She slammed the door behind her and shoved him against the wall, her hand already yanking his belt open. "Tell me what smunt means," she growled, fingers wrapping around his cock the second it sprang free. "Right fucking now."
He grinned, teeth flashing, and grabbed a fistful of her hair. "Smunt is when I wreck that tight cunt until it's sloppy and gaping and you can't walk straight. It's not making love. It's not gentle. It's me pounding every inch of you until your juices are dripping down your thighs and you're begging for more cum."
Her breath hitched, but she didn't back off. She dropped to her knees on the hard floor and took him into her mouth in one wet slide, sucking hard from the base to the head. Spit ran down her chin almost immediately. He thrust forward, fucking her face without mercy, the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat again and again until she gagged and tears streaked her makeup.
"That's it," he said, voice low and rough. "Get it nice and slick. Smunt means this mouth gets used first so your cunt knows what's coming."
She pulled off with a filthy pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his shaft. "Then do it. Show me."
He hauled her up, spun her around, and bent her over the kitchen table. Her skirt flipped up, panties ripped aside. Two thick fingers shoved straight into her pussy, no warm-up, pumping fast and deep. She was already soaked, the wet sounds loud in the room. He added a third finger, stretching her, twisting, rubbing that spot inside until her legs shook.
"Listen to that," he said, fingers making obscene squelching noises as he finger-fucked her harder. "Your cunt is already turning into a smunt. Dripping all over my hand like a needy slut."
She pushed back against his fingers, grinding. "More. Give me the real thing."
He lined up and drove in with one brutal thrust, burying every inch in her cunt. She cried out, fingers scrabbling at the table. He didn't give her time to adjust. He fucked her like he meant it, hips snapping, balls slapping against her with every stroke. The table legs scraped across the floor. Her tits bounced out of her top, nipples dragging against the wood.
"Smunt means I use this hole until it's ruined," he grunted, one hand reaching around to rub her swollen clit in tight circles. "Until you're leaking my load and still asking for another round."
She came hard, cunt clamping down, juices squirting around his cock and soaking his balls. He kept pounding through it, chasing his own release. When he pulled out it was only to flip her onto her back on the table, legs spread wide. He slammed back in, watching her face as he railed her.
Her second orgasm hit faster, messier. She clawed at his arms, leaving red marks. "Fuck, yes, that's it. Make it a smunt. Fill me up."
He growled and buried himself to the hilt, pulsing thick ropes of cum deep inside her. He stayed there, grinding, making sure every drop stayed in. When he finally pulled out, her pussy stayed open for a second, creamy white leaking out and running down her ass.
He dragged two fingers through the mess and pushed it back inside her. "That's the meaning. Smunt. Your cunt turned into a sloppy, used hole that still wants more."
She sat up on shaky legs, cum still trickling down her thigh, and reached for his cock again, already half-hard. "Then explain it to me again. Slower this time. With my mouth on your balls while you talk."
He smiled, dirty and satisfied, and pushed her back down to her knees. "Gladly."
