Nathalie's face twisted in agony, her breath hitching like she'd been gut-punched. She didn't argue. She couldn't. Because Angela was right. And the truth burned worse than any insult.

I leaned over her, my voice a low, velvety growl, my fingers tracing the curve of her hip with a possessive touch. "If I were Walter..." I murmured, my breath hot against her ear, my words wrapping around her like a promise.

"I would've had you every night." My hand slid up, cupping her breast, my thumb brushing over her nipple, feeling the way it hardened under my touch. "I would've fucked you until you couldn't walk. Until you were begging me to stop."

My lips brushed the shell of her ear, my voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. "I would've worshipped this body. Made sure you were satisfied every single fucking night." My grip tightened just slightly, my voice darkening. "What a waste, Nathalie. What a poor, neglected woman..."

For a heartbeat, Nathalie's expression softened, her eyes flickering with something raw—something almost like gratitude, like she was starving and I'd just offered her a feast.

But then the reality of the situation crashed down on her like a ton of bricks. She wasn't being cherished. She was being used. Forced. Broken. And the shame of it hit her like a wave, drowning her in humiliation.

Angela's laughter was a dark, triumphant melody, her fingers suddenly sliding between Nathalie's thighs, pressing against her still-sensitive pussy. "Oh, look at her," she purred, her voice dripping with sadistic delight.

Angela's fingers kept tracing slow, maddening circles around Nathalie's clit, her touch cruel and possessive. "She liked that, didn't you, Nathalie?" she taunted, her voice dripping with venom as Nathalie's body jerked beneath her touch.

"A little pity from the devil himself, and you're melting all over again." Her lips brushed Nathalie's ear, her breath hot and mocking. "You're pathetic. A used-up old whore who'll spread her legs for anyone who gives her a scrap of attention."

Nathalie's breath hitched, her body trembling as Angela's fingers pressed harder against her clit, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through her. "N-No... I-I'm not—" she stammered, but her body betrayed her, her hips twitching, her pussy already throbbing with need.

"But don't worry, Nathalie," Angela whispered, her voice a blade slicing through Nathalie's last shreds of dignity. "We'll use you plenty." Her laughter was a cold, cruel promise. "Until you beg for more."

Before Nathalie could react, I grabbed her thighs and spread them apart, my grip rough and unyielding. My cock, still glistening with her spit, rubbed against the damp lace of her panties, the friction making her gasp.

"Hmm—" I hummed, my voice dark with lust as I slapped my cock against her pussy, the wet sound echoing in the room. "Wait... I-I'm... so sensitive... please—" Nathalie whimpered, her body arching as each slap drew dirty, broken moans from her lips. "Aaaaaah... Aaaah—!"

My cock throbbed against the soaked lace of her panties, the fabric clinging to her swollen lips like a second skin. I didn't push the panties aside—I used them.

With a slow, deliberate roll of my hips, I forced the head of my cock through the damp lace, the fabric stretching obscenely around my girth as I pressed into her.

"Nnngh—! Oh—! N-No, don't—! Aaaaaah—!" Nathalie's voice cracked, her back arching off the sofa as the lace dug into her folds, the friction making her whimper.

"Fuck," I groaned, my voice rough with lust as I felt her pussy clench around me through the fabric. "Look at that—your panties are clinging to my cock like they don't want to let go." My hips rolled forward again, the lace stretching tighter, the wet sound of her arousal filling the room.

"Aaaah—! It's—! It's too much—! Ahhh—!" Nathalie's fingers clawed at my shoulders, her nails digging in as she tried to push me away, but her body only arched closer, her pussy already dripping, the lace soaked through with her juices.

Angela's laughter was a dark, triumphant melody. "Oh, look at her," she purred, her fingers tracing the outline of Nathalie's panties where they stretched around my cock.

"She's taking it with her panties still on, like the filthy slut she is." Her voice dropped to a whisper, her lips brushing Nathalie's ear. "You love this, don't you? Being used like this? Being fucked through your panties like a desperate whore?"

"N-No—! I-I don't—! Aaaah—!" Nathalie's protests were weak, her body trembling as I thrust deeper, the lace rubbing against her clit with every movement.

"P-Please—! It's—! It's too—! Ahhh—!" Her voice broke into a desperate, trembling moan, her thighs quivering as her pussy clenched around me, the panties doing nothing to muffle the wet, obscene sounds of her arousal.

I growled, my fingers digging into her hips as I pulled back slightly, the lace clinging to my cock before I thrust forward again. "You like this, Nathalie," I murmured, my voice a dark promise.

"You like being fucked through your panties like the dirty girl you are." My hips rolled again, the fabric stretching tighter, the wet spot growing darker with her juices. "Aaaah—! N-No—! Ahhh—!" Her moans were broken, her body arching, her fingers clawing at the sofa beneath her.

Angela's laughter was a cold, cruel melody. "She's dripping, Dexter," she taunted, her fingers pressing against Nathalie's clit through the lace, making her jerk and gasp. "Her panties are ruined. Her pussy is begging for more." Her voice dropped to a whisper, her lips brushing Nathalie's ear.

"And she knows it." Her fingers circled Nathalie's clit, her touch deliberate and cruel. "Don't you, Nathalie? You want this. You need this." Her voice was a blade. "You're ours now. And we're going to use you until you beg for more."

I pulled my cock back with a wet schlick, the lace of her panties clinging to my cock like a second skin, glistening with her juices. My fingers gripped the damp fabric and dragged my cock up, pressing it between her panties and her thick, dark pubic curls.

The friction made her gasp, her back arching as I rubbed the underside of my cock against her clit, the coarse hairs catching against the sensitive head. "N-Nnngh—! D-Don't—! P-Please—!" Nathalie's voice was a broken whimper, her thighs trembling as her body betrayed her.

The moment Nathalie whimpered "I—I'm gonna c-cum—!" with that trembling, desperate voice, something primal inside me snapped.

My vision blurred with lust, my cock throbbing so hard it fucking ached. I didn't just want to fuck her—I needed to ruin her. To make her break so completely that she'd never forget who owned this tight, dripping cunt.

With a guttural growl, I ripped her panties aside with one brutal motion, the lace tearing under my fingers. Then—I slammed my cock inside her to the fucking hilt in one savage thrust.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH—!!"

Nathalie's scream was raw, animalistic, her back snapping off the sofa like she'd been electrocuted. Her pussy clamped around me like a fucking vice, her inner walls convulsing so hard I could feel every ridge of her G-spot dragging against my cock. "F-FUCK—!! I'M CUMMING—!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH—!!" Her voice cracked, her nails raking down my arms as her body locked up, her thighs shaking violently.

And then— I pulled back just in time—SPLAT!

SPLASH.

A scorching jet of her squirt erupted from her pussy like a fucking geyser, spraying straight up between us before drenching my stomach in a thick, sticky wave. "Nnngh—!! FUCK—!!"

The pressure was insane—her cunt pulsed around my cock like it was trying to milk the cum out of me, her juices gushing in hot, rhythmic spurts.

The second jet hit my chest with a wet slap, the third splattering across my thighs, her fluids soaking into my skin, the scent of her—musky, sweet, fucking intoxicating—filling the air.

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