"You really didn't hate that, huh?" Liam asked, his voice a low, rough rumble.
"No," she managed, shaking her head quickly.
Her blonde hair, still damp from her nervous earlier pacing, fanned around her cheekbones.
She didn't move away, her hands still balled tightly in the front of his worn college t-shirt. "It was... a lot."
Liam grinned, the sheer, unapologetic hunger in her eyes mirroring his own.
He leaned in again, claiming her mouth in a slower, deeper kiss this time, one designed not for discovery, but for possession.
His hands, which had settled on the small of her back, slid down, finding the smooth, taut denim of her jeans.
He pressed his palms flat against her firm butt, a pleasant surprise that made him tighten his grip. She was lean, but undeniably soft beneath the fabric.
'Holy shit, they're so soft, and that denim is pulled tight enough to show every curve,' Liam thought, applying slight pressure, tilting her pelvis up and grinding their lower bodies together even through the thick layers of clothing.
Clara responded instantly, a low, breathy moan escaping deep in her throat, muffled against his mouth. Her hands released his shirt only to tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer, demanding more.
Liam pulled back for air, eyes locked on her bouncing tits and perfect curves, hunger twisting through him.
He grabbed her and kissed her again, tongues clashing in a messy, filthy rush that made his whole body tighten.
'Her tongue is so warm, completely different from Tasha's. Tasha was always aggressive, punishing. Clara is slow, sweet, but with this incredible underlying desperation, like she's starving,' Liam thought, completely mesmerized by the force and rhythm of her tongue.
They finally separated, both panting, eyes searching each other's faces. Liam could see the exact point where control had slipped away from her.
The innocence she projected was warring violently with a sudden, unleashed hunger.
He looked past her, a new notification blinking in the empty space before him, confirming his hunch.
[Target Bio Status Updated: Kinks Identified: Pampering/Praise, Rough Treatment, Exhibition/Teasing.
Recommendation: Leverage 'Pampering/Praise' before deploying 'Rough Treatment' for maximum effect.]
A wide, calculating grin crossed Liam's face.
'Damn! As expected from someone who dated a drug dealer for so long. She's been taught to accept harsh treatment as normal, maybe even as love,' he thought, the predatory part of his brain kicking in.
He looked back at Clara, who was catching her breath, her chest rising and falling quickly, the gray sweater clinging to her damp skin.
He reached out and gently brushed the blonde hair from her forehead, his touch soft, almost reverent.
"Clara," he began, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper, the sound a stark contrast to the rough demands of a few seconds prior.
"I've wanted this for years. I want you. But I need to know you want it too. Say stop and I stop."
Clara's eyes flickered down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. The desperation was still there, but now it was layered with a surprising, almost innocent desire to please him.
"No, it's fine," Clara replied, her voice soft but surprisingly firm. "Like I said before, I don't hate it."
Liam's smile widened, but the gentleness remained on his face. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
"Good girl," he murmured. He drew back, his eyes catching hers, the look intense and commanding. "Go down for me."
The shift from gentle persuasion to firm order was instantaneous and subtle, yet Clara didn't flinch. Instead, she inhaled sharply, a flush of red rising from her neck to her cheeks.
The order, delivered with that calm, decisive tone, clearly short-circuited whatever remaining reservations she had.
She didn't question it. Without another word, Clara slid off the cushion and onto her knees on the thick woven rug in front of the couch.
Liam adjusted himself, spreading his legs wide, planting his feet firmly on the floor.
"Can you please drag my pants down," he requested, his voice still calm, almost polite, but carrying the unmistakable weight of a man giving an order that must be followed.
Clara nodded her head, her attention focused entirely on the zipper tab of his jeans.
Her hands were slightly shaking as she unbuttoned the fly and dragged the zipper down, the harsh sound of metal grating against metal echoing loudly in the sudden quiet of the room.
She peeled the heavy, restrictive denim down over his hips and thighs, stopping them mid-calf.
This revealed his dark gray cotton boxer briefs, already pulled taut by the size and pressure of his erection.
Even contained by the fabric, the monumental bulge was undeniable, a thick, angry head straining against the cotton weave.
The sight of it actually made Clara pause.
She knelt there, her hands resting on his knees, her eyes wide as she contemplated the sheer size of what she was looking at.
The immediate, intense hunger from the kiss seemed to have been replaced by a genuine, startled apprehension.
'Oh. It's huge,' her expression clearly screamed.
Liam already saw her slight hesitation, her flutter of genuine surprise.
He knew a moment like this, if not addressed, could break the momentum and introduce real doubt. It was the perfect moment for a little tease, a little light mockery.
"Are you scared, Clara?" Liam asked, letting a mocking smirk curve his lips. His voice was laced with a soft, patronizing challenge.
"Oh, I see. Doesn't your small-business-owner ex have something similar?" Liam teased, leaning in as he traced a finger along her jaw, reminding her exactly who she was talking to and that she was safe with him.
Clara's surprise instantly melted into a defiant scowl. "Shut up! I'm not scared, just a little surprised," she lashed back, her voice tight with embarrassment and pique.
Clara's blush deepened, her eyes still fixed on the rigid length straining against his boxers.
"He isn't... he isn't as big as yours, to be honest," she admitted, the quiet confession a sign that the tease had worked.
She wasn't fleeing; she was accepting the challenge.
Liam chuckled, a low, satisfied sound.
"Then don't be scared, it won't be that bad." He assured her, injecting just enough sincerity to soothe the surprise while keeping the command sharp.
Clara nodded, inhaling a deep breath.
She reached out and, with surprisingly steady hands, grabbed the hem of his boxer briefs.
She eased them down, revealing the full, hard length of his cock.
It was thick, veiny, and stood proud, throbbing faintly with blood flow.
The head was a deep maroon, glistening slightly, and the shaft was a potent mix of pink and brown skin. It truly was impressive, a full eight inches of length, with a girth that spoke of serious stretching potential.
Clara stared for another drawn-out moment, cataloging the details, before she finally pushed her hair back behind her ears, taking care to move the long strands completely out of the way.
She took hold of the heavy weight in her small hands, her fingers barely able to wrap around its circumference.
The contrast between her delicate touch and the intimidating size was potent. She guided the tip to her mouth, parting her lips gently.
It was a slow, careful introduction. Her tongue darted out, tracing the wet ring of the coronal ridge, testing the slickness of the pre-come already beading there.
She took him in slowly, inch by inch, starting with only the head, then using her hands to help guide the rest past her teeth, ensuring she didn't choke or scratch him.
Clara's pace told him everything.
'Slow and tender. The system knew what it was talking about. She's amazing.'
She seemed intent on experiencing every texture and sensation, her eyes watching his face constantly, looking for signs of approval.
'She totally different from Tasha. It's more like she takes her time caring for my dick rather than punishing it,' Liam thought, the difference immediately palpable.
Tasha had always focused on speed and force, almost a competitive need to make him lose control. Clara was meticulous, a sensual explorer.
The deep warmth of her mouth was incredible.
She used her tongue in long, slow strokes along the underside, then curled it around the ridge, mimicking the deep, pleasurable friction of intercourse.
The slight suction on the backstroke was a dizzying sensation.
Liam leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes, letting out a long, shuddering sigh of pure pleasure.
'Thank God for the system's sexual resilience. Without it, I'd be finished after what she just pulled.'
Clara continued her work, her head bobbing in a steady, deep rhythm.
She started incorporating a slight, pleasurable roughness, occasionally sucking hard on the tip, then pulling back just shy of the base, always using her hands to keep the rhythm steady and deep.
Liam's hips began to twitch involuntarily, lifting off the couch to meet her thrusts.
He reached down, his fingers burying themselves in her soft blonde hair, not pulling, but holding.
"That's so good, Clara. So damn good," he breathed out, following the system's guidance by reinforcing the pleasure she was giving him with praise.
"You're a natural. You know exactly what I need."
The praise visibly spurred her on.
She intensified her pace, her eyes still darting up to his face, looking for that smile, that nod of approval.
She took the entire length, then used her hands to pinch lightly at his balls, adding a layer of subtle, unexpected dominance that made him groan.
He was fast approaching the edge. His vision blurred, and the pleasure became pain, a glorious, agonizing knot tightening in his groin. He knew he couldn't hold out much longer.
Liam's hand, which had been gently stroking her hair, suddenly tightened its grip.
'This is where I go rough. This is how I push her over the edge.'
"Stop," he commanded, his voice raw and demanding, cutting through the soft sounds of their rhythm.
Clara pulled back instantly, her eyes wide with concern, a small wet mark clinging to her cheek. She was about to speak, but Liam didn't give her the chance.
"No, don't talk. Just keep your mouth on my cock," he growled, the rough tone meant to erase the last vestige of the nice-guy routine.
He released her hair only to slide his hands to the back of her head, locking his fingers tightly at the base of her skull.
"I'm coming, and I want you to take all of it," he ordered, his voice losing all traces of gentleness.
Before she could react, Liam thrust his hips forward, plunging his entire length deep into the back of her throat, pinning her head against his thighs.
The sudden, forceful movement, coupled with the pressure on her throat, caused her eyes to water, but she didn't fight him, instead letting out a choked, muffled sound of surprise and acceptance.
Liam began pumping hard and fast, riding the tight warmth of her mouth.
He could feel her throat convulsing with every stroke, her gag reflex fighting the invasion, but he didn't relent.
He kept his grip firm, holding her head steady as he drove into the deepest, warmest part of her.
"Take it! Take it for me, you good girl!" he grunted, the words of praise mixed with the rough command he had learned from different porn videos hit the identified kinks perfectly.
That combination of the deep penetration and the power exchange was overwhelming.
With a final, explosive surge, Liam spilled his load deep into her mouth, his body shaking with the intensity of the orgasm.
He held her head there, keeping her captive until the last drop was gone, his fingers tight in her hair.
[System Notification: New Trait Unlocked: Sexual Resilience
Stamina Unlocked: The user can now engage in prolonged sexual activity without tiring. The body's physical limits have been bypassed, allowing for near-limitless stroking capacity.
Strength Increase: The user's physical strength has been augmented to a level significantly exceeding that of a normal human.]
Liam stared at the new notification before finally slumping back against the couch, panting, he slowly released his grip.
Clara immediately pulled back, leaning forward on her knees, coughing slightly, tears streaming down her face from the intensity and the force.
She looked up at him, her eyes still wide, her cheeks flushed a deep, mottled red.
She quickly swiped the residue from her mouth with the back of her hand, but her expression, surprisingly, wasn't one of anger or disgust. It was a chaotic mix of shock, submission, and a strange, thrilling excitement.
When he finally slumped back against the couch, panting, he slowly released his grip. Clara immediately pulled back, leaning forward on her knees, coughing slightly.
Her expression was a chaotic mix of shock, submission, and a strange, thrilling excitement.
As he looked at the number on her head:
[65/100]
'Sixty-five. That's actually not far from a complete score, if only the system would let me continue.'
Clara froze in front of him, locked in place mid-motion.
The frustration barely had time to settle before a new notification slammed across his vision, bright and impossible to ignore.
Everything was about to shift, and the system clearly wasn't done helping him yet.