Slavery's Release update

Peter stroked the head-tail, not knowing what else to do. There seemed to be no stopping her now. He didn’t know if he could resist her, even if he tried. All Peter could figure was that if she was determined to service him, that he wouldn’t just treat her like some sex slave. He’d make it good for her too. And that meant he couldn’t just sit there while she blew him.

“Lay down on your back,” Peter told her, thinking nothing of it, but the command shook Oola’s body—he felt her lekku tremble in his hand. 

Oola obediently lowered herself down by the fire, spreading her legs to welcome him into her. The mesh skirts she wore pulled away from her groin at the slightest tug—he saw that her pussy was an exotic shade of red, like how a flower’s bud would be a different color from its leaves. Its wetness reflected the firelight up at him, warmth calling him in from the cold.

Oola, too, felt heat—the wet warmth of his cockhead as it entered her. Her thighs opened even wider to suitably embrace his descending body—she arched to bring her sex up to him, meet the plunge of his thick shaft into her.

Peter paused, taking a moment to notice her breathing. It was in short, gasping bursts. She seemed on the verge of hyperventilating, desperate with need for him. 

He moved into her waiting slit, parting them inch by inch. Oola did not seem narrow enough for him to stretch her womanhood like his sizable member often did, nor was she loose enough to easily let him in. 

Instead, it was like a perfectly snug fit, sucking him in with every electric second he had his cockhead touching her labia. Peter slid comfortably inside her, hissing at how tightly she fit him without ever denying him entry.

“Oh yessss,” Oola sighed, pulling her legs up and back to bring her sex up to his descending prick.

Peter marveled at the wonderful pressure he felt spreading over his cock, enjoying all aspects of the fuck as her pussy tightened around his every inch, wrapping it all tightly in a sheath of roiling flesh. Oola had an amazing cunt, the ultimate expression of womanhood between her legs, perfect for accommodating his member.

And her breasts, soft mounds that were nonetheless firm to the touch. He ran his hands over them, feeling the olive nipples respond immediately. They could’ve been sculpted, chiseled, envisioned by the finest artist in the world, he mused to himself. His fingers curled into their plump contours. If she was his woman, he’d never bother with a pillow again. His head would always rest on her two cushions.

The nipples darkened with excitement, turning the color of wet moss as he pinched and twisted them. The broad areolas rose up like gumdrops, twitching, crying out for the touch of his lips. Peter bent down and sucked a quivering nipple into his mouth while still pistoning his cock into the oven-heat of her pussy.

Oola writhed with the joy he gave her, she shook with it—his teeth biting into her nipples, his cock filling her with plunge after plunge into her twisting body. It was a good prick, a wonderful prick, the only prick she would ever want! It was Peter’s!

His hands moved down, cupping her plump ass, squeezing it as it cried out to be enjoyed. Oola felt one of Peter’s fingers orbiting the wrinkles of her sphincter, touching it, teasing it. She relaxed completely, trusting Peter to slide it inside her, twisting, bending, massaging the interior of her asshole. 

When his finger came out of her and she felt his cock slipping away as well, she knew exactly what was happening. Peter was realizing just how deeply devoted to him she was. Good. The most important person to know that she was his was him, of course.

Her hips lifted up, legs opening wide. Her anus was offered up to the tip of his waiting cock. Peter eased himself against it, feeling it open far more slowly than her cunt had, but the resistance diminishing with every passing moment. He put his weight on Oola and with it behind his gentle thrust, his prick burrowed into the clinging tightness of her asshole. 

Oola breathed out, a shaky smile directed up at Peter’s handsome face, showing she wanted it, wanted him to please her, to fuck her, fuck her ass, and finally, to breed her. The more he asked of her, the more it would prove she belonged to him.

She folded her legs up against her chest, practically thrusting her ass out into his thrusting cock. Peter set his arms under her raised legs, holding them in place. Somehow, unknowingly but perfectly, he was fitting her into a traditional Ryloth mating press. Oola’s eyes rolled like those of a wild animal. Bless the Force for giving her this man.

He pummeled into her, Peter’s hips whipping back and forth as his groin crashed against her splayed buttocks, stiff cock laying claim to the depths of her bowels. All while Oola smiled beatifically, perfectly attuned to the situation, totally receptive and eager to serve Peter in any way he needed. 

“It feels so good, Master,” Oola keened, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of juniper. She beamed with teary eyes up at Peter’s face, her hips flowing in a graceful ring to service him even as he sodomized her. “I never want this to end!”

Peter felt her asshole clench and tighten as he buried himself in it with each deep thrust. Oola moved with both instinct and experience, her technique mixing with her audacious beauty to put her at the pinnacle of sexual pleasure. He felt the incredible warmth blooming in his manhood, milked out of him by her clinging anus, and knew he would soon be rewarding her as she so desperately wanted. 

Oola could feel it too. She quickened her pace, chittering in pleasure, grinning dopily to herself. It was so incredible to have a man inside her, using her as she was meant to be used. Neither of them would stop until he was satisfied, and of course, by then Oola would long since be satiated. She actually felt a sense of challenge, to rise to the occasion of fulfilling him while her senses were dulled by all the ecstasy he gave her.

Peter pulled himself slowly from Oola’s asshole, her rectum tightening on him as he went like it was caving in behind him. He brought it all the way out and saw her anus crinkle into a pristine, pink sphincter. He knew just by looking at it that it was virgin tight once more. Then he eased himself up to the emptiness of her sex, knowing instinctively that was where she wanted his seed. He drove himself into her—her willing thighs wrapped around his hips, holding him in an embrace as he gave her stroke after stroke.

His pistoning thrusts inflamed her pussy, driving the flames higher and higher until the heat matched his own. She felt like she was scalding his prick with her inner folds, heaving like a bellows, panting, running her tongue in a steady orbit around her parted lips. With Oola holding herself in place, Peter grabbed her lekku, holding them tight, digging the pads of his finger into the tender, supple flesh. Oola’s jaw dropped—she knew in that moment of rapture that she was his for life.