Ovulation Frenzy: My Raw Surrender to Pierre’s Cock at the Chalet

Heart pounding, we pull up to the chalet after that romantic dinner. Pierre’s hand still lingers on my thigh from the drive, fingers teasing higher. I’m soaked already, ovulation turning my pussy into a throbbing mess. Rose petals trail from the door to the master bedroom—his touch. Wine glasses clink. We sip red, deep and tart. His eyes devour me in my blue velvet dress, hugging every curve he loves. ‘Your femininity beats my wife’s by miles,’ he says. Inhibition melts with the second glass. ‘I went shopping wild,’ I confess. ‘Lingerie, slutty stuff.’ He grins, cock twitching in his pants. ‘Show me.’

I bolt to the bedroom, lock the door. Strip naked. Roll on black fishnet stockings slow, nylon whispering over my thick thighs. Pierre loves my chubby legs. Satin panties next, hugging my fat ass tight. Camisole slides over heavy tits—nipples harden instantly against the silk. Then the boots: knee-high black leather, zipping up snug. Mirror check: fuck, I’m a goddess. Heels click on wood—tac, tac, tac—as I strut out. Pierre’s jaw drops. ‘Oh chérie, you’re stunning!’ He offers cuddles only. Bullshit. I drop to my knees between his legs. ‘Manon, what—’ Pants off, boxer yanked. His dick springs hard, veiny, smaller than my new black dildo but real, hot. Precum beads on the thick head. I grip it, stare up, tongue out. Lick slow. Salty skin bursts on my tastebuds. He groans deep.

The Approach: Tension Builds, No Time to Waste

Suck him tender, swirling tongue around that pulsing glans. Hand pumps steady, building him. Fifteen minutes of edging—every time he bucks close, I stop. His balls tighten, breath ragged. Finally, I stand, grab his cock like a leash, lead him to bed. On my back, fingers rub my clit through satin. He strips, fumbles a condom—rips it. ‘I’ll be careful,’ he begs. ‘No fucking way,’ I snap. ‘Pregnancy risk.’ But he pleads: ‘Just rub on your lips?’ Fine. His hot cockhead drags over my swollen vulva lips. Electric. I moan loud, hips bucking. He kisses my neck, shoulders, lips hungry. Orgasm climbs fast.

The Explosion: Wild Fuck, Dirty Words, Total Loss of Control

One deep moan from me, and bam—Pierre thrusts in raw. ‘PIERREEE!’ Too late. He pounds savage, pubis grinding my clit each slam. Pussy stretches, grips him like a vice. Juices squelch loud. ‘Fuck, your cunt’s so tight, Manon!’ he growls. ‘Take my cock, you horny slut!’ I lose it—legs wrap his waist, nails rake his back. Kisses bruise. He roars, floods me with hot cum, thick ropes painting my womb. I shatter, walls milking every drop. No pause—he keeps hammering, cums twice more, semen overflowing. Sweat-slick, we collapse.

Bathroom later, piss streams out mixed with his creamy load. Gush after gush. Mirror stare: flushed face, smeared makeup, pussy lips puffy red. ‘I’m woman now. Hope no baby.’ Back to bed, he snores. I curl away, stranger again in this body. Ovulation haze fades. Shame creeps. But that high… unforgettable.