I whimpered into his palm—muffled, desperate.

He shoved his sweats down—cock springing free, thick and heavy, slapping against my ass cheek.

No condom.

No prep beyond the slickness already dripping from me.

He notched the head at my entrance—slow, teasing—then pushed in.

One long, deep slide.

The stretch burned—beautiful, filthy burn—my walls fluttering around every inch as he sank to the hilt.

I moaned into his hand—high, broken.

The bedsprings creaked again—sharp, rhythmic—as he bottomed out.

“Quiet,” he growled. “Don’t wake Mom while your cousin’s cock is buried in your tight little cunt.”

He started moving—slow at first.

Long, deliberate strokes—pulling out until just the head stretched my entrance, then...