"First Time Tight Heat"

[Give me a descriptive internal monologue of a guy sliding into wet hot tight pussy his first time. All the details please]

His breath locked in his chest as he pressed forward, the slick heat of her making his hips stutter. Fuck, she was tight—so fucking tight—and the way her body resisted just enough before yielding sent a shockwave through him. The first inch was pure fire, her walls gripping him like a fist, wet and insistent. His stomach clenched, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise. Every fraction deeper felt like a claim. She gasped, arching, and he could feel every flutter, every pulse inside her, as if her body was trying to pull him in deeper. The heat was unreal—slick, almost greedy—and when he bottomed out, she let out a choked moan that went straight to his cock. He stayed there for a brutal second, stunned. The pressure, the way she stretched around him, the raw fucking *realness* of it—his brain short-circuited. Then she rolled her hips, and instinct kicked in. He pulled back just enough to savor the glide before driving into her again, deeper this time, harder. The sound she made? That was gonna haunt him.

Continue with his internal monologue, follow with the build up, the sensation of the journey as he pumps in and out.

--- His thoughts scattered with each thrust—all sensation now, no words, just the primal rhythm of his hips and the slick, filthy sounds of her taking him. Every pull back was torture, her walls clinging like they didn’t want to let go, and every push forward punched a ragged noise from her throat. His cock throbbed, overwhelmed by the heat, the tightness, the way her body milked him deeper with every stroke. She arched beneath him, thighs trembling, and he could feel her clench around him—irregular, desperate pulses that made his balls tighten. His grip on her hips shifted, fingers biting in as he angled himself deeper, chasing that tight coil of pleasure winding low in his gut. The friction was brutal, perfect, her wetness dripping down his shaft with each withdrawal, but he didn’t slow. Her nails raked down his back, pulling a growl from him, and suddenly he was fucking her in earnest—hard, ragged thrusts that had her gasping his name between moans. The bed rocked beneath them, the slap of skin on skin drowning out everything else. Every drag of his cock lit him up, raw and electric, until all he could think was *more, deeper, *mine*.

Now, continued through his internal monologue right as he cums, the full description of his orgasm spreading throughout his body and his load of cum gushing from his cock

His rhythm fractured—one last brutal thrust burying him to the hilt as his hips jerked in helpless, stuttering pulses. Heat exploded up his spine, white-hot and all-consuming, and his cock throbbed deep inside her as the first thick rope of cum surged from him. The release was savage, tearing through him in waves, each spurt wrenched from his body with a guttural groan. Her walls clenched around him, milking him impossibly deeper, and he could feel every pulse—hot, liquid claim flooding her—as his vision blurred at the edges. His fingers dug into her flesh, anchoring himself as the last shocks of pleasure ripped through him, leaving him gasping, wrecked. The aftershocks were relentless, his cock still twitching inside her, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Only *feel*—the wet mess between them, the tremors in his thighs, the way her body refused to let go. When he finally slumped forward, forehead pressed to her sweat-slick shoulder, his breath came in ragged bursts. Fuck. Nothing else existed. Just this. Just *her*.

His breath still came rough, chest heaving against her back as the last tremors of his orgasm ebbed away. She gasped when he finally pulled out—slow, reluctant—his cock slipping free with a slick sound, her wetness and his cum dripping messily onto the sheets. He watched, dazed, as her thighs trembled, the evidence of what he’d done glistening between them. She arched with a shuddering sigh, fingers twisting in the sheets, and he couldn’t resist dragging a thumb through the sticky mess, smearing it over her swollen folds. The contact made her jerk, a broken noise escaping her throat, and he groaned low at the sight—her body still responding even now, even spent. “Fuck,” he muttered, voice wrecked. His hand slid up her spine, feeling the damp heat of her skin, before gripping the back of her neck possessively. “You take it so good.” She turned her head, lips parted, eyes dark with the same hunger that still coiled hot in his gut. His cock twitched against her thigh, already stirring again, and he knew this wasn’t over. Not even close.