The Snowmaiden, A Bride for Krampus - Jeanette Lynn Page 0,27
dropped down, until he was on all fours, hunched like Gollum taunting Bilbo, and moved until he was behind me, just out of my sight. Working the ties at my hands the rest of the way loose, I’d just divested myself of the thick rope when he came pressing in on me from behind. His clicking croon started up, sending my body thrumming in answer.
Shit. I was Krampus fucked. Was this like their sickness? Was I going to get gnarled and furious now too? A bone deep sated feeling, washing over me like a warm hug, had me wondering if this was the worst that could have happened.
Before another thought could be given to it, he was pressing my chest to the ground, his heavy weight easing over me pinning me. His breath was hot at my nape, nuzzling through my hair until it was out of his way.
The beast worked fast, biting at my shoulder, tilting my ass up right where he needed it. Knobbed end notching at my entrance, he slammed home as his teeth sank deep.
Those penile points along his shaft and the miniature dick-like stems crowning his cock began to move at the base, thickening with his shaft until there was nowhere else for his member to stuff itself inside me without threatening to split me in two. Those pronounced protuberances pressed onto other sensitive parts of my person. A grunt left him as one of those swollen points rubbed my clit, the other teasing along my back passage, and my cock-stuffed channel clenched. That monster impaling me shuddered and jerked. A groan left him. He panted into my shoulders as he held me there, hot breaths puffing the air. I knew then he’d just come.
My body shook as he slowly began to shift his hips, pulling back a little to thrust right back in. Those cock ornaments jerked, shivering all the way up his length, almost undulating like they were shivering along with him, and I was quivering from head to toe along with him.
When he began to pull back and then slid back home, a gasp left me and my channel began to spasm. Faster and harder, more and more, pulling out farther to ram back home with every pussy clenching pass, realizing I squeezed him harder if he hit the right spot and picked up the pace, he began pummeling me like his little Krampus heart might burst if he didn’t come again now. Very...very soon.
“Ah!” A sharp cry left me as he pounded into me and began alternating grinding his groin into mine and mashing the base-crown points of his cock into my clit. It was the first cry to be dragged from me completely in ecstasy. My body was trembling so hard he was the only thing holding me up. I could feel him buried so deep, so thick his dick had a pounding heartbeat I could feel, I wondered if he was locked inside me. The lips of my sex strained to contain the swollen base of him. One short peek down between my legs, the odd knots visibly bulging along the underside of his shaft, one fat looking ring nub was left all to its lonesome on the Snowmaiden stuffing mission. I had a whole bag of dick marbles stuffed up inside me. My eyes slowly widened and I swallowed thickly. That wasn’t alarming, not in the least. Pleasure trumped my inner turmoil over my vagina gone dick knob marbles bag, and all but the euphoria still sweeping through me was forgotten. Could one die of pleasure?
“I’m dead,” I blurted, slumping down, ass stuck up high in the air as I melted into a boneless heap. My body still gave little jerks, spasms of mini orgasms. “I died… I’m totally dead,” I mumbled, closing my eyes to just lay here and hope I didn’t wake up frozen to the ground. Bits of chewed up apple chunk weren’t necessarily comfy beneath my cheek, but I was so relieved to be alive, if by Krampus whorin’ myself out at the moment, I couldn’t muster up even a slight grimace. Huffing pants left me as I focused on catching my breath, easing the heaving in my chest. An unusual warmth had overtaken me. I could feel the cold of the ground but it no longer bit at me as it once had. It was the Christmas gone wrong jizz, the anti-Santa-beast bite, had to be why I wasn’t half dead from the