She needed a Breeding so I Bred her.

It was one of those nights that starts with a text—a text I’d been waiting for. She was upfront about what she wanted, never one to beat around the bush. Her message was explicit, raw, and it turned me on more than I’d care to admit.

"Woke up this morning wanting to be a cum rag," she wrote. "But you know what really gets me? The feeling of being cummed in."

I could practically hear her voice as I read the words, could see her body in my mind, that perfect combination of curves and confidence that had me hooked from the start. She wasn’t shy about what she craved—she wanted to be bred. It wasn’t just sex; it was about that primal need to be filled, to feel a man’s seed inside her, over and over again.

She’d been with a couple of guys recently, ones who could keep up with her, who could go at it for hours like rabbits, just the way she liked it. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more—more stamina, more cum, more chances to finally get what she wanted.

"I need a man who has the stamina to pull this off," she’d said. "The last two guys I’ve been with could go for hours, and now that’s all I crave. I wanna feel what it’s like to be impregnated so bad. I’ve had creampie after creampie, and it hasn’t worked."

She was obsessed with the idea, driven by a need so deep it almost scared me. She didn’t want a dad for her baby—she wanted the act, the feeling, the raw animalistic connection that came with it. She’d been with strangers, let them fill her up, one after the other, sometimes even getting fucked with another man’s cum still dripping out of her. But nothing had worked. She was desperate, and I could feel it in every word she sent me.

"Maybe I need to try it with the same person over and over until it sticks?" she mused. "I don’t know. I need someone with potent cum."

And that’s where I came in. We’d known each other for years, had been through all kinds of situations together, but this was different. She was asking me to step up, to be the one who could finally give her what she wanted. It wasn’t about love, or even connection—it was about that primal urge, the need to breed.

When I got to the hotel room, she was already there, waiting for me. She didn’t waste any time, pulling her tits out as soon as I walked in, practically begging for me to take her. Her body was a work of art, and I wanted nothing more than to bury myself in her, to fuck her until neither of us could move.

We didn’t talk much, didn’t need to. I knew what she wanted, and I was more than willing to give it to her. She was soaking wet before I even touched her, her body ready, aching for what was about to happen. I fucked her hard, filling her up like she’d been begging for, watching as her eyes rolled back in her head, lost in the sensation of being filled again and again.

She wasn’t satisfied with just one round. As soon as I finished, she was ready for more, begging me to keep going, to keep filling her up until she couldn’t take anymore. I’d never seen her like this, so desperate, so hungry for it. She needed to be bred, needed it like air, and I was more than happy to oblige.

By the end of the night, she’d taken three creampies, given as many blowjobs, and even had taken one nut to her eye. She didn’t care—she loved every second of it. Her pussy was sore, her body exhausted, but the smile on her face told me she was more than satisfied.

We fell asleep together, and when we woke up, she sucked my cock again, her mouth warm and wet, her eyes locked on mine. She was insatiable, a woman on a mission, and I was lucky enough to be part of it.

As I left the hotel, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the way she looked at me, the way she begged for more, even after hours of being fucked. She was determined, and I knew that by the end of the month, she’d find what she was looking for.

She wanted to be bred, and she wasn’t going to stop until it happened. I could feel her need in every touch, every moan, every time she begged me to fill her up again. She didn’t care about anything else—just the feeling of being cummed in, of finally getting what she wanted. And I was more than willing to be the one to give it to her, again and again, until she was dripping with me, satisfied and sore, and ready for more.