The promise

The Prelude

Two mornings ago, he - my neighbor - kissed me softly, his lips lingering as he whispered, “Sorry for eating you out and then falling asleep on you. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging.” His hands traced my thighs, coaxing forgiveness from my trembling body. I smiled, knowing what awaited me the following night—last night.

And last night? A preview of pleasurable hell. His 10-inch, soda-can-thick cock split me raw, condoms shredded and discarded like confetti. He started by pinning me against the wall, forcing his thickness down my throat until I gagged, then bent me over the couch to hammer my cervix until the tenth or twelfth condom snapped. “Fuck these,” he growled, tossing the torn condom aside before slamming bare into me. I screamed, his girth stretching me obscenely as he roared “TAKE IT ALL!” and dumped his first load deep inside.

The Marathon
By midnight, he’d cream pied me over a dozen times—on the kitchen counter, against the balcony railing, draped over the bedframe—his thrusts relentless, his cum leaking from my swollen pussy with every step. At 3 AM, he carried me to the shower, fucking me under scalding hot water while his free hand choked me against the tile. “You’re just warming up,” he snarled, bottoming out with a snarl as his seed mixed with the spray. I blacked out twice, my body limp on his cock, only to wake with him still pounding into me, his teeth sinking into my shoulder.

The Ultimatum
This morning, he woke me with his tip already pressing against my sore entrance. “She’s gone at 3,” he hissed, sheathing himself in one brutal thrust. I sobbed, my nails drawing blood as he unloaded inside me again, then forced the morning-after pill down my throat. “Rest up,” he ordered, gripping my bruised hips. “I’ve got a stash of pills to keep this dick hard for days. You’ll swallow a morning after pill every morning—no accidents, just my cum flooding you. You’ll pass out on this cock nightly, wake up with it still inside you, and beg for more. I’ll pump you so full, you’ll feel me leaking out of you for weeks.”

The Countdown
Now I’m home—body trembling, thighs sticky, his scent carved into my skin. My phone buzzes: “3:01 PM. Be here.  I’m already hard. Be ready.” I reek of sex, my pussy throbbing at the thought of his med-fueled stamina. He’ll fuck me raw, nonstop, his monster cock never softening, my womb a vessel for his obsession. “You’ll take a pill every dawn,” he’d snarled earlier, fingers digging into my jaw. “No brats—just my seed. You’ll stay swollen, dripping, ruined.” I can already hear his growl in my ear: “You’re not leaving this house until just before my wife’s back… and you’re walking funny for a month.”