Several days later, as Henry sat in the borrowed body on the couch, next to Mark, he found himself mechanically counting on his fingers, the number climbing past fifteen before he lost track, each memory of Mark's thick shaft sliding past his lips, of that familiar bitter taste flooding his borrowed throat, of the possessive grip in his hair and the degrading praise whispered against his scalp, blurring together into a nauseating montage that made his stomach churn with a sickening mixture of shame and resignation, the realisation that he had lost count entirely somehow worse than any specific number, a testament to how completely this hellish week had consumed him, just to maintain the illusion he was her. And it wasn't just morning blowjobs, it was blowjobs in the shower, blowjobs while watching a movie, blowjobs in the car.
Mark reaching over and pulleing Henry next to him distracted him from his thoughts, his hands roaming possessively over the borrowed curves, he murmured against Henry's ear with a casualness that made Henry's blood run cold, "You know, babe, I've been thinking... as amazing as your mouth is, I'm kind of tired of just blowjobs." Henry felt his borrowed body go rigid, a cold dread spreading through his chest as Mark's hands slid down to grip his hips, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper that promised new degradations, "Tonight, I want to feel that tight little pussy wrapped around my cock instead." The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and Henry could only nod mutely, his mind racing with panicked images of what was to come, knowing he had no choice but to comply, he'd kept making up excuses, he knew it wouldn't last all week, he'd hoped, but he knew it was bound to happen.
Mark's hands moved to the hem of Henry's shirt, tugging it upward with a casual confidence that made Henry's stomach clench, the fabric sliding over the curves of the body he was trapped in, leaving him exposed in just the skirt as Mark's fingers found the waistband and worked the zipper down with agonising slowness, the cool air hitting his skin as the skirt pooled around his hips, leaving only his knickers, before Mark lifted him effortlessly, positioning him astride his lap with those strong hands gripping his thighs, and Henry could feel the heat of Mark's skin through his own, could feel the hardness pressing against him through the thin fabric of his panties, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to detach from the sensation of being guided forward, of feeling that length slide against him through the damp cotton, Mark's voice a low rumble against his ear saying "that's it, baby, just like that" as Henry's hips began to move in a rhythm he hadn't consciously chosen, his body betraying him with every involuntary roll of his pelvis against Mark's.
Mark's mouth found Henry's again, swallowing his whimper as those hands guided his hips in a slow, torturous grind, and Henry felt the fabric between them shift as Mark's free hand worked at his own waistband, the sound of a zipper lowering making Henry's stomach drop, and then there it was, pressing against the damp cotton of his panties, thick and hot and unmistakable, the reality of what was about to happen crashing over him as Mark's tongue pushed into his mouth, and Henry pulled back just enough to gasp out, "Wait, should we...should we use a condom?" his voice cracking with desperation, but Mark just laughed against his lips, a low amused sound that sent ice through Henry's veins, "A condom? Babe, you've never asked me to use one before, why would we start now?" and the words hit Henry like a physical blow, a reminder that this body had done this before, had done all of this before, and he was just the latest occupant forced to endure the consequences, exactly as she would, as Mark's hands tightened on his hips and guided him forward, the tip of that cock pressing against the soaked fabric, seeking entry through the thin barrier.
With a casual tug, mark pulled the damp fabric aside, exposing Henry's pussy, posistioning him, lifting and angling until the head of his cock pressed directly against the slick entrance, but instead of pushing inside, Mark held him there, teasing, the thick tip just poking at the opening, not entering, a cruel preview of what was to come, Mark's breath was hot against his ear as he whispered, "Feel that, baby? That's just the tip, I'm gonna give you all of it soon," but he didn't push forward, just kept that maddening pressure at the threshold, making Henry wait, making him feel every second of his helplessness, his hips twitching involuntarily as if his body was begging for something his mind recoiled from, and Mark laughed softly, that low amused sound, and said, "Look at you, so eager, you're already trying to take it," and Henry squeezed his eyes shut, unable to deny the accusation because his hips had indeed moved, seeking that fullness, and he hated himself for it, hated the way his body responded to Mark's touch, hated the way his breath caught when Mark's cock head nudged against him, just barely entering, just enough to stretch the opening, before pulling back to tease again, leaving Henry caught between dread and a shameful craving that wasn't his own.
"Not yet, baby, you know what I want to hear," he whispered holding Henry suspended there, just that maddening pressure at the entrance, not moving, not giving an inch, "I want to hear you beg for it, like you always do, tell me how much you need my cock inside you," and the words hit Henry like a slap, a demand that stripped away the last pretense of control, and he felt his throat tighten with shame even as his hips twitched involuntarily, seeking that fullness, his voice barely a whisper as he forced the words out, "Please, Mark, I need it, I need you inside me," the phrases tasting like ash on his tongue, but Mark just shook his head with that cruel smile, "Louder, baby, I can't hear you, tell me how badly you want it," and Henry squeezed his eyes shut, the humiliation burning through him as he repeated it louder, his voice cracking with desperation, "Please, Mark, please fuck me, I need your big black cock so bad," and only then did Mark's grip tighten, did he push forward in one slow, deliberate motion, filling Henry halfway, the sensation so overwhelming that Henry's breath caught in a sob as Mark's voice purred in his ear, "That's my good girl, see, that wasn't so hard."
"Come on baby, you know what to do," and Henry, his mind reeling with shame, began to move, rising and falling on that thick shaft with a rhythm that felt both foreign and instinctual, his body taking over as Mark's hands guided him, the sensations overwhelming as he sank deeper with each descent until he was fully impaled, Mark's hips meeting his with a sharp upward thrust that made him gasp, "That's it, take it all, take every fucking inch," Mark growled, his hands gripping Henry's waist hard enough to bruise as he set a punishing pace, slamming into him from below, the wet sounds of their coupling filling the room along with Henry's helpless moans, and Mark's voice was a constant stream of filthy praise, telling him how tight he was, how good it felt, how much he loved watching his little whore take his cock, and Henry could only cling to Mark's shoulders, his nails digging into the skin as he was bounced on that length, the shame and the pleasure twisting together into a knot he couldn't untangle, his own voice joining Mark's in a desperate plea for more as his hips moved faster, his body chasing a release his mind didn't want.
Mark suddenly stilled, pulling out just enough that only the tip remained inside, the loss of fullness drawing a desperate whimper from Henry's throat, and Mark's hand tangled in his hair, yanking his head back as he whispered, "Not so fast, baby, I want to hear you tell me how tiny your ex's little white dick was, how pathetic it feels compared to this," and Henry's face burned with shame as the words were forced from him, his voice trembling, "It was so small, Mark, so pathetic, you're so much bigger, so much better," each admission making him feel more degraded, more owned, and Mark rewarded him with a slow, deep thrust that reached places Henry hadn't known existed, the sensation making him cry out, "That's my good little bitch, now beg me to fill that tight hole again," and Henry's hips were already grinding back against him, his voice broken and eager as he sobbed, "Please, Mark, fill me up, I need to feel you deep inside me, I need your big cock so bad," and Mark laughed that low, cruel laugh and began to fuck him in earnest, each stroke a punishment and a gift, his voice a constant stream of filthy praise, surely this wasn't how they usually fucked!
But even as Henry's mind recoiled from the degradation, a darker thought surfaced, cutting through the haze of pleasure and shame, she never fucked him like this, never begged like this, never let him call her his little bitch or his good girl, never offered herself up so completely, and the realisation sent a fresh wave of confusion through him, because why was he, Henry, the one who had always been so careful, so controlled, now writhing on Mark's cock like a whore, why was he the one moaning those filthy words and grinding back against him, when the woman whose body he inhabited had never once stooped to this level of depravity, at least with him, had never whispered "please fuck me like the whore I am," had never let Henry take her like this, and the question burned in his mind even as his hips moved faster, why didn't she let him have her like this, especially with no condom!
And as if in answer to that very thought, Mark's rhythm faltered, his grip on Henry's hips tightening as he groaned, "Fuck, baby, I'm close, you want me to pull out or you want a baby?" the question hanging in the air, cruel and deliberate, and Henry's mind screamed pull out, but his body, this treacherous body that had already betrayed him so many times tonight, clenched around Mark's length and pulled him deeper, his own voice answering before he could stop it, "Don't pull out, Mark, please, fill me up, I want to feel you come inside me," the words tumbling out unbidden, and Mark laughed that low, possessive laugh, his thrusts becoming erratic as he growled, "That's my good girl, I'm gonna fill that tight cunt with every drop," and Henry could only moan in response, his own orgasm building as Mark slammed into him one final time, the feeling of hot seed flooding him sending him over the edge, his body shuddering as he came, the shame and the ecstasy blending into one overwhelming wave that left him gasping, Mark's voice a distant murmur in his ear, "Fuck I've been waiting for that all week!"
Mark pulled out slowly, a deliberate drag that made Henry gasp at the sudden emptiness, and he watched with that same cruel satisfaction as his cum began to leak from Henry's stretched hole, trickling down his thighs in thick white streaks, "Good girl," Mark murmured, giving Henry's arse a sharp slap that made him jolt, "Now get your filthy ass in the shower, we're not done yet," Henry, still trembling from the force of his orgasm, could only nod weakly as he slid off the couch on unsteady legs, his thighs sticky and sore, the shame burning fresh as he felt Mark's cum dripping down his skin with every step toward the bathroom, knowing that this was only the beginning of what Mark had planned for the night. He knew he only had to endure a couple of more days.