An Extra’s Rise in an Eroge - Chapter 275

Capítulo 275: Sol [3]

“You talk too much! Just put it inside me already, you asshole!”

Arthur’s smirk vanished, replaced by a dark, predatory hunger. “As you wish.”

He didn’t give her a second to prepare. He grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh until they left white marks, and lined his cock up with her dripping entrance. With one brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.

“Gaaaaah!”

Sol screamed, her back arching off the mattress, her toes curling painfully. The invasion was absolute. She was impossibly tight—a virgin tightness that felt like a vice grip around his shaft. Her inner walls clamped down on him, hot and wet, fluttering in shock.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Arthur groaned, gritting his teeth as he held himself deep inside her, letting her adjust to his size. “Breathe, Sol. Breathe.”

“It… it’s too big,” she whined, clutching his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but beneath the pain, Arthur could see the haze of overwhelming pleasure.

“You’re taking it just fine,” he growled.

He pulled back almost all the way, the friction searing, before slamming back in.

Slap.

“Ah! Arthur!”

“That’s my name,” he snarled. He began to pistion, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Thrust. Pull. Thrust. Pull. Every time he bottomed out, hitting her cervix, Sol’s eyes rolled back, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream of ecstasy.

“Look at you,” Arthur taunted, grabbing her breast and squeezing the nipple hard. ” The great System, reduced to a trembling mess. You love this, don’t you? Being used like this?”

“Y-yes… fuck… yes!” Sol sobbed, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.

He pounded into her relentlessly, the sound of wet flesh slapping against wet flesh filling the room. He was merciless, hitting her prostate with surgical precision until she was babbling nonsense.

“I’m gonna cum,” Arthur warned, his pace becoming frantic.

“Do it! Fill me!”

He slammed into her one last time, grinding his hips against hers as he erupted. He poured rope after hot rope of sperm deep into her womb, branding her insides. Sol convulsed around him, her inner walls milking him dry as she screamed through her own climax.

Arthur collapsed on top of her, panting. For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing.

But the night was far from over.

Arthur moved to pull out, but Sol’s legs tightened around his waist.

“Where are you going?” she panted, her voice husky.

“Round one is over. I need water.”

“No.” Sol pushed against his chest, her strength surprisingly formidable. She shoved him until he rolled onto his back, and she scrambled on top of him. Her hair was a wild, golden halo, her lips swollen and bitten red.

The shyness was gone. In its place was an imperious, hungry goddess.

“You called me a novice,” she hissed, her eyes narrowing. She sat up, straddling his hips. His cock, still semi-hard and slick with their mixed fluids, slipped out of her, leaving a gaping, cream-filled hole exposed to the air. “I’ll show you who the novice is.”

She reached down, grabbed his hardening shaft, and guided it back to her entrance. She didn’t wait for him to thrust. She impaled herself, sinking down slowly, inch by glorious inch, maintaining intense eye contact.

“Fuck,” Arthur hissed, his hands gripping her thighs. The visual was mind-breaking—her plump breasts bouncing slightly, her stomach glistening with sweat, and his dick disappearing inside her.

Sol began to move. At first, she was clumsy, just bouncing up and down. But she learned fast. Terrifyingly fast.

“Is this right, Arthur?” she mocked, rolling her hips in a grinding motion that rubbed her clit directly against his pubic bone. “Does this feel good?”

“You bitch,” Arthur groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. “Yes.”

She picked up the pace. She wasn’t just riding him; she was devouring him. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest, her hair brushing his face as she galloped on top of him.

Slap-slap-slap-slap.

“Who’s in charge now?” she gasped, tossing her head back. Her breasts swayed violently, the pink nipples hard as diamonds. “I am… I am draining you dry!”

She squeezed her PC muscles, clamping down on his shaft like a milking machine. Arthur felt his control slipping instantly. She was grinding the life out of him.

“Sol, slow down—”

“No!” She slammed her hips down, forcing him deeper than before. “More! I want more!”

She rode him through a second climax, forcing him to cum while she was still grinding, her own orgasm hitting her so hard she shook violently, her juices coating his thighs.

****

Hours bled into one another. The bed became too limiting.

“Get up,” Arthur commanded some time later. He dragged a stumbling, dazed Sol off the mattress.

He backed her up against the floor-to-ceiling window. The city lights of the Academy grounds twinkled below, indifferent to the debauchery happening in the high-rise dorm.

“Arthur, people might see,” Sol whispered, though she pressed her tits against the cool glass, arching her back.

“Let them look,” he growled. He lifted one of her legs, hooking it over his arm. Standing, he drove into her from behind.

The angle hit her G-spot relentlessly. Sol’s face was pressed against the glass, her breath fogging it up. Arthur fucked her with long, deep strokes, his hand reaching around to play with her clit, mashing the sensitive button until she was screaming into the glass.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

“You dirty slut,” he whispered in her ear. “Getting fucked against a window like a common whore.”

“I am… I’m your whore!” Sol wailed, completely broken by the pleasure.

When they finished there, leaving a smear of fluids on the pristine glass, they moved to the study table.

Arthur swept his tactical maps and books onto the floor with a crash. He lifted Sol onto the hard wood, spreading her legs wide. She was a mess—covered in sweat, saliva, and drying semen. Her pussy was swollen, a beautiful, gaping red flower.

“Again,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper. “Arthur, please… again.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He stepped between her legs, grabbing her ankles and pulling her to the edge of the table.

He fucked her like an animal, guttural grunts tearing from his throat. Sol wrapped her legs around his neck, pulling him deeper, her nails raking down his back, drawing blood. It was raw, primal mating—no technique, just friction and heat and the desperate need to be as close as physically possible.

By the time the first rays of dawn began to creep into the room, the bedroom looked like a war zone. The sheets were tangled and soaked, the table was askew, and the window was smeared.

Arthur and Sol collapsed back onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and cum. Sol curled into his side, her head on his chest, her breathing finally evening out.

“Not… a novice,” she mumbled sleepily, her hand resting possessively over his heart.

Arthur chuckled weakly, kissing the top of her head. “No. Definitely not.”

He pulled the duvet over them, the scent of sex heavy in the air, knowing that the scaling of the world might be broken, but this new reality was something he wouldn’t trade for anything.

****

The morning sun sliced through the smudged floor-to-ceiling window, illuminating the carnage of the night. The room smelled heavy—a thick, musky cocktail of sweat, dried sex, and the metallic tang of exhausted bodies.

Arthur blinked his eyes open, groaning as he shifted. His muscles felt loose, relaxed in a way they hadn’t been in years, but his skin felt tight. He looked down. His chest and stomach were mapped with drying white flakes and sticky patches where Sol had ground herself against him.

Beside him, the physical manifestation of the System was comatose.

Sol lay on her stomach, her face buried in the pillow, one arm dangling off the side of the bed. The sheet had slipped down to her waist, exposing her back. It was a canvas of their night—red handprints faded on her hips, scratch marks down her spine, and a particularly dark love bite right at the curve of her neck.

Arthur ran a hand down her spine. She didn’t stir. He moved his hand lower, cupping her ass. It was cold from the morning air, but between her thighs, it was a different story.

He gently pried her legs apart.

“Jesus,” he whispered, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Her pussy was swollen, the lips puffed and a deep, angry pink. It was gaping slightly, a testament to the sheer volume of abuse she’d taken. A mixture of his seed and her own juices had dried on her inner thighs in pearlescent streaks, and a fresh trickle of white was slowly leaking out of her, staining the already ruined sheets.

He couldn’t resist. He slid his thumb over her entrance, pushing a glob of semidried cum back inside.

“Mmph…” Sol stirred, her brows knitting together. She tried to move her legs to close them, but winced immediately. “Ouch.”