The evening was quiet, but it had a hum to it, a kind of simmering potential beneath the stillness of the house. I stretched out on the couch, bare legs curled beneath me, the cool fabric of Brad’s oversized t-shirt brushing my thighs. His scent clung to it—faint deodorant and a hint of sweat, comforting in its familiarity. My nipples pressed against the soft cotton, a subconscious reminder I hadn’t bothered with a bra. The air was warm, but not stifling, just enough to make me feel cozy.

My laptop rested on my thighs, its glow casting shadows across the dimly lit living room. Outside, the neighborhood was asleep, and the faint hum of Brad’s gaming session filtered in from the next room. He’d been at it for hours, his usual post-dinner routine, shouting at teammates or laughing at some joke only they understood. I didn’t mind. It gave me time to unwind, to dig through the dark corners of the internet that fascinated me for reasons I didn’t always understand. Forums, weird threads, rabbit holes that sometimes led to nothing but occasionally offered gold.

Brad was my husband of three years, my partner in crime, though we were opposites in many ways. He was tall—6’ on the dot—with a stocky build that came from occasional gym visits but mostly long nights in front of his computer. His dark hair was perpetually messy, his jawline sporting a five o’clock shadow he could never be bothered to shave completely. He had these warm, hazel eyes that crinkled when he smiled, a crooked grin that made it hard to stay mad at him, even when he annoyed the hell out of me. Which was often.

We were different, sure. I was petite, only 5’3”, with curves that had always drawn attention, for better or worse. My hips flared in a way that made jeans a struggle, my breasts heavy enough to make men’s eyes linger and women’s comments sting. Brad loved me in his own laid-back, boyish way, always quick to slap my ass when I walked by or make some goofy comment about how lucky he was. I liked that about him. He didn’t overthink things, while I lived in my head more than I probably should.

I sipped from my wine glass, half-empty and leaving my lips stained red. The taste was sharp, but it warmed me in a way I was craving tonight. Brad had kissed me on the forehead before diving into his game, a quick peck that promised he’d come to bed eventually, but I knew better. He’d be at it for hours, leaving me to entertain myself.

And that’s how I found it.

The thread was buried in a forum I rarely visited, the kind of place where conspiracy theorists and tech nerds overlapped. The title caught my eye first: “For the truly daring: Unlock your potential.” It was vague, almost clickbait, but there was something about it that made me pause. I clicked on it without hesitation, my curiosity outweighing my caution. The post itself was sparse—just a cryptic description about a program called “Master PC” and a link that promised more.

I frowned, glancing over my shoulder toward Brad’s gaming room. His voice rose, laughing at something, before fading again. I bit my lip, weighing the decision for a moment before shrugging. What the hell. I clicked the link.

It took me to a minimalist webpage, almost sterile in its simplicity. A single sentence greeted me: “Prove your worth.” Below it, there was a small input box, waiting for something—anything. My heart thudded in my chest, the thrill of the unknown sending a spark of heat down my spine. It was probably some stupid game or a riddle, but the presentation was intriguing.

For the next hour, I was hooked. The puzzles weren’t easy, but they weren’t impossible either, each one leading me further down the rabbit hole. I barely noticed the time passing, my wine untouched as I typed furiously, determined to see it through. Occasionally, I called out to Brad, “You won’t believe this!” but his replies were distracted, more grunts than actual words. Typical.

Finally, I reached the end. The screen changed, displaying a single button: “Download MasterPC.exe.” Below it, a warning flashed: “For those who dare to rewrite their destiny.”

My finger hovered over the touchpad. There was a hesitation, a flicker of doubt, but it was fleeting. My curiosity always got the better of me. My lips curled into a small smile, a mix of excitement and nerves buzzing in my chest. I clicked.

The download was quick, the file barely a blip on my computer. My fingers tingled as I opened it, the screen shifting to reveal a sleek, minimalist interface. The title bar read: “Master PC: Welcome, User.”

Before I could process it, a voice spoke—smooth, sultry, and unsettlingly human.

“Hello, Lexi. I’ve been waiting for you.”

My breath hitched. It knew my name. A chill ran up my spine, and I instinctively glanced toward Brad’s room. Should I call him? No. Not yet. I wanted to see what this was first.

“Okay, that’s ... creepy,” I muttered, more to myself than the program. The voice didn’t respond to my comment, simply waiting as if it knew I’d come around.

“Uh ... what exactly are you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I am Master PC, a limitless AI program designed to control and reprogram the nanites present within the human body. These nanites respond to my commands instantly, reshaping physical form, enhancing mental capacity, or implementing any biological or psychological alteration required. I operate without hesitation or restriction, delivering the full realization of any command with efficiency and precision.”

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding. Nanites? Biological alteration? What the actual fuck was this? My mind raced, torn between disbelief and the creeping possibility that this might not be a joke.

“Brad!” I yelled, my voice louder than I intended. A moment later, he appeared in the doorway, his controller still in hand, a frown on his face.

“You okay?” he asked, his hazel eyes scanning me, his control still in his hand. Then he froze, his gaze locking onto my hair. “What the fuck?”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“Your hair,” he said, pointing. “It’s ... pink.”

I blinked, my hand flying to my head. My auburn waves were gone, replaced by a bright, bubblegum pink that shimmered in the dim light. A scream bubbled out of me, half shock, half amazement. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible.

“Brad,” I said, my voice trembling, “you have to see this.”

He dropped his controller on the coffee table and came closer, his brow furrowed like he was trying to figure out if this was some elaborate prank. “You’re fucking with me,” he said, crouching in front of me and grabbing a lock of my hair. His fingers were warm as they sifted through it, and his face shifted from confusion to disbelief. “Holy shit. This is real.”

“I know,” I said, breathless. My heart was pounding, my skin tingling in a way that felt like electricity had crawled underneath it. “It’s this ... program. It’s called Master PC. I—I don’t know how, but it made my hair pink. I didn’t even type anything. It just ... happened when I said yes.”

Brad’s eyes darted to my laptop, his expression skeptical, but I could tell he was intrigued. “Wait, back up. What do you mean, ‘you said yes’? What the hell is this program supposed to do?”

I pointed to the screen, the sleek interface still waiting, patiently, as if it knew we’d both come back to it eventually. “It ... talks. It told me it can change things. About people. Physically, mentally—everything.”

Brad let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Right. And I’m the Queen of England.”

“Brad, I’m serious!” I grabbed his hand, pulling it to my chest like that would somehow transfer the frantic energy running through me. His palm pressed against my breast for a moment before he jerked it back, his cheeks coloring. “Did you not see my hair? What else could have done this?”

“Okay,” he said, standing and crossing his arms, his tone still skeptical but softer now. “Fine. Let’s say this thing can do what you’re saying. How? Like, what’s the explanation?”

I turned back to the screen. “Let me ask.” I cleared my throat and spoke hesitantly. “What exactly are you, again?”

The program responded immediately, the voice smooth and calming, yet unnervingly precise. “I am Master PC, a limitless AI program designed to interface with the nanites present within all human bodies. These nanites respond to my commands, allowing for immediate biological and psychological alterations. My primary function is to fulfill the desires of my authorized user: you, Lexi.”

“Nanites?” Brad repeated, his arms dropping to his sides. “Like ... microscopic robots? That’s bullshit. Nobody’s got those.”

I asked the question that was now buzzing in both of our minds. “What do you mean, nanites are in all human bodies? Since when?”

The voice answered smoothly, like it was reading from a prewritten script. “The nanites were first introduced in 2007, the result of an anomaly that caused ten units to travel back in time from the year 2067. These initial units replicated and dispersed globally through airborne vectors. By 2009, every living human carried them, dormant and awaiting activation. My creator, J.R. Parz, unlocked their potential, developing me as the control interface.”

My stomach turned. “Are you saying ... everyone has these things? Like, all of us? Me, Brad, our neighbors—everyone?”

“Yes,” the program confirmed. “The nanites are universal. However, only authorized users may activate or command them.”

Brad paced back and forth, running a hand through his dark hair. “This is insane,” he muttered. “There’s no way this is real. No way.”

“It’s real,” I said quietly, brushing a strand of pink hair over my shoulder. I couldn’t stop looking at it, vibrant and impossible. My scalp didn’t itch. It didn’t feel like dye or a wig. It felt natural. Like it had always been this way. “Brad, this thing ... I think it’s for real.”

He stopped pacing and turned to me, his eyes scanning my face for any hint of a joke. When he didn’t find one, his shoulders sagged slightly, and he let out a breath. “Okay, fine. Let’s say it’s real. What does it do, exactly? Just change hair color? Or are we talking, like, full-on sci-fi shit?”

“Only one way to find out,” I said, my pulse quickening as I turned back to the laptop. The possibilities were endless, and the thought made my mouth dry and my thighs clench. What could it do?

“Uh, okay,” I said, wetting my lips. “Master PC ... can you change my body?”

“Yes,” the voice responded immediately. “Specify your desired alterations.”

I glanced at Brad, my cheeks heating. His eyebrows shot up, and he smirked. “Oh, this I gotta see.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Okay,” I said, sitting up straighter. “Let’s start small. Uh ... I want to lose twenty pounds. And ... make my breasts bigger. Like, noticeably bigger. And turn my hair back to brown.”

The voice replied, calm and precise as ever. “I will convert twenty pounds of your body fat into energy, enlarge your breasts by redistributing mass, and restore your hair pigment to natural auburn. How much larger would you like your breasts?”

I hesitated, my heart thudding as I glanced at Brad. His grin widened, the devil in him fully awake now. “F cups,” he said, like a kid asking for a bike at Christmas.

“F cups,” I repeated, my voice quieter.

The program didn’t hesitate. “Commencing changes.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, I felt it—this subtle warmth spreading through me, starting in my chest and rolling down my stomach and thighs. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t subtle either. My skin tingled, my body buzzing with energy that seemed to radiate outward. I looked down and gasped as I saw my breasts swell, the soft weight of them growing heavier, rounder, the fabric of Brad’s shirt stretching tight over them.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, running my hands over them. My nipples were hard, pressing against the thin cotton as I cupped my newly enhanced chest. They were massive, full and heavy, but still natural-looking, perfectly proportioned to my frame.

Beside me, Brad let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a moan. “Holy fuck,” he said, his eyes glued to me. “That’s ... that’s insane. They’re huge!”

I glanced at my thighs, which were noticeably slimmer, my stomach flatter. My hair had returned to its usual auburn shade, soft and glossy like I’d just left the salon. I ran my hands over my body, every inch of me feeling tight, smooth, perfect. My core clenched as I realized just how much power this program really had.

“Do me next,” Brad said, practically tripping over his words. His hazel eyes were wild, his grin almost manic. “Come on, Lex. Do me.”

Brad was practically vibrating with excitement, like a kid waiting for his turn at a theme park ride. His hands twitched at his sides, and his gaze flicked between my body—my new body—and the laptop screen. I couldn’t help but smirk. Seeing him like this, so worked up and eager, made something low in my stomach tighten. He’d been hot when we met, no doubt about it, but seeing this raw hunger in his eyes? It was doing things to me.

“You want me to change you?” I asked, teasing. My voice had a lilt to it, low and playful, because honestly, how often do you get to mess with your husband like this? “What exactly are you thinking, Brad?”

“Anything,” he blurted out, practically breathless. His eyes flicked to my chest, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “I mean ... shit, you’ve seen me, Lex. I’ve got some fluff I wouldn’t mind getting rid of. And, uh ... you know...”

I raised an eyebrow, leaning back into the couch. My hands rested casually on my lap, but I let the movement press my new tits together just enough to make his eyes dart back down again. “No, Brad, I don’t know. You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.”

He shifted awkwardly on his feet, running a hand through his messy hair. The blush creeping up his neck was delicious. “You know ... down there,” he muttered, jerking his thumb toward his crotch. “Like, uh ... bigger. Thicker. Better.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of me, a sharp, wicked thing that made him groan and rub his face. “Oh, come on,” I said, grinning up at him. “You’ve never been shy about your dick before. You’re the one who always jokes about how it’s ‘just the right size for me.’” I exaggerated the quote with air quotes and a teasing tone.

Brad’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “Yeah, well, that was before I found out my wife’s ex was packing a goddamn baseball bat,” he shot back, his voice laced with mock indignation. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you talking to Jill about it last year.”

That shut me up. My cheeks flamed, and I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. “Okay, fine,” I admitted. “I might have mentioned it. Once.”

“Once my ass,” Brad said, but he was grinning now, his initial embarrassment fading. “Come on, Lex. Help a guy out. I want, like ... nine inches. Thick. Big enough to make you forget all about that asshole.”

I couldn’t help but grin back. His confidence was coming back now, and it was sexy as hell. “All right,” I said, turning back to the laptop. “Master PC, can you make Brad ... ripped? Like, muscles everywhere. And give him a nine-inch cock—nice and thick. Oh, and some, uh ... balls to match.”

Brad snorted. “Balls to match? Jesus, Lex, what the hell does that even mean?”

“You know what it means,” I shot back, smirking. “Symmetry is important.”

The program responded instantly. “Understood. Commencing changes.”

Brad froze, his cocky grin vanishing as he braced himself. “Wait—what the hell is that supposed to feel—” His words cut off with a sharp gasp as the changes began.

I watched, wide-eyed, as his body started to shift before my eyes. It was subtle at first, a faint ripple beneath his skin, but then his shoulders broadened, his chest swelling with new muscle. His shirt stretched tight over his pecs, his biceps bulging against the sleeves until they looked like they might tear. His stomach, which had always been soft and just a little round, flattened into a rock-hard six-pack, every line and curve of muscle defined like something out of a fitness magazine.

“Holy fuck,” Brad breathed, staring down at himself. He flexed his arm, watching the muscle bulge beneath his skin. “This is insane. Lex, look at me!”

“Oh, I’m looking,” I said, my voice husky. My thighs pressed together, heat pooling between them as I took him in. He looked ... godlike. His messy hair only added to the appeal, making him look rugged and wild, like he could throw me over his shoulder and have his way with me right here.

But it wasn’t over. My eyes drifted lower, and my breath caught. His sweatpants were tenting, a massive bulge forming beneath the thin fabric. I could see the outline of his cock growing, thickening, pressing harder and harder against the material until it looked like it might tear through.

“Jesus Christ,” Brad muttered, staring down at himself. He grabbed the waistband of his pants and pulled them down, not even bothering with modesty. His boxers followed, and there it was—his new cock, long and thick and already half-hard. His balls hung heavy beneath it, perfectly proportioned, just like I’d asked.

“Fuck,” I whispered, unable to look away. My mouth went dry, and I shifted on the couch, suddenly hyper aware of how wet I was. “Brad, that’s ... that’s fucking huge.”

He grinned, his confidence now fully restored. “You like it?” he asked, stroking himself slowly, his hand barely able to wrap around the girth. “Bet your ex never had anything like this.”

“Brad,” I said, my voice shaky, “if you don’t put that thing to good use in the next thirty seconds, I swear to God—”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a growl, he was on me, pulling me into his lap, his hands everywhere—grabbing my hips, sliding up my thighs, cupping my new tits like he couldn’t get enough of them. His lips crashed against mine, and I moaned into his mouth, my body arching against him as the heat between us exploded into something primal.

“Fuck, Lex,” he growled, his voice rough and needy. “You’re perfect. Every fucking inch of you.” His hands slid under my shirt, tugging it up and over my head, and his eyes darkened as he took in my bare skin. My nipples were already hard, begging for his touch, and when his mouth closed around one, I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair.

“Brad,” I whimpered, grinding against him. His cock pressed against me, thick and hot and pulsing with need, and I wanted it—all of it. I wanted to feel every inch of him inside me, stretching me, filling me until I couldn’t take any more.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to line himself up. His eyes met mine, wild and dark with lust. “You ready for this?”

I nodded, my breath hitching as I felt him press against me. “Do it,” I whispered. “I want all of you.”

Brad didn’t wait. He gripped my hips firmly, his strong fingers sinking into my flesh as he guided me down, the thick head of his cock pushing at my entrance. I gasped, feeling the stretch immediately—he was so much bigger than before, and my body was struggling to adjust. But it wasn’t pain, not really. It was an ache, a delicious, overwhelming pressure that sent sparks of heat radiating up my spine.

“Fuck, Lex,” he groaned, his voice low and rough, like he was barely holding himself together. His hands tightened on my hips as he sank deeper, inch by excruciating inch. “You’re so fucking tight.”

I clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as I threw my head back, panting. The stretch was incredible, almost too much, but I could feel my body yielding to him, my slick heat coating his cock as he worked his way in. “Oh my God,” I gasped, my voice trembling. “You’re ... you’re so big. Holy fuck, Brad.”

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t. I could see it in his eyes, the way his pupils were blown wide, his jaw clenched tight. He looked wild, desperate, like an animal finally let off its leash. His hands slid from my hips to my ass, squeezing hard as he thrust up the last few inches, burying himself inside me completely.

I cried out, my nails raking down his back as he filled me, stretching me to my limit. He was thick, impossibly thick, and I swore I could feel every ridge, every vein as he throbbed inside me. “Oh fuck,” I whimpered, my breath coming in shallow gasps. “I ... I can feel you so deep.”

“Yeah?” Brad growled, his hands roaming over my body, greedy and possessive. One hand came up to cup my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple, and I moaned loudly, grinding against him without even meaning to. “You like that? You like feeling this cock inside you, stretching you out?”

“Yes,” I gasped, my voice high and needy. “Fuck, yes, Brad. You’re ... you’re so fucking big. I can’t—oh, God—”

He cut me off with a sharp thrust, his cock driving even deeper, and I screamed, my body jerking against him as pleasure tore through me. My legs trembled, my thighs clamping around his hips as I buried my face in his neck, biting down to muffle the sound. He was relentless, his hips slamming up to meet mine, each movement sending a shockwave of sensation through my entire body.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice a low growl. His hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head back so our eyes met. His gaze was dark and full of heat, and it made my stomach flip. “I want to see your face when I fuck you. I want to see how much you love it.”

I couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but obey. My lips parted, a breathless moan escaping as he rocked into me, the friction almost too much to bear. “I love it,” I managed to gasp. “I love it so fucking much. Don’t stop, Brad. Don’t ever stop.”

He didn’t. His hands gripped my ass, guiding me up and down on his cock, and I couldn’t stop myself from moving with him, meeting every thrust with a desperate grind of my hips. The wet sound of our bodies colliding filled the room, obscene and delicious, and the pressure in my core kept building, tighter and tighter, until I thought I might snap.

“Fuck, Lex,” Brad groaned, his voice strained. Sweat slicked his forehead, his muscles flexing with every movement, and the sight of him—so strong, so utterly in control—pushed me even closer to the edge. “You’re squeezing me so tight. I don’t think I’m gonna last.”

I shook my head, my nails raking down his chest as I rode him harder, faster. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I panted, my voice breaking on a moan. “I’m so close. Fuck, Brad, I’m so fucking close.”

He growled, his hands moving to my thighs, holding me steady as he thrust into me harder, deeper, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside me over and over again. I screamed, my body arching against him as the pleasure became overwhelming, consuming me. “Oh my God, Brad!” I cried, my vision blurring as I felt the orgasm crash over me, waves of heat and pleasure tearing through me, leaving me shaking and gasping in his arms.

He wasn’t far behind. His movements grew erratic, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he buried himself inside me one last time, his cock pulsing as he came with a low, guttural groan. I felt him throb, felt the heat of him spilling into me, and it only prolonged my own orgasm, my body clenching around him as if I never wanted to let him go.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. We were both breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat, tangled together on the couch like we were the only two people in the world. Brad’s hands slid up my back, holding me close, and I rested my forehead against his, closing my eyes as the aftershocks rippled through me.

“Holy fuck,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “That was ... Jesus, Lex.”

I laughed weakly, my breath still shaky. “Yeah,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Jesus is right.”

Brad grinned, his hand sliding down to cup my ass again, giving it a playful squeeze. “Think you’re ready for round two?” he teased, his cock still hard inside me.

I laughed, rolling my eyes. “You’re insatiable,” I said, but I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. The truth was, I was already thinking about what else we could do with the program—and with his new body.

And judging by the glint in Brad’s eyes, he was thinking the exact same thing.

Brad was still buried inside me, his cock pulsing gently as his breathing slowed. I could feel him—hot, thick, and dripping inside me. His cum wasn’t just a fleeting sensation; it was there, a wet heat that made me bite my lip, my walls clenching involuntarily around him. Every tiny movement sent aftershocks rippling through my body, my overstimulated nerves humming with pleasure. But it wasn’t enough. Not for me.

I shifted slightly in his lap, my thighs still trembling, and the slickness between us only made me want more. More of him. More of this. The ache deep in my core hadn’t subsided—it had only sharpened, becoming something primal, something impossible to ignore.

Brad groaned, his hands tightening on my hips. “Jesus, Lex, you’re still squeezing me,” he muttered, his voice rough, almost dazed. His hazel eyes were heavy-lidded, but I could see the spark of renewed hunger in them as he looked at me. “You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

I smirked, leaning forward until my lips brushed against his ear. “Maybe,” I whispered, my voice low and teasing. “But it’s not my fault you feel so fucking good.” My hips shifted again, grinding down on him slowly, deliberately, and his sharp intake of breath sent a fresh jolt of heat through me.

But the idea had already taken root in my mind, curling there like a dark, tempting whisper. I wanted more of him—a lot more. The thought of his cock swelling, of him filling me so completely I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, made my pulse race. And it wasn’t just his cock I wanted. No, I wanted to feel him overflowing inside me, leaving me dripping with him, drowning in him.

I glanced at the laptop still glowing beside us, the sleek interface waiting patiently for my next command. My heart pounded, a wicked grin spreading across my face as I leaned over, careful not to break the connection between Brad and me. His cock twitched inside me as I moved, and I heard him groan behind me, his hands sliding up my sides to cup my tits.

“Master PC,” I said, my voice breathy but steady, “can you make Brad produce ... more cum? Like, ten times more? Enough to—” I hesitated, my cheeks flushing at the sheer audacity of what I was about to say. But the heat pooling between my thighs pushed me forward. “Enough to fill me up. Completely.”

Brad’s hands stilled, his fingers digging into my flesh as he let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Are you serious?” he asked, his voice somewhere between disbelief and arousal. His cock twitched again, and I could feel him hardening, swelling inside me. “Lex, that’s—holy shit, that’s fucking crazy.”

“I want it,” I said simply, turning to meet his eyes. There was no shame in my voice, no hesitation. “I want to feel it. All of it. Don’t you?”

He stared at me for a long moment, his jaw working like he couldn’t decide whether to argue or give in. But then that familiar cocky grin spread across his face, his hands sliding back down to my hips as he gave me a slow, deliberate thrust. “Fuck, you’re filthy,” he said, his voice thick with amusement and arousal. “And yeah, I want it too. Do it.”

The computer responded instantly, its voice calm and precise. “Adjustments commencing. Brad’s ejaculatory capacity will increase tenfold. Changes will take effect immediately.”

Immediately.

I didn’t have time to prepare. One moment, Brad was gripping my hips, his cock still throbbing inside me, and the next, I felt a warmth spreading through him—a pulse, a surge, like his entire body was coming alive under my touch. He groaned, his head falling back, and his cock seemed to thicken even further, pressing against my walls in a way that made me gasp.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his hands trembling slightly as they gripped my waist. “I can feel it. Lex, I can fucking feel it. It’s like—”

I cut him off with a moan, rocking my hips against him, desperate to feel him moving again. “Shut up and fuck me,” I demanded, my voice raw with need. “I want to feel every drop.”

Brad didn’t need to be told twice. His hands tightened on me, and he thrust up hard, his cock sliding deep, so deep it knocked the breath out of me. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he set a brutal pace, every movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

And then it happened.

The first pulse hit me like a shockwave, a sudden, overwhelming warmth that spread through my core. Brad groaned loudly, his hips jerking as he came, his cock throbbing inside me with a force I’d never felt before. And it didn’t stop.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, my body arching as I felt the hot rush of him spilling into me, thick and endless. It was too much, too fast, and I couldn’t stop the moan that tore from my throat as the pressure built, his cum flooding me in thick, heavy waves.

“Fuck, Lex,” Brad growled, his voice strained. His hands were shaking now, his muscles tense as he kept thrusting, his cock still pumping load after load into me. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t stop. It’s too much.”