Quentin's Counterattack｜Pushed Until Weak, Voice Completely Out of Control・The Final Chapter Erupts

He continued to thrust into me while laughing proudly:
"The turned-over serfs sing their songs."

He said it was a counterattack,
but when it came to riding,
the so-called "attack" still had him putting in all the effort while thrusting,
riding me until I became softer and softer. 🥵

Clearly, both of us were already enjoying it immensely,
yet neither wanted to stop.
At the most sensitive moment,
I gasped and said, "Don't move..."
He replied with a laugh, "Then you move."
I felt so wronged:
"I can't... I can't move either."

In the end, I could only act spoiled and clingy,
begging him to take care of me and keep playing with me. 😵‍💫

But my body wouldn’t listen at all.
The longer we stayed in that indecisive state,
the more sensitive and trembling I became.
Being used made me feel completely weak,
my nipples swollen, and down below so sensitive,
each thrust felt like it was aiming for the most unbearable spots.

My partner just thrust into me a few more times,
and I was completely overwhelmed.

It was not ordinary pleasure,
but that kind of sensitivity being pushed higher,
rationality slowly worn away,
until finally, all that was left was gasping, trembling,
and sounds that couldn’t be suppressed.

Until——the peak of losing control, sensory overload. 🥵