You knew what you were walking into when König dragged you into the abandoned barracks. The door slammed shut behind you. He towered over you, six-foot-ten of solid muscle in that black tactical gear, the hood and sniper veil still covering his face. Only his eyes showed, dark and hungry.
“Clothes off. Now.” His voice came out low and rough, thick with that Austrian accent. No teasing, no build-up. Just orders.
You stripped fast, dropping everything on the concrete floor. He didn’t move until you were bare, then he grabbed your hips and spun you around, bending you over the nearest metal table. The cold surface bit into your skin. His gloved hand shoved between your thighs, two thick fingers pushing straight into your cunt without warning.
“Already soaked,” he muttered. “Fucking slut. Been thinking about this cock all day?”
You moaned and pushed back on his fingers. He pumped them hard, knuckles deep, stretching you open while his other hand yanked his belt open. You heard the zipper, then the heavy slap of his cock against your ass. König was huge everywhere. Thick, veined, and already leaking at the tip.
He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with the blunt head of his dick. One hard thrust and he buried half of himself inside you. You cried out, body jerking forward. He didn’t stop. He slammed the rest in until his hips were flush against your ass, balls pressed tight.
“Take it,” he growled. “Every fucking inch.”
He fucked you like he was trying to break the table. Deep, punishing strokes that knocked the breath out of you. The wet sound of your cunt sucking on his cock filled the room. He kept one hand on your lower back, pinning you down, while the other reached around to rub your clit in rough circles.
“Come on this dick,” he ordered. “Now.”
Your orgasm hit fast and dirty. Your walls clamped down, pulsing around him. König didn’t slow down. He kept pounding through it, using your clenching pussy to get himself off. When he came, he buried himself to the hilt and flooded you, hot cum pumping deep while he grunted behind the mask.
He didn’t pull out right away. Instead he rocked his hips, stirring his load inside you. “Not done,” he said. “Turn around.”
You barely had time to stand before he lifted you like you weighed nothing. Your back hit the wall. He hooked your legs over his arms and drove back inside, cum leaking out around his cock with every thrust. The new angle let him grind against your clit on every stroke. You clawed at his shoulders, feeling the hard muscle under his shirt.
“Fuck, König—harder,” you gasped.
He gave it to you. The wall shook. His cock dragged over that spot inside you again and again until another orgasm ripped through you, stronger this time. Your vision blurred. He kept going, chasing his own second release.
When he came again he pressed his masked face into your neck and groaned, hips jerking as he filled you a second time. Thick ropes of cum dripped down your thighs.
He finally set you down but didn’t let you rest. He pushed you to your knees. “Clean it.”
You took his half-hard cock in your mouth, tasting both of you. He held your head and fucked your throat in short, shallow thrusts until he was fully hard again. Then he pulled you up, bent you over the table once more, and sank back into your messy cunt.
This round was slower but no less filthy.
He spread your ass cheeks, watching his cock disappear into your used hole. “Look at this greedy pussy,” he muttered. “Swallowing every drop.”
He reached under you and pinched your nipples, twisting just enough to make you whimper. His thrusts stayed deep and deliberate, dragging against your walls. You came again, shaking, and he followed right after, adding a third load inside you.
By the time he pulled out, cum was running down your legs in thick streaks. König finally tugged the veil up just enough to press his mouth to your shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.
“Next time,” he said, voice still rough, “you’re riding me until you can’t walk.”
You were already planning on it.
