Nick was breathing hard. His head flat back on the metal table .. now hot and sweaty under his groaning flesh. Eyes closed. She’d raced him to the top of the hill. Both going for it, equally matched in stamina and speed.
But at the last moment .. just as the finishing line was in sight .. she tricked him, she tripped him up. Nick was left hurt, aching, injured. As triumphant the bitch breasted the tape.
She’d dismounted. She’d slid herself off him. Like she’d remove her dildo when she’d finished. Sling it carelessly into the corner. It had done what she’d wanted. Nick Carter’s manliness was discarded with the same concern.
Strung-out on the cold metal top. His cock raging, unfulfilled. His passions racing in his blood, unrequited. His manliness used, his maleness abused, she’d got her way. A dildo. An object. Counted for nothing. A spent force. Heading for the trash.