Thrill Hammer

By D. Musgrave



Thrill Hammer
D. Musgrave

Harry McGroyn formulated a plan to infiltrate Rosie Palmz's chaste shores and authenticate her womanhood the moment he saw her. His brain whirred at the prospect of burying the Thrill Hammer into her moist sacred place, obliterating her maidenhead with a single motion. Rosie resisted his appeal to provide sheer, unadulterated pleasure; now he prepared to dispense it in such aplomb that she'd plead him to extinguish her virginity.

The night cooled the sun-baked sands as he searched for Rosie. He spotted her, luxuriating in the surf as waves smacked her with resounding force. Undulating with each swell, she shivered as the tide broke against her center. Harry imagined the sensation of water swirling between those gamine thighs, the surf pounding against the mound.

Harry viewed the complacency of Rosie's features, deducing the transfixed girl was in desperate need of a good fucking. The surge of blood in his engorged cock throbbed with enthusiasm as he gravitated toward his quarry.

Basking in the deluge of titillation, Rosie was oblivious to the invasion of privacy. Her nipples hardened from the onslaught of rolling waves, the thrashing salty spray igniting the embers of passion. If only a practiced mouth could drive through into the fragrant wetness. She shivered as the visions gripped her, dwelling on wicked thoughts and the motion of the sea. At once, aware of being watched she turned her shoulder, and saw Harry with a cool grin on his face. Flustered, she worried that her licentiousness was on public display. "How long…?"

"Long enough."

Swallowing hard, she struggled to her feet. He'd caught her fantasizing, seduced by the lure of the ocean. Even in her predicament, she was incredibly excited. Although she'd never admit it, she found Harry darkly appealing. The thought of his arms encircling her, and mouth nibbling the nape of her neck made her quiver.

The urge to be deflowered was tremendous. She shuddered to venture how easily he could lower her onto the sand, granting relief to her trembling legs. It took her breath away to envision the treacherous act of fornication.

"It's late. I'd better be going."

"You don't have to."

She wasn't alarmed by his brashness, merely resigned to her unflagging virtue. "There's plenty of girls at the bar that would welcome your company."

"I know what I want."

Rosie was cognizant that his stiffy was close to her clenched fist. The center of her palm ached to clasp the congealed mass and encircle the crown of his petrified thingy. Harry sensed her detachedness and if she remained disinterested, he'd have little choice but to beat off, and given the record of her virginal status, victory appeared bleak.

"I really have to go," She replied with conviction, shattering his dream.

Harry reacted swiftly, refusing to have his ego demoted. His arms encircled her shoulders, pulling her back toward him. Her supple flesh molded to his muscular frame in sweet surrender. The outline of his hard-on made its impression against her firm cheek. In a calculated move, Harry's fingertips grazed her navel and delved into the uncharted bikini bottom.

Rosie gritted her teeth as she felt the exploration, shivering as he wove through the tangle of curls. He cupped her mound and rotated the flat of his palm with delicious fluency. She wanted him to stop, but the sheer pleasure of the act prevented her from censuring him. "Oh Harry…" She whimpered, nearing collapse at the ministrations. Rosie groped the Thrill Hammer in the heat of sexual delirium, thumbing its rigidity through the trunks. Cream flowed from her slot like a fountainhead, dampening his hand.

Harry beamed. He'd not only reversed her decision; he was about to have his way. Employing action rather than verbiage, he let one finger drop to the slit of her unspoiled territory, stealthily probing the sluiced opening. Rosie gasped and ground her lush buttocks against his engorged pecker. He grunted at the compaction of ass muscle straining his harpoon.

Smoothly, Harry guided their molded forms to the carpet of sand, his fingers maintaining its vigil within the depths, and his dick tucked securely in her crack. Rosie was under the spell of his seduction and obediently followed.

Her breasts pulled free from the bikini top, granting him unlimited access to her erect nipples. He cupped the wealth of billowy softness, plying it with urgent pressure. She responded heatedly, burrowing his Thrill Hammer in the clutch of her buns. The blood surging within his swollen shaft was at maximum containment.

Rosie's clitoris vibrated from his manipulation, his expert finger-work caused her to contract, turning her body into a conduit of pleasure. If Harry continued to finger her, she'd have one hell of a blow out.

Unconsciously, she fumbled blindly into his shorts, seized the petrified Thrill Hammer, and distractedly stroked it. In a few precious seconds, it would be over. If she weren't restrained from her affliction, the cream rinse intended for her love canal during the breaking in ceremonies would be voided into the night. "No, don't…" His strangled cry was lost as Rosie exploded into orgasm.

"Oh God!" She howled euphorically. Her meteoric convulsions precipitated feverish grappling of the Thrill Hammer. Harry fought to impede climax, but the rumbling in his balls precluded the fact.

With utter resignation, he relinquished his remittance on her exposed buttocks, along with the unrequited dreams of glory. The chastity nearly claimed, his chance blown to the wind. "Oh Christ!" He groaned, as hot seed pumped from his turgid tool. Rosie watched the seed dampen her cheeks.

As the final spurts landed on her backside, she sobered. The excess hormones depleted and her lustful tendencies satisfied, she was released from the clutch of dark desire. With mounting horror, she saw her virtue crippled, though still intact. What had driven her to such extremes? Was she in that much of a hurry to achieve slut-hood?

"Wait, don't go," Harry gestured weakly.

Rosie fled the scene, still a certifiable virgin.




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