, slow but overwhelming.

She whimpered, breath hitching as his tongue circled her clit, teasing her just on the edge. “Oh fuck, Jonathan… your mouth feels so good—don’t stop, please, don’t stop. God, I love how you eat my pussy..”

His hands squeezed her ass tighter, tongue plunging deeper as he groaned again, lost in the taste and feel of her, the ache of his own need rising all over again. “Keep talking, baby,” he growled, mouth pressed to her, “tell me how much you love it. Let me hear how dirty you are for me…”

Penelope could barely catch her breath, her moans turning to helpless, filthy little whimpers as he devoured her, slow and careful, determined to wring every last ounce of pleasure from her body.

Jonathan’s hands roamed over Penelope’s hips and ass, kneading her gently as the water streamed over their bodies. He slipped one hand lower, letting his fingers glide between her thighs. His touch was soft, almost teasing, as he found her clit and began to rub slow, gentle circles—each movement coaxing fresh shivers from her body.

As his fingers worked her swollen nub, Jonathan’s mouth trailed lower, tongue tracing the sensitive skin between her cheeks. He spread her just enough to expose her most intimate place, then pressed a warm, teasing kiss to her tight entrance. His tongue flicked out, soft and exploratory at first, then bolder as he began to lap and swirl, savoring every whimper that spilled from Penelope’s lips.

She gasped, hands pressed to the slick shower wall, knees threatening to buckle as new sensations rolled through her. “Oh my god… Jonathan—yes, fuck, yes,” she moaned, voice husky and full of filthy gratitude. “That feels so fucking good. Fuck my ass with your tongue.”

Jonathan groaned, the sound vibrating against her as his tongue worshipped her back entrance, all while his fingers kept up their gentle, perfect rhythm on her clit. He took his time, licking and sucking with slow, thorough devotion, his big hands keeping her steady, making her feel safe even as he drove her wild.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, mouth hot and wet against her. “Let me taste every part of you. You’re perfect everywhere—so sweet, so dirty, so fucking mine.”

Penelope whimpered, her body caught in the pleasure of his fingers and his mouth, her breath fogging up the glass as she surrendered to his care and his hunger, letting him take her wherever he wanted.

Jonathan pressed his body close, one big hand gripping Penelope’s hip while the other moved with deliberate intensity, rubbing her clit harder, faster, coaxing her pleasure higher with each circling stroke. His mouth and tongue stayed focused on her most forbidden place, working in slow, hungry circles before darting in and out, tasting her deeply, making her legs tremble.

Penelope’s breath came in shallow, shaky moans, her forehead resting against the slick tile, hips arching back to give him even more. She could barely speak, voice breaking on every needy word. “Oh god, Jonathan, your tongue—fuck—nobody’s ever done this to me… you’re making me so dirty, so desperate. I love how you eat my ass—love being your filthy little plaything. Please, give me more, I need more, I need you…”

Jonathan laughed, a deep, dark rumble against her skin, clearly loving every gasp, every filthy confession. “You like that, baby? Like me spreading you open and licking your tight ass while I play with your sweet pussy?” He drove his tongue deeper, licking her in long, thorough strokes, not holding back now, the wet sounds between them even filthier in the echoing shower.

He let his hand slide lower, lining up one thick finger at her slippery entrance, then pushed in slowly, stretching her, curling inside her as his thumb kept up its relentless rhythm on her clit. He worked his tongue and finger together, mouth devouring her ass while his hand fucked her pussy—every movement calculated to unravel her.

Penelope cried out, her body caught between shock and hunger, grinding her hips back against his face and hand. “Oh fuck, Jonathan—yes, just like that, don’t stop—your tongue feels so fucking good, your finger’s so thick, fill me up, make me cum,  keep fucking your nasty little slut…”

Jonathan moaned into her, tongue plunging and circling, finger working her wet heat, determined to make her scream for him all over again.

Jonathan’s finger pumped in and out of her soaked pussy, his thumb grinding against her clit while his tongue relentlessly worked her tightest entrance. The pressure, the sensation—so wrong, so wild, so exquisitely good—drove Penelope right to the edge. Her cries grew desperate, body writhing against his mouth and hand, the pleasure threatening to swallow her whole.

He felt her start to shake, knew she was close, and only doubled down—his tongue plunging deeper, finger fucking her harder, thumb never letting up. With his only free hand, he landed a sharp, stinging smack on her ass, making her arch and gasp.

“That’s it, baby—let go for me,” Jonathan growled, voice feral against her skin. “Scream my name. Let the whole house know who makes you cum like this. You’re my filthy little slut, aren’t you? Just a desperate, cock-hungry wife who can’t get enough.”

Penelope shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her, loud and raw, her voice echoing in the steamy shower as she screamed his name like a prayer, over and over. “Jonathan! Jonathan! Oh fuck, I’m cumming! Don’t stop—please, please—!”

He kept spanking her, squeezing her ass in his big palm, the sting mingling perfectly with the pleasure as he fucked her through her climax. “That’s it , girl. Cum for me. Make a mess for me.  Cum all over my fucking hand in the shower you share with your husband. Nobody’s ever going to fuck you like this, nobody’s ever going to hear you scream their name the way you do for me. You were made for this, Penelope—made to be used, filled, worshipped like the beautiful whore you are.”

Her whole body trembled, thighs slick, voice hoarse, the high stretching on and on until she finally collapsed, spent and shuddering, still feeling him everywhere.

As the last waves of Penelope’s orgasm pulsed through her, Jonathan pressed slow, soothing kisses to the small of her back, then up along her spine, mouth soft and worshipful. His hands were gentle now, massaging her hips, caressing the sting from her ass where his palm had left its mark. Penelope’s breaths came in shaky gasps, and she melted into his touch, her body floating in the lingering afterglow.

He rose behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, peppering her shoulder and neck with more kisses, slow and sweet. She turned her head, meeting his mouth with a languid, grateful kiss—tongues brushing, breaths mingling, heat simmering low between them.

When she was steady again, Jonathan pressed his lips to her ear, voice low and thick with promise. “Brace yourself, baby. Hands on the wall for me.”

Penelope obeyed, shivering in anticipation as she placed her palms flat against the cool, wet tile. She arched her back, offering herself to him, hips swaying in invitation. Jonathan took a moment just to admire her, the way she looked stretched and open, glistening and ready, every curve begging to be touched.

He knelt and kissed the small of her back once more, then rose, guiding his thick cock to her entrance. He moved carefully, lining himself up and pressing forward, inch by inch, letting her feel every slow, careful stretch. His hands gripped her hips, steady and sure, fingers pressing into her soft flesh as he filled her from behind.

Jonathan groaned at the feeling, his voice a reverent rumble against her damp skin. “God, you feel amazing… so tight, so perfect. Just relax for me, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Penelope moaned, pushing back to take him deeper, loving the way he moved so slowly, making sure she felt every inch. Their bodies pressed close, breath and steam curling around them, as he began to move, slow and deep, savoring the pleasure and the closeness all over again.

Jonathan stayed buried deep inside Penelope, barely moving, letting her feel the fullness, the sweet ache of being completely possessed. His broad chest pressed to her back, breath hot against her ear as the shower cascaded over them. One of his big, dark hands wrapped around her waist, the other sliding up to palm her breast, thumb stroking softly across her nipple as he held her in place.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear, voice low and full of dark curiosity. “Why me, Penelope?” he murmured, words slow and pointed. “Why call me tonight? Why not someone else?”

Penelope whimpered, her hips rolling in tiny, needy circles, desperate to ride him but trapped by his grip. Her voice was breathless, wrecked with want. “Because… I’ve always craved you, Jonathan. I wanted your hands on me—those thick, black hands. Wanted your cock. No one else ever made me feel this way.”

She pressed her forehead to the shower wall, trying to push back, moaning as the thick length of him filled her so perfectly. “You don’t know what you do to me. I even bought a toy—one that reminds me of you. Big, dark, thick. I’d use it and pretend it was you fucking me, wishing it was really you filling me up. God, Jonathan, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

Jonathan groaned, his hips rocking just a fraction deeper, savoring her confession, his possessive grip tightening. “Fuck, Penelope… That’s the filthiest thing I’ve ever heard. You thought about me while you touched yourself? Imagined my cock stretching you out?”

She nodded, voice trembling with desperation. “Yes, always. My husband would fuck me with it. I’d even use it in my pussy as he fucked my ass.

He kissed her shoulder, tongue tracing over her skin as his cock pulsed deep inside her. “You’re mine now, baby. I’m not stopping until you forget about every toy, every fantasy—until all you can think about is my big black cock shooting my cum deep inside this pussy.”

He began to move, slow at first, letting her feel every deliberate thrust, every promise, as her body arched back, eager to take everything he gave.

Jonathan’s grip tightened on Penelope’s hips as he pulled nearly all the way out, then drove back in—slow, but with bone-deep force, making her ass bounce back against his pelvis with every deliberate thrust. The slap of their bodies filled the steamy air, echoing off the tile. He watched the way her soft flesh rippled and quivered every time he sank deep, a growl of satisfaction rumbling in his chest.

“Goddamn, baby,” he groaned, voice thick and filthy. “I could watch your ass bounce on my cock all fucking night. You love getting pounded like this, don’t you? Watching your pretty pussy swallow every inch, knowing I can stretch you wider than anyone ever has…”

Penelope moaned, pressing her cheek to the wall, pushing her hips back to meet every hard, slow stroke. “Mmm, you make me so fucking full, Jonathan. I love feeling your cock inside me—so deep, so thick. I love being your dirty little secret. Love getting used just for your pleasure…”

He slammed in again, his hand sliding up to grab a fistful of her hair, holding her head back as he leaned in close. “You know what would make this even better?” he whispered, his voice a razor at her ear. “If your husband was right here, watching his wife take a real cock. Watching you get ruined on my big black dick—seeing what you really need…”

Penelope shivered at his words, pleasure and wicked shame mixing deliciously in her veins. She turned her head just enough to meet his gaze, a sly, hungry smile on her lips. “Yeah? Well, maybe your wife should be here, too. I’d show her how to be a ready whore for you—how to open up and beg for your cock, how to take everything you give her and beg for more.”

Jonathan laughed, a dark, approving sound, slamming into her even harder, the slow power of his thrusts making her gasp. “Fuck, Penelope. I knew you were filthy—but hearing it from your mouth, knowing you’d show my wife how to get on her knees and open up for me… You’re the dirtiest little thing I’ve ever had.”

Penelope whimpered, clenching down on him, her body hungry for every brutal, perfect stroke. “That’s right, Jonathan. I’d show her how to take you, how to be your good little slut. But tonight… I’m all yours.”

He pressed forward, pinning her tight, pounding deep and slow, stretching her out until she was breathless, their filthy words mingling with the wet, desperate sounds of pleasure filling the shower.

Penelope moaned, the words spilling out between gasps, her body quivering with every deep, powerful thrust. “God, Jonathan, I’d show anyone—anyone—what a good little whore I am for you. I’d get down on my knees, bend over, spread my legs… anything you want. I want everyone to see how much I crave your cock, how my pussy gets wet just thinking about you filling me up.”

She pressed back against him, her ass bouncing with each punishing, slow stroke, desperate for more. “I need it, Jonathan—I need your cum now. My pussy’s hungry for it, can’t get enough. I want to feel you drip out of me for days. Ruin me—mark me—make sure everyone knows who I belong to.”

Jonathan’s breath came faster, his hands gripping her hips tight as he ground into her, his cock throbbing with the force of her filthy confessions. He leaned in, voice a feral growl, words dark and wicked. “Yeah? Is that what you want, baby? Want to be filled up by me? Fuck,  I’d bring my friends over, let you have all the huge chocolate cocks you could ever handle. Let them see what a desperate little slut you are for it.”

He slapped her ass again, watching her shudder and clench around him, his hips slamming forward, slow but merciless. “You’d take them, wouldn’t you? One after another, every big cock you could fit. I’d make them watch you beg for it—watch you lose yourself, dripping with cum, showing off just how needy and shameless you really are.”

Penelope whimpered, voice raw and pleading. “Yes—yes, Jonathan, I’d take them all. I’d show them what a good whore I am for you, for your friends… anything you want. Just don’t stop, please—fuck me, fuck me harder!”

Jonathan’s hand slid up her body, his grip possessive as he pounded into her, their filthy words echoing off the shower walls, the need between them hotter and more desperate than ever.

Jonathan’s fist wrapped tight around Penelope’s long red hair, winding it around his thick wrists until he had total control. He tugged, forcing her head back, making her back arch and her body offer itself even more shamelessly to him. The angle made her breasts thrust forward, her ass and hips presented for every punishing, hungry thrust.

He fucked her harder now—deep, fast, each stroke making her moan louder, her wet heat gripping him, every inch of her body shaking. The sound of their skin meeting echoed off the shower tiles, relentless and wild.

Penelope grinned over her shoulder at him, lips parted, eyes dark with wild, filthy hunger. “Harder, Jonathan. Please!!! I want to feel you for days. I want to feel you owning me. Please, don’t stop—I need it, I need you.”

Jonathan let out a feral growl, pulling her hair tighter, slamming into her with abandon. “Look at you—so fucking desperate. You love getting fucked like a filthy little slut, don’t you? Look at how greedy your tight creamy pussy is, sucking my cock in deeper, begging for more. This is what you’re made for, Penelope—getting filled up by me, taking everything I give you.”

He reached around with his free hand, grabbing her breast, squeezing hard, thumb rolling over her nipple as he pounded into her mercilessly. “I want you screaming my name when you cum. I want you begging for my cum—showing me, and anyone watching, how much you love being my perfect, shameless whore.”

Penelope writhed on him, back arched, hair pulled tight, every thrust making her moan and gasp, her voice nothing but filth and worship for the man using her so thoroughly.

“Fuck, Jonathan, yes—just like that, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop—I want it, I want all of it. Your big balls slapping against my ass is going to make me cum all over your cock—please, Jonathan, please!”

Jonathan leaned in, mouth at her ear, voice rough and brutal. “You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you? Going to show me how badly you need it—how badly you want to be my dirty, cum-drunk little slut.”

He hammered into her, every word and thrust pushing her closer to the edge, her body caught between pain and pleasure, desperate for release. Jonathan’s grip tightened, pulling her fiery hair back like reins, forcing her head high and her back into a perfect, aching arch. The new angle made her feel even more helpless, exposed, and wanted. The sound of his dark skin slapping against her pale ass echoed through the steamy shower, raw and shameless.

He drove into her even harder, never losing rhythm, hips pistoning as he growled into her ear, voice deep and commanding. “You feel that, Penelope? You’re mine now. Taking you just how you need it. Letting everyone hear how a real man fucks you. I want you to cum for me—right fucking now.”

Penelope gasped, pleasure ricocheting through her with every thrust, every sharp tug at her hair. She sobbed, her body quaking with need, her voice broken but wild. “Yes, Jonathan—fuck, yes! I’m your whore, your dirty little slut! I love when you use me, love when you pull my hair, love when you fill me so deep—don’t stop, don’t ever stop!”

Jonathan’s voice got even rougher, the slap of their bodies relentless, his hand wrapped tight in her hair, controlling every movement. “You want to cum on my cock? Show me, baby—let go for me. Make a fucking mess. I want to feel your pussy squeeze me, want to feel you lose control because of me. Cum for me, right fucking now, Penelope!”

She moaned, trembling, voice gone ragged and needy, every word filthy as she begged, “I’m cumming, Jonathan! Oh god, I’m cumming! Fuck me harder, ruin me—make me yours!”

He pulled her hair tighter, pounding into her, his voice a low, dark snarl. “That’s it, let go, scream for me. Be my perfect whore. Cum all over my cock, right now.”

Her body obeyed, shattering around him—lost, surrendered, his name echoing from her lips like a wild, desperate prayer. Jonathan didn’t let up for a second, even as Penelope’s whole body shook, her legs trembling and her cries echoing against the steamy tiles. His laughter rolled out, dark and hungry, loving how completely undone she was on his cock.

“Look at you, baby,” he growled, pounding into her with relentless power, watching her look back over her shoulder, mouth open in desperate, breathless pleasure. “So fucking cock-drunk, so needy—milking me like your life depends on it.”

Penelope’s hands slipped on the slick shower wall as her orgasm rocked through her, and she kept her wild gaze locked on him, lips parted, still begging for more. “Jonathan, oh my god—please, don’t stop! You feel so fucking good. No one’s ever filled me like this—no one. Harder, Jonathan, harder—please, I want it, I want all of it, I never want you to stop!”

He leaned over her, still deep inside, grinding and thrusting even harder, skin slapping against hers, dark hands claiming her hips. “You’re perfect like this,” he rasped, his voice low and filthy, “begging for my cock, telling me how good it is—fuck, Penelope, you were made for this. For me.”

Her moans filled the shower, her body wild and trembling as he drove her through the aftershocks, both of them lost in the wild, secret heat they’d set loose.

Jonathan kept his relentless rhythm, every thrust deep and claiming. His grip on her hips tightened, making sure she took every inch, his voice a dark whisper against her ear.

“That’s it, Penelope,” he rasped, low and feral. “I want to make you mine—really fucking make you my whore. Fill you up, breed you, keep you dripping with my cum so you never forget who owns you.”

He pounded harder, loving the way she pushed back, still looking at him over her shoulder, her eyes shining with lust and wicked hunger.

“I want everyone to see what you are,” he went on, even filthier now, “my cock-drunk little slut. One day I’ll bring my boys, let them see how desperate you are, how greedy your pussy is. Let them fill you up, too—leave you covered, dripping with cum, used just the way you need it.”

Penelope moaned loudly, words tumbling from her lips, breathless and eager. “Yes, Jonathan—god, yes! I want it, I want to be yours. I want to take all your cum, want you to fill me up and breed me, show everyone how good you fuck me. I’d take all your friends, too—let them use me, ruin me, make me a good whore over and over.”

He slammed into her even harder, her words pushing him right to the edge. “You’re perfect, baby. You were made to take big black cock. And I’m never gonna let you forget it.”

Their bodies crashed together, his filthy promises and her desperate, hungry answers echoing off the shower walls as they lost themselves in the wild, depraved heat between them.

Penelope’s voice was a broken, desperate whimper as she kept her eyes locked on Jonathan, her body bouncing hard on his cock, still trembling from her orgasm. “Yes, Jonathan—please, breed me. Fill me so deep I can’t hold it in. I want to feel you leaking out of me for days, want to be stretched and dripping so everyone can see your cum inside me. I want you to fuck me until I can’t take anymore—make sure I belong to you and everyone knows it.”

She shivered as he slammed into her, her words pushing her higher, making her crave every filthy promise he whispered.

“God, I want to be used. I want you to pump me full, fill my womb, make me yours. If your boys want a turn, I’ll take them—let them cum inside me too. I want to be your perfect little breeding whore, always full, always begging for more.”

Jonathan let out a feral growl, losing himself in the fantasy she painted. “Fuck, baby, you really are my filthy slut. You’d take it all, wouldn’t you? Let me and my boys fill you up—breed you, leave you so stuffed with cum you can’t even walk straight. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be used, to be bred, to be fucked stupid and ruined for anyone else?”

Penelope’s answer was a wild, wanton moan, her whole body pulsing around him as she begged, “Yes, yes, Jonathan—please, breed me, use me, make me yours forever…”

Their bodies moved in perfect, desperate rhythm, lost in the filth and heat, their fantasies fueling every savage thrust and moan. Jonathan’s palm cracked against Penelope’s ass, the sharp sting making her gasp and clench even tighter around him. He leaned over her, his voice a dark, taunting whisper right at her ear, hips never slowing.

“What do you think your husband would say if he saw you like this, Penelope?” he growled, another hard smack punctuating his words. “Bent over, begging to be bred, getting fucked so deep by his best friends  cock… He’d never believe how filthy you really are, would he?”

Penelope whimpered, her breath coming in desperate pants, her body throbbing with need and shame and excitement all tangled together. “He couldn’t handle me like this,” she managed, her voice ragged. “He doesn’t know how much I need it—how much I love being a dirty little whore…”

Jonathan grabbed her hips even harder, slamming into her with rough, perfect power, making her bounce with every thrust. “That’s right,” he snarled, “He’ll never know what it’s like to have you screaming for it, begging for my cum, taking it all like the perfect slut you are. You’re mine now, Penelope. Only mine.”

Her answer was a cry, half moan, half laughter, as she pushed back into him, letting herself get lost in everything he gave.

Jonathan’s hand slid down, fingers finding Penelope’s swollen, sensitive clit. He circled it hard, relentless, even as he slammed her against the shower wall, pounding into her with savage, claiming thrusts. The heat of his body, the sting of his words, and the roughness of his grip all fused together, sending her spiraling.

He pressed his lips to her ear, voice a feral command, almost a roar over the rush of the water. “You better fucking cum for me again, Penelope! Cum now, squeeze my cock—let me feel it. Show me who you belong to!”

Penelope’s breath hitched, her whole body shuddering as the pleasure overtook her—his fingers grinding her clit, his cock pounding her deep, hard, claiming her from the inside out. She wailed his name, pushed up against the wall, her body shaking as a second, even more powerful orgasm tore through her, her pussy clenching and fluttering around him.

“FUCK JONATHAN! FUCK MEEE! YES, YES, YES, GIVE ME THAT HUGE BLACK COCK!”

Jonathan lost himself then, growling, pounding into her even harder as she milked him for everything he had left. He held her tight, his cock pulsing deep, hips pressing her hard to the shower wall as he came again, filling her up with thick, hot release until she could feel it spilling out, mixing with the shower’s spray and her own tremors.

Their bodies stayed tangled, gasping and shivering, water streaming over them as they rode out the last, desperate waves—utterly spent, completely claimed, and hopelessly, shamelessly satisfied.

The water ran warm over their bodies as their breathing slowly steadied. Jonathan’s strong arms gathered Penelope gently, turning her in his embrace. He pressed a long, soft kiss to her forehead and let his lips linger there, then began to lovingly wash her, his big hands moving with surprising care over her flushed, sensitive skin. Every stroke was a quiet promise, his touch soothing away the roughness of what they’d just shared.

He helped her out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her and then another around himself. He dried her slowly, kneeling to gently blot her legs and thighs, cleaning away every trace but never the memory of how he’d filled her.

When she was almost dry, Jonathan rose up, one hand cupping her chin, his touch both commanding and impossibly tender. He looked her deep in the eyes, voice low and earnest. “I meant every word, Penelope. You’re mine now—forever. Free for my use. I’ll fuck you when I want, where I want, and with whoever I want.” He kissed her then, slow and deep, claiming her with his mouth just as thoroughly as he had with his body.

Penelope melted into his kiss, a little smile curving her lips as she nodded, shivering at the thrill in his words. “Yes, Jonathan. I’m yours. Thank you for helping me make sure my house was safe,” she whispered, mischief glinting in her eyes.

Jonathan chuckled, brushing his lips along her jaw and down her neck, his arms enveloping her in a possessive, protective embrace. “Anytime, baby. You call, I’ll come running. But don’t forget—you’re mine now. And I’m going to remind you of that, every chance I get.”

She leaned into him, safe and claimed, the night settling around them—full of new secrets, wild promises, and the knowledge that something between them had changed forever.

Jonathan moved to get dressed, grabbing his clothes and slinging the towel around his hips. As he headed for the door, Penelope watched him from where she sat, still warm and soft in the glow of the bathroom light. Something—maybe curiosity, maybe guilt—made her speak up, voice quiet but teasing.

“What about your wife?” she asked, the question hanging in the air, bold and honest.

Jonathan paused in the doorway, then turned, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face. He strode back to her, cupped her face in his big hand, and kissed her hard—deep and claiming, like a promise that wouldn’t break. When he pulled back, his voice was low, confident, and without a trace of regret. “I don’t care,” he said simply, a dark laugh rumbling in his chest. “Not when it comes to you.”

He pressed one last kiss to her forehead, lingering a moment with his thumb stroking her jaw. “Get some sleep, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

Penelope watched him leave, the door shutting softly behind him. For the first time in days, her body felt truly sated, the ache and the tension gone. She curled up under her covers, his scent still on her skin, and drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep—satisfied, branded, and utterly at peace in the dark.