Fucking On The Snooker Table

The sharp, wet sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed in a rapid rhythm under the cool night sky.

"Fuck, Lorenzo!" The red-haired woman screamed out in pure ecstasy. Her body spasmed against the green felt of the snooker table, another intense wave of pleasure crashing through her veins. It was her fifth explosive climax of the night, and her loud voice tore through the quiet atmosphere of his luxurious bedroom balcony.

Lorenzo Gallo kept her wrists pinned tightly above her head. He drove his hard cock deep into her wet pussy with ruthless force. He had placed a single phone call earlier, and she had come running to his penthouse like all the others. In his cold eyes, the sprawling city below was flooded with countless women who existed for one singular purpose. They were mere creatures, predictable beings waiting patiently to be fed by his cock. He viewed them as a simple transaction, driven solely by their primal need for wild orgasms. He happened to be the dominant man perfectly equipped to give them exactly what their bodies craved. They liked it rough, they begged to be used, and Lorenzo never hesitated to deliver.

Her pale legs tangled tightly around his waist. She threw her head back in reckless abandon, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her eyes rolled back as a sixth wave of climax began to build in her core.

"Lorenzo!" she pleaded. Her voice cracked, desperate for a fleeting moment of relief, yet she was aware she wouldn't be granted mercy anytime soon.

He ignored her broken plea. Instead of slowing his brutal pace, he roughly yanked his thick cock out of her dripping vagina. Before she could gasp from the sudden emptiness, he shoved his long fingers deep into her warm, soaking flesh. He thrusted into her tight cunt, moving faster and rougher than before, slamming against her sensitive walls.

She let out a strangled whimper. Unable to handle the overwhelming stimulation, she arched her spine, lifting her hips high off the snooker table to frantically meet his relentless fingers.

Lorenzo leaned down, pressing his broad chest against her sweat-slicked body. His hot breath fanned against the sensitive shell of her ear. "Do you want to stop, amore mio?"

She was full. Her body was strung dangerously tight, pushed to the edge of endurance, but she would face damnation before she ever asked him to stop. She craved everything his dark mind could dream up.

"Oh my god!" she screamed loudly. The tight walls of her vagina pulsated, clamping down hard around his thrusting fingers, milking his digits with rapid contractions.

Lorenzo pulled his soaked fingers out of her dripping cunt and pressed them firmly against her parted lips. She opened her mouth without a second thought and eagerly licked every drop of her own slick juice off his skin. A low, dirty hum vibrated at the back of her throat. That sound of submission sent a fresh surge of heat straight to his groin.

She scrambled off the snooker table, dropping instantly to her knees on the hard balcony floor. She reached for his thick, throbbing dick. Her tongue darted out, swirling deliberately over the broad tip of his huge flesh before she took him in. She tilted her head up, locking her glassy eyes with his, making sure he saw how eagerly she swallowed his essence.

Lorenzo threw his head back. A low, guttural growl erupted from deep within his chest as she sucked his cock with frantic dedication.

He wrapped his large hand into the thick strands of her red hair, forming a fist to hold her steady. He began to forcefully fuck her mouth, setting a brutal pace. She opened her jaws wide, taking the full, choking length of him down her throat, lapping up every drop of spit and slick juice that coated his dick.

Lorenzo forcefully dragged her up by her hair. He crashed his lips down onto hers, kissing her hard, tasting his own distinct essence mingling with hers on her tongue.

"You are one bad slut, amore mio," he praised her, his voice a dark rumble.

She grinned, a dizzy look of pure excitement washing over her flushed face before she moved to climb back onto the snooker table. "Thank you, daddy," she purred softly, eager for his next command.

Lorenzo firmly believed in his personal philosophy. Why resort to physical force when a simple compliment worked so much better? Whisper the right praise into a woman's ear, and she would fall head over heels, eager to obey his darkest requests. That was his motto.

He reached out and slapped her bare, wet pussy, the sharp sting making her shiver. The night was far from over, and he intended to push her far beyond her limits.

Miles away from the penthouse, a contrasting reality unfolded within the quiet stone walls of the Sacred Heart Cloister.

Cosima Russo spoke out, her voice breaking as she handed a stack of folded clothes across the narrow bed. "You don't have to leave the monastery, sister. It's really not a safe place out there."

Gemma received the garments with a gentle nod, carefully placing them into her worn suitcase. Cosima wiped a stray tear from her cheek, failing to understand why her older sister insisted on leaving the protective sanctuary in search of a job in the bustling city. Cosima had spent her life listening to the older nuns whisper creepy stories about the illicit things people did out in the real world. According to the sisters, the list of sins was endless. Cosima firmly concluded that the monastery was the safest place for them to exist.

To Cosima, it felt as though Gemma was deliberately walking away from paradise and stepping straight into a bloodthirsty lion's den. She had tried to convince her sister otherwise, but Gemma remained adamant. The girl was notoriously stubborn, so her refusal to back down wasn't exactly a surprise, but it still terrified Cosima.

Sometimes Cosima wished their parents were still alive. They would never have allowed their daughters to indulge in a plan as preposterous as this. But they were orphans. They had found grace through the kind sisters who had taken them in twenty years ago. Now, two decades later, Gemma was willingly throwing herself back into the wild world they had been rescued from.

Gemma stopped packing and turned around. "I know that you're scared, but I promise that I will be fine. I want to find a better place for both of us. That has always been the plan, and I'm grateful that the sisters are supporting me in this as well. Can't you trust me just once?"

Her voice came out soft and smooth, instantly chipping away at Cosima's rigid defenses. Gemma possessed a rare gift. She had a unique way of speaking calmly that could sway almost anyone to her side. Cosima found herself nodding in reluctant affirmation.

"I trust you, but I'm going to miss you a lot. What if something bad happens to you? What if you don't come back for me?" Cosima's voice came out trembling, her lower lip quivering.

She had always been the weaker one when it came to the two of them. Gemma's heart ached at the sight. She knew exactly how much Cosima loved her. They had always watched each other's backs, and she was painfully aware that her leaving would temporarily crush her younger sister, but she genuinely didn't have a choice. Gemma refused to grow up inside the isolated walls of the monastery for the rest of her life. She harbored burning ambitions. She wanted to own her own business and build a real home for them. None of those dreams would materialize if she remained locked away forever.

Gemma had her future meticulously mapped out. Step one: secure this housekeeping job in the city and save up every penny. Step two: rent her own apartment and move Cosima in. Step three: put herself through college, graduate, and find a high-paying career to support them both.

None of this grand plan would happen if she didn't take this first, terrifying step out the door. It was a massive risk, but the reality of her little sister's crushing grief was hard to face.

Gemma opened her arms wide. Cosima practically threw herself forward, crying openly as she walked into the embrace. Gemma engulfed her in a tight hug.

"I will come back for you, my little bunny, and that's a promise I intend to keep. They have already accepted me for the job, and I'm certain that everything will be okay," Gemma assured her, forcing a bright smile onto her face.

Weeks ago, Gemma had secretly applied for the position of a housekeeper through a domestic agency located in the big city. She was originally supposed to start her duties today, but she had pleaded with the agency to push her start date to tomorrow, giving her this final evening to pack her belongings.

Cosima nodded silently against her sister's shoulder. There was no changing Gemma's mind once she had made a firm decision. Cosima had no other choice but to accept the inevitable. Even the head sisters had given Gemma their official blessings, meaning nothing stood in the way of her departure.

Gemma pulled back slightly. "Thank you. Now, please help me pack."

"Of course," Cosima whispered.

She forced a brave, wavering smile onto her lips before turning away. She proceeded to pick up the remaining folded clothes that were scattered across the bed, carefully placing them into the open cardboard box.