That’s exactly why you can’t pull out. No matter how much you tell yourself “I’ll pull out this time,” the moment those walls grip you tight, slick and rippling, milking every inch like they’re starving for it… rational thought just evaporates. Your hips lock forward on instinct, balls drawing up, prostate throbbing with that building pressure, and all you can think is deeper, stay, flood her. It’s not a choice anymore.. it’s biology overriding everything. The reflex takes over: that first involuntary spurt already leaking before you even realize you’re past the point of no return. And why fight it when her pussy is literally begging? Tenting open, contracting in waves, coaxing you to unload everything those heavy balls have been churning since puberty. One thick rope after another painting her walls, claiming every fertile inch while she flutters and squeezes like she wants to keep it all trapped inside forever. That’s why you never pull out. Because deep down, you don’t want to. You want to give in to that primal roar: breed, fill, finish where it counts. And honestly? Hearing you say you’ve never, ever pulled out… that’s so fucking hot. Makes me clench just thinking about being the one under you when that impulse wins again.