Transmigrated As An SSS Ranked MILF Overlord
Chapter 66: End...(R18+)

Chapter 66: End...(R18+)

Steve could have stopped—he knew that—but he didn’t care anymore.

The pleasure, the rhythm, the heat of the moment had consumed him completely.

It wasn’t just his mind lost to the sensation—Tonya’s was, too.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her throat working around him with each deep thrust as he drove more of his cock into her mouth.

The sound of her gags only spurred him on, hips moving in a relentless rhythm.

Saliva spilled from her lips, trailing messily down her chin and onto her chest, glistening against her skin.

But Steve didn’t slow down. He kept thrusting his cock further, lost in the raw, mind-numbing ecstasy of using her mouth for his pleasure.

Slurp.

Slurp.

Slurp.

Tonya’s lips worked hungrily around him, her mouth a wet, eager heat that welcomed every thick inch Steve fed her.

He groaned low, hips moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust plunging deeper into the warmth of her throat.

The sounds—wet, obscene—echoed in the space between them, each one shooting straight through him like a jolt of molten pleasure.

Her tongue swirled against him, teasing the underside of his shaft as her cheeks hollowed with effort.

Her mouth was heaven—hot, slick, and impossibly tight—and it drew him in like a man lost to lust.

He tilted his head back, jaw slack, breath ragged, completely undone by the sheer sensation of her.

She k

ept going, lost in it—lost in him. Her mind was a blur, every thought drowned beneath the sheer size of him stretching her mouth, filling her completely.

There was no space left for reason, let alone a space in her mouth at that moment.

Only heat. Only need.

Gag

Gag

Her gags echoed in the air, raw and wet, punctuated by the obscene slurps of her mouth working hungrily around his cock.

Saliva spilled freely, trailing down her chin and splattering across her bare tits.

She didn’t care. She was too far gone, too wrapped up in the taste of him, the feel of him, the way his thickness pressed into her throat and dominated every sense she had.

Her hands moved in sync with her mouth, stroking the base of his shaft with slick, gliding strokes—messy, eager, worshipful.

Tonya’s fingers trailed down his length, stroking with smooth, practiced rhythm, until they gently cradled his balls, massaging them with care even as her mouth continued its frantic pace.

Gag. Gag. Slurp. Slurp.

The sounds were shameless, rhythmic, soaked in lust—just like her.

She slowly pulled away, lips trailing with wetness as his slick, saliva-coated length slipped from her mouth with a soft pop.

Her chest rose and fell, breath shaky and uneven, her lips parted as she tried to steady herself.

One hand moved up, wrapping around his shaft—at least as much of it as she could manage.

Her grip was gentle but firm, fingers gliding up and down his wet, throbbing cock with slow, deliberate strokes.

Her eyes never left his face—intense, locked onto him with a look that was equal parts hunger and devotion.

Her breasts were flushed and full, nipples taut and reddened with arousal, each rise and fall of her breath accentuating the curve of her body, the heat that radiated from her skin.

And then, without warning, she dove back in.

Her mouth opened wide, lips stretching as she took him in—deeper, fuller—stuffing nearly all of him into her throat in a single, desperate motion.

She gagged, once, twice, her throat tightening around him, but she didn’t stop.

Her pace quickened, head bobbing as she devoured him, slurping with obscene wet sounds, as though his cock didn’t stretch her mouth past its limits.

She kept going, relentless, hungry.

Stuffing, swallowing, moaning—her eyes fluttering shut as she lost herself in the act, in the taste of him, in the rhythm of need that pulsed between them both.

The sensation was swallowing Steve whole as the wet, slick heat of her mouth clung to him like a second skin.

Every nerve ending screamed in exquisite pleasure, spiraling higher with each sloppy, desperate suckle.

The slick slickness, the velvet tightness, the way her tongue swirled and flicked—it was pure ecstasy.

Then, deep inside, the pressure coiled tight and fierce.

"I’m coming." he groaned, his voice thick with lust and surrender.

His hands crushed into her hair, pulling her closer, desperate to claim her as the waves of pleasure threatened to shatter him.

Tonya’s mouth, already tender and raw from the relentless assault, didn’t falter.

She swallowed him down greedily, lips and throat working in tandem, while one hand slid off to wrap around his length.

Her fingers curled possessively, stroking slow and sure, gliding up and down the slick, pulsing shaft.

The heat from her mouth and the friction of her touch sent searing fire through him, each stroke driving him closer to the edge.

Her saliva coated him, slippery and warm, dripping down her chin and pooling on her flushed, bare skin.

She kept going, lips and tongue working in perfect rhythm—sucking and stroking him with a hunger that grew fiercer by the second.

Each wet, urgent gag swallowed more of him, taking him deeper into the heat of her mouth.

Her lips stretched and pulsed, swallowing him whole again and again, desperate to taste every inch of his throbbing length.

Her hands didn’t stop either, sliding up and down his slick shaft with slow, teasing strokes that sent shivers of pleasure radiating through him.

Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, lost in the sensation, before snapping open—locked onto his face, reading the growing intensity in his expression.

A soft moan slipped from her lips, barely more than a breath, as she redoubled her efforts, sucking faster yet gentler, her mouth a heated, slick prison for him. Her hands matched the pace, gliding over his hardness with confident, teasing strokes.

Then, suddenly, she felt it—the tremble, the shudder deep inside him, the uncontrollable rush of release building too fierce to hold back.

Without breaking her rhythm, she slowly slid her mouth off, lips brushing the sensitive tip with a soft, lingering kiss.

But her hands didn’t falter; they kept stroking—fast, firm, relentless—driving him higher and higher on the wave of pleasure, leaving him trembling with the exquisite torment of her touch.

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