Drained: The Joy of Receiving Every Drop

As you press against me, my breath catches in anticipation. Your cock nudges at my entrance, and as you begin to enter, my pussy lips part with a mix of reluctance and eagerness. The sensation of being spread is intense, like a slow, deliberate unfolding. My lips, soft and warm, stretch around you, accommodating your girth with a tug that's both invasive and deeply intimate. There's a slight resistance, a pulling sensation as my body adjusts, my lips framing you in a tight embrace.

This spreading feels like a revelation, not just physically but emotionally. I'm acutely aware of every millimeter of your cock as it parts me, the way my lips cling to you, then slowly give way, unveiling my innermost self like a flower blooming in fast motion. As you push deeper, my lips continue to spread, creating a seal around you, the friction sending waves of warmth and a tingling sensation through me, a testament to my arousal, my body preparing, lubricating, yet the initial spread remains vivid, a tactile memory of our connection.

In these first moments, the feeling of my pussy lips being spread is both an act of surrender and an invitation, my body speaking its own language of welcome, setting the stage for deeper exploration. Then, there's another sensation—I feel my wetness, not just around you but running down my leg, a warm, almost ticklish stream, a clear sign of my desire, making this moment even more intimate, more real.

When you're all the way inside me, time seems to pause. The feeling is profound, a fullness both overwhelming and deeply satisfying. Your cock, fully sheathed within me, creates a pressure that's comforting, like being filled to the brim, every inch of my inner walls stretched, creating a sensation of being completely taken, yet in the most intimate, consensual way. There's a warmth, a heat that radiates from where we're joined, spreading through my lower abdomen, a silent acknowledgment of our union.

This fullness brings a mix of emotions—vulnerability, trust, and thrill. I'm aware of every movement, every breath you take, how it shifts the pressure inside. It's a dance of sensations, where the initial stretch has given way to a profound sense of being filled, of being one with you. As you start to move, the feeling evolves, from static fullness to a dynamic interplay of friction and fluidity, yet in that initial moment of being completely filled, there's a peace, a stillness where we're perfectly aligned, transcending into a shared understanding of our deepest desires met.

But there's more to this desire; I crave to have my pussy completely filled with your warm cum. The thought sends a shiver of anticipation through me, imagining the warmth, the thickness, the sensation of being filled not just with your cock but with your essence, a primal urge to be marked, to be filled so completely that there's no space left for anything but you, a testament to our passion.

As you reach your climax, the first spurt of cum hits, hot and thick, deep within me, and a primal instinct kicks in. I thrust my hips forward, pulling you in, ensuring you're as deep as possible. Your cock, now fully embedded, feels like an extension of me, and I clench around you, my muscles tightening in a silent command: "Stay."

The sensation of your cum filling me is intensified by this act, each spurt adding to the warmth

and pressure, creating an overwhelming feeling of being completely taken. I won't let you escape, not yet. My hips keep you locked in place, my inner walls gripping you, milking you for every last drop. It's a dance of control and surrender, where I'm both the captor and the captive, ensuring that this moment, this union, is as complete as it can be.

In this position, with you so deeply inside, the feeling of your cum becomes all-encompassing. It's like we're one entity, your release becoming part of me, a shared essence that binds us in this moment of raw, unfiltered connection. The cum pools, creating a fullness different from your cock, a weight that makes me feel heavy, grounded, yet incredibly alive. Each spurt adds to this sensation, the cum not just filling me but overflowing, a testament to our shared ecstasy.

After you've climaxed, there's a moment of stillness, where the only sound is our synchronized breathing, heavy with the weight of our shared passion. As I lay there, feeling the warmth of your cum slowly cooling inside me, a delightful thought crosses my mind—your once plump balls, now completely emptied into me.

The image of your balls, full and heavy with desire, now spent, sends a wave of satisfaction through me. It's a visual I cherish, knowing that every drop of your essence is now part of me, a testament to our intimacy. There's something incredibly erotic about the idea that I've taken all of you, that I've been the vessel for your release, leaving nothing behind.

This thought fills me with a sense of pride and possession, not just over your body, but over this moment, this act of giving and receiving. It's like a secret, intimate victory, where I've not only felt your pleasure but have become the keeper of it, holding your cum like a treasure within me.

The knowledge that your balls, once so full, are now empty because of me, adds a layer of depth to our connection. It's a reminder of how deeply we've joined, how completely you've given yourself to me. In this quiet aftermath, I revel in the thought, feeling a profound delight in having been the one to drain you, to be filled with the evidence of our mutual desire. It's a silent, powerful acknowledgment of our union, one that will linger long after our bodies part.